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The Time of Her Life
Jeanie London


Susanna Adams is too young to be a widow. She's still in her thirties! There will be no sitting around trying to fill empty days for her. Instead, she's accepted a big promotion, moved states and is embracing her own dreams again. She might even be open to a little romance.The new plan doesn't unfold quite as smoothly as she expected. The job is a lot tougher thanks to Jay Canady, the man she'll eventually replace. Working with him and his high standards definitely tests her resolve. Not to mention all the sparks igniting between them. Office affairs have never factored on her radar, but Jay is so…hot, she might make an exception. After all, this time it's all about her.







No time like now!

Susanna Adams is too young to be a widow. She’s still in her thirties! There will be no sitting around trying to fill empty days for her. Instead, she’s accepted a big promotion, moved states and is embracing her own dreams again. She might even be open to a little romance.

The new plan doesn’t unfold quite as smoothly as she expected. The job is a lot tougher thanks to Jay Canady, the man she’ll eventually replace. Working with him and his high standards definitely tests her resolve. Not to mention all the sparks igniting between them. Office affairs have never factored on her radar, but Jay is so…hot, she might make an exception. After all, this time it’s all about her.


Susanna intended to thank Jay

She intended to right their relationship, to get back to something far more comfortable than this crazy intimacy.

A simple thanks would restore balance, distract her from the awareness making every nerve ending tingle, making her remember what she wasn’t wearing beneath the soaking wet sweatshirt.

Then she met Jay’s gaze, saw his face. The awareness she saw in his expression mirrored hers, and it was torture.

For one wild moment, time stopped.

Not a breath passed between them.

Not a sound.

Only the awareness of the pent-up restraint they’d both held in check and the certainty that restraint was about to end.


Dear Reader,

I’m delighted to announce exciting news: beginning in January 2013, Harlequin Superromance books will be longer! That means more romance with more of the characters you love and expect from Harlequin Superromance.

We’ll also be unveiling a brand-new look for our covers. These fresh, beautiful covers will showcase the six wonderful contemporary stories we publish each month.

So don’t miss out on your favorite series—Harlequin Superromance. Look for longer stories and exciting new covers starting December 18, 2012, wherever you buy books.

In the meantime, check out this month’s reads:




The Time of Her Life

Jeanie London







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jeanie London writes romance because she believes in happily-ever-afters. Not the “love conquers all” kind, but the “we love each other so we can conquer anything” kind. It’s precisely why she loves Harlequin Superromance—stories about real women tackling life to find love. The kind of love she understands, because she’s a real woman tackling life in sunny Florida with her own romance-hero husband, their two beautiful and talented daughters, a loving and slightly crazy extended family and a menagerie of sweet strays.


To all the caregivers.

May you be blessed.

With appreciation to all the staff at University Village.

Your loving service and generosity of spirit continually inspire me to set stories in the caring world of senior living.

You touch more lives than you know ;-)


Contents

Chapter One (#ud1ab7fd0-75bb-5e70-964d-9ee7cc626e93)

Chapter Two (#ue4b1c9e2-09d9-5c6b-97d6-bf1fcc234fa7)

Chapter Three (#u9b107fc6-2882-5ef9-bf5d-33036e234fab)

Chapter Four (#uffd3e4cf-d6a8-5738-a26a-d5b9c4664ec1)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE

THE OLD PROVERB “change is the only constant” seemed to echo inside the empty house as Susanna Adams stood in the doorway of her home for the last time. And she kept standing there, somehow not ready to leave even though she’d done nothing for weeks but prepare. Apparently all the activity of packing and storing twenty years of memories in a portable storage container had been nothing but a diversion.

Once she left, she’d need to lock the door then drop off the key with the real estate agent. She wouldn’t be able to get inside her home ever again. What if this move was a huge mistake? Suddenly, taking that one last step symbolized everything she was leaving behind.

Glancing into the quiet darkness, Susanna took a steadying breath and tried to capture the moment in memory. She knew every square inch of this house by heart. The wall separating this foyer from the living area, a wall she’d often bumped into with her arms full of groceries. How many bruises had she sported through the years because some brainy architect thought the wall should extend beyond a clear passage to the living room?

Susanna had no clue. She only knew that without the kids’ photos marking their stepping stones through school years or Skip’s stuffed fish showcased front and center, the wall looked foreign. Only a wall surrounded by unfamiliar shadows.

Without her family, this house was just a house, the way it had been when a real estate agent had unlocked the door for the first time twenty years ago. Before she and Skip had filled every room with expectations and dreams.

They had been such big dreamers.

The thought grabbed Susanna around the throat, made her swallow hard. They’d bought this house while still in college, ignoring every bit of advice from their parents and friends.

“You’re too young to get married.”

“Finish college and start careers before settling down.”

“Live a little before saddling yourselves with a mortgage.”

She and Skip had filled this house with dreams of a life together where anything could happen. And did.

They’d started careers while having their family, had paced floors in the wee hours through colic while still managing to make it to work on time the next morning.

They’d been T-ball coach and Brownie leader. They’d taken turns as chaperone for school field trips. They’d been homeroom mom who baked designer cupcakes en masse and homeroom dad who tended every classroom pet from mammal to reptile.

“What’s the rush? You’ve got a lifetime to settle down.”

No, they hadn’t. They’d had only a limited number of years together, certainly not the lifetime everyone had promised. Thank God they’d ignored the advice and hadn’t wasted a second. As Skip was losing his battle with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, he’d said his only regret was not getting more time with her and the beautiful family they’d made.

That was still her only regret.

So, Susanna had forged on while he missed the teenage years, the championship games, the homecomings, the proms, the graduations. Survival helped her through grief, helped her focus on what was important—keeping life familiar for the kids. She’d been playing the roles of both mom and dad, keeping life moving in the direction she and Skip had intended for their family.

Now both kids were away at college. Bedtime stories and good-night kisses were a thing from the distant past as Brooke was three states away in Virginia and Brandon five states away in South Carolina. If she could ever take this last step and get on the road, she’d only be one state away from each.

Then selling the house wasn’t a mistake, was it?

What else could Susanna do? She had an opportunity for job advancement that would get her family back on solid financial ground for the first time since Skip had died. True, there was risk, but she didn’t like the alternative any better—continuing to knock around this empty house, losing her mind from loneliness.

The kids didn’t know. She was the parent, the only one they had left. She’d reared them to be independent adults. They needed to go off and experience life, not tie themselves to home, worried about leaving their mother alone.

But was she being selfish by selling the only home they’d ever known? Once she locked this door, none of them could come back to the one place they would always have memories of Skip.

She hadn’t realized how much those memories, and the tangible evidence of his presence in their lives, had kept him alive. But as she stared into the foyer, she realized how close he’d been in spirit, as if he’d only gone on a business trip and would be awaiting them at the airport to bring him home.

Now all visible reminders were packed away, their family scattered. Brooke and Brandon lived separate lives on separate campuses in separate states. Susanna was the only one left at home with the memories. Now she’d be forced to move on, too.

Was she ready?

Being a single parent was one thing. She’d had purpose to keep the family together, to help her kids deal with their father’s death. Being a single woman with a life of her own was another thing entirely.

That was something she’d never really done. After leaving home, she’d tackled college dorm life with her best friend beside her. Then, as a young bride, she’d moved from the dorms to this house with Skip....

Susanna honestly didn’t know what came next, what she could handle. She only knew that loneliness had grown all too familiar of late and something had to change.

Another deep breath.

She had to take this next step in life as an individual or else she’d remain here, feeling left behind, pining for everything she’d once had.

Life was change. Susanna knew that, and the kids could travel on school breaks far more easily to her new home in Charlotte, North Carolina, than they could return to New York where she was now. That was the reality of the situation. She’d figure out how to move on, even if she couldn’t see beyond placing one foot in front of the other.

Memories would travel with them wherever they went.

One last glance into that shadowy interior... Susanna pulled the door shut quietly, slipped the key into the lock and turned the bolt for the last time.

* * *

JAY CANADY MOVED PAST doors in the administrative corridor, pausing only to glance into the financial office.

“Got a call from the gatehouse,” he said. “The new administrator is on her way.”

He didn’t bother waiting for a reply but kept going until just shy of the front lobby, a spot where he could view the comings and goings around the reception desk, while remaining mostly hidden from view.

Mostly was the operative word. Jay wasn’t fooling anyone around here. And certainly not the daytime receptionist. Amber routinely accused him of lurking behind potted palms to catch her tweeting on her iPhone during her shift.

He wasn’t doing anything of the sort, but as owner and property administrator of The Arbors, A-list memory-care facility and family business, he was fond of hiding. Moments when he wasn’t in popular demand were few and far between.

But hiding never worked for long. Especially with Amber. She didn’t need X-ray vision to find him on any one of the sixty acres that made up the property. She wielded that iPhone like a lightsaber, texting him whenever he wasn’t within earshot and getting miffed if he didn’t reply immediately.

Jay should institute a new policy: no cell phones on shift. Radios only. But what was the point? In the very near future, none of his policies would mean squat.

The thought made him smile. As soon as the new property administrator walked through the door, everyone around here could start reprogramming their internal GPSs to take problems to someone else for solutions.

“Got your fingers crossed?” a voice crackly with age asked.

“You betcha.” Jay raised a hand to display the good-luck gesture. He didn’t bother turning around to see the man who’d shuffled up behind. Careful steps had announced Walter’s approach long before he’d reached his destination.

Like Jay himself, Walter Higgins was a fixture around The Arbors. The longtime chief financial officer was another employee who could track down Jay no matter where he was. But Walter had the distinction of being an employee who also had a role in Jay’s personal life.

Not that the entire staff couldn’t him call 24/7. They could and did. Often. But Walter’s calls weren’t always work related. Not only had he been managing The Arbors’ finances since before Jay had been born, but Walter had become an honorary grandfather since Jay’s real granddad had passed away.

That connection had been cemented when Jay’s late grandmother, after grieving the loss of her forty-year marriage, had gotten involved with Walter. Jay had never asked—never would, either—but he suspected Walter had loved Gran all along and stayed single until he got his chance to woo her into an honest relationship.

Jay would certainly miss Walter. But selling The Arbors didn’t mean giving up the people in his life. He had some work to do proving that to Walter, though.

The electronic hiss of sliding doors dragged Jay’s attention to the main lobby. His breath tightened in his chest as a dark-haired woman in a business suit strolled through with brisk steps.

“I thought you said they were sending a middle-aged widow with grown kids,” Walter grumbled.

“Widow with college kids.” The distinction obviously made a difference. “Northstar provided a bio. If memory serves—and it still does, which is always a good thing—the new administrator is around forty. Not middle-aged.”

Not for Jay, who was pulling up the rear at thirty-two, or for Walter, who was pushing eighty-six. “I’m not even sure that’s her. There wasn’t a photo.”

“She could be my granddaughter, Jay. My great-granddaughter.”

“How’s that? You never had any kids.”

Walter grunted, narrowing his gaze at the reception desk. The woman currently greeting Amber wasn’t Jay’s idea of what a widow with college kids would look like, either. The suit emphasized her curves. She wasn’t tall, but not short, either. Just really curvy.

Withdrawing a business card from her jacket, she handed it to Amber, who leaped from the chair on immediate hyperalert. Reaching across the desk, she extended a hand in welcome.

