Slow Summer Burn: A Loveswept Contemporary Romance (5 page)

“Just fine, Junior,” she responded, kicking off her shoes. “I’ve been a bit busy at work and with events. I saw your dad last night at the awards ceremony, and I meant to call you. Did the press conference go well today?”

“Of course. I had no doubt that it would.”

“Nor did I,” she responded quickly.

“No. I suppose you didn’t.” Was there a hint of sarcasm in his voice? He cleared his
throat. “Believe me, I wasn’t happy to miss the ceremony last night, but my team thought it best if I prepped for the press conference instead. From what I understand, Dad did a great job. He got to dance with you, didn’t he?”

She couldn’t help but smile. To the world, Edward Kirkland, Sr. was a famous congressman who’d done some fine work in the immigration sphere, but to her, he was just Uncle Ted. “That he did. Isn’t there any way you could take a break? You sound like you’ve been working as hard as I have.”

He chuckled. “I’ve missed you, Cameron. Why don’t you join me for dinner next weekend and we can catch up? We could go to Garibaldi’s. I know how much you love that place.”

She did love Garibaldi’s, but the problem was that the press loved Junior. She’d been out with him before—multiple times, at her mother’s insistence. At first, things were just fine, if she could forget about the lack of chemistry between them. Junior was exactly like every other society guy—polite and poised—but at least she was comfortable with him and he was interesting. She liked the fact that even though he could have coasted on his family name, he seemed to have a genuine passion for his work. He always knew how to make her laugh, and she knew he didn’t care a whit about the size of her trust fund. It made sense. His own family was as powerful and well connected as hers, and Junior was an intelligent man.

Unfortunately, once his bid for district attorney was announced, things had become more difficult. The last time they’d gone out, the date was fine, but the next day, her photograph appeared in an online gossip rag with the caption:
Front-runner for DA and socialite seen getting cozy over dinner
. She’d never been keen to have the kind of life her mother clearly envisioned for her—attending notable charity events, hanging on the arm of her powerful husband, appropriately dressed for every occasion, and of course, bearing him the requisite number of children to continue the empire. And she knew with the utmost clarity that if she followed things through with Junior, her life would never be lived on her own terms. It would always be on his—on perfecting his image and preparing for his future campaigns.

“I’d like to see you again, Cameron,” Junior said, his voice breaking into her thoughts, and she realized she hadn’t spoken for a few long moments. She jumped into gear quickly.

“Oh, Junior, I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’ll be in Star Harbor for a couple of weeks doing inventory on my boutique.” It was the truth, and while she genuinely wanted to see him, she was
relieved to have an excuse to miss a public outing.

“Of course, I understand,” he said smoothly. “We’ll make a date for when you return. Why don’t you email me and we can set something up.”

“That sounds nice, Junior. I’ll do that.”

“Good night, Cameron.”

“Good night.”

She hung up the phone, then placed it and her bag on the hall table. Junior had a straightforward approach to everything—whether it was putting criminals away or improving his golf handicap—and he always seemed to be 100 percent focused on the task. Cameron knew that he saw other women, but he’d made it clear that when he was ready to settle down, she would be his choice. She could do worse. Junior was nice. Nice … and safe. Two words she would never use to describe the other man who seemed to have snuck his way into her consciousness—Val Grayson. There was nothing nice about the way Val had looked at her last evening, nor was there anything safe about the way he’d held her in his arms.

Junior’s touch had never affected her like that. Never seared her from the inside out merely with the whisper of his skin on hers. And now, having experienced what it really felt like, she knew he never would. It was rough-around-the-edges Val who’d made her feel it, not straight-arrow Junior. Far from being shocked by this realization, she was saddened. Clearly, she’d been too careful, closed off to experiences and emotions because of what was expected of her. Because of what her family might think. She’d lived at home during college and the only parties she went to were approved society functions. The upshot was that she’d spent her adult life not truly understanding desire.

And now that she knew what she’d been missing all these years, she wasn’t sure she could ever go back to what she had.

Nor was she sure she wanted to.

Chapter 5

“Welcome to the Front Street Boutique,” called out a young woman with a chic blond bob and a poppy-colored sweater set as soon as Cameron stepped inside the store, the familiar chime of the small hammered dulcimer ringing as the door closed behind her.

