Lake Effect (5 page)

They walked back out and around the bed to the other side. Wyeth opened the doors on a massive and very organized walk-in wardrobe and dressing room.

“My entire house could fit into this one room.” Shelby looked at him, absolute awe on her face. “I love your house — it's you.”

Wyeth smiled down at her and watched the blush creep up her neck. God, he loved the way her face showed her every emotion.

“Come with me, I'll show you the downstairs.” Taking her hand again he led her down a set of back steps that went straight into a beautifully modern kitchen.

“Oh, Wyeth!”

“I thought you might like it here.”

“This is a dream kitchen. Did you design this?”

“I left the decorating to the experts — and I'm guessing from your reaction it was money well spent.”

“It's amazing. It smells amazing too, is that our dinner?” She pointed to the large pot simmering on the large commercial range. A larger pot of water sat next to it, just beginning to boil.

“Shelby, I have a confession to make. It's been a long time since I've cooked for anyone besides myself and then it was just my frat brothers and, well, they'd eat anything. I made my mom's red sauce recipe because it's the only thing I've ever made before.”

She rewarded his confession with a huge smile. “Well then, I am flattered beyond belief, sir. Can I help you get dinner together?”

“If you just sit yourself there at the counter, you can keep me company while I finish your meal.”

Never in a million years would he have pictured this domestic scenario for himself. What was it about this woman that just made him want to take care of her? He'd never felt that way and, frankly, he found it unnerving. True, she was unlike any woman he'd ever invited into his life. Perhaps that was it — she was a novelty and, like all novelties, she'd wear off after a while. For now he would just enjoy the newness of it.

Shelby pushed her plate away and let out a contented sigh. “That was wonderful.”

“Would you like some more wine?”

“Yes, please. Is this from the island vineyard?”

“It is, last of the old press. I have to say, it's not bad but I'm hoping our next press will be even better.”

“I hope so too. It's nice to see people working there again, good for the island too.”

Wyeth cleared the plates to the sink and took her hand as she came around the counter. “We need to finish your tour and then I thought we could watch the sun set over the lake.”

Shelby shyly allowed him to lead her through a large set of beautiful French doors to the formal dining area. “Wow! You could seat twenty people at this table.” She ran her free hand appreciatively over the dark wood surface.

Her words gave Wyeth a vision of this house full of family and friends, celebrating. It was something he hadn't even thought of before. This house would be a great home for entertaining. He shook his head as an image of Shelby as hostess formed in his mind. He could see her so easily in the middle of his family — she'd fit as if she belonged.

“Do you miss New York?” Her question brought him back to reality.

“I miss my mom and my sister, not much else. I keep in touch with my office from here and the winery has kept me busy these past few months. I go back every so often. I have to go back in two weeks, actually. Mother is hosting a big benefit in my dad's name — very formal, black tie, the whole nine yards. Would you come with me?”

Shelby looked at him warily. “I don't think so.” He was surprised by her quick and candid answer. This woman was turning his world upside down. She gave all indication that she was as interested in him as he was in her, but her quick response left him wondering. Before he could ask why, she continued with her explanation.

“I don't think I'd be very comfortable, Wyeth. I hope you're not offended by that.”

“It's a few weeks off. I hope you'll give it some thought.” He wasn't about to take no for an answer just yet but he could see she needed some time. That he could give her.

Don't push the issue, he thought.

“You don't have to decide right away.” He saw the tension leave her shoulders. “You still need to see the study. I've saved it for last; something tells me you're going to like it.”

He wasn't disappointed with her reaction. The massive room with its two floors had been a surprise to him as well when he'd first toured the place. Luckily, the windows and roof for this part of the house had been solid and the massive collection of books was well preserved. He was rewarded with yet another big hug.

“Oh my God! This is incredible. It's like a smaller version of Henry Higgins's study — you know, from
My Fair Lady
?”

He laughed and shook his head no.

She waved him off and continued to stare in awe and wonder. “You could just get lost in here. Seriously, I don't know that I'd ever leave this room. I love the leather sofas and chair, and the fireplace. Was the furniture part of the sale as well?”

“The desk is mine.” He motioned to the large mahogany desk that sat in front of the large leaded glass window. “My father's, actually; cost a small fortune to get up here but I think it's well suited for the place, don't you?”

“Oh, Wyeth, I am simply at a loss for words. Can't you just imagine this place on a cold winter's day? A blazing fire, a good book, what else could you possibly need?”

You, stretched out next to me on a plush rug?
Of course, he didn't say that aloud but the vision she was painting was making him hard as a rock. He had to get out of this room before he did something no gentleman would do.

The evening sky was a glorious combination of pinks and blues by the time they made it to the backyard. Wyeth pulled Shelby close to him as they watched the sun make its decent. She smelled so clean and fresh, what was that scent? It had been hounding him since he'd first been near enough to smell it.

“You smell so good.” He kissed the top of her head and smiled as she giggled.

“It's just soap.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. You know the kind that floats?”

“Ah.” He laughed. “Well, it's wonderful.” He hugged her closer and looked down into her upturned face. He bent his head down and kissed her. She parted her lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss, and he sent his tongue exploring, welcoming hers as she did the same. Breathless, they parted.

Taking a step back, she took a steadying breath. “Wyeth, I'm going to have to take this slowly. I can't go with you to New York. I'm sorry.”

Standing there, looking at her, the moon, the stars, the water, he knew what he was feeling. He knew that this was love and with sudden clarity he understood what all the hype was. “I'll wait, Shelby. I'll go as slow as you need me to. If you change your mind, the offer will still stand.”

“Thank you. I'd better go.”

He walked her to her car and stood in the drive for a good long while after her taillights disappeared into the dark.

The bell tinkled as Shelby pushed it open and walked into the Beauchamp Island Market.