Walter scowled harder.

Judging by Amber’s actions, this woman was the new administrator, whether she was what Jay expected or not. The woman flashed an easy smile that animated a heart-shaped face framed by a tumble of dark hair.

She was a very beautiful woman, which really shouldn’t be the first thing Jay noticed. Not if he planned to retire from the memory-care business with some peace of mind.

Competent. Experienced. Professional. Compassionate. Those were the things he should be looking for.

He’d noticed one of four.

Dressing professionally was a start, he supposed. And what did competence, experience or compassion look like, anyway? Jay shook off the thought. Worry was getting the best of him, but he wouldn’t admit that to Walter, who sought any reason to launch into The-Arbors-is-your-responsibility lecture again.

Jay had heard the arguments and the lectures. More than once, thank you.

“Okay. She’s professional,” he said. “Attractive. Stylish. A bit younger than I expected—”

“A bit?”

“Haven’t had access to her personnel file,” Jay reminded. “Technically she works for Northstar Management.”

“Which is why I can’t figure out why I’m adding her to our payroll. She doesn’t come cheap, Jay. You’ll be eating a fair sum if this deal falls through.”

The deal wouldn’t fall through. “We’ve got to assume some risk. It’s only fair. Northstar would acquire this property tomorrow if it wasn’t for me insisting on a transition period.”

As much as Jay wanted out of here—and he did in a big way—he couldn’t leave without witnessing Northstar’s procedural changes and being reassured they would uphold The Arbors’ standard of care. This new administrator had six months to actualize Northstar’s promise to provide growth potential while maintaining the excellence of service established by Jay, and generations of his family before him.

That was the best he could do. He was leaving, although Walter still hadn’t given up hope he might yet dissuade Jay. But the decision was made. He’d worked hard to put together a plan to insure the future for The Arbors, the staff and residents.

Walter could grouse all he wanted—the only thing left to do was get through the transition. Jay almost felt bad for the new administrator. Walter wouldn’t be a pushover. He’d compare her to Gran, whose shoes were awfully big to fill, as he was so fond of saying. So big that not even Jay had filled them.

But Walter only wanted what was best for The Arbors. That much Jay knew. The rest of the staff, too. They were all competent and experienced professionals. Well versed in what it meant to be an employee at The Arbors.

The Compassion to Care.

That catchphrase had been around since the very beginning, when Gran had started the place to care for her mother during an era when not much had been known about Alzheimer’s disease.

Gran had wanted to provide some quality of life, so she’d transformed a wing of the house on Granddad’s farm into an ALF, an assisted-living facility. This was long before Jay’s time, but he knew she’d added one bed at a time so her mother would have pleasant companions to fill her days.

Gran had learned all she could about Alzheimer’s care and kept up with the research. Her tiny ALF had grown from one bed in the main house to one hundred and twenty beds in a new three-story facility with a nursing center on the ground floor. The Arbors had become an A-list memory-care community with a long waiting list for admission.

Would this around-forty widow with college kids have the compassion and ability to carry on Gran’s legacy? Northstar Management had promised to send the perfect person to replace him so he could get on with living his life. Finally.

He’d given so much to this place that, if he didn’t get out soon, there would be nothing left of him. This place was sucking him dry.

“And you really won’t close the deal if you’re unhappy with—what’s her name again?” Walter asked.

“Ms. Adams. Ms. Susanna Adams.”

“If you’re unhappy with Ms. Susanna Adams?” Everything about Walter, from the creased white eyebrows to the hard stare in his eyes, which still read between the lines, broadcast his doubt.

“Really, Walter? You’re questioning my integrity?”

He shook his head. “Just your ability to see clearly.”

The same could be said about Walter and his stubborn refusal to even consider a future with Northstar. He’d seized any chance to talk some sense into Jay, had been rallying the troops to his side at every opportunity.

Fortunately, the troops knew who signed the paychecks and didn’t have Walter’s personal family ties to risk the potential consequences of a mutiny. Jay had shocked them all with his decision to sell. Now he was a wild card, and no one was sure how hard they could push him. Jay knew that as well as he knew everyone in The Arbors. If he hadn’t hired an employee personally, his mom, dad, gran or granddad had.

“I’ve covered all the bases, Walter. You know how many hours I spent with the attorneys creating the contracts. I know you didn’t forget because they billed you. And Alzheimer’s isn’t contagious. Not even with as many years as you’ve been here.”

Walter folded his arms over his chest, rocked back on his saddle shoes with his mouth compressed into a tight line. He’d promised Gran to look after the place until his dying breath, and he meant to do exactly that. Did all this stubborn resistance stem from worry that the new owners might force him to retire because of his age?

Jay hadn’t considered that before. “The very last thing I want is for the residents to sacrifice standard of care or my employees their jobs.”

“Former employees.”

“Not yet they’re not. And not until I’m sure everything is moving in the right direction.” The twenty-first century, to be exact. “I’ll never expand The Arbors as a private company the way Northstar can with Fortune 500 financial backing. They’re top-notch in senior care. The absolute best in the nation. We need to stay on the cutting edge with research so we can continue to provide the care Gran wanted.”

“You’re on the cutting edge. Your grandmother single-handedly got the Alzheimer’s Association to fund the research at University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. She’d have talked them into conducting it right here in Charlotte if UNC had been outfitted to handle the clinical trials.”

“Seven years ago.” Before everything had changed. Before his mom had wound up a resident in the facility she’d once help run. Before Gran had died. Before his dad had died. Before Mom had died. Before everything had become Jay’s responsibility.

“Don’t see why you can’t do the same, Jay.”

Jay was not going to defend himself, not standing in the hallway whispering. Walter was dead wrong on this, whether or not he admitted it. Gran had had Granddad to help, and income from the farm to foot the bills while she devoted herself to her Alzheimer’s crusade. She’d had Mom to help before she’d had to care for Mom, and Dad to help after Mom couldn’t. After Dad had died, Gran had Jay.

Jay didn’t have anyone. Well, there was Drew, of course. Major Drew Canady, Jay’s older brother who’d been smart enough to run off and join the Marines. He’d seen the handwriting on the wall and had made sure he wouldn’t be around to get stuck running the family business.

Now Drew had a life when Jay couldn’t even remember the last time he’d done anything but spend every waking moment dealing with the never-ending demands of this place. Dementia care frightened off most women fast, and he didn’t have time for his friends anymore.

So when in hell was Jay supposed to make time to lobby the state legislature or Alzheimer’s Association or pharmaceutical corporations or private medical research facilities and run The Arbors with its endless assessments, intakes, evaluations and treatment plans?

There were two hundred and fifty employees. There were one hundred and twenty residents, and most came with families who needed to be reassured, educated, informed and answered to about quality of care. There were volunteers and private companions and churches and all the outside resources that ministered to the residents to provide quality of life.

And quality of death. How many nights had Jay hoofed it here in the dark to meet funeral directors and deal with grieving families after a resident died?

Walter knew better than anyone what running this place entailed, and he’d heard all these arguments before. He might not want to retire until he was wheeled out of his office on a gurney, but he wouldn’t live forever.

Neither would Jay, and he had no intention of spending the rest of his life without actually living. And life wouldn’t start until he left The Arbors.

* * *

SUSANNA SMILED AT THE young woman behind the reception desk, who didn’t appear much older than Brooke.

“Good morning,” the girl said, the lilt to her voice all Southern charm and novelty to a born-and-bred Yankee.

“Good morning.” Susanna handed a business card to the young woman whose engraved badge identified her as Amber.

Susanna had already reviewed personnel files, so this young woman must be...

Amber Snelling, first-shift receptionist.

Currently working on her BSc in Operations Management.

Daughter of the Activity Director.

Amber glanced at the business card, eyes widening. “Ms. Adams!” She was on her feet instantly, extending a hand. “Welcome to The Arbors. We knew you were coming in today, but Mr. C. didn’t tell us when.”

Mr. C. would be Jay Canady, administrator and owner. The man hadn’t told his staff when she would arrive, which meant he couldn’t be too worried about them being on their best behavior. That said something about Mr. C.’s confidence in his employees.

“I came from Raleigh and wasn’t exactly sure how long the drive would take.”

“Raleigh. Wow.” Amber said. “I hope Mr. C. brought you through Asheboro so you didn’t deal with the traffic on 85.”

Mr. C. hadn’t brought her through Asheboro because Susanna had let her GPS lead the way. “I’m happy to report the traffic wasn’t bad at all.”

Of course, traffic was relative, and Susanna only had New York to compare.

“What time did you leave?” Amber asked.

“Around five.”

She glanced at her computer display. “Hmm. Not too bad. Mr. C. told everyone you’re from New York—as if I couldn’t tell from your accent. Have you been to Charlotte before?”

Susanna shook her head.

“Well, make sure you ask about shortcuts while you’re learning your way around. Of course, if you’re anything like Mr. C., you probably won’t get off the property all that much. But be aware that some shortcuts are better than others. Someone around here is bound to know which is which.”

“Thanks, Amber. I’ll remember that.”

Amber glanced in the direction of the administrative offices then surprised Susanna by continuing the conversation. “When you do manage to get out of here, visit Concord Mills. It’s a huge shopping mall by the Charlotte Speedway, so when you go make sure you plan to spend the whole day.”

“Then I’ll have to bring my daughter when she comes to visit. Shopping is one of her favorite things to do.” When Mom was swiping the plastic, anyway.

“Your daughter doesn’t live with you?”

“Only in between semesters. She’s in her third year at William and Mary.”

“I’m in my third year, too. At UNC. But I’m probably older than your daughter. I work here full-time, so I never take more than three classes. My degree is taking forever.”

Susanna wasn’t sure how to reply and went the philosophical route. “I’m sure when all is said and done you’ll look back and think school took exactly as long as it should have.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Did The Arbors encourage staff to be so friendly, and chatty, or was Susanna sampling real Southern hospitality? She didn’t want to cut off the conversation rudely, but she needed to let the owner know she was here, so she didn’t appear late.

When she opened her mouth to prompt Amber, a man suddenly appeared with an older gentleman in step behind him.

“Mr. C., Mr. Higgins. Guess who’s here?” Amber announced.

“I see.” The younger of the two gentlemen inclined his head to acknowledge the receptionist. Then his gaze fixed on Susanna as he strode toward her, all broad shoulders and quick energy. His smile was wide and fast. “Jay Canady, Ms. Adams. Welcome to The Arbors. Walter Higgins, our CFO.”

For a moment, Susanna stared. That voice. Deep-throated, like honey melted in whiskey, not a drawl, but soft, stretching vowels that made every syllable distinctive. It took another moment to realize he was waiting for a reply. She’d stopped breathing. Literally.

What on earth was wrong with her?

“A pleasure to meet you, gentlemen,” she managed. Then she was shaking hands and making more chitchat while distracting herself with memory associations so she wouldn’t forget names.

Walter Higgins, dapper elderly chap with a bow tie. CFO, my old job.

Jay Canady, aka Mr. C. The man who wants to sell off this gorgeous facility.

Not that she would need a memory prompt to remember him.

Susanna had reviewed the man’s biographical data. Although she knew he was thirty-two years old and the third generation to run this facility, Jay Canady wasn’t what she’d expected.

