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  “Joshua?”

  Sighing, he turned to find Aunt Ruth picking her way across the gravel in high heels. She looked ridiculous and out of place in her metropolitan chic. “I have to go,” he said.

  “But are you alright? I mean about the brother moving here.”

  He swallowed hard but didn’t feign ignorance. He didn’t want to talk about it, though.

  Ruth tipped her head, touched his shoulder. “Oh, Joshua, still? It’s been eight years, darling. I’d have thought—”

  “I’m fine,” he said, looking away from her concerned gaze. “It’s fine.”

  “I’m sure he won’t come here,” she said, lowering her voice as if Michael might overhear. As if he’d care, even if he knew. “I’m sure you won’t have to see him.”

  Joshua shook his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Finn Callaghan again—he did. But he was afraid that Finn wouldn’t want to see him again, and he didn’t know whether he could handle how much that would hurt. “He’s probably forgotten all about me.”

  “But you haven’t forgotten him.”

  “No.” He dipped his eyes to the driveway, the gravel damp and glistening. “No, I don’t suppose I ever will.”

  She squeezed his arm, more hesitant than she’d been eight years ago. Then she’d been so sure, so convinced she knew what was right—for him, for the family. Even for Finn. “I know it was difficult,” she said, fingers biting into his arm, “but I still believe you made the right decision. To give up everything you had—your education, your place in the business, your home—for...for a summer romance, Joshua? And with a man. It would have been foolish.”

  Pressing his lips together, he resisted telling her that he’d long ago come to believe that there was nothing wrong with a little foolishness. But he’d learned that lesson too late and he couldn’t blame Ruth for having been cautious. She’d tried to do her best for him, tried to fill the gap his mother’s death had left behind.

  “I understand,” he said, offering her the best smile he could muster. “And at the time, staying did feel like the responsible thing to do. But I—I suppose, given how things turned out, I wish I’d made a different choice.”

  “How things turned out?” She dropped her hand from his shoulder.

  He shrugged. “Well, look at me...” No direction, no ambition, and no career beyond a little peripatetic music teaching—certainly not the glittering future everyone had assumed would follow his Harvard MBA. No money, thanks to his father cutting him off when he finally came out, a year after ending things with Finn. And, while less pressing, no less disheartening, no relationship. Joshua remained chronically single.

  “There’s still time,” Ruth said, encompassing his failure at life in one platitude. “Your life’s not over at thirty-one, you know.”

  But he couldn’t agree with her optimism; his life had ended eight years ago—the day he chose his family over Finn Callaghan.

  The day Finn walked out of his life and never looked back.

  Chapter Three

  Joshua had Matt Howard’s piano lesson that afternoon. Not especially gifted, Matt worked hard, which, in Joshua’s experience, counted for much more than talent.

  “Just keep up the practice,” he said, when Liz arrived to collect her son. “Half an hour a day works miracles.”

  Liz smiled and sent Matt out to wait in the car, hanging back with a strange awkwardness. Liz wasn’t often uncomfortable and she and Joshua had worked together at the school since he’d returned to New Milton a couple of years ago—they were friends, he’d thought. But today she was fiddling with her dark hair, pulling it all over one shoulder in a way that made Joshua wonder what on earth she was about to say. Did she want to cancel Matt’s lessons? He’d miss the income, of course, but—

  “So I heard about the house.” Her smile hovered somewhere between sympathy and embarrassment. “I heard it sold.”

  Ah. Joshua let his gaze wander out the window to where Matt leaned against the car, waiting. “Yes, that’s right.”

  “It’s not gossip. I mean, it’s not that people are talking about it. I just heard from Dee that the Realtor had been in for lunch...” Her face turned pink and she grimaced. “Okay, I guess it is kinda gossip, but we mean well. I just—I figure it must be hard for you to see the place sold, even if you’re at odds with your family.”

