Anything But Mine (19 page)

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Authors: Barbara Justice

BOOK: Anything But Mine
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As Jen flipped through the stapled-
together
sheets, all color drained from her face, and she began to shake. “What the…,” was all she was able to utter before she became light-
headed
and sank into a chair.

 

“Jennifer, what’s wrong?” When she didn’t answer, Vince pleaded with her, “Tell me what is going on.”

 

“He…he found me,” was all she could manage to say in response. “It says, ‘It took a long time for me to find you.’” She flipped the page, and said, “This is a photo of me from this afternoon, by the pool.”

 

“No…,” Vince said, sitting down next to Jennifer.

 

Turning the page, Jen continued reading, “Too bad your boyfriend showed up.” She turned the page, and said, “Oh, God. This is us, when you arrived here today.”

 

“A photo of us kissing, of me holding you close,” Vince observed, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

Jen turned the page again, and gulped for air, before reading aloud, “I had wanted to finish what we started.” Hands shaking, she turned to the next page, revealing a photo of her tied up on the bed in her Brooklyn apartment, with her pants pushed down. “Oh my God. No, no, no,” she wailed.

 

“Give that to me,” Vince said, snatching the envelope and photos from Jen’s shaking hands. Putting them to the side, he took her in his arms, and stroked her back. “I’m here, and I’ll protect you. You know that I’ll never let anything bad happen to you, right?”

 

Jen clung to Vince, burying her head against his chest. She nodded in response, but said nothing as she wiped away her tears with Vince’s shirt.
I’ll never be able to move home to Brooklyn now,
she thought.
It’s not safe. I’m not safe unless I’m with Vince.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

M
emorial Day weekend marks the unofficial start of summer in the Hamptons, when the populations of the small villages and hamlets on the east end of Long Island swell by the tens of thousands. To usher in the season, the LaBella family hosted their annual cocktail party and barbecue on the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend, when friends and family, both local and from the city, congregated around the pool, on the lawn, and on the deck of Grace and Peter’s Southampton farm house for good food, cool drinks, and topical conversation.

 

That morning, before the guests arrived, Vince joined Peter on the back deck, while Jen, Grace and Jen’s younger sister, Gina, prepped food in the kitchen. Jen slid open the sliding glass door leading from the living room to the deck, and asked, “Dad, Vince, can I get you anything to drink?”

 

“A glass of water would be great, my love,” Vince replied with a smile, and Peter requested the same.

When Jen returned with a pitcher of ice water with lemon slices and two glasses a few moments later, Vince grabbed her around the waist and pulled her towards him.

 

Peter watched carefully as Vince kissed his oldest daughter before she went back inside the house. Once she was out of earshot, Peter said, “So, Vince, Jen has been staying with you for quite a while now. How much longer do you think it will be necessary for her to live with you?”

 

“The police haven’t caught her attacker yet, Peter. I just want to keep her safe, especially after the incident last week. I’m sure she told you that her driver, Pablo, and his wife, Lucy, will be living out here with her for the summer, and that I hired Lucy to be her full-
time
housekeeper. We can’t take any chances, now that her stalker knows the location of her house. I’m sure you want her to be safe too.”

 

“Of course, Vince, we all want that.” Peter paused as he chose his words carefully, “But I have my concerns, as a parent.”

 

“Concerns?” Vince bided his time, waiting to see what Peter had on his mind before continuing with his own thoughts and agenda for the conversation.

 

“Yes, Vince. My daughter is young. She’s only 24. You’re 41, right? And you’ve never been married. I’m concerned about the 17 year age difference, that you’re closer to my age than to Jen’s. I know that, one day, she would like to be married and have children. And, frankly, I don’t know what your intentions are towards my daughter. My main concern is that she isn’t hurt—
by
you or by anyone else.”

 

The corners of Vince’s mouth turned upward, and he grinned, momentarily disarming Peter. “We share the same concerns, Peter, because we both love Jennifer very much. It wasn’t my plan to speak with you about my ‘intentions’ this weekend, although I had planned to do so sometime soon.”