He was all chiseled lines and ruthless masculinity. Neatly trimmed blond hair contrasted sun-scorched skin that suggested he spent time outdoors, a fact reinforced by his toned physique. And his eyes were the greenest green she’d ever seen.

Susanna wasn’t sure what she expected a man who ran a memory-care facility to look like, but she hadn’t expected hints of David Beckham and Eomer from The Lord of the Rings.

“Northstar promised to send us the perfect property director, and here you are,” Jay said.

“Perfect for The Arbors, anyway,” she said quickly. “I can’t imagine any place lovelier. The drive from the gate was breathtaking.”

“You should see the arbors in spring bloom,” Walter said.

“She will,” Jay said. “But not until spring. Now let’s get you settled before the parade begins. Everyone wants to meet you. I’ll take you to your new office so you can settle in before I give you the dime tour.”

The dime tour? How charming. With a polite hand on her elbow, Jay whisked her from the lobby and down a corridor of administrative offices.

“Welcome to The Arbors, Ms. Adams,” Walter said about halfway down the hall. “Say the word when you’re ready to tour the financial offices. We run a tight ship. You’ll be pleased.”

“I’m sure I will, Walter. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“The same.” If Walter had been wearing a hat, he would have tipped it. He was such a dashing gentleman.

“I understand Walter’s been an employee since the beginning,” she said after he vanished into an office, leaving her alone with Jay.

“Before, actually. My grandmother hired him before she ever broke ground on this place.”

“That continuity of staff says a lot about your facility. It’s not common nowadays.”

“Has plusses. Minuses, too. Our out-of-house tax attorney was around since the start, too, but he didn’t trust computers, so he wrote everything by hand.”

“That must have presented some challenges,” she said diplomatically.

Jay pulled a face. “He finally retired. We hired a new firm that conducts twenty-first-century business. But I suspect Northstar will reassign those out-of-house duties.”

She liked that he put business practices immediately on the table. “Once we start going through everything, I’ll be able to tell you for certain. One of our partners is Rockport Investment Banking. I think you’ll approve their caliber of service.”

Jay didn’t reply before they reached the office at the end of the hall labeled with a simple gold plate: Administrator.

Pushing the door wide, he allowed her to precede him.

The office must have cornered the building because two walls were nothing but floor-to-ceiling windows. The view beyond only proved The Arbors was heaven on earth. Beyond the manicured slope of lawn stretched a lake, calmly reflecting the arbors that circled the far end and the towering forest that hid most of the main house from sight.

She recognized pines and fir but there were other trees in glorious autumn bloom, bright splashes of color that hinted at how spectacular this view would be a little further into the season when the leaves really started to change.

“What are those red trees?” she asked. “I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“Around here we call them flaming trees.”

“They’re gorgeous.” She wanted to take cell phone photos to send to her family and friends. “Tell me I’ll be able to work in here and not stare out these windows all day.”

Jay smiled and seemed to like her response. Good. She needed to get off to a good start with this man.

“I’m sure the view will inspire you to do remarkable work,” he said. “It’s tradition. One that needs to continue.”

There was a warning in that sweet whiskey voice. Cocking a hip against the desk, she met his gaze. “Concerns?”

“Just want to make sure we’re on the same page. I’ve been dealing with the suits and attorneys. They’re all quick to promise they can take The Arbors to the next level. I want that, but not at the expense of my residents or staff. The quality of care is what makes us unique. You’ll be in charge of making sure everyone’s taken care of. Thought I should put that up front so you know what I expect.”

Hmm. Demanding, bossy even, but Susanna appreciated the honesty. Her own boss, Gerald Mayne, had warned her she’d have a tough job reassuring Jay that Northstar would continue the quality of service his family had established as a private facility. Jay took seriously his responsibility to those who relied upon him, which made her wonder why he was selling The Arbors at all. Gerald hadn’t shared that information.

“That’s what I want, too, Jay.” Susanna meant it. “We’ve got six months together, and I intend to make this transition smooth and positive. That starts with understanding what you do around here. Then we can figure out how to implement policies and procedures to get The Arbors on board as a Northstar property. How does that sound?”

“Like we’re on the same page.”

Susanna certainly hoped so, because absolutely everything important in her life rode on these next six months.

On her success.


CHAPTER TWO

JAY HEADED TOWARD the maintenance and engineering building to retrieve another radio—he’d given his to Susanna—pondering their first meeting. Unfortunately, leaving the administrative offices forced him into the front lobby, where Amber lay in wait.

“Thank you so much, Mr. C.” Her tone bore up her sour expression. “I guess you needed an engraved invitation to meet the new administrator. She must think I’m a total idiot.”

“What are you talking about? You made her feel right at home. That’s what I pay you to do.”

“I was covering for you, and you left me hanging.”

“Why didn’t you page me, then?”

“You were standing twenty feet away in the bushes. Did you really want the radio to go off where she could—”

“Since when do you use the radio?”

“Oh, right. Like I’m supposed to send a text message in front of my new boss.”

Jay chuckled. Amber had practically been reared at The Arbors because her mother had worked here for years. She was comfortable in a way even the longest hires weren’t. She’d volunteered for school service hours, had been a part-time transportation aide during high school. Understandably, she was worried about all the changes.

He tried to soothe her ruffled feathers. “You bought me a few minutes to get the lay of the land. I thank you for that.”

She gave an exasperated huff and spun around in her chair, dismissing him. He smiled and continued on his way, hoping the new administrator had come prepared to deal with this crew.

Circling the building, he headed toward the north end of the property and the maintenance buildings tucked away there, concealed by the trees and the slope.

Jay found Chester in the garage. A middle-aged African-American man with more and more gray in his hair each passing year, the maintenance and engineering supervisor was the calm in the middle of any storm. Jay couldn’t remember the man so much as raise his voice in his twelve years on the payroll.

“Need another radio, Chester.”

“You got it, Mr. C.” He disappeared through a doorway, where all electronics were locked in the climate-controlled office.

When he returned, Jay asked, “Everything okay? You get an ETA on the mower yet?”

Chester nodded. “The repair shop promised I can pick it up by Friday. Don’t fret. Worst case is it rains, and I get the crew out with push mowers.”

“The crew won’t like that.”

A slow smile spread over Chester’s face. “You know it.”

And that was that. Jay appreciated a supervisor who was a man of few words.

Arriving at the main building, he bypassed the front entrance and a second helping of Amber’s verbal abuse and made for the employee exit at the north wing. As he rounded the corner, Jay realized he’d made a tactical error.

The new administrator’s office.

He paraded in the middle of that view Susanna had been so excited about.

And there she was, showcased in the window. She’d removed her jacket, and the slip of a blouse she wore outlined her delicate curves with some silky fabric that looked soft to the touch.

Ironically, she stood in the same place he’d always stood, in a similar pose even. Hands wrapped around a coffee mug, trying to absorb the peace of the grounds when life inside The Arbors spun at tornado velocity.

He wondered what she was looking for and wondered why he wondered.

But he’d stepped right into it, so to speak, and there was nothing to do but keep moving. Susanna startled when she saw him—an unexpected intruder mere feet beyond the glass. Then her face lit with a surprised smile.

He waved.

She waved back.

God, he was such an idiot. This shortcut needed to be deleted from his repertoire. The walk past the window took forever, but he finally reached the north exit. Entering the code on the keypad with impatient thrusts, he tried to shake off annoyance at his stupidity.

What if Susanna felt rushed because he’d practically shown up in her office? And what had she been sipping in that mug? Had she ventured down to Dietary for some coffee?

Without knocking, Jay shoved open the door to Walter’s office and plunked down in the chair in front of the desk.

“What’s up?” Walter glanced away from the computer screen.

“She drove in from Raleigh this morning. I should have at least offered her coffee.”

“Her, as in Ms. Adams?”

“Know anyone else who drove in from Raleigh today?”

Walter raked a tight gaze over Jay. “I can have Chester set up a card table for you. That can be your new work space.”

“I won’t need it, thank you. I’m not planning on working anymore. Just transitioning.”

Walter arched a white eyebrow. “You think so?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Your mouth to God’s ear, boy. And you might do well to ask for a little assistance from your mother, father and grandmother while you’re at it. God rest their souls.”

Jay should have known Walter would drag in divine intervention. And to his surprise the divine did intervene—when the radio crackled at his waist, saving him from continuing this stupid conversation.

“I’m ready for a tour whenever you are, Jay,” Susanna said through the speaker.

“On my way.” He headed out of Walter’s office without a backward glance.

Susanna had barely opened his former office door before the apology poured out of his mouth.

“That shortcut won’t be a problem. Employees only use that exit to the parking lot on the other side of the building.”

He hoped she didn’t think he was spying on her.

She chuckled good-naturedly. “No worries. Amber mentioned shortcuts this morning.”

He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but he did notice she’d covered up that silky blouse with her jacket again.

“Probably a good thing you showed up when you did. It’s too easy to get distracted by that view. You did say you managed to get work done in here, right?”

“You will. When no one’s distracting you.” Like he had.

Glancing at the mug sitting on the shelf beside the watercooler, he said, “I’m glad someone thought to take care of you. I could have offered you a cup of coffee after your drive.”

She waved him off with a graceful motion. “Thanks, Jay, but I take care of me.”

There was something in that statement. Jay had no clue what, but he wondered. “You travel with coffee?”

Her soft laugh swallowed up the air between them. Or maybe it was the fluid display she made as she leaned over to reach inside her laptop case to produce a small foil package. “VIA. Instant Starbucks coffee for people on the go. Your water dispenser provides hot water. You can drink this cold, though, too.”

“It’s your water dispenser now. I’d like to say you can get a decent cup of coffee around here, but I’d be lying. I budget for the good stuff, but when it’s brewed in big quantities... Keep a supply of those on hand.”

She dropped the package back into her case. “Appreciate the heads-up.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

Her smile flashed wide and bright, and he noticed again how attractive she was. Not what he needed to be noticing.

“Let’s get this show on the road.” He grabbed the door for the lady and motioned her through, forcing himself not to notice how attractive she was from behind, too.

He kept his gaze leveled at the back of her head—where it belonged—not noticing the way her shiny dark hair caught the light, bouncing around her shoulders with her every step.

Excitement must be getting the better of him, because the plans he’d been making for eight months were coming together in the very feminine form of this new administrator.

* * *

SUSANNA’S TOUR BEGAN with the entry code to the secure doors off the front lobby—lockdown, as the wings of patient rooms were known—and hadn’t slowed the whirlwind pace in the hours since. She tried to tamp down her nerves, which hummed at full volume, as she absorbed everything at once.

Gerald had led her to expect a top-notch facility, and The Arbors appeared to be that. At a glance, the staff seemed professional and friendly, residents well-groomed and active.

Jay was a charming host as he directed her through the facility and instructed her on a floor plan that served both utilitarian and aesthetic purposes. Four wings branched off from the lobby and two centrally located elevators.

The elevators were large enough to accommodate wheelchairs, walkers and gurneys, providing the only access to the upper floors besides locked emergency stairs at the end of each wing.

“We’ll assign you codes to get through the outer exits, too,” he said. “They can be handy when traffic backs up.”

“Which happens quite a bit, I imagine.”