  He considered his answer. In fact, the sale of the house distressed him less than the idea of Sean Callaghan owning it, of Finn visiting New Milton, of them meeting again. But he couldn’t tell her that. Aside from his father, the only person who’d ever known about his relationship with Finn was Ruth and it was a secret she’d thought best kept. At this point, he agreed. So he just said, “I’m fine. I haven’t considered Hanworth to be my home for a long time.”

  “Still. I just wanted you to know that we’re thinking about you.” He must have looked surprised because she laughed. “You do have friends here, you know, Newt. And if you ever need anything...”

  “A new family?” he suggested wryly and Liz widened her eyes in concern. “Joke,” he assured her. “But thank you, Liz. I appreciate you thinking about me.”

  She put a reassuring hand on his arm. “I mean it. We’re on your side, Newt. And don’t you forget it.”

  * * *

  The next afternoon he had a shift at Dee’s coffee shop. In the summer, in tourist season, he worked there most days, but in the fall there weren’t so many visitors and his hours were fewer. It suited him fine; his rent was cheap and the extra free time was welcome, although he had to work at not becoming a recluse. He found he lacked the energy to put himself out there anymore. People were tiring, conversations were tiring, and he felt so much happier alone with his mediocre piano. He still found solace in music, of course, for which he was profoundly grateful. The day that changed would be the day he really started to worry.

  Dee’s two daughters—Lexa and Ali—had just graduated from college and were both considering their futures. He doubted they’d stay in New Milton for long; the bright lights of New York City were too hard to resist for smart and ambitious young women like them. But right now they were home, drinking coffee in a corner of the coffee shop, talking in hushed tones over a laptop while Joshua worked behind the counter. The only customer was Don Brennan from up at the Majestic, New Milton’s only hotel, so Joshua didn’t mind the girls taking it easy.

  “Saw your old rust bucket out front,” Don said as Joshua pressed the plastic lid onto his coffee. “Looks like a darn death trap. Your front right tire’s as bald as me.”

  “It still gets good mileage,” Joshua said with a raised eyebrow. Don enjoyed tinkering with engines, and Joshua’s total lack of interest in cars had become something of a running joke between them. “And it’s not like I use it all that much. It’ll do for now.”

  Don huffed and pulled out his wallet. “Bring it up to the Majestic sometime, and I’ll look it over for you. Make sure it lasts the winter.”

  Joshua narrowed his eyes at his uncharacteristic generosity. “What’s going on?”

  “Huh?” Don failed to look innocent, and capitulated without a fight. “Oh, fine. I heard about the house. Just trying to, you know... Be neighborly.”

  “By insulting my car?”

  “By offering to—Ah darn it. You know what I mean.”

  Joshua smiled, relenting. “I do. And thank you. That’s—I guess everyone knows about the house, then?”

  “Pretty much.” Don dropped his change into the tip jar. “Can’t keep anything secret around here, boy, you know that.”

  He did, in a way. But it also wasn’t strictly true; he guarded a secret that no one would ever guess.

  As if on cue, Don said, “I heard there’s some TV actor buying the place?”

  Joshua had to swallow hard, but made himself answer. He’d have to get used to talking abou
t Finn as though they were strangers. “The actor’s his brother,” he said, grabbing a cloth and wiping down the spotless counter. “Sean Callaghan is the man buying the house—he’s a lawyer.”

  Don snorted, decidedly unimpressed. “Don’t know what’s worse. Just hope he takes care of the place. Say what you will about your father, he always took care of Hanworth Hall.”

  “Shame he didn’t take care of his business,” Joshua said and regretted it immediately. That was nobody’s problem but his. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”

  “Nah. It’s your family, your right. What the heck do I know about any of it?” Don picked up his coffee. “Guess I’m glad it’s not the actor. Don’t want those Hollywood types up here.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Lexa piped up from the corner. “Finn Callaghan is hot as f—” She checked herself and grinned at Don. “Heck. Hot as heck.” She swiveled her laptop toward him. “Check it out.”

  Don scowled at the image but Joshua didn’t dare look, afraid of what he might reveal.

  “Hmph,” Don said. “Looks like your usual Hollywood type.”

  Ali and Lexa exclaimed in protest.

