Coming Home to Love (Lakeside Porch Series Book 2) (8 page)

Justin’s voice was hard when he answered. “I believe I’m done with meaningless accumulation of wealth.”

She blinked in surprise. “I had a different impression of what you were doing out in the wide world.”

“Which was?”

“You were using your wealth as venture capital to launch businesses and other endeavors. And build additional wealth.”

“True.”

“I don’t see that as meaningless,” she persisted.

“I don’t see it as meaningful,” he countered. “Perhaps in the beginning, yes, you’re right. But it became a sickness, evaluating each possibility by its potential return or its probable yield, without regard for the people or resources involved. I lost my soul, Gianessa.”

Gianessa’s mouth dropped open. She took a calming breath. “So it’s a quest to find and heal your soul as well?”

“Yes.” Justin placed his hands flat on the table and drew strength from its solid surface. He had no idea what to say next.

“You know that I’m a healer. Tell me some things I can use to help you heal.”

“You intend to help me?”

“Of course I do. That’s why I’m here.”

Was that her only motivation for coming today?
“What things do you want to know?”

Gianessa sat up straight and gave him a bright smile. “I’ll start with questions,” she proposed. “How old are you?’

He chuckled. “I feel like an old man. I’m forty-six.”

“I guessed exactly.”

“Joel told you.”

“No, he didn’t. So how old were you when Joel lost his family and you became his guardian?”

He did the math on his fingers. “Twenty-nine or thirty.”

“About Joel’s age now. And when did you lose your own parents?”

Sadness punched him in the gut, as it always did. He breathed through it. “When I was in London gathering data for my Ph.D., on a project out of the Center for Entrepreneurship at the University of Chicago. I was twenty-six.”

“Let me think for a few minutes,” she proposed, and he nodded.

Gianessa picked up her fork and returned to her salad.

Justin gave his attention back to the meal.

After a few minutes, she rested her fork on the side of the plate. “Having done that without anymore flying lettuce leaves,” she said, and he laughed, “may I follow the money story for a minute?”

“I’ve nothing to hide.”

“Your brother was Joel’s father?”

“Joshua, yes. Josh was seven years older than I.”

“When your parents passed, Josh and you both inherited?”

“Correct.”

“You never had any need to work or to accumulate wealth.”

“Financially, no. I’m not sure what drove me to work, except that the Cushmans always worked in finance. I suspect work was the way I found to keep functioning after my parents’ deaths and, later, Josh’s death.”

“How did your parents die?”

“Plane crash. They were on their way to visit me in London.”

“That’s horrible. I’m sorry.”

The sympathy on Gianessa’s face reminded him of how gutted and guilty he’d felt after the crash.

“I saw a therapist for a time, finished my degree, taught at the London branch of the university for three years, and then moved to Switzerland as my home base. My plan was to make money as a venture capitalist.”

“Which you did very successfully.”

Justin nodded wearily.

“Were you and Josh competitive?”

“With each other?”

Gianessa nodded.

“Yes, I suppose we were, although we took different paths in life. He married young and had children and was superficially involved in his wife’s family ventures—Tompkins College, and various industries that they off-loaded when manufacturing moved offshore. Josh was focused on the children—Joel and his sister, Christie—and didn’t have the drive I had to amass wealth.” He sat back for a moment and regarded her. “Are we going anywhere with this?”

She squinted in frustration. “I’m searching for a key, and I’m not finding it.”

“A key to what?”

“For one thing, a key to why you’re so competitive with Joel, even though you say you’ve come back here to learn from him. I can’t make any sense of that.”

“Am I competitive with Joel?”

Gianessa eyed him as though he might be joking.

He shrugged, genuinely puzzled.
Am I competitive with Joel?

“Maybe it’s just the nature of the Cushman men. I guess that’s something for you to think about.”

“On my quest,” he said with an easy smile. “I’ll add it to my challenges. What other questions do you need answered as the healer of my lost soul and my depleted body?”

“Here’s one you can answer easily, and I have no clue what you’re going to say.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“What do you consider your most important accomplishment in your forty-six years?”