He appeared to consider that, tipping his head to one side so that strands of blond hair slipped over his brow. “Actually, not too much unless we call 9-1-1. Then we reserve the south elevator until emergency arrives. The residents don’t do a lot of traveling between floors unless they’re going to the third floor for therapy, so that helps.”

Pausing with his hand poised over the keypad, he glanced at her and added, “I provided Gerald with our policy and procedure manual. Have you had a chance to look at it yet?”

“Cover to cover.”

His smile came fast, a smile that nearly blinded her with approval. “Good.”

This man wanted the arrangement to work as much as she did, Susanna realized. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she did. And the awareness both surprised and reassured her. With Jay’s assistance, this transition should go smoothly.

She hoped. The first step began with Susanna convincing Jay to go through with acquisition.

But he wanted to be convinced...and that realization made her feel much better. “Reviewing schedules and staffing budgets is different from seeing the result of a well-staffed facility in action,” she said as they exited the elevator.

“It takes adequate staff to provide adequate care. It’s criminal what some facilities get away with.”

He came to a sharp stop outside the elevator and thrust the hair off his forehead with an absent gesture. “You do not want to get me started on my opinion of federal regulations.”

“Noted.” Obviously a hot spot.

“Here at The Arbors, we have a shift R.N. who manages the LPNs, the licensed practical nurses, on every floor and deals with the physician who makes rounds each day. Yes, I said physician, not nurse practitioner or physician’s assistant.”

He was clearly proud, and as Susanna’s expertise was in the facility finances, she knew the budget and what that service could cost. One of the areas she would be looking at to bring the budget variances in line with Northstar’s specifications.

She kept that to herself since they were off to such a promising start. There would be plenty of time to address the differences between corporate and private management.

Entering the first-floor nursing center, she paid careful attention to the designations of the staff who ran in and out of rooms. LPNs were responsible for dispensing medication. Certified nursing assistants, known as CNAs, helped with patient care while the patient care technicians, or PCTs, handled hygiene and grooming.

Dieticians worked in top-notch kitchen facilities and their assistants transported meals to restorative dining areas for residents who were unable to feed themselves. Housekeepers. Maintenance and engineering staff. Each nurses’ station serviced two wings, not only as home base for the caregivers but a gathering area for many residents.

“No, no, Mrs. Highsmith, you can’t go to your room right now,” an LPN said as she stopped a tiny woman in a wheelchair and deftly brought her around to face the nurses’ station. “Stay here and keep me company while I fill out these charts, all right?”

Susanna didn’t catch Mrs. Highsmith’s response before Jay whisked her along yet another hallway. The only downside to the facility setup was that with every wing laid out in the same way and decorated to convey a homey ambiance, she couldn’t quite pinpoint where she was.

“I will eventually gain my sense of direction around here, won’t I?” she asked Jay.

He laughed with his rich warm voice that managed to be the only sound she heard over the noise of a busy floor. “Just watch the room numbers until you get the hang of the place.”

“Not that he’s the best judge.” The somber male voice came from behind them.

She and Jay stopped and turned to find Walter exiting a conference room.

“The boy’s been working this property since he was gurgling and cooing to entertain the residents.”

“Thank you, Walter,” Jay said dryly.

Susanna bit back a laugh, not sure what amused her more, the thought of Jay as a boy or a green-eyed baby.

“The residents loved you then and they love you now.” Walter held up a hand and whispered conspiratorially, “Everyone loves him around here. You’ve got big boots to fill.”

Another warning, but before Susanna could respond, Jay said, “Everyone can’t wait to see the last of me.”

“You wish.”

Jay scowled so hard Susanna refrained from comment. Judging from what she’d seen so far, she’d have to side with Walter. She made another mental note but didn’t get a chance to worry about potential staff resistance as Jay hurried her away. She met everyone on shift until she practically vibrated from information overload.

When her phone rang, Susanna seized the opportunity. “My daughter,” she told Jay. “I need to take this.”

“Radio me when you’re ready for the north wing,” Jay said.

Susanna made her escape with a smile and the phone cradled against her ear. “Hang on, Brooke.” She used her passcode for the first time to exit the secured area.

“Hey, pretty,” she said, making her way toward her office. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“I’m dying here, Mom.” Brooke sounded peeved. “You never texted me to let you know you’d made it to Charlotte.”

And Brooke wasn’t the only one, Susanna realized. Everyone would want to know she’d arrived safely. One text and Brooke could have passed along the news, so no one would have had to worry. Said a lot about Susanna’s anxiety level.

“I’m so, so sorry. The drive was fine, but I hit the ground running as soon as I got here and haven’t stopped since. Touring the place and meeting everyone.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll use that excuse the next time you blast me for forgetting to let you know I made it back to school.”

“I was so worked up about getting here I wasn’t thinking. No excuses. I should have texted.”

“You admit you were wrong.” But she didn’t give Susanna a chance to respond before asking, “Is everything going okay? Do you like North Carolina?”

Brooke was eager to know if she would like their new home base. Susanna launched into an excited account of The Arbors, from the view in her office to the whirlwind tour of the facility. “I haven’t seen where I’ll be living yet, but if it looks anything like everything else around here, the cottage will be amazing. It’s another world.”

Brooke laughed. “Must be. You sound like you’re gonna hyperventilate.”

“I can’t believe I’m in North Carolina.”

“This will be great, Mom. Just relax and give it a chance.”

That made Susanna smile. Brooke would be mortified to realize she was already mimicking her mother. But Susanna did appreciate the reassurance. Brooke understood the enormity of this move. “You’re right, pretty. You’re absolutely right.”

“Um, yeah.”

Susanna laughed, welcomed the sound of her beautiful daughter’s voice. With adrenaline pumping so hard and steadily through the morning, simply talking to Brooke felt like the first spec of normalcy. For this moment, Susanna was mom again, grounded, not a woman on her own in a strange new world.

“I couldn’t wait any longer to know if you were still alive, so I had to call. But I’ve got to get into class. I sit in the front row, and guaranteed someone’s lurking my seat now. I’d hate to break up the Rat Pack so early in the semester.”

Susanna gripped the phone tightly, not ready to end the call, a lifeline to everything she loved. But as a mom with an empty nest, she got to catch up with her kids, not cling.

Brooke’s Rat Pack was important. They were a group of students who’d started interdisciplinary studies together, women and men ranging in ages from Brooke at twenty to Annie, who was well into her seventies. Susanna liked that her daughter connected with people from varying levels of life experience rather than limiting herself to the party set.

“Go get your seat, pretty. All’s well in Charlotte. I’ll send a text to let everyone know, and we can talk more later.”

“Sounds good. You won’t forget?”

“I won’t forget. Promise.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re alive. Love ya.”

“Love you, too. Have a good day.”

Susanna paused at a window, holding the phone and staring out at the sunlit lake, managing the sense of loss, so magnified by nerves. The life she loved wasn’t over, just changing. She and Brooke were exploring new territory in their relationship, and this move only underscored that change.

Susanna needed to let go of the childhood mother/daughter relationship with all the parenting and rebellious overtones. Brooke didn’t need much parenting anymore. Just some guidance and advice when she asked. A sounding board when she needed to talk and sort things out in her head.

Instead of longing for what had passed, Susanna needed to be excited about their new relationship. Her daughter was growing into an amazing young woman.

Could Susanna possibly be any more blessed?

That answer was no, and she shouldn’t let fear of change or anxiety about all the things riding on this job overshadow her appreciation of the moment. Those moments shouldn’t ever be taken for granted.

Finances had been unbelievably tight since Skip had died. She’d managed to keep the family going on one salary by putting his life insurance policy to good use with the house and some mutual funds. But the expenses had grown along with the kids.

Between Brandon’s ball tournaments and training camps and Brooke’s art history internships both in and out of the country, travel expenses alone were breathtaking. Then there were the cars. Insuring two under-twenty-one drivers—especially when one was male—still was challenging.

But college had worked out better than Susanna could ever have hoped. Both kids were high achievers. Without their scholarships, they would have had to rely on the prepaid educations she and Skip had purchased years before. There would have been no selling the house because the kids wouldn’t have been able to afford housing even if they’d stayed in New York.

No, Susanna had absolutely nothing to complain about, and maybe the tide was finally turning. She’d been in survival mode since Skip had died, grasping every single second with her kids and continually putting one foot in front of the other.

For the first time in so long, Susanna could almost see a glimmer of light at the end of what had been an endless tunnel. They were alive and healthy, and they were within driving distance again. This promotion to property administrator gave her a chance to improve the quality of life for all of them.

If everything went as planned.


CHAPTER THREE

JAY SPUN AROUND WHEN he heard shuffling footsteps. Sure enough, Walter bore down on him with a curious expression.

“What are you doing in the bushes— Oh, I see,” he said in his deaf-old-man voice that carried halfway down the hall.

There was no missing the view from this prime spot behind a majestic palm in the dayroom entrance. Susanna stood beside the CareTracker, a touch-screen computer that protruded from the wall. Kimberly, the shift R.N., appeared to be explaining how to work the charting system.

“One might think you don’t trust the new administrator,” Walter said.

“I don’t know her, so how can I trust her?”

“Think spying is the way to go, do you?”

“You sound like Amber. I am not spying.” Jay spent his every waking moment with Walter and everyone else around here. How could they possibly think he was doing anything but hiding from them? Jay grabbed precious seconds alone with both hands and would continue to do so for six more months. Then he wouldn’t have to hide again.

“Have some faith, Walter. Why would I need to spy on Susanna? Look at her handling Kimberly. Professional. Friendly. Pleasant smile. Great legs.”

Great legs?

Jay tried again. “At least she won’t scare the residents. I think we should at least give her a chance, don’t you?”

“You want me to lurk in the bushes, too?”

“Just taking a minute to catch my breath.”

“And enjoy the view.” An accusation.

Jay couldn’t exactly deny it now, could he? “Don’t give away all my good hiding places.”

That got a reaction. Walter rolled his gaze heavenward, no doubt sending up a prayer to Gran for divine intervention. “You need to get a life, boy.”

“Um, yeah. That’s kind of the point of selling this place.” Jay stepped from behind the palm and headed down the hallway, dodging the lecture he sensed forthcoming.

Walter would not piss in Jay’s cereal today. Not when his plan was getting underway. He’d gotten Susanna settled in the cottage last night, and had arrived to find that she’d preceded him onto the property this morning. Imagine that. There was hope this plan might actually work, and he didn’t want to jinx anything by listening to Walter’s negativity.

* * *

SUSANNA’S SECOND DAY WAS all about understanding routines at The Arbors. She got to work before the third shift ended, before the morning routines got into full swing when the residents awoke. Touring the first-floor halls, where residents required hospital-type care in the nursing center, she chatted with staff who were closing out the shift with quiet efficiency.

Her day was off to a more relaxed, albeit earlier, start today, for which she was grateful. She needed to get her feet under her as an administrator, and starting the day on her own, without Jay running interference, did much to soothe her nerves.

She discussed individual cases with the LPNs, tried to commit resident names to memory and found that someone very generously put scrapbooking skills to good use. Personalized collages of biographical data, hobbies and a photo hung beside each door. She’d noticed them yesterday, but took the time today to appreciate the effective genius of the collages. Putting faces to names made the learning curve so much simpler.

Mrs. Donaire had been a professor in France.