  “Newt, what do you think?” Ali called. “Come and look.”

  “I, uh—I have to clean the—”

  “C’mon, Newt, you can spare two minutes,” Lexa said. “What do you think? Not bad for our new neighbor?”

  He didn’t want to risk protesting too much, so, heart thumping stupidly—he’d seen recent pictures of Finn, after all—he slipped out from behind the counter and peered at the laptop from as far back as he thought he could get away with. And there he was, looking right into the camera: Finn Callaghan, the man Joshua had loved more than he’d ever loved anyone. The man he’d given up.

  “So?” Ali prompted. “Hot, right?”

  The picture looked like it had been altered—Finn’s eyes had never been that green, nor his teeth so straight and white, nor his lips quite so pink—but basically Finn was just as he remembered.

  “He’s very attractive,” he said and retreated back behind the counter. “I think he’s had his teeth capped, though.”

  Ali waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, they all do that. It’s, like, literally part of the job.”

  “Put him in a dress,” Don said with a sniff, “and you could take him to the prom.”

  Joshua smiled. The Finn he knew—had known—was anything but girlish, despite his classically beautiful features.

  “C’mon, Don,” Lexa protested. “You can’t say things like that.”

  “Says who?”

  “Uh, like, the twenty-first century?”

  “I don’t care what—”

  “Just don’t be rude when you meet him,” Ali said, diverting the argument. “You’ll need to watch your manners then, Don.”

  “I don’t plan on meeting him.”

  “Oh, you will,” Ali said. Joshua felt a spike of panic at her certainty. “He’ll definitely come visit his brother. Apparently they’re real close. Also, he’s totally single again after he broke up with that Amy Robinson from Beverly Hills High.”

  “And how on earth do you know that?” Don said.

  Lexa rolled her eyes. “The internet?”

  Don snorted but Joshua found himself gripping the rag he’d used to wipe down the counter. He knew for a fact that Finn and Sean were close. Finn had talked about his little brother nonstop that summer, about how he couldn’t wait to get out to LA and see him again, about how much he wanted Joshua to meet him... How he’d thought they’d get on, because Sean was “as big a nerd as you are, dude.” The memory, fresh and sharp, pulled a painful lump into his throat.

  No, Ali wasn’t wrong. It was very likely that Finn would visit his brother. Only, surely not soon. Not immediately. Joshua needed more time than that. He wasn’t ready.

  “The first step,” Ali told Lexa, “is to get to know Sean. Then he can introduce us to Finn.” She pressed her hands to her chest in excitement. “Oh my God, can you believe it? Finn freakin’ Callaghan!”

  * * *

  As it turned out, Joshua got precisely eleven and a half days to prepare. It wasn’t nearly enough.

  Michael called to say that the sale had gone through—and to ask how far Joshua had gotten with selling the unwanted content (answer: nowhere)—and the very next day New Milton was buzzing with talk of Sean Callaghan driving up from New York to scope out his new home.

  Joshua stayed out of town. Lexa and Ali had the coffee shop covered, both hoping Sean would visit for lunch because where else in New Milton would he go? Joshua gave them his shift with pleasure.

  He told himself he wasn’t hiding when he headed out toward the cliffs, walking past the old Majestic Hotel and into the bracing wind, head down and hands in the pockets of his old Gore-Tex jacket. The ocean raged, whipped up by the wind, crashing and booming at the base of the cliffs. Days like this were made for poets, but Joshua was no poet. He couldn’t write out the empty space in his heart, couldn’t convert hollow regrets into meaningful words. He simply felt. Later, perhaps, Chopin.

  There were lights on at Hanworth Hall. He saw them from the opposite side of the bay as the afternoon started to fail, and let his eyes trail down from the Hall to the beach below. He didn’t let himself think about that summer often, setting those memories to one side, but today he gave himself permission. Today, he allowed his eyes to run over the dunes, allowed himself to remember the sun on his skin, a joy like heat. A hope and optimism he’d never known again.

  Finn, Finn, Finn.