He thought for a moment about various deals, startup ventures and collaborations. Then he smiled into her eyes. “Joel. Pulling him back from where his addiction had taken him. He was young and out of control. Fourteen when he smashed a car into a building, fifteen when he got hooked on crack cocaine. I sent him to a place where he could get the help he needed, if he was willing to make the choice and do the work. And thank god he was. He’s been clean and sober for a dozen or more years. I don’t take credit for his hard work, but bringing him back from the brink was by far the most meaningful work I’ve ever done.”

“I had no idea. That’s a side of you I didn’t know existed.”

That hurt
. “Why does that surprise you?”

“Of all the accomplishments you could have chosen, you singled out Joel’s recovery. And now it’s your turn to recover,” she said quietly, “to heal your body and your heart and your soul.” When she raised her empty goblet, he filled it with water from the pitcher. She smiled her thanks.

“Yes. Is that an illness? I’ve heard of being ‘heartsick’. Is there a ‘soulsickness’?”

“Absolutely. We talk about soulsickness all the time in the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous. Most of us come into recovery with soulsickness.”

“You’re in AA?” He topped off his own water.

She nodded. “A few years clean and sober.”

“Tell me, how does one recover from soulsickness?”

“In AA, we do it through the twelve steps. I suppose you could use them yourself, even though you’re not an alcoholic.”

He blinked his puzzlement. “How would I go about that?”

Gianessa gave it thought. “I suppose you’d find what we call a sponsor, someone who understands the process and the steps and who can help you apply them to your own life.”

“Couldn’t you do that?”

“If you’re not in the program, I wouldn’t know how.” She offered, “I’m new to AA here, but I know there are a couple of good therapists who are also in the program. They might structure their work with you around the twelve steps. I can get you a couple of names.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

She nodded. “What I can do, Justin, for your recovery, is teach you to cook delicious, gluten-free meals and prepare menus and make good choices at restaurants and in the grocery store. And I can help you rebuild your body. I’ll be glad to do that with you.”

Now he understood the reserve he had seen in her at the spa. There was no flirtation in her voice or her face or her body, because this was her profession, and she was making a professional commitment to him. Those hip swivels at the spa were probably thrown in to appease him for having to beg for an appointment from a receptionist who didn’t recognize him, and having to put up with the tiny little treatment room.

He asked her, without any trace of impropriety, “And what is your fee for a job like that?” In her eyes, he saw a flicker of unease.
What’s that about?

She sat up straighter and drew her hands closer to herself. “In this case, it would be my way to repay Joel for what he has done for me—bringing me here, giving me a chance for a new start.”

He could tell she was prevaricating. He drummed his fingers on the table. “Let’s leave Joel out of this. I can pay you well, and you’re not in a position to turn it down, are you?” This time, Justin saw anger in her pinched-together eyebrows.

“Was that a put-down or an incentive? Either way, I don’t care for it.”

“My apology.” He tried again. “What I meant was that this is a business arrangement, and I need to pay you for your professional services.”

“It’s my choice, Justin. I won’t take your money.”

He saw her firm resolve in the line of her jaw but not the reason for it. Evidently the confusion showed in his face.

“Justin, I don’t want to walk away from this challenge. In truth, it’s not about repaying Joel, but I won’t take your money.”

He smiled disarmingly and shifted in his chair. “I can’t help wondering what’s in it for you, Gianessa?”

“The satisfaction of seeing you well. Fit, strong, lean, and full of energy.”

He smiled. “So you don’t want me to regain all the weight?”

“Maybe ten pounds, no more.”

“I’ll be buff?”

Color rose in her cheeks.

So she is interested
. “Busted,” he said, teasing her with his eyes and voice.

She laughed. “You are, without a doubt, the most skillful negotiator I’ve ever dealt with.”

He grinned. “One way or another, I find out what motivates my business partners.”

“But I don’t want to be your business partner.” She leaned slightly forward, her chin held high, a little tilt to her head. “For me, this got personal right around the time you started humming ‘Anticipation.’”

How did I miss that?
His eyes traveled from her lush breasts, up the curve of her neck, to her gentle smile. “I can see I’m out of practice.” He met her eyes and saw them sparkle. “How would you describe this relationship of ours?”