Instinctively, Cameron took a deep breath, reveling in the smells of antique wood, fine fabric, and lavender. In addition to furniture and upscale home accessories, her elegant shop sold well-chosen women’s clothing and objets d’art, all of which she’d selected herself. She prided herself on her good eye and sense of style. Though she kept up with the more modern trends, she knew what her clients wanted and she catered to them accordingly. Business was good, so she must be doing something right. “Hi, Anna,” she greeted her manager, noting the three customers milling around. “How’s everything going?”

“Just fine, Cameron. Oh,” she said, eyeing one customer—a very stylishly dressed middle-aged woman. “Please excuse me.” Anna had anticipated her client’s needs well. Just as the woman turned to look for someone to help her, Anna stepped into her line of sight. “May I answer any questions?” Anna asked, her gentle smile lighting up her face.

“Yes,” the woman responded. “I love this bench.” She pointed to the five-foot-long wooden bench on which a myriad of beautifully colored cashmere shawls were neatly stacked. “Is it for sale?”

“Yes, ma’am. The bench is a nineteenth-century reproduction of a seventeenth-century English farm bench. It’s an antique, and is in very good shape. It would be perfect for a mudroom or an entranceway.”

The woman nodded. “I’d pictured it in our foyer. How much is it?”

“I believe we’re offering it for four thousand.”

“So much for a reproduction!” The woman sounded dismayed.

“An
antique
reproduction,” Anna gently reminded her. “But as a first-time customer, I can offer you a discount of ten percent.” Anna glanced over at Cameron, who nodded her approval. The woman seemed to consider the offer as she examined the piece more closely. Anna instinctively knew when to back off. “Please take your time, ma’am. I’ll be over here when
you’ve made a decision.”

“Well managed,” Cameron whispered after she’d joined Anna behind the register. “You’re doing beautifully here.”

“I’m surprised there’s so much activity today,” Anna quietly responded.

Star Harbor was well off the beaten path, but tourism was up. Many people were discovering the little town and deciding to stay. “I think we’ll be seeing a lot more people looking to decorate new homes,” she predicted.

Anna got busy with another customer, so Cameron headed to the back, where she had a small office and an even smaller workshop she used to repair antiques or examine new acquisitions. She was happy to share the office with Anna, but the workshop was solely Cameron’s domain.

A large nineteenth-century architect’s desk took up much of the space in the office. The desk had been a gift from her Uncle Nigel—her mother’s brother—when Cameron had first opened her Newbury Street boutique. It had been both a vote of confidence in Cameron and a poke in the eye to Clarissa. The desk had served her well in Boston, so when she opened the Front Street Boutique, she thought it was just the thing to accompany her to Star Harbor.

When she’d gotten settled, she pulled out her laptop, logged into the store’s wireless network, and pulled up the documents Anna had sent to her. Slowly, methodically, she made a list of everything they needed to accomplish over the next few days. By the time Anna retreated to the back for her half-hour lunch break, Cameron had compiled a comprehensive to-do list for the two of them.

“She took it,” Anna said, sounding triumphant.

“The bench? Great!” Cameron responded.

“And you were right. She just bought a house in Falmouth.” Anna placed her brown-bag lunch on the desk, pulled up a chair, and sat down. “Just so you know, I got the inventory software figured out,” she said. “It didn’t take too long, mostly because the Boston store concluded its own run a few days ago. I called Joan and she talked me through a few of the more squirrely points.” Anna unwrapped her sandwich and took a large bite.

“Joan is great, isn’t she?” Cameron said with a smile. Joan Elgar managed her Newbury Street boutique and was just as enthusiastic about her job as Anna.

Anna swallowed before speaking. “Yes. She was really sweet about helping. I could tell
that taking inventory was pretty intense.”

“It was,” Cameron smiled. “But we dealt with it well there, just like we’ll deal with it here. By the way, that sandwich smells delicious. I have to go grab some lunch before it gets too late.”

“Are you going to the LMK?” Anna asked, referring to the restaurant-bakery that Lexie Meyers owned and ran. Cameron had become good friends with Lexie after being introduced by their mutual friend, Julie Kensington, the town doctor.