  Part of him wondered whether, if they met again, something between them might rekindle. But the rest of him knew it wouldn’t. Finn had never been shy about getting what he wanted—his resolve had been one of the things that drew Joshua to him—and if Finn had wanted to contact him, he’d have done it.

  Joshua had tried himself, once. After his father threw him out he’d headed to LA, following the same golden road to the future that Finn had driven a year earlier, and left a message and his number at the studio where Finn was working. For weeks—months—afterward he’d jumped every time his phone rang, but Finn had never called and Joshua hadn’t tried to contact him again. Besides, Finn’s long string of high-profile girlfriends suggested that Ruth had been right all those years ago: a boyfriend would not have been conducive to Finn’s career and, if Joshua hadn’t ended it when he did, things would probably have fallen apart in the end. Either way, it made no difference now. Finn had evidently moved on.

  He stood for some time watching the trees bowing away from the wind, their branches making the lights from Hanworth Hall dance. He watched until it started to rain in earnest and then he turned for home before it got too dark to be on the cliffs.

  That evening, once he’d dried off, he ate soup from a can and practiced Chopin’s Etude Opus 10 No. 3 until his fingers ached. But it didn’t fill the hollow in his chest.

  * * *

  “Newt!” Lexa shouted at him from across the street the next morning. “Wait up!”

  Luckily, he couldn’t stop because he was heading up to school to take his morning lessons. Not that it deterred Lexa, and she darted over the road to join him. “You’ll never guess what happened,” she said, falling into step beside him.

  “Okay.” Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to try.

  “So he totally came into the coffee shop yesterday!”

  It took a second for him to swallow because apparently the cliché was true and his heart had leaped into his throat. “F-Finn—?”

  “No!” Lexa laughed. “Sean. And his wife, Tejana. She’s gorgeous, by the way. And so’s he, which of course he would be.”

  Joshua managed to say, “Oh.”

  “Yeah, he was so adorable,” Lexa carried on, oblivious to Joshua’s turmoil. “And tall—Oh my God! Anyway, he was really cute and was asking us about the town and I
was telling him we’d be neighbors, and he said that was cool and that he was going to have a housewarming barbecue next weekend and that we should all come!” She grinned at him. “Isn’t that awesome?”

  Joshua nodded. “Yes, very friendly.”

  “Totally. But that’s not even the best bit.” She bounced on her toes, turning to walk backward in childlike glee. “The best bit is that Finn’s going to be there!”

  Which was when the bottom fell out of Joshua’s stomach. “Oh...”

  “I know! He’s coming for the weekend or something—actually Sean didn’t know when he was getting here, but he’s definitely going to be at the barbecue. Oh God, I have like a week to lose six pounds.”

  Joshua had a week to come up with an excuse. Perhaps he could invent a dead grandmother whose funeral he needed to attend? In China.

  But then he realized that Sean probably hadn’t intended to invite him at all. Wouldn’t it be weird to invite the son of the disgraced tycoon whose house you’d just bought in a fire sale? Relieved, although shaky at the thought of Finn in that house, of all places, he composed himself enough to say, “It sounds very exciting.”

  “Right? I mean, when does anything like that ever happen around here?”

  For the rest of the day, Joshua couldn’t think about anything except the fact that Finn would be in his father’s house—that he’d be sleeping in the place where it had all started, and ended, between them. And that Finn would be remembering Joshua. It would be impossible for him not to.

  What he’d remember was another question entirely, and another good reason why Sean wouldn’t be inviting Joshua to his party. Finn must have told him what had happened all those years ago and Sean, being a good brother, wouldn’t want to make things awkward.

  On one hand he found that a comforting thought, on the other it just deepened his isolation. He stood outside all the excitement erupting in New Milton, an unlucky but familiar place to be. He’d been on the outside all his life.

  By Wednesday, excitement levels had reached fever pitch. Joshua had an afternoon shift at the coffee shop, and an extra one the following morning because Lexa and Ali were going clothes shopping and doing something called “threading” to their eyebrows. It sounded painful.