Mrs. Highsmith had eight children, eighteen grandchildren and four great-grandchildren.

Mrs. Munsell had an obsession with Elvis.

The collages would provide easy topics to chat with the residents about to help Susanna get to know everyone.

“Kimberly, who’s responsible for those biographical collages?” Susanna asked the head R.N. during a pause in the explanation how to chart patient information on the computerized system.

The Arbors used cutting-edge medical charting technology, which meant all resident contact was documented so all caregivers accessed only current information.

“Tessa, the activity director,” Kimberly said. “Did you meet her yesterday?”

Susanna nodded. “Amber looks a lot like her.”

“Except for that pretty dark hair. Amber gets that from her daddy.” Kimberly smiled. “The residents make those collages with Tessa’s help. It’s one of the ongoing activities around here—getting to know me.”

“I noticed that on the activities calendar and assumed it was some sort of meet and greet,” Susanna said. “So, so clever.”

“Tessa would appreciate knowing you think so. Mr. C. gave her all kinds of grief for putting nail holes in the walls when she hung up those frames.”

Susanna glanced at the frame beside Mr. Butterfield’s door. The man was a retired career naval officer. His work appeared to have had something to do with submarines. “I suppose we have to make sacrifices for a greater good.”

“Better not let Chester hear you say that,” a familiar voice said from a distance.

The sound of that voice brought Susanna up quickly, a flutter of breath in her throat as she found Jay looking morning fresh, cheeks pink from a recent shave and hair damp.

“Good morning,” he said with a throaty edge to his voice, a rough-silk sound, as if he wasn’t fully awake yet.

“Good morning.” All her predawn calm evaporated beneath a rush of adrenaline, so intense it surprised her.

“Only one person around here cared about those holes, Mr. C.” Kimberly rolled her eyes. “You know those collages are excellent memory prompts.”

“Only for the folks who can remember their names.”

Susanna stared. Joking about memory problems in a memory-care facility? That was about the last thing she expected.

Kimberly waved him off with a laughing “Pshaw.”

Susanna listened curiously, knowing Gerald, or any VIP from Northstar, would likely faint on the spot if they’d overheard this particular exchange. Corporate professionalism being what it was, anything that wasn’t politically correct was taboo.

“I didn’t realize the collages were memory prompts,” she said mildly.

Jay nodded. “To be fair, every effort to build memory helps, and the volunteers find them especially useful while they’re getting to know their way around.”

“New administrators, too,” she admitted.

“Guess they’re worth all the holes, then.”

He didn’t look convinced, but politely acquiesced for her benefit. Susanna wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She felt somehow robbed of her words, as if she couldn’t think clearly.

“No holes for the birthdays and death notices posted in the front lobby.” She filled the sudden awkward silence with a completely irrelevant observation.

“True,” Jay agreed, leveling a gaze her way, somehow the green of his eyes all the more vibrant for his freshly scrubbed appearance. “That information is handy. Not only to engage the residents who can remember those sorts of details but to remind the staff and volunteers.”

“Tessa briefs everyone in the mornings on special events,” Kimberly explained. “We provide balloons, and Liz serves cake at lunch so it’s a big party.”

“What a wonderful way to help the residents celebrate and feel special.” Susanna knew that keeping the residents engaged was a full-time job and an essential part of healthy senior living. “Tessa’s also responsible for decorating around here?”

Jay nodded.

“I have to admit I couldn’t imagine anyone outdoing the activity director at my last facility. But I’m impressed.”

Every foyer leading to a separate wing had been decked out with decorations to recreate Hawaiian beach scenes—palm trees and bright umbrellas and lawn chairs. A section near the first-floor activities area had been cordoned off and filled with sand while the wall was covered in a floor-to-ceiling digital image of a Pacific coastline.

“This is such a tough time of year to make exciting,” Susanna said. “Summer’s over. Labor Day is over. In New York, we can play up autumn, but here in Charlotte it seems a bit early.”

Kimberly brushed her fingers across the touch-screen display. “We won’t be in full leaf change for another month. It’s something to see if you haven’t already.”

“I think I’m in for quite a treat,” she agreed, then thanked Kimberly for taking the time to walk her through the CareCharter program and found herself alone with Jay.

“You got off to an early start today,” he said.

“Lots to accomplish.”

He nodded. “If you don’t mind, I need coffee. Walk with me to Dietary and tell me how your first night went.”

“Phone calls to let everyone know that I made it to Charlotte safely.” Phone calls to Brooke and Brandon before she’d passed out face-first on the big four-poster bed in the guest cottage. “Then I spent some time with the personnel files, refreshing myself on the staff. I’ve been through them before, but it was nice to put faces with the names.”

Jay beelined for the industrial coffee brewer in the kitchen and offered her a cup, which she accepted gratefully.

“Doesn’t sound as if you did much settling in.” He dispensed a cup for himself.

“I’ll have time to get organized this weekend.”

He took a long swallow and grimaced. “See what I mean?”

She met his gaze over the rim of the mug. “Not quite VIA, but not too bad.”

“That’s kind.” He swallowed another sip. “But it’s leaded, and that’s what’s important.”

Susanna chuckled. “Oh, I remember what I wanted to ask you, Jay. You have a lot of family members on staff. I’m curious. Is this a Southern thing or a private-facility thing?”

It certainly wasn’t a corporate thing when the legal department had clear-cut guidelines about what constituted conflict of interest.

Jay paused with the cup to his mouth. “I’ll go with the private facility. We’ve established The Arbors as a great place to work. Our five family members span three generations and four departments. Different last names.”

“Wow. And no conflict of interest?”

“None. In fact, it’s exactly the opposite. Lots of loyalty with the families.” He raised his cup in a salute. “But Northstar can conduct new hires how they see fit. My staff will be grandfathered in.”

No, Jay definitely wasn’t pulling any punches. Susanna inclined her head and sipped to avoid a reply, not wanting to engage in controversy so early on her second day.

Gerald had explained how rigid Jay had been regarding The Arbors’ employees. After the acquisition, there would have to be substantial cause and a fair bit of documentation to terminate any of the staff. She hoped he was right about the loyalty.

“The fact you have employees on staff for decades says a lot about the facility you run.”

“Something good, I hope.”

“Yes.” That was entirely honest. Northstar very much appreciated hardworking employees and worked equally hard to keep them. Susanna was a perfect example. She’d been with the company almost twenty years.

Jay seemed to appreciate the praise and smiled, which melted the hard lines of his face. Susanna was struck by how accessible he was. She’d only known him two days and it was so easy to talk with him. Personable. That’s exactly what he was, which was probably why everyone around here liked him so much.

She did have big shoes to fill. Jay’s leadership was what set the tone for the staff, and here she was a first-time property administrator—a world of difference from a man who’d grown up learning to meet the needs of The Arbors.

Northstar had placed their trust in her abilities by offering her this position, but she also knew that their faith had been encouraged by her boss, Gerald, who was also a friend. Still, everyone seemed to be interested in making a good first impression, and as the day progressed, Susanna found herself far too busy to do anything but learn her way around.

It wasn’t until the sun had set and second shift had served dinner that Susanna was ready to call it a day.

“I thought of something I wanted to ask you before I leave, Jay,” Susanna said, after retrieving her laptop case from her office and bidding Walter goodbye. “Do you park in the employee lot? I haven’t noticed an assigned administrator space, and I don’t want to inadvertently commandeer anyone’s spot in the employee lot.”

Jay had dispensed with his jacket sometime between lunch in the second-floor dining hall and the intake meeting in the conference room. Now he loosened his tie with a few quick tugs, lending him a more casual appearance.

“I don’t drive my car. I usually walk or take a golf cart.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Gerald mentioned that you lived in the main house. I didn’t realize it was so close.”

“Just over the rise from the guest cottage.”

A new neighbor for her new home, which was charming, although she hadn’t actually seen it in the light of day yet. But by moonlight and the paling sky of predawn, her new home couldn’t have been more perfect.

Susanna had only seen one photo of the main house in the property portfolio, and it appeared to be from another era. Even the sliver of roofline she could see peeking above the trees from her office brought to mind Gone with the Wind.

“You take the road?” she asked.

“There’s a path through the arbors. It’s a hike on foot but not bad with a golf cart. We should probably get you fixed up with one, too. They’re handy for getting around here even if you drive in. Just park nearest the employee entrance you use. It’s first come, first served around here.”

“Okay, thanks.” They left the administrative corridor and headed to the lobby, and silence fell between them. Suddenly Susanna was all too aware of how Jay unbuttoned his collar and breathed as if this were his first unconstrained breath all day.

“We had a par course at my last property, and it was my favorite way to spend lunch breaks when I could get them,” she said to fill the quiet.

“It’s good to get outside every once in a while.”

“Especially during the months when it wasn’t buried under six feet of snow.”

He laughed, such a rich sound. Was it possible even his laughter had a hint of the South, too?

They emerged in the front lobby, walking side by side. Security served as nighttime reception and Jay told the man at the desk, “Pete’s on tonight, if you need anything.”

Then they passed through the open doorway, where two furry golden beasts bounded at her, tails wagging, yelping and barking a friendly greeting.

“Hello, guys,” Susanna said in her dog-friendly squeaky voice as they circled her legs, clearly wanting attention. She extended a hand, waited to see how it was received.

The dogs shuffled nearer, half sitting, half standing, vying to get closer to her like two almost-identical twins elbowing each other out of the way. With a laugh, she knelt and gave each a hand, ruffling their chests in a place most dogs loved to be petted, laughing as they preened beneath the attention. “That feels good, guys, doesn’t it? So who are you? You’re so friendly.”

One sharp whistle answered her question. The barking stopped and the dogs bounded toward Jay. But only for an instant before they shot past him toward the facility entrance.

Susanna watched with amusement as Jay rolled his eyes and whistled again, bringing the dogs to a halt in the entrance and the sliding doors that opened drunkenly.

“Come on, you two,” Jay commanded “We’re not going in tonight. It’s too late. You can visit your buddies another day.”

Susanna hadn’t come across any other dogs in the facility and assumed Jay referred to the staff or the residents. Greywacke Lodge had been affiliated with an organization that trained dogs specifically for senior visits, and most residents loved the friendly canines. Judging by the way these two dogs kept glancing at the entrance, looking disappointed if possible, Susanna suspected they enjoyed visits, too.

“Boys, sit,” Jay instructed. “Try to make a good first impression for once.”

Susanna couldn’t imagine these two making any other. They were obviously well trained. “Golden retrievers?”

“Yep. Their names are Butters and Gatsby.”

“Oh, that’s sweet. Butters is younger?”

Jay narrowed a disapproving gaze at the dog that could barely sit still. “How can you tell? His lack of manners?”

True, Butters’s hind end kept popping up, tail thumping wildly before he’d remember he was supposed to be sitting.

“My fault entirely,” Susanna admitted. “How is he supposed to behave when I’m doing the squeaky voice?”

“Yeah, well, he should.” Jay scowled at the dog who’d sidled up against her to be petted again. “They like you.”

She ruffled the soft fur around Butters’s neck. “They’re so friendly, I’m guessing they like everyone.”

“Okay, you like them.”

“I do. My kids had Hershel while they were growing up. He was a golden and Akita mix.”

“Had?”

“Wonderful quality of life until he was fifteen. We still miss him.”

