Reunited with the Billionaire Page 2

  “Good for her.”

  “Yeah, I said that, too. She put in new bathrooms, did some stuff in the kitchen….”

  Wendy tried to concentrate, but it was hard. They were approaching a traffic light that marked an intersection whose claim to fame was two mini-malls, one on either side of the road. The Burger Barn was a couple of miles past them.

  Minutes after that, they would reach Cooper’s Corner.

  Her heart gave a little lurch. She was almost home, and nothing that really mattered had changed. The roads were the same, and when they got to town, it would be the same, too. The village green, with its bronze Minuteman standing eternal guard; Main Street and its bundled-up tourists, eager to soak up what they saw as an authentic bit of New England. The windows of the little antique and crafts shops would still be bright with Christmas displays, even though the holiday was over.

  The traffic light went from green to amber. The car slowed to a stop and a small knot of people crossed to the mall on the opposite side of the road. Wendy stared out the window. It was hard to identify anyone. People were hunched into their coats, ducking their heads against the snow. Not that she was searching for anyone in particular. Not that she was looking for—

  “…Seth,” Alison said.

  “What about him?”

  She thought she’d spoken calmly, but from the way Alison looked at her, she knew she hadn’t quite pulled it off.

  “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I was so busy trying to bring you up to date on what’s been happening that I… Just forget I mentioned him, okay?”

  “Allie, there’s no problem. Come on. What were you going to say?”

  “Just that Seth did the carpentry at Twin Oaks.”

  “Seth is a carpenter?”

  “A really good one. And it turns out he’s got a talent for building fine furniture, too. From the looks of things, he’s doing…” She hesitated. “Wendy? You sure you want to hear all this?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? The past is the past.” Wendy cleared her throat. “It’s just a surprise, that’s all. When he and I… When I left town, Seth was taking business courses at the Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts.”

  “Yeah. I remember. He quit MCLA after your, uh, your accident. He went to work for somebody in Stockbridge, and a couple of years ago he opened his own shop here.” Alison hesitated. “He still doesn’t know you’re coming home?”

  “No.” Wendy looked at Alison. “Not unless you told him. You didn’t, did you? Allie?”

  “Of course not,” Alison said, a little stiffly. “You asked me not to.”

  “Sorry.”

  “That’s all right.”

  It wasn’t, and Wendy knew it. She reached across the console and touched the other woman’s hand.

  “Allie,” she said in a low voice, “it’s…it’s harder than I figured, you know? Coming home, I mean. So much time’s gone by…” She swallowed hard. “Maybe I’m more tired than I realized.”

  “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to jump on you.” The light changed to green and Alison stepped on the gas. “I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to see him. I mean, it’s been a long time, but you and Seth—”

  “There is no `me and Seth.’ There hasn’t been for years.”

  “Yeah. That’s the point. When you left for Norway, you two were crazy about each other. The next thing we knew, it was all over. Seth wouldn’t talk about you, wouldn’t even say your name. And then you didn’t come back, and we all wondered—”

  “There’s nothing to wonder.” Wendy’s voice turned cool. “I’d think people would have better things to do with their time than gossip.”

  “It wasn’t gossip.” Alison slowed the car again, signaled a right and turned into the Burger Barn parking lot. She pulled into a space, shut off the engine and looked at Wendy. “We all cared about you. The whole town turned out to see you off. Remember? There were signs in the windows on Main Street, everything from Good Luck to Our Wendy to Bring Back the Gold. When you got hurt—”

  “Allie.” Wendy put her hand over Alison’s. “That’s history. The Olympics, the accident, Seth…it’s all in the past. I have a new life now.”

  “So does he.”

  The simple words fell between them, as heavy as stones. Wendy looked at Alison. “You mean, that he’s become a carpenter?”

  “Well, sure.” Alison fell silent, averted her gaze. “And—and other things.”

  “Other things?” Wendy moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Ah. I see.” Could she sound casual about this? Yes. Of course she could. Funny that she’d never thought to ask before. “You mean, he’s married?”