 

He paused to take a sip of water before continuing, “Even though it has only been a short period of time, the months Jennifer and I have spent together have been intense, and we are very much in love. I want to marry her, and have a family with her, and because of our age difference, the sooner the better. You know that, materially, I can give her anything she desires, but more importantly, I will love her and take care of her forever. I plan on asking Jennifer to marry me, and when I do, I hope to have your blessing.”

 

This is not the way I pictured this conversation going, damn it,
thought Peter.
He didn’t ask for my permission, just my blessing. How can I refuse to give my blessing?
“I have concerns that you keep Jen on a tight leash, so to speak, and it seems, at least to me, that you are very possessive, too possessive, of her. You have her watched at all times. She is going to suffocate, sooner or later, if she doesn’t get some freedom and time alone.”

 

When Vince nodded his head but said nothing, Peter continued, “I know you are going to want a pre-
nuptial
agreement, and you are going to have to be more than fair, more than generous with my daughter, and make sure she is well taken care of in the event the relationship dissolves.”

 

Vince nodded his head again, and simply said, “Of course.” They sat quietly for a few moments, before Vince asked, “So, Peter, do I have your blessing?”

 

Peter sighed, and stared at Vince for a moment before begrudgingly extending his hand. “Yes, you do,” he replied. As Vince shook his hand, Peter continued, “Just take good care of my daughter, Vince, because she is incredibly precious to me and to Grace.”

The night of the Fresh Air Fund’s annual fundraising dinner at an oceanfront mansion on Meadow Lane in Southampton was dry and clear, perfect for the post-
dinner
fireworks show. Jennifer wore a simple halter-
top
sea foam green maxi dress and gold sandals, perfectly coordinating with Vince’s khakis and green striped oxford shirt. As they held hands and made their way through the crowd during the cocktail hour, they were photographed repeatedly, making it clear that they had become the “it” couple of the summer.

 

They complemented each other well, with Jennifer greeting many of the Hamptons mainstays, who she knew from summering there her entire life, while Vince shook hands with the other Wall Street tycoons who were assembled at the event.

 

More than a few of the guests at the party asked Vince when he planned on buying his own place in the Hamptons, and it bothered him enough that when he found himself seated at the same table as Alan Piersall, who had brokered the sale of the Deer Run property to Jennifer, and who was one of the top local real estate brokers, he began to explore his options for a home of his own. “Jennifer’s house is comfortable,” he said, gesturing towards where she was seated at another table, “but I need something that is more appropriate for where I am in life, something either on the ocean or within the estate section.”

“I tried to convince Jen to buy a home south of the highway when she was looking at property, but she was adamant that she wanted to be in the woods, north of the highway and near her parents’ farm,” replied Alan. “There are a number of spectacular properties that are available at the moment, both on the ocean and just off the water. Do you have a specific location in mind?”

 

“My strong preference is to be in Southampton, although if the property is truly special, I’d look elsewhere on the east end,” Vince said. “But for my own reasons I want to be in Southampton.”

 

Alan took a business card out of his pocket, and handed it to Vince. “I’ll put together a portfolio of the top properties right away. When are you available to start looking?”

 

“Anytime, but I’d prefer to do it on a weekday, so Jennifer doesn’t find out about it. I’ll fly out for the day when you have some properties for me to look at,” Vince replied, as he handed one of his own cards to Alan. “Again, please don’t mention any of this to Jennifer. I want to surprise her, once I’ve narrowed down some possible choices.”

 

“Of course. You can be assured of my complete discretion.”

 

After dinner, the party moved outdoors, where the guests were treated to an elaborate fireworks display over the beach. A chill had crept into the evening air, and Vince stood directly behind Jen, wrapping his arms around her to help keep her warm. “I missed sitting with you tonight, my love,” Vince said, happy that they were finally reunited. “I hate the way these society matrons seat couples at separate tables.”

 

“I know, but it was just for a little while,” Jen replied. “You had a good group of people at your table, though. I noticed you had a long conversation with Alan Piersall.”