Gianessa raised one eyebrow and moved her breasts closer to him. “I’d say we have a promising friendship.”

Justin stroked the crystal stem of the goblet and gave it a quarter turn.
Very promising.

Chapter 5

Manda stopped at the door to the half-finished suite. She peered left and right, her brow furrowed.

Gianessa guessed she was nervous about living with Joel in the early stages of his recovery from serious injury. It was one thing for a sweetheart to imagine nursing her man back to health; it was another to confront the physical reality.

“What did you think of the furniture Justin picked out?” Gianessa said brightly. Manda had made no comment at the showroom when they’d examined Justin’s selections.

Manda shrugged. “It’s cool.”

“What I liked were the clean lines and firm surfaces of the furniture—very handicap-friendly. I also liked Justin’s taste in colors and patterns. But maybe you didn’t.”

“It’s fine. He has good taste.” She sounded sure, even pleased, but she still had the frown lines, and she hadn’t moved even an inch into the room.

“Good match?” Gianessa held up the fabric samples next to the just-primed walls. “It’s okay to tell them to change the paint color, you know. This is just the first coat.”

Manda took a few steps and gave a cursory glance at the swatches and paint color. “I’m okay with it.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets and looked up at the short windows, high up on the old garage-door walls.

“Come see the plans,” Gianessa called cheerfully. She sat down at the makeshift table where the drawings were laid out. “I have little cutouts we can use to arrange things on the plans and see how the furniture will work best. Bring over that stool, okay?”

Manda dragged a stool across the space, and Gianessa held her breath, but no drag marks sullied the new flooring.

“Come close. Let me show you what I’m thinking.”

Manda dutifully moved her stool and sat.

“It’s a little hard to get oriented,” Gianessa began. She pointed across the room to the right while planting one finger on the drawing. “That’s the bathroom, which is plenty big for Joel to swing his chair around. He’ll be able to roll right into the shower, and there will be grab bars to help him on and off the toilet.”

Manda swallowed. “I won’t know how to help him.”

“We’ll have a visiting nurse nearby for a few days to help out. She’ll teach you anything you need to know. And Joel will want to do most things himself. You know Joel.”

“I want to help him,” Manda insisted.

Gianessa squeezed her arm. “Good. That’s something you and Joel will negotiate. He’s stubborn, you know.”

That brought a smile. “You think?”

Gianessa moved her finger on the drawing and pointed ahead and to the left. “Over there is the passage to the workout room and the pool. The pool is only fifteen by thirty, so you can’t do endless laps, but it’ll be perfect for water walking, aqua-therapy, short laps, and just floating in warm salt water.”

“Sounds great.”

“Do you swim, Manda?”

“I love to swim. It would be so cool to do some easy laps after work. Am I allowed?”

Gianessa did a quick mental reset. Manda wasn’t worried about Joel’s care so much as the living space she and Joel were moving into. “Of course you can use your pool. This isn’t just a place where Joel gets therapy. It’s your home. That’s why it’s important for you to give input during construction. It needs to suit you and Joel.”

“Cool, I didn’t know I could say anything.”

“Really?”

Manda shrugged and teared up. “Justin and Tony have been telling me how wonderful it’s going to be, and I thought they didn’t want anyone’s input. I mean I’m really grateful they’re doing this, don’t get me wrong.”

Gianessa closed her eyes. “Justin can be overwhelming when he takes charge, can’t he? He does have great taste and a clear vision, but I know he very much wants your input, Manda.”

“Wow. Okay.” Manda stood up and circled the table to the section of drawing for the pool structure. “In that case”—she traced the lines representing the walls—“isn’t this going to be all glass? I’m worried we won’t have any privacy in the pool.”

Gianessa pointed to one wall after another on the drawing. “The side that faces the Manse is all cabinets and benches and shelves, so there’s no way anyone can see in. The wall that looks out on the lake is glass, but it’s the short wall. You’ll have a beautiful view of the water, and no one’s going to stand there peering in at you. And the other long glass wall faces the woods and the fitness trails, which are not lit. No one has a legitimate reason to be out there at night, and you know how tight security is around here. During the day, people might get a glimpse as they come back from their exercise, but they’re not going to stand gawking. We can always get screens if you decide you need more privacy.”