  “No. But he’s seeing someone. Her name’s—”

  “I don’t need to know her name. Who Seth dates is none of my business.”

  “It’s more than dating. They’ve been going together for a couple of months.” Alison shot a glance in Wendy’s direction. “I guess I shouldn’t have dumped the news on you like that, huh?”

  “Don’t be silly.” Wendy stretched her lips in what she hoped was a semblance of a smile. “You know, if we sit here much longer, we’ll freeze.”

  “Meaning, `Alison, that’s enough of that.’“

  Wendy tried another smile. “Meaning, did you or didn’t you promise me a hamburger at the Barn?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Alison said, but she didn’t move. “There’s one other thing. I know you said this was just a visit, but I hoped… You really aren’t staying, are you.”

  Wendy shook her head. “No,” she said quietly, “I’m not.” She looked at Alison. “Does the name Rod Pommier mean anything to you?”

  “Should it?”

  “He’s a surgeon. From New York.”

  “What kind?” Alison gave a quick laugh. “If he’s a plastic surgeon, maybe my nose and I will go to see him.”

  Wendy knew it was a desperate attempt to lighten the situation, but nothing could do that. First all the talk about Seth, and now this. Well, telling Allie would be a dress rehearsal for telling her mother. Go for it, she thought, and took a steadying breath.

  “He’s an orthopedic surgeon. They wrote him up in a zillion papers and magazines a few months ago.” Wendy lifted her hands and stretched out an imaginary banner. “`Rod Pommier,’“ she said in solemn tones, “`the brilliant young surgeon who’s developed a break-through bonding technique for healing shattered bones….’“

  “Yeah? So what about…” Alison blinked. “Shattered bones?”

  “Uh-huh. When the doctors pieced my leg together, they used pins and plates. That’s what they’ve done for decades. But Pommier’s found a new technique that allows joints to regenerate normally.”

  “Interesting, I guess, except you just said your leg is already fixed.”

  “Pommier’s method would make it as good as new. The thing is, he’s not taking on new patients. He’s booked for the next umpteen years, and besides, the procedure can be dangerous.”

  “Dangerous how?”

  “I don’t know. It has something to do with whether your bones are right for the technique or not.” Wendy gave a brittle laugh. “Of course, the real question is, if your bones don’t work right in the first place, how can they be wrong for it? Anyhow, I phoned Pommier. His receptionist wouldn’t put me through. I called the hospital where he’s on staff. They wouldn’t put me through, either. So I wrote him a letter, gave him a rough rundown on my accident…”

  “And?”

  “And,” Wendy said with a defeated sigh, “I got a letter back. He was very polite. He said he was sympathetic to my situation, yadda yadda yadda, but—”

  “But he wasn’t interested.” Alison smiled sadly. “Sounds like a message on my answering machine after a blind date with some guy who’s a jerk.”

  “That’s just the thing, though. I don’t think he’s a jerk. I think he’s just wrong about not wanting to take me on. If I can talk to him, face-to-face, I can change his mind.”

  “Are y
ou so sure this new thing he’s invented can help you? You had your accident years ago. The surgery—”

  “The surgery,” Wendy said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “was a disaster. It wasn’t the doctor’s fault. He did everything he could, but pins and plates can’t make up for missing bone. This technique of Pommier’s can.”

  “You think?”

  “I know.” She tapped her fist lightly against her breastbone. “I can feel it. Maybe that’s not the most scientific appraisal, but it’s what I feel. I just need to talk to him, but he’s wary. And I understand why. Pommier’s being hounded to death by the media, by desperate patients….” Alison raised a brow, and Wendy colored. “Right,” she said, with something close to defiance, “desperate patients like me. That’s why he’s coming to Cooper’s Corner.”

  Alison’s jaw dropped. “Huh? Wendy, honey, you’re losing me here.”

  “Pommier wants to get away from everything for a few days. He’s coming to the Berkshires to ski. My dad’s a member of the ski club, remember? Well, so’s an orthopedist from Pittsfield who’s a friend of my father’s. It turns out he and Pommier did their residencies together, and Pommier wrote to him, asked him about the town, whether it was as off the track as it seems, and if he could recommend a place to stay.” Wendy caught her breath. “Hey. I bet he’s going to stay at the old Cooper place. Twin Oaks.”

