Her Surprise Protector Page 2

  Just a few more days, anyway. I could tire Chauncey out with long walks and tug-of-war. He liked to run around the backyard, but if that wasn’t an option because of the hole, well…it would be okay. I had learned that the inquisitive dog never gave up looking for toys I had hidden or the location of a hole in the fence, either. So, the backyard wouldn’t be safe until a professional patched the fence.

  I sighed again, looking around the massive living room. At first, I hadn’t known what to do with myself in this enormous home. The marble floors shone and showed even the slightest specks of dirt. The furniture looked as new as the day it had come off the assembly line – or, as was more likely with the owners of this place, been hand-crafted. Everything was just…fancy. The refrigerator in the kitchen had way too many little features that mine certainly didn’t have, the lights and other electrical devices in the house could operate on the sound of my voice, and the high ceilings lacked a single spiderweb or discolored spot. The mansion wasn’t new, but everything about it felt pristine, untouchable.

  Now, I could cross my legs when I sat on the sofa without grimacing at the idea of possibly leaving a mark on the cushions. I could make food in the kitchen without cleaning it from top to bottom when I finished. I could slide in between the sheets of the guest room at night without feeling stiff as a board in the unfamiliar, massive bedroom with its looming furnishings. It had taken me a while to find some level of comfort here, but today I was ready to finish this house and dog sitting gig and go home.

  Almost, anyway. My house wasn’t exactly a safe haven right now.

  I didn’t have time to think about that at the moment, though. Clearly, Chauncey wasn’t willing to just settle down on his own. The pup needed more playtime, and it was part of my job to give it to him. Grabbing his favorite toy – a red and orange lizard with the words “Ruff, Tuff and Tumble” stitched on the side – I clicked my tongue at Chauncey, who was sniffing inside the elegant fireplace, exploring.

  “Chauncey!” I interjected some excitement into my voice; Chauncey was genuinely the cutest dog ever. “Come here! Want to play? Huh?” A wave of the lizard brought him running over, and he seized the front half of the toy.

  I could have held onto the lizard forever, even with Chauncey tugging at it for all he was worth, but I let him have it a few times. He would shake it back and forth, happily panting, then come back to me for another round. I obliged him until we both grew tired. “Good enough?” I asked him, standing up to get us both some water.

  Chauncey lapped happily away, then followed me out onto the second-floor, enclosed porch. I sat on one of the comfortable deck chairs, holding a notebook and a pen, and Chauncey plopped down at my feet with a happy sigh.

  I might actually miss this dog. Maybe I should get one of my own…but no. Getting a dog had crossed my mind once or twice before, but it wasn’t a good idea. Bree, my little girl, was only two-and-a-half years old, the perfect age to be bowled over by an overexcited dog. Besides, I barely had time for work and Bree. I didn’t need to add a dog to the mix.

  And it would cost more money. I had to remind myself of the biggest issue I had and the reason I was here in this mansion right now – money. I didn’t need another drain on my bank account, not right now. Not right after…

  Just as I opened my book to try and pull my mind away from dark and nervous thoughts, my phone vibrated on the glass table beside me. Chauncey glanced up sleepily as I answered, leaning forward a little when I saw the caller ID. “Hey, Payton. Is something up with Bree?”

  “No, of course not! She’s sleeping right now. I just called to chat.” My best friend sounded apologetic for worrying me.

  “Sorry. I guess I’m still a little on edge. I’ve actually been having a really nice time here,” I told Payton, looking out the stretching windows to watch the surf lap at the sand below. “It’s pleasant, and quiet. Mostly.”

  “Mostly? Did something happen?”

  “Not really. The dog got out and bothered one of the neighbors. It wasn’t a big deal.” Well aware I was underselling the issue, I changed the subject. “So, how’s Bree?”

  Payton spent a few minutes talking about my daughter and her own young son and how they loved to play together, creating exciting characters out of their toys and composing make-believe stories. I listened with a smile on my face, thrilled to hear my little girl was doing well in our break from living at home.

