Worth the Trouble(17)

She hastily scanned her most recent entries—humbling fears scribbled on paper.

She shut her eyes, forcing herself to shrink the ball of alarm lodged in her heart. She’d barely stifled those thoughts when troubling new ones sprang forth.

Now she’d have to face Hank over breakfast and pretend like nothing unusual had happened last night. Like he didn’t know all of her secrets. Like he wasn’t feeling sorry for her.

Pressing both heels of her hands to her temples, she squeezed her eyes closed once more. She rubbed her thumb between her eyebrows to smooth out the creases before blowing out a long breath. After jotting down a brief new entry to clear her mind, she tied up the journal and set it aside.

Her muscles ached. It had been a long, long time since she’d gotten drunk to chase away restlessness. Now shame swam through her veins for having been unable to handle all the love at her brother’s wedding.

Fortunately by tomorrow she’d be back to other matters, like her career. As for last night, hopefully the hot water of a long shower would wash away her humiliation.

Nope.

Although clean, she still felt like hell. Sighing, she reverted to her typical response—dressing to kill. Riffling through the numerous outfits she’d packed for the long weekend, she chose a sophisticated, blood-orange Robert Rodriguez sleeveless shift minidress and nude-tone, high-heeled sandals.

She brushed her hair into a low, side-swept ponytail, applied a minimal amount of makeup, popped two Advil, and went to breakfast on the veranda.

Seagulls squawked and flew close to the shoreline, with a few braver ones landing on the nearby railing. The view from the Spring House—a 163-year-old historic landmark—was pretty, if not as magnificent as the one from their family vacation home on the Mohegan Bluffs. Admittedly, the magical quality dusk had lent last night no longer crackled in the air. Beneath a brilliant sun this morning, there were no shadows or soft lighting to hide the defects of the sun-bleached wood, dry patches of grass, or the debris along the shoreline.

Jackson had already claimed a table, so she joined him. She noticed David and Vivi were standing at another table, speaking with some of his colleagues. The slick black hair of one guy triggered an unpleasant memory of drinking shots. She swallowed the resulting wave of nausea and sipped some water to break up the acid in her stomach.

“Where’s Dad?” she asked Jackson.

“He and Janet took an early ferry.” He scratched his neck. Cat noticed his puffy eyelids and the deep creases in his face. “Apparently they had someplace to be this afternoon.”

“What time are we leaving?”

“I left my car on the mainland, so we can take any ferry. I’d like to leave in an hour or so.” Jackson emptied a packet of sugar into his coffee. “I’ll drive you to Stamford so you can catch an express train to Grand Central.”

“Sounds great, thanks.” The festivities had drained her. She needed to return to her private haven and plan her next move. Plus, her elderly neighbor, Esther Morganstein, relied on Cat to grocery shop for her every Sunday afternoon. They’d formed a tradition of having tea when she delivered the food. Esther eagerly anticipated their weekly visit because her own family now lived in Texas, and Cat enjoyed the plucky old woman’s company.

“You look a little rough.” Jackson leaned over and tipped up her chin to study her eyes. “Bloodshot! Did you get to your room okay last night? You never said goodnight.”

“I’m fine.” She waved her hand dismissively, biting back a retort about looking in the mirror. “If you’re so concerned, maybe you should pay a little more attention to your baby sister before the fact, not after.”

“Well, I got distracted.” He winked devilishly. “Actually, I feel a little shitty myself. Hank and I were smoking stogies out here when Amy and her friend Denise joined us for a few late-night drinks. After that, my memory’s a bit fuzzy.”

“Nothing more to tell?” So Hank had doubled back to hook up with Amy. She nibbled at her lip, dying for more details.

“Nah. I left them all when I finished my cigar.” Jackson gulped down some coffee then smiled slyly as he looked toward the hotel doorway. “But maybe Hank has something to confess.”

Cat followed his gaze to see Hank and Amy coming outside together. Was it a coincidence, or had they arrived together? She couldn’t be sure, but it looked like Hank momentarily blanched upon seeing her. Another wave of nausea gurgled.

“Over here!” Jackson waved his cohort over to their table.

Cat steeled herself, unsure of how to react. The knot in her stomach wasn’t helping, nor was the fact that Hank pulled out another frickin’ chair for Amy. Great.