“There's my girl!” Len Beauchamp looked down from the ladder he was standing on and gave Shelby a big grin.

“Hi, Len, is Cheri around?”

“Showin' a house, I expect. Why don't you come on ‘round the back and have a cup of coffee? She shouldn't be too long. Give us a chance to catch up.”

She waited while he climbed down the ladder and put away his tools. He pulled her into a bear hug that she returned with fervor.

Len washed his hands, took a cookie from the jar for each of them, and settled down in the chair across from her. He poured them both a cup of coffee.

“Haven't seen much of you lately.” He winked and Shelby blushed, biting into the buttery shortbread. “Hear you've been seen around town with this new fella, Mr. Packard from New. York. City.”

Shelby laughed at Len's emphasis on the words. He hadn't lived in New Orleans for years but the accent left you in no doubt as to where he was from.

“We're just friends, Len. You know you're still my number one beau.”

Now it was his turn to blush. “That's Cheri's car; guess I'd better go back in and get my chores done. Whatever you're doin', Shelby, you keep it up, it looks good on you.” He kissed the top of her head and sauntered back into the store with his coffee cup, grabbing a second cookie out of the jar on his way, placing his finger to his lips as if it were a secret.

Cheri came in like a whirling dervish.

“Leonard Beauchamp, I saw you take that cookie,” she yelled at Len's back as he retreated back into the store. “Hello, sweetie, damn fool knows he's got to watch his cholesterol and his sugar.” She turned and gave Shelby her mega-watt winning realtor smile and a peck on her cheek. “This is a pleasure, haven't seen you around in a few days. Been keeping busy?”

“You're not fooling me, Cheri. I know you know how I've been spending my days this past week. I've already heard it from Len. Nothing gets past you two on this island.”

“Well, maybe you're right, but I have to say I like what it's doing for you.” She grabbed herself a coffee mug and sat down on the chair most recently vacated by Len.

Shelby felt the color rising up her neck. She adored the Beauchamps and sitting here in their kitchen was like sitting in the home of a beloved aunt and uncle.

“Okay, girlfriend, spill it.” Cheri looked at her across the table and Shelby couldn't keep the grin off her face.

“It's been a bit of a whirlwind, really. I'm trying to wrap my head around it. That's just the thing, Cheri. I'm not sure how I feel.” She looked down in her lap and then back up at her friend, the confusion and anguish she was feeling reflecting back in her eyes.

“How do you feel when you're with him?”

“Happy, relaxed, excited, confused.”

“And when you're not with him?”

“Lonely, guilty.” The words were whispered. Shelby looked up to see Cheri shaking her head.

“Why? Shelby, this may sound harsh, honey, but the cold fact is that Jack's been gone for five years now. At some point you've got to let that wonderful man rest in peace. That doesn't mean you have to forget him, it doesn't mean that you have to pretend as if he never existed. What you do have to do is stop letting him get in the way of your happiness. Stop measuring every single man you meet against his ghost.”

“It's hard, Cheri. I'm working on it. He asked me to go to New York with him — some function in honor of his late father, very black tie.”

“That's wonderful! When do you leave?”

“I turned him down.”

“Did you now? How'd he take that?”

“He said we could take it slow. He said he'd wait for me and if I changed my mind just to let him know.”

“Shelby, he sounds like a really good guy. I know from working with him on the house and vineyard purchases that he's very honest and above board. You really should give him a chance.”

“You're right. I plan on it, really I do, but to go away with him … not yet, not this soon. I promise I'll think about it. Should I change my mind, and if he's still interested, I'll try to just relax with him and see where it leads.”

“Well, that's good, darling, that's real good. Now tell the truth, how many cookies did Len have?”

Shelby held up her hands in mock protest. “Hey, I'm Switzerland here, totally neutral.”

Shelby finished her errands and headed for home. Cheri had certainly given her a lot to think about. Norman greeted her at the door as if she'd been gone for a month.

“I know, I've been neglecting you, haven't I?” She roughed up the big dog's mane and hugged him close as he nuzzled her neck. She laughed when he brought his stuffed animal to her for a quick game of tug.

Maybe Cheri was right. Perhaps she'd turned Wyeth down too quickly.
I wonder what he'd do if I called him and told him I've changed my mind?

Before she could talk herself out of it she picked up her phone and called the vineyard office.

“Island Vineyard.” The very female voice on the other end threw Shelby for a moment but she quickly regained her confidence.

“Hello, is Mr. Packard available?”

“I'm sorry; he's been called back to New York on an urgent matter. I'm not sure when he's expected back, may I take a message?”

“No. No thank you.” Shelby hung up the phone, baffled and a little hurt. Had he really left the island without saying goodbye? Was it something serious, an emergency, perhaps? The receptionist had said
urgent.

“Wyeth, honey would you be a dear and help me out up here?”
The words came unbidden into her head. Perhaps that was what was calling him home.

“I'm in over my head here, Norman. C'mon, let's go for a run.”

• • •

The Packard Corporation was located at the top of a building at Fifth Avenue and Fifty-Ninth Street. Hands in the pockets of his suit pants, Wyeth stared out the window of his office and looked out across Central Park. For a long time this view had been his comfort, the symbol that he had made it. He had beaten the odds. He had proven to all of the doubters that he could run Packard Corporation just as well as his late father had. Business was good. He'd worked hard to put the right people into key places. He'd earned this office and he'd earned this view and, dammit, he'd earned the right to walk away from the prison it had become.

When James had called him yesterday to say someone from the Security and Exchange Commission wanted to meet with them, Wyeth had just come in from walking the vineyards. He'd been covered in mud and his hands were raw from the spring winds off Lake Erie; he'd felt more alive than ever. But he'd known from the tone of his brother-in-law's voice that the news was bad.