The Summer Getaway: A Novel(37)

He nodded. “You knew him?”

“Yes.” Robyn reached for Lillian’s hand. “I was born in the area and lived around here until I was fourteen. My mother passed away when I was eleven. My father was devastated and unable to cope, so he dropped me off with Lillian and Leo. It was supposed to be for a few weeks, but I ended up staying almost four years.”

“Those were the best years,” Lillian told her.

“I agree.” Robyn turned back to Mason. “My father was a charter boat captain. He eventually settled in Naples, Florida, and sent for me.”

Mason glanced around the room. “It’s a beautiful place to grow up.”

“It is. The house was never boring.”

They chatted for a few more minutes. Then Salvia called them in to dinner. Mason helped Lillian to her feet, and offered his arm. Robyn followed them to the massive dining room with the table that, when extended, could seat twenty-four.

Tonight it was just the three of them, clustered at one end. Salvia had already opened the bottle of wine Robyn had brought Mason.

Once Lillian was seated, Mason moved to Robyn’s chair and held it out. Before she sat down, she leaned toward him.

“I really am sorry about before. You’ve now seen me at my worst. It only gets better from here.”

His dark gaze locked with hers. “If that was you at your worst, then we have nothing to worry about.”

She took her seat. When he settled across from her, they looked at each other and smiled. It was the kind of smile that spoke of shared secrets and an intimacy that comes from familiarity and trust.

How odd, she thought. She barely knew the man. She shouldn’t feel connected to him. Or attracted.

Jet lag, she told herself firmly. She’d been up since predawn to catch her flight to LAX, and then she’d had the drive. There was nothing between her and Mason—she was just a little tired.



* * *



Harlow left for work early so she could swing by her mom’s house. They hadn’t spoken in nearly a week—probably the longest they’d ever gone without some kind of contact. At first she’d expected her mom to get in touch with her, but she’d been silent. As time had passed, Harlow had started to think more and more about the conversation. Unfortunately, the more she replayed what she’d said, the more uncomfortable she became.

As she drove the familiar route, she thought maybe she’d been wrong to insist her mother keep the house. She supposed there was a possibility that it was kind of expensive—a point Kip had made. Waterfront in Naples didn’t come cheap. Given that her mom didn’t really work and the buyout from her dad came in monthly payments, Harlow supposed it was possible that her mother qualifying for a home loan on her own was unlikely.

Which meant Harlow had been a bitch for no good reason—a concept she didn’t want to think about but couldn’t seem to ignore.

She pulled into the driveway and walked to the front door. It was a little after seven, but her mom was always up early. Harlow used the keypad on the front door to let herself in. Just in case she was wrong, and her mom was still asleep, she walked quietly into the kitchen to see if there was coffee brewing.

But the large, open kitchen was empty. Harlow looked around, surprised at the lack of coffee, the empty fruit bowl, the—

She spotted a couple of forms on the counter, along with a pile of mail, and walked over. A quick scan told her they were from a house-sitting service, giving a report on the house.

Doors and windows all secure. All bathrooms and the kitchen checked for leaks. The outdoor sprinklers are working. There was a date and a time, along with a name. The box for “confirming email sent” had been checked.

Harlow ran through the house to the master. Her mother’s bedroom was empty, and there were clothes missing in her closet.

“She can’t be gone,” Harlow said aloud. Only she was. She’d left without saying anything to anyone.

“I don’t understand,” she said into the silence.

She walked outside, careful to lock the front door. In the car, she stared at the house she still thought of as home. How could her mother have gone away without telling her?

Harlow blinked away the familiar burn of tears. How ridiculous. She was twenty-two years old. She didn’t need her mother!

But what had been rage a week ago had morphed into shame and longing. Now she battled a touch of worry. Her mom could be anywhere—what if something happened to her? How would anyone know?

Harlow told herself to take a breath. She would talk to Austin when she got to work. If he didn’t know, then she would call Jase. She didn’t have much contact with her mother’s boyfriend, but he should know where she was. And if they were off together, his office would have information.

That decided, she backed out of the driveway and headed for the marina. It was already hot and humid, despite the early hour. As she drove, she thought about the empty house and how one day it would belong to someone else. Back when her parents had told her about the divorce, her mom keeping the house had offered consistency. She’d been comfortable knowing her home, her room, her life weren’t going to change too much. She’d been going off to college, but she liked knowing the house was still there for her to come home to—at least while Austin was in high school.

But it had to have been different for her mom. She might have kept the house, but she’d lost her marriage. Harlow knew her mom had been sad but determined. At no point had Harlow thought they might get back together.