Manda’s shoulders relaxed. She went back to her stool and perused the drawing. “So this is the living room?” She pointed.

“Yes, it’s just fifteen by twenty, which is why we need to be careful with furniture placement. Let me show you what I’m thinking.” Gianessa placed the paper-cutouts for the sofa, two chairs, narrow coffee table, and rack of folding tables. “Your lighting is all in the ceiling, and each fixture can be remote controlled—on, off, dim, and swivel to a new direction.”

“That works.” Manda reexamined the new windows, high in the wall behind her. “That wall used to have half a dozen garage doors, right? Now I see why the windows are up high. It’s neat that they give us privacy from the parking lot.”

“Exactly. And Justin wanted them to give you a nice view of the treetops, which will be pretty as spring starts to show itself.”

Manda sighed. “Spring. Joel will be getting stronger, and my semester will be winding down, and the wedding won’t be far away.”

“Exactly. All the hard work will be paying off.”

Manda sat taller.

“Manda, your biggest job with Joel’s recovery—besides loving him, of course—is to make sure Joel eats really well. The kitchen is tight.” She pointed to the area on the drawing. “But it will be fully functional, so you can cook all your meals here if you want. Justin is arranging for someone to keep the kitchen supplied with fresh produce, lean meat, and lots of healthy ingredients.”

“That’s a huge help to have someone do the grocery shopping.”

“Justin says he’ll arrange for a cook if you want.”

Manda waved her hand in dismissal. “We both love to cook. Will Joel be able to?”

“He’ll work up to it. It will be good for him.”

Manda shifted on the stool with excitement. “So, where will we eat?”

“Tell me what you think. Tony has figured out how to install an island between the living room and the kitchen.” She showed Manda on the drawing. “Joel can roll up to it from either side. He can use it for cooking, and the two of you can use it as a table. Or there’s space for a slim table between the front door and the passage to the pool.”

“Or both,” Manda said firmly. “But both of us need to use our laptops, sometimes at the same time. Did anybody think of that?”

Good, she’s owning this
. “Justin did. He’s been using that alcove at Joel’s apartment for his laptop, and he’s planned two workspaces here—one for you, one for Joel.” She put her finger on a section of the drawing, an area beyond Manda’s view.

“Where is all that?”

Gianessa pointed to the cavernous space beyond the weight-bearing pillars that marked the midpoint of the garage.

Manda crossed to one of the pillars and peered into the dark.

Gianessa found a switch. Lights came on overhead. “Welcome to your master suite.”

Manda’s eyes brightened with interest.

Gianessa led her on a quick tour, starting at the wall closest to the lake. “You have a walk-in closet that adjoins the bathroom with a door between and a door to the bedroom. It will have built-in drawers and shelves and a bench so you and Joel can dress in private.”

Manda laughed. “This closet is bigger than my whole kitchen and dining space.”

Gianessa pointed to the line of chalk on the floor, as they entered the master bedroom. She gestured to her left and straight ahead. “In your bedroom, you’ll have windows to the lake and to the woods, with shades that open from the top and the bottom. I thought two chairs for reading and conversation could face the windows. What do you think?”

Manda smiled and let out a sigh. “Joel will love it. He can read and meet with Phil, and we can talk in the evenings.”

“The bed could go in the center. King-size? There’s room.”

Manda nodded her agreement.

They traversed the length of the room and stood under the high, wide windows. “And here are the workspaces Justin had in mind.” She drew imaginary boundaries for the side-by-side alcoves. “He has requested that this wall have its own power circuit, so you can load it up with electronics.”

Manda moved into “her” alcove and pretended to use her laptop for a few seconds. Then she turned and contemplated the whole space. She made her way back to the windows that faced the water, carefully stepping around the imaginary bed. She sank to the floor, cross-legged, with her back to the room.

Gianessa heard a whimper. Worried, she came up beside her.

Manda had tears on her cheeks.