“I can’t be in Star Harbor without heading over to the Kitchen,” Cameron said. “Besides, lunch there is always quick for me. And I haven’t even been back to my cottage yet. Not that I have food there anyway,” she sighed.

In the last three months, she’d been back and forth between Boston and Star Harbor at least once a week, sometimes not even staying in Star Harbor for more than twenty-four hours at a time. Her travel schedule was grating on her. Her clothes, toiletries, and personal effects were scattered, and she’d been eating out almost every meal. She looked forward to actually spending some time in the little town, especially during the early summer season, when things hadn’t yet gotten too hectic.

Anna waved at the open door. “You should go. I’m almost finished eating.”

Cameron held up her hands in supplication. “All right. I’ll be back soon.”

The LMK was located only a block and a half away from her office in the historic downtown area, with its cobblestoned streets and old-fashioned gas lamps. Although the sky was overcast, the little town had never looked more beautiful. Centuries-old painted brick and wood storefronts flanked Front Street, little window boxes full of flowers lining the way. American flags flew from the second story of almost every building, proclaiming the town’s history and pride. It was unbelievably good to be back in Star Harbor. A light wind blew from the harbor, bringing with it the aroma of sea and salt and rain. Cameron took in a deep, cleansing breath. Every time she returned to the town it felt like she was coming home.

She was greeted at the door by Kiki, one of the LMK’s regular servers, who had pretty brown eyes and honey-blond hair. “Hi, Cameron. Nice to see you again.”

Cameron gave her a warm smile. The tightly knit community was the best part about being back in Star Harbor. “Good to see you, too.”

Kiki ushered her to a place at the counter, where she usually liked to sit if she was dining
solo.

“I bet you know what you want already,” Kiki said, sliding her a glass of ice water.

“Yes, thanks. Cobb salad, please. Dressing on the side.”

Kiki smiled and jotted down the order on a little pad. “Anything to drink?”

“An iced tea would be great. Thank you.”

“No problem. I’ll put your order in right away and will be back with your iced tea soon. I’ll also send Lexie out when she has a few minutes.”

“Wonderful.” While she waited, Cameron looked around the place. She didn’t see anyone she recognized, so she stood and studied the pastry display for a bit before returning to her seat. The glass case was packed to the gills with pies, cookies, muffins, Lexie’s famous coconut layer cake, and her personal favorite, Lexie’s double-layer lemon cake.

After a few minutes, Lexie came out of the kitchen and stepped behind the counter so that they could talk face to face. The petite woman was wearing a gauzy, swingy skirt with a short-sleeved blouse, over which she had on an apron.

“Cameron! Great to see you!” Lexie said, her warm chestnut curls bouncing as she tilted her head in greeting. “It’s been a while. I hope you’re back for longer than a day this time around.”

Cameron grinned at Lexie’s infectious enthusiasm and nodded. “I’ll be here for the next two weeks doing inventory, placing some orders, and setting things up for the summer season.”

Lexie rolled her eyes. “Inventory. Sounds like a ton of fun.”

“It has to be done. This year we’re going digital.”

“Even
more
fun. Well, you’re right in time for the season. Things are just starting to get exciting around here.”

“Okay,” Cameron said. “What do I need to know?” They’d gotten into a good routine, and though at the moment, the information-giving was a bit one-sided, Cameron hoped that would soon change.

In short order, Lexie gave her the rundown on a new downtown parking proposal that would limit parking to one hour in the historic area and a sidewalk sale planned for mid-August.

“Last, but definitely not least,” Lexie said, lowering her voice, “The Wright Read is in trouble. Karen’s been struggling since Max was arrested. His legal bills have drained nearly all of her resources, and the bookstore hadn’t been doing that well for a while—hence Max’s foray
into drug running. I don’t know that there’s anything you can do to help, but I thought you’d want to know, since they’re right down the alleyway from you, and losing the bookstore would affect the downtown area. Plus, Karen would be out of a job.”

Cameron liked Karen Wright and had liked her husband, Max, too. Everyone—including she—had been completely shocked when Max was discovered to be involved in the drug trade that was plaguing Star Harbor. And even as she condemned the role Max had played, she understood why, at least in part. Money was a powerful motivator, which was why she’d opened both of her businesses with her own small nest egg—not with her trust fund.