Waking Up To Love (Lakeside Porches Book 4) (3 page)

There was nothing for it but to keep trying her cell while he stood in the cold wind, watching planes take off, and running up a charge in the short stay.

When he was too chilled to take any more, he headed for his car, only to stop halfway down a row, turn back and shade his eyes. A British Air jumbo jet thrust itself into the air. The whine of jet engines and the stench of fuel assaulted him. He covered his ears and continued down the row of hulking SUVs, shiny sedans, and cute, bright-colored compacts.

He halted at the end of the row and gestured around him, exasperated.
Where is the bloody car?
A click of the remote made the Jaguar chirp and flash its lights, a few rows to his left and halfway back to the terminal.

Finally, out of the wind, in the comfort of leather and chrome, he shouted aloud to the rearview mirror, “What were you thinking, telling her to follow her dreams?”

A wild-eyed man glared back at him. His dark brown hair, normally styled and smooth, stood in wind-whipped tufts. A splotch of pink lipstick on his shirt collar censured him.

“You deserve your lonely old life.”

The tap of a horn alerted him that someone needed his parking space more than he did. As he put the Jaguar in gear and rolled forward, his own high-handed advice about chasing dreams smacked him in the face.

Lyssa is your dream. Chase her.

“I’m on the horns of a dilemma, sweetheart,” Justin Cushman told his wife Gianessa.

“Ouch.”

He laughed and reached for her hand.

“Tell me your dilemma,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I know it’s not the college, because whoever just called has got your British accent going.”

“It was Kyle Pennington, calling me from his estate in Cornwall. He left me a message yesterday, too, giving me a proper dressing down for meddling in people’s lives.”

She glanced at the clock above the table in the nook of their gourmet kitchen. “He called just now? It’s two in the morning there.”

“Broken hearts don’t sleep.” Justin planted himself in his chair and flicked the edge of the placemat with his thumb.

“Do I know this Kyle person?” Gianessa closed the dishwasher with a snap. After carrying the carafe of decaf to the table with two mugs, she poured a full cup for each of them.

“No, but you know the person who broke his heart. Lyssa Doughty, who is dining with us tomorrow evening.” Justin took a sip. “You make a much better brew than I do.”

“She’s interviewing for your new position, right? Didn’t Manda know she was coming?”

“No, Joel and Manda left for their long-overdue wedding trip to Ireland the morning the funding came through, and they’ve been
incommunicado
, as they should be. Come to think of it, they planned to surprise Lyssa in London on their way home.” He shook his head. “Best laid plans. But if Lyssa takes the job here, they’ll have plenty of time together.”

“And how is it that both you and Lyssa know this Kyle?” Gianessa held her mug with two hands and blew across the liquid to cool it.

“Pennington. He’s a business associate and a very old friend of mine. Well, young friend, actually. When I was finishing my doctorate at the University of Chicago’s London campus, Kyle was there, working on his doctorate in computer science. Encryption, I think. He was only eighteen at the time, to my almost thirty. He reminded me very much of Joel. We did a lot of photography together and hiked every square mile of the wild Cornish countryside around his ancestral home.”

“So he’s a genius?”

“Yes. But, instead of working for one of the intelligence agencies, he formed a private corporation to provide network security to financiers, and I’ve since become one of his clients.”

“You introduced him and Lyssa, didn’t you?” She gave him a knowing smile.

“When Lyssa got the fellowship in London last year, I asked Kyle to watch out for her.”

“You were matchmaking again, weren’t you, dude?”

“I hoped they’d hit it off. And it sounds like they fell in love.” He took another swallow.

Gianessa set down her mug. “Then why is Lyssa interviewing for a job at Tompkins College?”

“From what Kyle said, I gather he was strictly hands-off with her, which was my advice to him.” At Gianessa’s squint, he added, “She was brand new to sobriety, you recall.”

“You didn’t tell him she’s a recovering alcoholic, did you?”