 

She doesn’t miss a thing,
Vince thought. “Yes, he’s an interesting person, and well-
versed
in his field.” Changing the subject, he continued, “You didn’t look too pleased to be seated next to Jim Flanagan.”

 

“No, I wasn’t. He’s destroying the Hamptons with those cookie-
cutter
‘McMansions’ on all the farmland he’s bought up. He actually had the nerve to ask me if I’d intercede with my parents on his behalf, to try to talk them into selling their farm to him, but I refused. He’d just take our 40 acres and put 80 houses on it. He has to be stopped.”

 

“Everyone has to make a living, Jennifer,” Vince said. “Shouldn’t he be able to make a living too?”

 

“Not at the expense of the local landscape,” she snapped. “Do you know he said that if he bought my family’s farm, he’d call the new road in the development LaBella Lane? As if that would change my mind, and my family’s mind,” Jen added, her voice laced with disgust.

 

“I’ve never seen you so passionate about an issue before,” Vince said, admiringly. “It’s a side of you I haven’t seen.”

 

“There are many sides to me,” Jen said, still tense, as she caught a glimpse of Jim Flanagan’s profile in her peripheral vision.

 

“Maybe you should devote some time, and use your celebrity status to help the Peconic Land Trust.”

“That’s a great idea,” Jen agreed, finally calming down. “I make donations every year, but I never thought of approaching them with the idea of my headlining a fundraising campaign. Thanks,” she said, squeezing Vince’s hand. “Let’s enjoy the rest of the fireworks.”

When the fireworks show was over, they said their goodnights, and walked down the driveway, where Pablo was waiting for them behind the wheel of Vince’s black Mercedes SUV. As they drove away, Vince remained quiet, staring out the window as they passed the tall hedges and gates that bordered the large estates on their way back to Jennifer’s modest-
by
-
comparison
home in the woods.

 

Once they were back at Deer Run, Jen kicked off her shoes in the entryway and said, “What a magical night! I loved the fireworks, didn’t you?”

 

Vince pulled her close. “I did. In fact, it was such a great evening, that I don’t want it to end.” He took her by the hand, and said, “Come with me.” He led her into the kitchen, where he removed a bottle of champagne from the refrigerator and plucked two champagne flutes from a nearby cabinet. He grinned when he saw the surprised look on her face, and gestured towards the patio door. “Let’s go outside and look at the stars.”

 

“Okay,” Jen said, as she slipped her shoes back on before following Vince out the French doors to the patio, and down the steps into the backyard. They walked towards the pool, where Jen sat down on one of the double-
width
lounge chairs while she watched Vince expertly open the bottle of champagne and pour them each a glass.

 

“To the most beautiful woman in the world, and the greatest love of my life,” he said as he raised his glass in a toast to Jen.

 

“Aww, thank you, Vince,” she said, blushing. When he remained standing, Jen patted the space next to her on the lounge chair. “Don’t you want to sit down and join me?”

 

This is it,
he thought. Vince took the champagne flute from Jen and placed it on a nearby table. He dropped to one knee and took her hands in his, before clearing his throat. “Jennifer, I love you, and more than anything in the world, I want you to be my wife and have my children. Will you marry me?”

 

Jen gasped, and was at a loss for words, completely stunned by Vince’s proposal. She focused on Vince, before her on one knee, holding her hands and waiting for her answer. After a few seconds of silence, she felt Vince tighten his grip on her hands, and she knew she had to answer him. She took a deep breath, and said, “Yes, Vince, I’ll marry you.”

 

Vince exhaled in relief, and loosened his grip on Jen’s hands. He joined her on the lounge chair, pulling her into a tight embrace. “You have no idea how happy you just made me, Jennifer.” He released her in order to reach into his pants pocket, and retrieved a small velvet box. Vince opened the box to reveal a sparkling six carat oval-
cut
diamond set in platinum with tapered baguette diamonds on either side. He removed the ring from the box and placed it on her left ring finger. “A perfect fit –
just
like us.”

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