  “If he’s this big-deal celebrity, wouldn’t he stay in Lenox? Or in Stockbridge? I mean, I love Cooper’s Corner, but you have to admit it’s not big on glitzy amenities.”

  “That’s the point, Allie. The man wants to be just another face in the crowd. No reporters. No microphones and cameras.”

  “I see.” Alison let out a breath. It had grown chilly inside the car, and her exhalation puffed out like steam. She turned on the engine and gave a little shiver as heat began to seep from the vents. “So, that’s why you came back. To corner this guy.”

  “Yes.”

  “And convince him to operate on you.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Do your folks know? ‘Cause when I spoke to your mom the other day, all she could talk about was how thrilled she was that you were coming home.”

  “My dad knows. My mother doesn’t. Don’t look at me that way. Don’t you think I feel guilty enough? I just think it’s best to tell her with my father there as backup.” Wendy sighed. “You have a face like an open book, Alison. You think this is a bad idea, don’t you?”

  “I sure do. You said yourself the surgery’s risky. Well, why subject yourself to it?”

  “Because I want a life, that’s why!”

  “You have one. You lived when they thought you wouldn’t. Isn’t that enough?”

  “No, damn it, it isn’t. Look, it’s hard to explain, but I’m not who I used to be. Can’t you see that?”

  “Yes,” Alison said after a minute, “I can. So, you’re home just to get to this doctor. Not because of your mom or your dad or Seth—”

  “Seth again!” Wendy flushed. “What does he have to do with this? I was eighteen. He was nineteen. Whatever we had was kid stuff.”

  “That’s not how I remember it. You guys were always together. You had plans.”

  “I just told you, it was—”

  “Kid stuff. I heard you. But I was here when we all got word of the accident. How you’d fallen on that practice run—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Wendy said sharply.

  “Seth was like a crazy man. He flew to Norway on the first flight out—”

  “Stop it! That was a thousand years ago.”

  “It was nine years ago, and I’ve never forgotten how he looked, like somebody whose world had been destroyed.”

  “It was my world that was destroyed,” Wendy cried, “and I did whatever I had to do to survive.” The friends stared at each other, each breathing hard. Then Wendy turned away and grabbed the door handle. A frosty breath of snow blew into the car. “I can walk home from here.”

  “Don’t be a fool.” Alison reached past Wendy, caught the handle and slammed the door shut. The women glared at each other for a couple of minutes and then Alison sighed. “Can we continue this conversation inside?”

  No. They couldn’t, Wendy realized. All the talk about Seth and old times…the look on Alison’s face when she’d tried to explain that she couldn’t accept the path her life had taken… It had been confirmation that her original plan was the wisest one. Lie low, stay away from the old hangouts, and avoid going through this horrible little scene and the pity of old friends who couldn’t understand why she wasn’t grateful just to have survived.

  “Wendy? Are we going for that burger or not?”

  “I think I’ll pass,” Wendy said quietly. “My folks are expecting me.”

  Alison nodded. “Of course.” She put the car in gear, backed out of the parking space, then put on the brakes and glared at Wendy again. “I’m your oldest friend! If I can’t tell you the truth, who can?”

  “You don’t know the truth,” Wendy said, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “I’m the one this happened to. Me, not you, or the doctors, or the nurses, or the therapists with their sympathetic looks and endless exercises.” She pushed down her hood and dragged her hands through her tumbled auburn curls. “Sometimes I wish I’d died that day, instead of waking up in a hospital bed and finding out that—that…”

  “What? That you were alive? That you still had both your legs? I don’t understand you. Don’t you ever stop to think how lucky you were?”

  “I’m trying to move on, Allie. Don’t you understand that?”

  “By pretending Seth doesn’t exist? By trying to force a doctor into surgery that might do more harm than good?”

