The Summer Getaway: A Novel(55)

“I know you’re upset with me, and with good reason, but I wanted you to know I miss you.”

Information she didn’t need or want. “Okay.”

“Losing you has shown me how important you are to me. I made a terrible mistake, and I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t sure what to do with that information. “You’ve already apologized. It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” His voice dropped. “If it was fine, you’d still be here in Florida, instead of wherever you are.”

“How did you know I was gone?”

“I ran into your house-sitter.”

“Oh.” Sucky timing, she thought. What were the odds? “I’m in California, visiting my aunt Lillian.”

He sighed. “I was hoping you were closer so I could convince you to give me a second chance.”

“Jase, we’re done. I don’t mean that harshly, but it was never going to work between us. You saw me as someone who was after your money. There’s no way to get over that.”

“How many times to I have to tell you I was wrong? You’re not that person. I get it now.”

“Even without that, we wouldn’t have made it long-term.”

Yes, he’d hurt her feelings, but the truth was that since landing in California, she hadn’t thought of him at all. As for missing him—not even for a second. Whatever she’d thought she had with him either hadn’t existed or had faded way faster than it should have.

“I wish you the best,” she said quietly. “And I hope Galen is doing better.”

“She is. We’re hopeful. Robyn, can’t I convince you to give me another shot?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

He hung up.

She tossed her phone on the bed, then flopped down on her back. Why was it the second she didn’t want the man, he was all over her? Jase’s pursuit was so perverse as to be almost comical.

“Men,” she muttered, then stood and shook her phone. “Not taking your call again.”

With her notebook, she went to her aunt’s room, knocking on the half-open door before entering.

“It’s me.”

“Out here, darling.”

Robyn walked through the large sitting room and bedroom to the patio. It was overcast and chilly, but still beautiful. Today the ocean was gray rather than blue, and the seagulls seemed especially loud. The only spots of color were the flowers in pots.

She checked that Lillian was well protected by warm blankets, then sat next to her.

“I think that painting in the laundry room is a Picasso.” She showed Lillian the picture she’d taken. “I’m not sure which surprises me more—that you have a Picasso or that it’s in the laundry room.”

Her great-aunt laughed. “The location does seem unusual. I’m sure it got there by accident.”

“It wandered in one night when no one was looking?”

“Perhaps not that, but no one would put a Picasso in the laundry room on purpose.”

Lillian reached out. Robyn took her hand, trying not to wince at her aunt’s tiny bones and tissue-thin skin.

“You’re making progress on the inventory,” Lillian said. “First the clocks, now the Picasso.”

“I’m getting an overview. You have more treasures than I realized. As I said yesterday, you should start donating to a few museums now so you can enjoy their fawning.”

“I do love a good fawning,” Lillian admitted. “As to what should be donated, I leave that to you. When you get a couple of hours, we should take a look at my jewelry.”

Robyn squeezed her fingers before releasing them. “I’m not going through anything personal,” she said firmly. “You promised me at least another twenty years.”

“Darling, as much as I love you, I’m not going to make it until I’m a hundred and fourteen. Nor would I want to. But the jewelry can wait.” Lillian pressed her lips together. “Forgive me, but I can’t help asking. Would you consider staying here permanently?”

Robyn stared at her. “You want me to move here?”

“I do. I know it’s selfish, but I love having you around.”

She didn’t know what to say. Live here permanently? That was certainly an interesting offer.

She enjoyed being close to her aunt. She also enjoyed having time to think about her future. She still battled shame and embarrassment over her irresponsible behavior, but lately she was spending more time being practical and working on a plan for her future. She wanted to eventually open an antique store. Hopefully Lillian would live many, many more years, but between then and now, Robyn planned to move forward with her education and her retail experience, while keeping herself on the financial straight and narrow.

“I’ve never thought about making this my home,” she admitted. “I have Harlow and Austin to consider. Harlow’s on her own, but Austin’s planning on moving back home in the fall. He works for his father, so I couldn’t ask him to move here with me.”

“He could get a job here. I’m not sure about Harlow.” Lillian sighed. “I’m asking too much.”

“You’re not. It’s just a lot to think about.” Move permanently to Santa Barbara? She was tempted. “What about Mason? Wouldn’t that be awkward?”