Holiday In The Hamptons. Sarah Morgan

Holiday In The Hamptons - Sarah Morgan


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no intention of sharing that detail with his older sister. His youngest sister, Bryony, would never in a million years have dreamed of interfering.

      “You need to leave this alone, Vanessa.”

      “I can’t leave it alone. You’re my brother, and Naomi is my friend.”

      And for Vanessa, that was enough. She wanted things to be the way she’d wanted them.

      “Seth won’t play my game,” had been her constant whine as a child. Remembering brought a wry smile to his lips. He hadn’t played her game then, and he certainly wasn’t playing it now.

      “If you truly care about Naomi then you’ll step back from this one. If you interfere, you’ll make things worse. It’s not fair to her.”

      “I thought, maybe, if you spend some time together in Vermont the two of you might—”

      “It’s over, Vanessa. And if you hint at anything else to her, if you imply that if we got together for the Fourth then there might be a big reconciliation, then you’ll be the one hurting her. It’s the wrong thing to do.”

      “Is it wrong to want to see you settled and married one day?”

      “I’ve been married.”

      There was a tense pause. “That one didn’t count. It wasn’t real.”

      He’d counted it. Every hour. And it felt as real now as it had then. “Are you done?”

      “Now I’ve annoyed you, but it was Vegas, Seth. Vegas! Who gets married in Vegas? I can only assume you did it because you had some misguided notion about taking her away from her father. Protecting her. You’ve spent your life rescuing things, but she didn’t need protecting. You’re such a gentleman, and she took advantage of you.”

      Seth decided it was a good thing his sister couldn’t see him smiling. “Maybe I’m not such a gentleman. Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

      “I know you never would have married her unless she’d forced you.”

      “You think she handcuffed me to the door of the Elvis Chapel?”

      “So if it was a real wedding, why didn’t you invite us?”

      “Because it’s impossible to invite you without your opinions coming along for the ride.”

      “You hurt Mom’s feelings.”

      He tensed, knowing it was true and knowing also that his sister knew exactly how to wound. “I need to go, Vanessa. I have patients to see.” An ex-wife to track down.

      “Maybe I’m crossing a line—”

      “You always do.”

      “—but that happens every time we talk about her. You’ve seen her, haven’t you? That was why you took the job in New York.”

      He didn’t need to ask whom she meant. He contemplated not answering but decided that would prolong the conversation. “I haven’t seen her yet.”

      “‘Yet’? That means you’re intending to. What are you thinking? Or maybe you’re not thinking and it’s testosterone affecting your brain.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I want you to be happy, that’s all. Maybe you should meet her. Maybe if you actually came face-to-face with her again, you would get her out of your system.” She made Fliss sound like a drug overdose; something that could be overcome with the right antidote.

      “There’s nothing wrong with my system, but thank you for granting your permission.”

      “I hate sarcasm.”

      “And I hate your need to control other people’s lives as well as your own.”

      “You drive me crazy, do you know that?”

      “It’s a brother’s duty to drive his sister crazy.”

      “Not this crazy.” Vanessa sighed. “On second thoughts, I take it back. I don’t think you should see her. You don’t make good decisions when you’re around her. She ripped your heart out, Seth, and then she used it as a football.”

      “‘She’ has a name.”

      “Felicity. Fliss—” Vanessa almost choked “—and you’re talking in your quiet voice, which I know means you’re mad at me—messes with your head, Seth, and she always did. She’s a—a minx.”

      Minx? Only his sister would have come up with a word like that. Seth thought about Fliss, remembering the wicked gleam in her catlike eyes and the teasing curve of her mouth. Maybe minx suited her. Maybe he had a minx addiction.

      Maybe he was in as much trouble as his sister thought he was.

      “Are you done?”

      “Don’t cut me off! I don’t want you to be hurt again, that’s all. I care about you.”

      “You don’t have to worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”

      “Are you sure?” His sister’s voice was thickened. “You were the one who held it all together when Dad died. You were there for everyone. Our rock. You’ve got broad shoulders, Seth, but who do you lean on? If you don’t want to get back together with Naomi, you should find someone else. I don’t want you to be alone for the rest of your life.”

      “We’re not populating Noah’s Ark, Vanessa. We don’t all have to be in twos.”

      “I’m not going to mention it again. You’re old enough to make your own decisions, you’re right. Let’s talk about the house, instead. Mom wants to sell it.”

      His gut twisted. “It’s too soon to make that decision.”

      “I know you don’t want to sell it, but she can’t stand the thought of going back there.”

      “She might feel differently in a while.”

      “And she might not. Why does it matter to you, Seth? You’re building your own place near the water. Once that is finished, you won’t need Ocean View.”

      He thought of the big house that had been part of his life for as long as he could remember. Maybe Vanessa was right. Maybe he was holding on to it for himself, not for his mother. “I’ll speak to a Realtor as soon as I have a chance. Get a valuation.”

      “Good. I can leave that with you, then?”

      “Yes.” He could almost hear her mentally ticking it off her list. Vanessa survived by lists. If something wasn’t on her list, it didn’t get done. He could imagine her, pencil in hand, ready to tick off find Seth a wife. She’d inherited her organizational tendencies from their mother, who was a warm and generous hostess. No one arriving at the Carlyle home would ever feel anything other than welcome. Summer at the Hamptons had been an endless round of entertaining both friends and family. No one would ever be fed the same thing twice. His mother had a file. People’s likes and dislikes, marriages, divorces, affairs—everything carefully recorded so that there were no awkward moments. And she had a team of people to help her.

      Vanessa was the same, except she was more drill sergeant than congenial host.

      “And you’ll think about the Fourth?”

      “I don’t need to think. I know I’m working.”

      “In that case I’ll visit you soon. We’ll have lunch. And, Seth—”

      “What?”

      “Whether you see her or not—whatever you do, don’t let her hurt you again.”

      SHE RENTED A CONVERTIBLE, because if you were going to drive to the beach on a hot summer’s day, you might as well enjoy


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