  “Seth’s got somebody. You just told me that. And the doctor will want to do this operation once he talks to me.” Wendy shook her head. “You’re right. I lived. I got out of a wheelchair I was never supposed to get out of. But this woman, the one who can’t do the things she once did—this woman is a stranger. I can’t help it if that sounds selfish. It’s the way I feel.”

  “You’re right,” Alison said quietly. “I don’t understand.” She looked at Wendy and smiled, though her eyes glittered with tears. “But I don’t have to. I’m your friend. I’ll stand by you, no matter what. Okay?”

  Wendy nodded, even though it was more than okay. The pledge, the compassion in Alison’s eyes… Wendy felt her own eyes fill. For one improbable moment, she thought of letting all the pain inside her spill out. The truth was so much more complex than anyone knew. Maybe if she shared her awful secret…

  She knew better. It wouldn’t change a thing.

  Her heart, not just her body, had been broken in pieces on a winter’s day nine years ago. Looking in the mirror, seeing her scarred, twisted flesh was a constant reminder of what she’d almost had, what she’d lost, what she’d never have again. Now she could only pin her hopes on a time when she could stare at her reflection and see a whole Wendy instead of a shattered one. Then, perhaps, the agony would turn into a pain she could live with.

  “Wendy?” Alison said softly.

  She looked up, saw the confusion in her friend’s eyes. “Yes. I heard what you said. Thank you. You’re the best friend in the world.”

  The women gave each other wobbly smiles, then Alison scraped her hand across her eyes. “If you make me cry,” she said gruffly, “and my mascara runs, I’m never going to forgive you.”

  “Too late. It’s already running.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yours, too, so don’t look so smug.”

  They gave each other sharp looks. Then they laughed, reached out and hugged.

  “It’s good to have you home,” Alison said, “even if it’s just for a little while.”

  “And it’s good to be here.” Wendy pulled a couple of tissues from her pocket and handed one to Alison. “Even if it’s just for a little while.”

  Alison wiped her eye
s and blew her nose. She started the car again and they drove to Cooper’s Corner, turned down a familiar old street and stopped in front of a handsome house with bay windows and flower boxes that Wendy knew would overflow with pink and lavender impatiens all summer.

  She stepped from the car just as the front door opened. Her mother and father stood poised in the doorway. Then Gina laughed and ran down the steps, with Howard right behind her, and just for a moment, as Wendy went into their sheltering arms, she had to admit that home was the best place in the world.

  CHAPTER TWO

  IT WAS, Seth Castleman thought, the worst possible kind of day to be wrestling with Santa Claus on a sloped, snow-covered roof.

  Almost six inches of snow had been predicted overnight, and that was exactly what had fallen. Those six inches, coming hot on the heels of an earlier storm, had been enough to make taking down the ten-foot Santa figure a nasty, fairly dangerous job.

  “I hate to ask you,” Philo Cooper had told Seth when he phoned at nine that morning, “but I can’t reach the guy who rented it to me up in Pittsfield and it’s due back tomorrow. His answering machine’s on but maybe he’s away.”

  “In Florida, if he’s got half a brain,” Seth had said dryly. “I’ll stop by later this afternoon.”

  “Thanks, Seth.”

  “No problem,” Seth had replied, which wasn’t really true. It was a problem to move around on the pitched roof with ice under your boots. But the job was simple, and he was almost finished. The Santa was now in the back of Philo’s truck and Seth had just one more brace to remove.

  Actually, the view from here, twelve feet above Main Street, was pretty interesting. The town looked like a Currier and Ives Christmas card. Spruce boughs, accented with big silver balls that dangled and swayed in the wind, were wired to a cable that stretched from one side of the street to the other, and holly wreaths hung on the old-fashioned lampposts. It wouldn’t be long before all those decorations were taken down, too.

  Seth pulled out another nail from the brace.

  Cooper’s Corner was beautiful all year, but winter was special. He’d first seen the town in December a long, long time ago. He’d been eighteen then, a sullen kid who’d bounced from one New York City foster home to another, with no bigger plan than to find a job at one of the ski resorts, make a few bucks and then move on. But he’d found something here, not just a job but a way of life that had turned his life around.