Jay nodded, but she could tell he approved. Something in the twinkle of his deep-green eyes. There didn’t seem to be any artifice with this man, Susanna realized. Professionalism didn’t distance him from saying how he felt or force him to only express the politically correct response.

Yet somehow he was very professional. She’d witnessed that firsthand. A natural leader.

Susanna found that very different, very refreshing from the often tentative diplomacy of corporate-speak.

Jay tossed his jacket over his shoulder. “You ready to head home, boys?”

Both dogs were on their feet instantly, glancing at her as if excited for the company.

“Enjoy your walk. I hope you all have a good night.” Somehow in the artificial light of the lamp, Jay no longer looked like the administrator and owner of The Arbors, but simply a man who’d worked a long day.

“It was a good second day, Susanna. Enjoy your night.” Then he herded the dogs away and headed toward the slope.

Susanna was still watching as they passed beyond the glow of the parking lot lights and vanished into the darkness, warmth growing inside her because of his approval.

* * *

“TWO DAYS, Suze?” Karan Steinberg said incredulously over the phone. “I can’t believe you didn’t call me last night.”

“I’m so sorry. We didn’t leave work until late, and by the time Jay helped me get my bags to the house and I got everything organized, I passed out.”

“Well, forgiven, then. But only if you slept all night. Did you? Don’t lie to me.”

“I would never lie. I can’t believe you’d suggest—”

“I’ll take that to mean no, you didn’t.” Karan’s sigh filtered over the phone. “Suze, what am I going to do with you?”

Susanna leaned back in the chair, a caned oak rocker that was one of a set gracing the gallery in front of her new home, the most picturesque cottage she had ever seen. Though it was dark, the moon illuminated the surrounding forest, and the quiet night sounds reminded her of the sunroom in the home she’d left in New York.

The evenings had once been a special time for her and Skip. After long, busy days. After bedtime stories and tucking in the kids, Susanna would brew a pot of coffee and she and Skip would sit in the sunroom and share the events of their day. For a blissful few moments, they reconnected as a couple to the peaceful night sounds of the conservation lot that bordered their backyard.

“Don’t worry, Karan,” Susanna said, knowing her friend would continue to do precisely that. “I’ll settle down once I get comfortable here. There’s been a lot of travel and a lot of change. Nerves are completely normal.”

“You’re holding up?” Karan asked. “All’s well?”

“So far, so good. I’ve been going nonstop all day at the facility. And I’m here, if not unpacked. I’ll get there when I get there.”

“But you’re happy with the arrangement?”

“I was so relieved when I saw this place I got weepy. Jay must think I’m the biggest idiot.”

“Who’s Jay?” Karan asked.

Karan zeroed in on what she considered most important. Men would always top that list. That had been the way it was in middle school. That was the way it was in middle age.

Not that almost forty was exactly middle age. Not if Susanna planned to live to be a hundred, anyway.

“Jay Canady, owner and property administrator of The Arbors.”

“The man you’ve got to convince to sell the property.”

“One and the same.” A man with a charming smile and melodic voice.

“What’s he like? Helpful, I hope.”

“Very, I’m happy to report. Not really what I expected.”

“How so?”

Susanna paused before answering. “He wants the acquisition to happen, but on his terms. I haven’t figured out much more than that yet. I’m too busy getting acclimated.”

“Do you think you’re going to like the job? It’s a lot different than what you’d been doing.”

A lot more responsibility. Karan was probably right to worry especially because she knew everything involved in making this move—all the worries, all the uncertainty, all the indecision.

She also understood how much of Susanna’s peace of mind rode on things falling into place to reassure her that relocating her family had been the right choice. Karan knew everything because they were BFFs, as Brooke always called them.

Best friends forever.

This would be the first time since middle school they’d lived so far apart. Of course, Karan traveled a lot, not to mention splitting home base between residences in the Catskills, Manhattan and on the Connecticut shore, but not even college or marriage—marriages in Karan’s case—had placed as much distance between them as this job.

“I think this place is what I need right now. The learning curve will distract me, so I won’t miss the kids so much.”

“As long as it doesn’t keep you too distracted. You need to get a life, Suze. It’s time. Past time, to be honest.”

“I know. I know.” But knowing and doing were two different things, Susanna had discovered. Between her kids growing up and moving away and leaving New York behind herself, she felt as if the grieving process had started all over again. Maybe not as overwhelming as it had been in the months after Skip’s death, but she felt just as isolated, alone.

Rising, she headed inside, nudged the door shut behind her, suddenly needing light and walls around her. “I took a big step by taking this job.”

“You did,” Karan acknowledged.

Setting the cup on the coffee table, Susanna glanced at a photo she’d placed in the living room. The only unpacking she’d done aside from hanging up her suits had been to place a photo in every room, so wherever she turned she’d see the face of someone she loved.

Karan and her husband Charles’s wedding photo was in the dining room. Brooke’s and Brandon’s smiling faces graced several rooms. In this photo they sat in front of last year’s Christmas tree. Their last Christmas in their home.

Ugh. “It’s another world around here.” Susanna switched gears to bridge the distance she suddenly felt from her old life. “You will not believe my new place. Totally Gone with the Wind, I swear.”

“Tara or the slave quarters? You keep saying guest cottage. It sounds small.”

“Don’t start.” She sank onto the sofa, into soft cushions. Definitely down-filled. Something she’d never have been able to indulge in when the kids had been young. A sofa like this might have lasted two hours during the pillow fights or fort-makings at one of Brandon’s slumber parties.

“There are flowers everywhere. The place is called The Arbors for good reason. Walter said it’ll be even more beautiful when everything’s in spring bloom. I can’t even imagine. The place is already heaven everywhere I look.”

“I know you love that, Ms. Green Thumb. And here you were worried about leaving your conservation lot. Who’s Walter?”

“The property CFO.”

“He’ll be staying with you after the transition?”

“Walter and everyone else on the payroll. Jay has negotiated provisions for all the personnel. I won’t be making any changes without putting up a fight.”

“Then let’s hope you like everyone. Particularly Walter, since he’s doing your old job. You’re a tough act to follow.”

Susanna envisioned the white-haired gentleman with the deep drawl. “He’s been on the payroll for longer than I’ve been alive. He’s got things under control.”

“Sounds like your first few days are going well.”

“Thank God. At first glance, everyone appears capable and efficient. They’ve definitely been friendly. Lots of real Southern charm around here.”

“Everyone is probably as worried about keeping their jobs as you are, Suze. Remember that. Once Northstar starts cutting the checks, those loyalties will make the transition, too.”

“Fingers crossed. But I am encouraged. With the facility and the people.”

“And the living arrangements.”

“Thankfully.” Not that decor and design mattered all that much. Unless the place had been a trailer on cinder blocks, Susanna was moving in because the price was right.

Free housing was part of her package. Gerald had convinced Northstar she should be on the property to accommodate a staff used to constant access to Jay. And Jay had needed to assume some financial responsibility to offset expenses in the event he chose not to sign in the end. This was one of the perks that didn’t cost him.

But Susanna never shared financial worries with Karan if she could help it. Her BFF had grown up in a much loftier tax bracket. As a result she was casual with money in a way that only came from never having to worry about whether or not there’d be enough.

“Explain to me how you’re going to be homeless when I own all these houses?” Karan had said in some variation more than once. “Take the kids and live in the lake house or the beach house or go to Manhattan. Brooke loves it there.”

For Karan the move would be that simple. She had such a giving heart. Ironically, she also had no clue how generous she was, which was one of the very reasons Susanna adored her.

“Define encouraged,” Karan said. “Does that translate to mean you’ll get used to living in the guest cottage?”

“This place is perfect for me. I’m one person.”

“Not if you want me to visit. Or your kids.”

“Brooke can sleep with me and Brandon can bunk in the office. You know we’re big on slumber parties. For you and Charles, there’s a Hilton on the other side of the UNC campus. I already checked.”

“Good. How big is Jay’s place?”

“Think Tara in Gone with the Wind.”

Silence.

“What?” Susanna asked.

“Well, I’m not sure how I feel about a man who lives in a plantation and leaves you in the slave quarters. He couldn’t clear out a wing? He is selling the place and moving, right?”

“Jay didn’t put me anywhere. Northstar made the arrangements.”

“What are they doing with the plantation?”

“One of my objectives is to make recommendations. Northstar is looking at the potential for a rehab facility or maybe adding a facility that’s not specifically Alzheimer’s related. I haven’t seen the place in person yet, but it’s old, so renovating to code could be expensive. I’ll have to see.”

A task for another day. She could tackle only one thing at a time without feeling overwhelmed. She was already bolting upright in bed hours before the alarm rang.

“Well, you’ve got time,” Karan said generously. “Brooke won’t graduate until next year. I’d be surprised if she didn’t decide to settle near you.”

“If the acquisition goes as planned, I’ll know whether or not I want to buy something. If Brooke likes it in Charlotte, we’ll set up a new home base.”

“And you can get a life again. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life alone, do you?”

“No, please.” She exhaled a long breath. “Not the dating speech. I’m too fragile for that right now.”

“No mercy. You’re too young to wait around until Brooke or Brandon make you a grandmother. You need to get out and have some fun. I realize it’s been a while for you, but there’s more to life than just working and taking care of everyone. I know you had all your plans laid out, but things have changed. You need a new plan.”

Susanna had always been the focused one, the one who’d known what she wanted. Karan was worried. And right. Susanna did need to figure out how to move on with her life.

And she would. But until the kids were on their own, finances took precedence. Meeting her family’s needs was top priority, which meant she had to do everything in her power to insure that Northstar acquired The Arbors. And that meant when she wasn’t in the facility learning how to be a property administrator, she was at home boning up on Alzheimer’s care.

Was she hiding from moving on with life? Probably. Did Karan know she was hiding? Probably.

But there were only so many hours in the day. “I’ll figure things out, Karan. One step at a time, and you’ll help me. Just like you always do.”


CHAPTER FOUR

JAY HAD VISITED THE COTTAGE every night since Susanna had arrived a week ago. First night he’d helped her unpack her suitcases and shown her around. Second night had been a blown electrical breaker. Third night was a problem with the washing machine, which hadn’t been used since Walter’s niece had needed a place to stay during a divorce.

Repairs were the nature of old houses, and old houses were Jay’s life. While the facility and guest cottage didn’t come close to touching the age of the main house, they weren’t new by anyone’s estimation. In fact, when he figured out where he wanted to put down roots, he’d build a brand-new place so he wouldn’t have to worry about anything going wrong for a while. And when something eventually needed repairing, he could to run to any Home Depot to pick up standard-size parts. Better yet, he’d call a repairman.

But that sweet plan was still months away. With any luck he’d fix everything that needed fixing before signing the final papers, so Susanna could get a few repair-free months. Then the grief would belong to Northstar.

The dogs had accompanied Jay on each of his visits, and tonight was no different. They ran beside the golf cart as he steered into the yard then they bolted for the door.

Jay whistled, but the dogs ignored him, nails clattering on the wood as they clambered up the porch steps. Following, he found the door ajar and hoped Susanna had left it open; otherwise, he’d be back again tomorrow night to replace the lock.

“Butters, Gatsby,” he called through the doorway, hoping the beasts hadn’t trashed the place.