  “So, how are things going?” Payton asked during a lull in the kid talk. “Have you heard anything from the police yet?”

  “Not lately.” My foot moved just a little, reminding me that Chauncey would bark if anyone came to the house and the alarm system would notify me and the police if anyone dared to break in. “They said that vacationing kids probably slashed my car tires.”

  “That makes sense,” Payton mused. “Kids that drink too much think destruction is fun.”

  “I guess,” I said unhappily. “But I’m not so sure. Wouldn’t there have been some beer bottles around or something? And wouldn’t they have messed with more than just my tires? And why mess with a house like mine when there are so many mansions right there in Montauk? It seems like kids would be a lot more interested in those mansions than my dinky house.”

  “It does seem kinda odd,” Payton agreed. For a moment, we sat together in silence, pondering.

  “I just… I want my daughter to be safe, you know? I’m a little nervous about going home,” I admitted, thinking of the few days remaining here before I returned home and to my everyday job as a legal aide.

  “You’ll be fine,” Payton encouraged me. “Look, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll come over for dinner and wine the evening you come back so you won’t be alone. Bree and Michael can play, and we can stay up and watch movies – quietly, of course, so we don’t wake the kids. How does that sound?”

  “Pretty awesome,” I had to admit. It had been a while since Payton, and I had found time to spend together since we were busy single mothers. An evening with Payton might be just what I needed to feel comfortable in my home again. “Do you think I should call down to the police station one more time, though… check to see if they found anything else?”

  “No. I think they would have called if they found something. You just need to get on with your life and not let some stupid tourists ruin it for you. You still like living in Montauk, right?”

  “I love it,” I corrected Payton. Something about the untouched, natural beaches that stretched up and down the shoreline beyond my clapboard house inspired me to write some of my best poetry.

  “Then it’ll be fine. And even if it’s not, you know you’re always welcome here, right?”

  I smiled down at the lines of poetry in my open notebook. “Yeah. I know.”

  We talked for a few more minutes. Then I hung up and traded my phone for a pen and lowered it to the paper, gazing around the lovely deck for ideas. This place inspired me, too, but in a different way from my own home, which had a more rustic vibe. This mansion belonged to a couple who were the perfect example for the old saying, ‘Everyone who lives in the Hamptons is filthy rich.’

  Even though the couple who lived here appeared friendly on the surface, I had a feeling that they looked down on me for being who I was and not rising to their high financial standards. I could feel that superiority here in this house, and it was affecting the tone of my poetry.

  That was okay, though. I liked to try and write many different styles of poems. Well-roundedness never hurt in any respect.

  “Right, Chauncey?” I asked the labradoodle. He twitched an ear in response, and the rocking-chair I sat in creaked.

  The white chair creaks on the painted porch

  A single imperfection in a world of perfection.

  Outside and inside, a paradise

  Beneath, a place of judgment.

  I regarded the lines I had just written. It didn’t really flow, in my opinion, just because of the varying lengths in the lines. Still, it adequately described
my feelings for this place, so I decided not to change anything for now. There was always something to be said for raw emotion and feeling as opposed to constant editing and perfecting. I had a long way to go before I could see the line between the two that showed whether a poem was good or bad. I doubted I would ever share this particular piece with anyone, so I thought I might as well write from the heart. My heart had gotten me in trouble before, but I felt it was safe to let it express itself in my poetry.

  My mind strayed from the words in the notebook to the most recent and most unfortunate trouble my heart had led me into – Bree’s father. He had been bad for me, even before he had gotten me pregnant. I should have been able to see that coming, but I had been naïve and convinced that he loved me, and what I felt for him was love too.