Gianessa knelt on the floor and lay her arm lightly across Manda’s shoulders.

“Do you think it will work for you and Joel?”

“It’s going to be really good. We could never have done this without you guys. Justin’s thought of practically everything, and you’ve thought of the rest. You’re a great team.”

Gianessa’s stomach took a dive.
Les always said he and I were a great team. And look how that turned out
. She didn’t ever want to repeat that nightmare. “Thank you, Manda.”

“I know Justin’s going to make a great dad. And I think you’re going to be a wonderful mother.”

Gianessa swallowed. “Why did you say that?”

“That sounded like I’m matchmaking.” Manda laughed at herself. “I’m not. It’s just that he makes me feel so protected, and you make me believe that my opinion and my ideas count. I always wanted that from my parents.”

Gianessa rubbed her back. “So you and Joel will both be okay here for a couple of months?”

“Hell, yes. We might want to live here until we build a house.”

Justin surveyed the well-heeled clientele at Sydney Shorey’s favorite steakhouse in the theater district. No one had a suit that could match the ones he’d just ordered. He tapped his fingers on the tabletop. “Good choice, Syd.”

“Tell me this, Justin.” Sydney swallowed her olive and set down the toothpick. “Why are you being fitted for new suits if you’re just going to gain back the weight?”

“Perhaps I’m not.”

“Not which?”

Justin sat back with a satisfied smile. Bantering with Sydney always gave him a lift. “Not putting the pounds back on. My plan is to stay at this weight, perhaps one or two pounds above or below.”

“You’re a lean, mean, money machine, you mean?” Sydney inspected him from a couple of angles. “Very sexy on you.”

“You think?”

She nudged his foot under the table. “I’ll tell you what I think. I think Justin’s got a woman.”

He felt his cheeks grow warm.

Sydney pointed her finger and smirked. “I knew it the minute you came through that door.”

Justin found himself smirking right along with her. “I haven’t got her yet, Syd.”

“She’s young and beautiful, am I right?”

“She’s young and beautiful, and at the moment she’s my cooking teacher.”

“You schemer. You’re already an accomplished cook.”

“She’s teaching me to cook gluten-free. And I’m learning to plan menus so I can cook my own meals regularly.”

Sydney folded her arms under her voluptuous bosom.

Justin leaned closer and whispered, “I love that view.”

“Spill. What’s the story?”

Justin explained his food intolerance and the dramatic improvement in his health in a matter of weeks, similar to the improvement when he’d been in Indonesia the previous year. “I’m still weak, but I’m eating without difficulty, sleeping soundly, no more headaches or nausea. I feel like a new man.”

Sydney nodded and swallowed the last of her vodka martini. “You look younger, fitter, and happier than you did in December.”

“Not fitter, not yet, but I can work on that now that I have some energy back. Let’s talk about the college.”

“Mine or yours? Mine’s not very interesting. Yours was a disaster, last I heard. Decided yet who you’re going to fire?”

Justin raised his hand to signal the waiter for another round of drinks.

Sydney stilled his hand.

“I’ve had enough vodka. Make mine Perrier, too.”

“I’ve been meeting with the Provost and one trustee who’s local to Tompkins Falls. I’ll meet two more trustees when I come back for my suits next week. Syd, there’s a to-be-fired list that’s shocking. The corruption went all across the campus, nearly every department.”

“So you’ll fire a few from everywhere?”

“Not my decision alone, as you know, but I suspect we will. I’m feeling out the other trustees, letting them sniff me.”

“You definitely need world-class suits if the big boys are sniffing you,” Sydney said dryly.

“And you definitely don’t need any more vodka, my dear.”

“I need food, dearest. Let’s order.”

Justin chose filet and salad, no croutons, to Sydney’s prime rib and baked potato.

“Danny expects me to bring home half my meal and make a complete report on what we talked about.”

“Is he jealous?”

“Just protecting his territory.”

“And is he behaving himself?”

Sydney smiled tenderly, her eyes on her wedding band. “He’s being a thoughtful, attentive, faithful husband, and I love him for it.”

Justin drummed his fingers on his glass of Perrier. “You’re happy?”