That familiar high-pitched greeting from the back of the house sparked another round of barking. Jay stood in the threshold, undecided about whether to wait for an invitation. He didn’t want to be as rude as his dogs, so he remained outside, listening to the commotion within.

Butters and Gatsby liked Susanna. Jay wouldn’t admit this aloud, but he could tell everything he needed to know about a person from his dogs. They were the best yardstick. Might sound crazy but he’d learned the trick while trailing his great-grandfather to the barns when this place had still incorporated a farm.

“Animals will tell you what’s going on in a person’s heart,” Great-Granddad had said. He’d been gesturing to the goats and herd dogs, but he’d meant all the animals on the farm. “If they shy away, you’ll do well to shy away, too.”

Wisdom or wives’ tale, Jay couldn’t say, but the advice had stuck and hadn’t yet failed in all these years.

“Lose anyone?” Susanna’s voice brimmed with laughter as she appeared with the dogs flanking her, their shaggy tails wagging close to lamps and knickknacks.

She’d already changed from her work clothes into jeans and a pullover sweater that outlined her trim curves.

“Boys,” Jay said, and both dogs finally decided to show some manners by obeying the command. “Sorry about that.”

“Not a problem. They’re such sweethearts. I invited them to visit any time they like. And I promised some treats as soon as I shop.” Reaching down to ruffle Gatsby’s chest, she displayed a wedge of creamy skin when her sweater rode up on her waist. “Sorry, boys. I’ve got grocery shopping on my to-do list, but I can’t seem to get there.” She glanced at Jay. “What do they like if and when I do actually make it to a store?”

It was such an innocent glance to accompany an innocent question. She was being nice, he knew, but when he met her gaze, her eyes so blue they looked almost purple, her one nice gesture drove home how closely their lives had become entwined in the short time since her arrival.

He wondered what she’d been eating if she hadn’t shopped. Liz, the dietary manager, had been sending lunches to Susanna’s office, but that couldn’t be all Susanna was eating, could it?

“Dog bones if they’re eating like dogs. Chicken and steak when they’re not.”

She smiled in that quick way of hers, as if she was just looking for reasons to smile. “They’re in luck, then. Dog bones will go on the grocery list, and I cook chicken and steak.”

“If you spoil them, you’ll never get rid of them. Consider yourself warned.”

“They’re welcome here anytime.”

The greedy beggars could spot a sucker a mile away. They crowded around her legs until she felt obligated to pet them and make those squeaky cooing sounds again. Jay took the opportunity to shoot off a text to Pete, who was duty manager tonight.

“So how are you settling in?” Jay asked when she finally realized the dogs would vie for her undivided attention all day if she let them. “Place working out? It’s small.”

“It is,” she agreed, “but it couldn’t be more perfect.”

That smile still tugged at the corners of her mouth as she surveyed the room, looking pleased. “Just me here.”

“Saw the pictures of your kids all over the place. Will they be coming to visit?”

She nodded, her features softening with a mother’s expression, all fond memories and love. “Hopefully Thanksgiving. My son plays baseball, so his schedule can be tricky with practice and ball camps.”

There was a lot of longing in that statement, which said something about how much she cared. Something reassuring, which calmed a bit of the guilt that still crept up when he least expected it. And when he did.

Was he being selfish to want the kind of life that made him sound like Susanna did, a life where he had something more to look forward to than home repairs, the never-ending needs of the facility and dementia? Was that really too much to ask? He still lived in the house he’d been born in. He’d put in his time.

“I know you haven’t asked for my advice, Susanna, but I’m going to give it, anyway. Make a point to get off the property. There’s a lot going on in town, and it’s good to get away. The Arbors has a way of commandeering time. We call it Standard Arbor Time and it’s nonstop, around the clock.”

“I think I’ve seen a glimpse of that this week.” She sounded charmed by the idea.

Jay supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, with the way she worked from sunup to sundown. But something told him busy was exactly the way she wanted to be right now. Funny how life had them in exactly the opposite places. She’d reared her family and wanted to be busy. He wanted to get busy rearing a family and filling his days with something other than dementia care.

He wondered how long ago her husband had died. Had his death been unexpected? Jay didn’t ask. Her personal life was none of his business even if there had been some tactful way to ask about a dead spouse. There wasn’t.

Leaning against the arch separating living room from dining room, she folded her arms over her chest. “Amber mentioned a mall by the racetrack. And I read about a historic plantation I’d like to visit that’s not far from here.”

“That’s a start.” And then they were staring at each other across the expanse of newly polished floors and overly friendly dogs. He might have kept standing and staring except Butters sidled toward the wall shelves, knocking some sense into Jay.

“The golf cart?” he prompted, forcing himself to stop enjoying the view. “It’s easy to operate, but you need to know about the battery. Chester will keep his eye on it. You let him know when it needs to be fueled.”

“I can park it near the maintenance and engineering shed where you keep yours?”

He nodded.

“Please show me whatever you think I need to know. I didn’t mean to keep you. You were kind to offer your help.”

Pushing away from the wall, she breezed past him with that same breathless energy and graceful motion he noticed every time he looked at her. She headed outside and he moved to follow, but the dogs cut him off, nearly knocking him over in their haste to trail her. Sorry beasts.

Jay headed after them, making sure he didn’t pay attention to the gentle sway of Susanna’s hips as she took the stairs with light steps or to the dark curls bouncing on her shoulders. She chatted the whole way as if she didn’t want to hear any more silence between them, either.

“I understand from Gerald that your grandmother is responsible for building the main facility. What about this cottage? There are so many antiques.”

“This place was my mother’s.” Her hideaway from the world.

“She collected antiques?”

“Sort of. Stuff she picked up here and there. My place is filled to the brim. She has a collection of mantels. You’ll have to see them one day.”

Had he just invited Susanna to his place?

There was a hitch in her step as she slanted a curious gaze his way. “Mantels? As in fireplaces?”

“You got it. I’ve got mantels without fireplaces attached to them. She turned one into a bed frame. She was crazy for them. Doors and windows, too. Used to drag the family to pick through old buildings while most folks were doing yardwork or watching Saturday morning cartoons.”

“The mantel in my living room?”

“From a pre-Civil War cypress cottage near the coast. Took her a while to bring that one back to its original finish. It had taken a beating from being so close to the salt water.”

Susanna stepped up her pace again. “Humph. How imaginative. I would never have thought of anything so creative.”

“She was that.” Before Alzheimer’s claimed her, and all he had left of his loving, laughing and infinitely creative mother was a bunch of mantels, doorknobs and windowsills.

“I for one am very grateful,” Susanna said graciously. “Did she use this as the guest cottage?”

“Sometimes. When we had guests who didn’t want to stay in the house with us. She had some cousins who used to visit from Ireland. They were older and with my brother and I tearing around like wild boys... Well, let’s say they enjoyed a place where they could go for some quiet. My mother, too. She used the cottage for work. She liked to leave the house and have a place where she could concentrate without too many distractions.”

“Work?” Susanna’s interest piqued visibly. “Your mother didn’t work at The Arbors?”

“Everyone in my family worked at The Arbors.” Past tense. Wasn’t anyone left but him. Except for Drew, who didn’t count, but Jay wouldn’t dwell on something he couldn’t change. And he couldn’t change his brother. “My mother was a writer, too. Whenever she was on deadline, she liked to wrap her head around her work. Used to tell my brother and me not to show up unless we were bleeding.”

Susanna went to the passenger side of the golf cart. “I’ve said the same to my kids.”

Jay would take her word for it, since he hadn’t gotten to that part of his life yet. “Ever drive one of these before?”

Susanna shook her head, more glossy waves tumbling around her neck and shoulders in a display that was so feminine, so at odds with her ultra-businesslike appearance.

But not right now. Not when she was casually dressed, all tiny and curvy and tucking her waves behind her ears as she leaned eagerly toward the controls for instruction.

Circling the golf cart, he hopped in and explained the basics. He showed her how to disconnect the battery when she parked the vehicle then took her for a spin to the access road, with the dogs trotting beside him as they always did.

Then they swapped seats and she took him for a spin, starting off tentatively but increasing speed as she gained confidence.

“Not so close, Butters,” she shrieked while making a turn. “They won’t get too close and get hurt?”

“Not a chance. They keep up with me all the time. Have since they were pups. And if they don’t get out of the way of a moving vehicle they deserve what they get.”

He had to work to keep a straight face as he enjoyed her horrified expression. “They’ll move if you get too close.”

“Keep your distance, Butters. I’m serious.”

“That your mom voice?”

She scowled at him, and he lost the battle with a smile.

“So what did your mother write?” she asked after another lap around the cottage.

“Fiction. Literary stuff for magazines. Short stories mostly. Had a few anthology collections published.”

Slowing as she cornered the house yet again, she paid close attention to the dogs as she parked. “How interesting. I bet she got lots of inspiration from around here. From what I’ve seen so far, this place is another world.”

“Oh, it’s that. No question.”

She chuckled, taking the opportunity to ruffle Butters’s neck when he nuzzled up to her. “Keep out from under the tires. Promise me.”

The dog was so greedy for attention he would have promised to live forever. Jay escorted Susanna back to the porch before heading out with his dogs again, but she stopped short and said, “Where on earth did that come from?”

Taking the stairs with light steps, she made an attractive display as she leaned over the big basket propped in a rocking chair. Even in profile, he could see her expression soften as she inspected the gifts.

Perfect timing, Pete.

“Guess I should have had it waiting when you got here a week ago,” he admitted. “But I didn’t think about it until you said you hadn’t made it to the grocery. Welcome to The Arbors.”

“Oh, Jay, how kind. Thank you so much. This couldn’t be more perfect.” She looked as if she was going to pick up the basket, so Jay skipped up a few steps and took it from her.

“Tell me where.”

She held the door as he stepped through, or tried to, since the dogs bullied their way in first. “Kitchen, please.”

He scowled at Gatsby, who headed straight for the sofa. “Don’t even think about it.”

For once the dog obeyed.

“I’m so excited,” she said. “I won’t even have to fight my kids for the chocolate. That’ll be something new.”

The new director of The Arbors had a sweet tooth from the looks of it. She was rooting through the basket. “These pears are gorgeous. And caramel popcorn. Oh, I’m in for a good time.”

“Hope you enjoy it.”

She glanced up and met his gaze with pleasure deep in her blue eyes. “This was really sweet. Thank you. I couldn’t have asked for a better first week—work or home.”

She was making too big a deal out of his effort. All he’d done was text Pete to bring the same welcome basket they gave to all The Arbors’ new ALF residents.

But he was glad she liked everything.

Herding Butters and Gatsby outside, he let the dogs scamper down the steps and said to Susanna, “Enjoy your night.”

Then he headed in the direction of the shed to pick up the path to his house, resisting the urge to glance back to see if she was still there.

* * *

ANOTHER WEEK PASSED before Susanna managed to get the golf cart out of her shed. A frenzied week spent learning names and procedures and routines. A week spent observing medical assessments, intake meetings and care plan evaluations.

A week spent conducting performance appraisals of the various departments and orientation meetings to explain how she and Jay would work together during the transition. She let the staff know what to expect and coached them on how to address her with problems and questions. She reassured them all would be well and hoped they believed her.