  I had been very, very wrong, but honestly, I could never bring myself to regret the brief and tragic relationship. I had gotten something I loved very much from that train wreck – Bree. I wouldn’t give up my baby girl for the world, and her life would be better with her father as far out of the picture as he could be. I’d heard from him off and on after Bree was born. By now, though, it was safe to assume he had probably moved to a new state, gotten another unlucky woman pregnant, and moved on again.

  My fingers turned through the pages of the notebook, flipping to the beginning. All of these pages were about love, trust and building the future I was hoping for with Oscar. I couldn’t bring myself to hate these poems, because there was no point. I had felt this way once, sure, but I didn’t anymore. I had become more secure with myself and living on my own. Oscar didn’t matter to me anymore. He hadn’t for a long time.

  I closed the notebook. I had meant to spend a lot more time on poetry today, but the sun was already going down, and I needed to figure something out for dinner. Chauncey would be happy if I just scooped some food out of the bag and into his bowl, but I was a little more needy. Soup, I decided. Soup sounds good. Nothing fancy, just microwaved canned soup. The owners of this house would be horrified at such a cheap, unassuming meal, no doubt, but some simple soup sounded heavenly to me right now.

  “What do you think, Chauncey? Dinner time?” The labradoodle lifted his head sleepily but jumped up to follow me when I stood to walk into the house. “Dog food for you, and soup for me? Sounds pretty good, right?”

  Chauncey agreed with a wagging tail. I fixed our meals and sat down, watching the dog scarf up his dinner while I slurped at mine. “It’ll be fine,” I told him. “I’m going home in a few days, and it’ll be fine. I’m overreacting. I’m sure it was just some kids, like the police said. I’ll never see them again, and I’ll be able to live in peace with Bree.”

  Food crunched as Chauncey chewed his way through the contents of the bowl. “Not your problem, right, buddy? Your mom and dad are going to come home, and they’ll fix the fence so you can’t run away again. You won’t even notice I’m gone.” I pulled a red hair out of my soup, finished the bowl and sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day as the labradoodle bounded across the kitchen floor, trying to play with a tiny piece of plastic that I hadn’t seen against the pale tile. “Guess you’re all wide awake again.”

  I put my soup bowl in the sink and went hunting for the leash, avoiding the playful pup for a moment. Suddenly exhausted, I bent down slowly to pick up the leash and almost fell when Chauncey came bounding out of nowhere. “Chill. One second,” I promised.

  A quick walk, then I could go to bed early. I had better enjoy this extra sleep while I could; I wouldn’t be getting much when I went back to the daily grind of raising a child and working.

  Vacation was almost over, and I would have to return to my less-than-rich reality. That would be fine, though, as long as no one wrote poems about how my home made them feel uncomfortable. And I never became as mean as that man I had met on the beach.

  Chapter Three

  Riker

  I had thought getting rid of the ring would be a step in the right direction, helping me finally put the past in its place and move on. After a week, I wasn’t so sure.

  It might have been, but if it was, it was a slow process. The day after we had played poker at the Hampton’s Peak, I had woken up with no ring, a hangover, and more than a few regrets. Normally, I wouldn’t have been such an open book, wearing my feelings on my sleeve for my best friends to see. But I had gotten a few drinks in me after a rough day, and my feelings had just poured forth from there.

  Nate and Zeke were as supportive friends as anyone could ask for, but they had a limit to their patience. I had lingered in a state of limbo for a couple of months now; twiddling my thumbs and half hoping Hallie would come back - saying she made a mistake and leaving had nothing at all to do with the prenuptial agreement. My two friends knew that was never going to happen. Finally, I had realized it too and come to the conclusion it was time for me to move on.

  That was easier said than done. When we reconvened the next Thursday, last night, for another evening at the club, I had found myself putting up a facade. Nate had asked me how I was doing, and I told him I was fine – a lot more convincingly, this time. Maybe since no other approach had worked so far, I thought I should try to fake it until I made it… as the saying goes.

