Before I Knew (The Cabots #1)(3)

He must be desperate to be willing to work with her now.

She shut off the engine but remained inside the car with the window cracked open. Leafy branches swayed in the breeze, sounding like the ghostly whispers Mark had often spoken of during manic phases. In those moments, he’d declared himself a prophet, which had frightened her, although no more than many other things he’d done or said during their marriage.

If she hadn’t become benumbed to his brain’s pattern of recovery from mania, she might’ve noticed that his depression following Joe’s death had been more acute. Might’ve realized that taking a little time off from work to comfort him wouldn’t be enough. Might not have missed the fact that he’d been lying about taking his meds and seeing his doctor.

But Mark had been a pretty good liar, and maybe she’d been too caught up in her own disillusionment and grief about Joe to notice. She’d been running on autopilot just to get through those days, reluctant to do or say anything to make the situation at home even worse. It wasn’t until Mark had mumbled incoherent apologies and hurtled toward the balcony that she’d awakened from that haze.

By then it had been too late.

Mark had jumped to his death, much like Joe had in the fatal dare.

She closed her eyes now to block the image of Mark’s broken body on the sidewalk below. Defiantly, the gruesome vision of bone, blood, and gray matter surfaced. She forced her eyelids open, fixing her gaze on the rustling leaves as if they could erase the memory engraved on her brain. The tightness in her chest eased slightly, although her eyes still stung.

Two deep breaths later, she offered up a prayer. If she had one fervent wish since her husband’s death, it was that he finally found the peace that had eluded him in life. Assuming things went according to plan, she might also know peace soon.

She twisted the platinum wedding band she still wore out of respect—and guilt—while staring blankly at the light rain now dotting the windshield. Like tears, she thought. She started the car and let the automatic wipers clear them away before heading out of the cemetery, toward her new venture, A CertainTea.

Toward the future.



Even the rain couldn’t mar the sight of the newly renovated restaurant. The elegant, one-story glass-and-stone structure sat at the end of a private driveway, amid a wooded, two-acre parcel bordered on one side by Lake Sandy. A lush, manicured lawn sloped toward the hexagonal cedar gazebo at the water’s edge, where visitors could enjoy a panorama of the four-hundred-acre lake and its shoreline, which was dotted by private homes, docks, and boats.

Colby could hardly wait to be surrounded by families celebrating engagements, birthdays, and anniversaries here. Celebrating life!

Convinced that hosting other people’s happiest moments in this peaceful setting would draw her from her perpetual state of limbo, she’d persuaded her father to invest some of Cabot Tea Company’s funds in this endeavor. Of course, that purse had strings. Technically, CTC owned A CertainTea. She’d manage it, but she’d report to her brother, Hunter.

She accepted that condition because CTC had assumed all the risk. It wasn’t like her former legal career had prepared her to be a restaurateur. But if she could run multimillion-dollar real estate and banking deals, she could manage this place.

“I was about to call a bail bondsman,” Hunter teased, standing in the open doorway. Her brother’s wire-rimmed glasses framed his owlish eyes, which constantly assessed his surroundings. His wife, Sara, had helped him acquire the bit of polish he’d never cared about: taming his thick brown locks into a neatly cropped style, and dressing him in well-made clothes. “I can’t stay long. Meeting with Dad and Jenna.”

His nostrils flared while mentioning their stepmother, like always.

When Jenna married their dad twenty-six years ago, Hunter hadn’t cared much. Unlike Colby, he’d worshipped their father and looked for every opportunity to spend time with him instead of with their mother. But when Hunter finally graduated from Berkeley and returned to take his rightful place in the family business, he and Jenna had started butting heads over everything from strategy to paper clips.

“Sorry.” Colby kissed his cheek before ducking inside, where a small cadre of workmen were finishing punch list items, like installing switch plates and drawer pulls in the bar, and touching up baseboards. “What do you think?”

“Beautiful. Now we just need Alec to work his magic.” Hunter grinned for the first time since her arrival, delighted to hire his lifelong friend.

“I know how much you want that, but I’m concerned.” Colby lowered her voice in case Alec was in the kitchen.