Vanity had been the biggest deterrent to driving the golf cart. She was all about inspiring confidence with the staff and fitting in and couldn’t gauge the effect of the drive on her appearance. Frizzy hair? Melting makeup? Sweat stains?

But she’d begun to feel ridiculous and wasteful for taking the car on the short drive, when Jay arrived at the facility every morning with every hair in place. Except for the hair he was always pushing back off his forehead, but Susanna guessed that was a result of a cowlick rather than the morning ride.

She waited until dawn began to fade the sky before heading outside. She hadn’t wanted to tackle the unfamiliar path in the dark even though she’d been raring to go for an hour already.

Two weeks into her new life and the nerves still hadn’t worn off. She crashed at night, bone weary from the long days of information overload. Unfortunately, she was still bolting upright as quickly as she had upon first arriving at The Arbors, and usually long before the alarm, thoughts racing with the upcoming day’s agenda.

With any luck, the ride in the brisk predawn air would start her day off right. God knows she could use some fresh air.

Then there was the fact that she didn’t want to miss anything on this journey. Especially not Jay’s house.

Her phone vibrated as she clambered into the golf cart, and she hoped her plans wouldn’t be derailed by an emergency at the facility that would force her back into the car.

But the name on the display surprised her. “Good morning, Karan. What are you doing up at this ungodly hour?”

“Your guess,” Karan replied. “Saw Charles off to surgery and was wide-awake. Figured I’d give you a call since you’re the only one I know awake at this hour besides my doctor husband.”

Susanna held the phone to her ear and backed out of the shed slowly. “You’re in time for a journey through the arbors to The Arbors.”

“Maybe I’m not as awake as I thought—”

“Remember those acres and acres of flowers I mentioned? I’m taking the golf cart to work so I can see them.”

“I hope you don’t wilt like a flower. Isn’t that what you Southern belles do?”

“I don’t think I’ve been here long enough to qualify as a girl raised in the South.”

“Pshaw. You’ve been a G.R.I.T. from the minute you crossed the Mason-Dixon Line. A Girl Relocated to the South.”

“Tee-hee.”

“You sound awfully chipper this morning,” Karan said. “May I assume work’s going well and you’re getting some sleep?”

One out of two wasn’t bad, and some sleep was relative. “Can’t complain. I’m finally going to see Jay’s house. It should be right off this path.”

“I thought you were supposed to assess the place.”

“Not on the top of my to-do list. That report won’t be due until the acquisition.”

“You sound confident. Things must be going well.”

Susanna held on tight as the cart bucked over a protruding tree root. “We’ve hit a few bumps, but nothing we haven’t been able to work through.”

Yet. They hadn’t tackled the profit-and-loss statements, either. Jay insisted on full disclosure so he could gauge the corporate effects on The Arbors, and she was using every ounce of her financial expertise to figure out how wide the disconnect was between his services and payroll and Northstar’s parameters. Juggling was the key, which put sleepless hours to good use.

“We’re still in the honeymoon phase,” Susanna admitted. “Jay’s walking me through the way things work at The Arbors so we haven’t done a lot of procedural projections. There’s time.”

“You think that’s the best way to handle—”

“Ohmigosh, Karan. I think this is it,” Susanna blurted when a low brick wall appeared through a sudden break in the trees, a vision of manicured civilization in the forest.

“The plantation?”

“Yes. This has to be it. We’ve got formal landscaping. Tiered bushes and ornamental grasses and flowering vines. It is. Here’s the entry.”

There was no gate, only an opening marked by stone urns, both stained by rust from the irrigation water. The flagstone walk bore similar stains and wound into another world.

Jay’s world.

“Ohmigosh.” Susanna whispered reverently into the quiet morning. “This must be the backyard. There’s a huge lawn with those big oak trees you see in movies. Generations old like the arbors. Jay told me his great-grandmother planted them.”

“See the house yet?”

“House doesn’t even begin to describe it, Karan. Seriously. Can you say ‘antebellum plantation’?”

“Tara?”

“Actually, no.” Susanna laughed. “Except for the ambience of another era. The house isn’t even white. Just the eaves.”

Those eaves towered above two floors with massive white columns that outlined a wraparound gallery. The house had been constructed of blond brick, and the walls contrasted with the black shutters that framed every floor-to-ceiling window. And there were a lot more windows than the three that graced the porch of her cottage.

She couldn’t even begin to fathom what might drive someone away from The Arbors, and she knew the curiosity might kill her.

“You know, Karan, my cottage is very similar in design. I’ll bet that was intentional. A miniplantation.”

“Brooke should like that. She’s always loved dollhouses.”

As Karan would know since she’d indulged that particular fancy since Brooke was old enough to be trusted not to gnaw on the tiny furnishings of the ridiculously expensive dollhouses Karan gifted her with.

“Fingers crossed. I really want the kids to consider wherever I live as home base. At least until they settle down.”

“As long as you’re there it will be home base.”

Susanna appreciated the reassurance. The most important thing was being together. “I think I can see the driveway. I’ll bet if I took a left at the fork instead of the right that brings me to the cottage, I’d wind up here.”

“I can’t believe this is the first time you’re seeing the house. With as much as you say ‘Jay this’ and ‘Jay that,’ I can’t believe he hasn’t invited you over for a Bundt cake or pecan divinity or whatever Southerners do to welcome neighbors.”

“It’s not like that, Karan. I told you. But I’m really dying to know what could possibly possess him to sell this place. It’s a total mystery.”

“Ask him.”

“I can’t ask him something personal like that.”

“Why not? Seems a logical question to me given the fact you’re taking over his job.”

“Because I can’t.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end before Karan said, “You’re working awfully hard to delineate boundaries between professional and personal. What’s up with that?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Susanna only knew she’d better get a move on. She didn’t want to get caught gawking at Jay’s house like a tourist.

“I’m talking about how many times you’ve mentioned getting personal with this man. I hear it every time we talk. You’re curious about him, Suze.”

“Of course I’m curious. Why doesn’t he simply parcel off the land, sell The Arbors and keep his family home?”

“Why don’t you ask him? Oh, wait. That’s personal. Are you interested in Jay? I mean interested, interested.”

“Stop it. That isn’t funny.” Neither was the heat rushing into her cheeks at the mere mention of being interested in Jay. “I’ll have a hand in deciding the fate of the man’s house.” And wherever Jay was headed must be incredible considering what he’d be leaving behind. “That’s all, Karan.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I can’t even believe you. Some best friend.”

“What can’t you believe—that I know you so well? What kind of best friend would I be if I let you lie to yourself?”

Susanna slowed the golf cart to a stop, pulled the phone away from her ear and scowled at it, a thrill of annoyance overshadowing the excitement of a moment ago. “That’s unfair.”

“Are you sure?”

Susanna didn’t answer because that simple question had a complicated answer. Karan wasn’t entirely wrong. Susanna couldn’t think about being interested in another man, not Jay or anyone. The very thought made her uncomfortable deep inside, not so much guilty as...unable.

She hadn’t realized until this very moment.

“I’m broken,” she admitted.

“No, my dear sweet friend,” Karan said in a thoughtful tone. “You’re just making peace with the hand life dealt you. You and Skip had big plans, and things didn’t turn out as you expected. You need a new plan.”

“Is that what’s happening?”

“I think so. You were with Skip for your entire adult life. Now he’s gone. It’s got to be easier to shut down a part of yourself than it is to open up and take chances on living a life you didn’t imagine.”

Susanna let the idea filter through her, stared down the path beneath the arbors in the paling dawn, vines winding through trellises and archways so twisted it would be difficult to follow any one to the root. Impossible to separate.

She and Skip had been like that. Their lives entwined into one, so now she couldn’t find her own roots, didn’t think she’d ever bloom again.

“I’m broken. If I wasn’t, I’d be able to figure out how to move on, because I know better than to waste a second when none of us have any idea what the future holds.”

“True, true,” Karan said. “But you’re not wrong to feel the way you do, Suze. You know, but you’re human.”

“I have everything in the world to be grateful for. I shouldn’t be stuck—”

“You are grateful. You’re the most grateful person I know. You don’t waste a second with your kids or me or anyone you love. I’m just saying that you need to branch out. Before you’re old and gray and no man would ever want you.”

“Karan.” But Susanna found herself smiling.

“There’s nothing wrong with being interested in Jay.”

“This isn’t about Jay. It’s about me.”

But Karan laughed a knowing laugh. And kept laughing until Susanna hit the gas and took off, obligated to drown out the laughter with some very rational arguments.

“He’s helping me learn the ropes around here. And even if that wasn’t the case, even if I was stupid enough to jeopardize the acquisition by mixing business with pleasure, Jay couldn’t possibly be in the running.”

“Why’s that?”

“The man is younger than I am. Seven years younger. That’s another lifetime. And, oh, did I mention he’s leaving? As in selling this place?”

“I hear what you’re saying. Now hear what I’m saying. I know you. Listing all the reasons you can’t be interested in a man isn’t going to change the fact if you are.”

“I’m not. I just met him, for heaven’s sake.”

“I’ll reserve opinion if you don’t mind. I’m the one you used to drag through Ashokan High so you could accidentally run into Skip, remember? ‘He has second lunch so let’s walk all the way around the freaking school to get to our lockers so we have to go through the cafeteria.’ This ringing a bell?”

Susanna crushed the phone against her ear as if that might block out the sound of Karan’s voice. Her heart suddenly pounded too hard. “You’re ridiculous, Karan. I’m not in ninth grade. I’m forty years old—”

“You’re not forty yet, thank you very much.”

Of course she wasn’t, because then Karan would be forty, as her birthday was nearly a full month before Susanna’s. “Whatever. I outgrew crushes a long time ago.”

“So long ago you might not remember what one was?”

“Puh-leeze.” She sounded alarmingly like Brooke. Daughters grew up to be like their mothers but Susanna had had no idea the reverse was true. “I’d remember a crush. Trust me.”

“You sure about that, Suze? The last time you had a crush on anyone you were a virgin. That makes the sum total of your experience, one man, a really long time ago.”

And he’d been the right man.

“I had a lot of sex in my fifteen years of marriage, thank you.” Likely even more than Karan, who’d had three marriages to two men plus one long-term relationship and a lot of time off in between. Susanna kept that observation to herself.

“It matters. You were comfortable with your husband. You both grew together. That’s different than dating.”

“My kids are dating.”

“Sounds like their mother might want to be, too.”

“I have not had enough caffeine for this yet.”

The path wound around the west side of the lake. Zipping past her own office window, too dark to see inside except for the tiny red glow of the emergency exit sign above the door, she headed toward the maintenance and engineering building, relieved to see empty space where she knew Jay normally parked.

She didn’t want to see him, not with all these thoughts Karan had planted in her head.

“I have to go.” She needed to recover from their topic of conversation.

“Susanna, seven years does not make you a cougar if he’s an adult and not a man-child. Biological age doesn’t make that distinction. Maturity does.”

Susanna mentally twitched. Cougar. Just the thought was enough to conjure visions of Jerry Springer and celebrities older than herself who dressed like Brooke.

“You are killing me here.”

“Don’t be silly, and don’t shut me down. You’ve been alone a long time.”

“Like I’ve had time to even think about that.”

“I know you haven’t had time. But I don’t want to see you blow right past something good if the time is right.”




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