  Listlessly, I glanced around my massive, empty mansion. This place was supposed to be my home with Hallie. She was supposed to fill these rooms with laughter and make me feel like I was never alone. I wasn’t even sure that I really missed Hallie, not anymore. The idea of her, that was what I missed - the idea of having someone here for me, and here with me.

  I had thought that person was Hallie. She was the first woman I ever loved. I had opened my heart to her, and I thought she felt the same way about me. Then, I came home one day, holding what I thought was a generous prenuptial agreement my lawyer had prepared. It was a formality, and nothing more. Even my parents had one. I just assumed our love was strong enough to hold up to anything - like Mom and Dad’s. So, I figured Hallie wouldn’t even blink at such a customary request.

  Hallie did a lot more than blink. She screamed at me, asking me if I really trusted her so little that we had to agree to a prenup. When I asked her why… asked her why she thought I would not provide for her if our marriage ended in divorce; Hallie had never been able to give me a straight answer. Eventually, when she realized I wasn’t going to change my mind, Hallie packed her things and walked out the door.

  Gold digger. When I told Zeke and Nate the story a few days after she left me, they had called her that. And, well, a few other less flattering names, too. I actually got angry in her defense, saying that there had to be another reason. Yeah, there wasn’t. The guys were spot-on. Hallie was in it for my money and nothing else.

  Shrugging, I downed the last sip of my morning smoothie. There was nothing wrong with being alone. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t like lots of things. Cockroaches, people who didn’t wipe down machines in the gym when they finished working out, holding interviews for new secretaries, people who took boats out but had no idea how to pilot them – those were just a few. If I could deal with those things, I could deal with being alone, too.

  I raised the empty glass in an ironic toast to myself, then set it on the counter to deal with later. That old carefree bachelor life was calling, urging me to go back to hitting the upscale clubs and hooking up with whomever I wanted, whenever I wanted. And right now, I was ready to indulge myself, again. But first, I had a short trip to make – one that I had put off for too long.

  Jeans and a trendy button-up shirt waited for me in my second-floor bedroom, so I changed while looking out the tall windows at the sparkling ocean. I tugged on a pair of comfortable brown boots, checked my hair in the floor-length mirror built into the closet door, and gave myself a nod. “Time to do this,” I told my reflection.

  My Mercedes purred to life, and the garage doors opened to let me onto the street. I smiled to myself when I noticed the pickup truck barreling toward me, and pulled out anyway with a screech of
tires, leaving the truck behind in a cloud of blue smoke.

  I didn’t usually have much reason to go out to Sag Harbor other than to visit the upscale stores once in a while, but today was a special occasion. My lawyer’s office was located there, and I was on my way to undo the last tie to my ex – nullify the prenuptial agreement. It was never signed. So the agreement was just - open - in a state of limbo, like me. If getting rid of the ring hadn’t been enough, maybe today’s visit to Sag Harbor would do the trick.

  I hope I wasn’t supposed to bring the agreement. Hallie had torn it to shreds. But it was only a few simple pieces of paper, and surely they could print another document if necessary. If it’s just a few papers, why did it take you this long to end it? I breezed through a light as it flashed yellow and turned up the music to shut up that accusing part of my brain.

  My appointment was at nine, and I arrived at the law office exactly ten minutes early. “Jason Rutherford Riker III,” I identified myself to the man behind the reception desk. He gave me a quick nod. I figured the guy was raised in the Hamptons since he didn’t flinch when I used my full name. It was customary here if your family name was well known. And, of course, mine is.

  “So, you’re here to nullify a proposed prenuptial agreement, Mr. Riker?”

  “That is correct. Is Devon on time?”

  “As you probably already know, Mr. Liguori’s office is down the hall to the right. You can go on into the conference room and make yourself comfortable. Help yourself to the coffee bar. He’ll be with you in a few moments.”

  “Yes, I’m familiar with his office.”

  “Perfect, I’ll have our legal aide bring you the applicable paperwork so you can look it over while you wait.”