“Of course not.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I simply pointed out that he’s considerably older, and she’s intent on launching a career.”

“So he treated her like a brother, thanks to your advice. Face it, dude, you screwed up your own matchmaking.” She wrinkled up her face at him, and the corners of his mouth curved in a smile.

“After this, I’ll leave the matchmaking to you.” He leaned across the table for a kiss.

“I’m no good at it either, Justin. I thought Gwen and your hot professor, Rand Cunningham, were a perfect match.”

“Not,” he said with a laugh.

“So Kyle kept his distance, and Lyssa thought he didn’t care for her.” Gianessa pushed her mug away. “And when you called her about the job at Tompkins College, she jumped at the opportunity. Is that the size of it?”

“I believe so.” Justin shoved back his chair with a
harrumph
.

“And Kyle hates you for stealing Lyssa away for this new job?”

“Precisely.” He stood at the window and stared out at his beloved Chestnut Lake. Tonight, it shimmered with moonlight, perfect for lovers. He reached back a hand for Gianessa to join him. “Kyle Pennington is a trusted friend, Gianessa, and I’ve damaged that trust.”

“Wait a minute.” She came to his side and stroked his back. “How did he reach the conclusion that she’s in love with him? Maybe he’s kidding himself.”

“Evidently, at the airport this morning, she confessed her true feelings and then fled in tears. You know how airport security is. He couldn’t abandon the car, and she’d switched off her phone.” He raised his eyes to heaven and shook his head. “Kyle is brilliant beyond measure, but he’s not all that smart about women.”

“He’s a dating dud?”

Justin waggled his hand back and forth. “Very handsome fellow, fit, funny, but hasn’t dated much since his first marriage failed.”

“What happened there?”

“I remember the wedding as a formal ceremony in an elaborate church in Truro, followed by a lavish outdoor reception on the grounds of her family estate. The girl had a pedigree centuries old. She was quite lovely but hadn’t a brain in her head.

“The next thing I knew, they were divorced. Over a few pints at the pub, Kyle told me his bride had become bored with his quiet, intellectual nature and found herself a randy duke who paid a fortune to a legion of solicitors to have the marriage to Kyle annulled.”

“Poor guy. And he loves our Lyssa?”

“Desperately.”

“And you’re flying her here from London”—she paused to kiss his cheek—“so you evidently think she’s perfect for the position that comes along with your newly funded grant.”

“I planned it that way, yes. She’s done phenomenal work with that public-broadcast series on financial literacy. And I’d like her and Manda to be closer to each other. But not at the cost of my friendship with Kyle Pennington. I feel miserable, and I deserve to.”

Gianessa flashed him a high-wattage smile. “That’s your dilemma, isn’t it? If you make her an offer, like you want to, you’ll squash true love between her and your friend Kyle?”

“How can you smile about it?”

“I know you, dude.”

“You’re saying there’s a solution, are you?”

“Of course. And you can’t resist a challenge.”

Lyssa powered down her window and looked up with pleading eyes. “I’m very sorry for whatever I’ve done, Officer.”

The name Granger was stenciled on his pocket. Where had she heard that name?

“Did you know you were going fifty in a thirty?” he asked.

“Ohmigod.”
I’ve
got
to stop thinking about Kyle.
“I’ve just flown in from—”

“License and registration,” he ordered.

She produced the paperwork for the rental car and fiddled through her purse for her Texas driver’s license.
God, don’t let it be expired
.

It couldn’t be expired, she reasoned. They wouldn’t have rented her a car without a valid license. She hadn’t needed a license in London, between public transportation and friends. And Kyle.

While Officer Granger examined the documents, Lyssa scanned the outskirts of Tompkins Falls. It was too dark to see anything but a few house lights, showing a mix of older farmhouses, mid-century ranches, and spilt-level homes. Signs just ahead told her she was about to cross Routes 5 and 20, with the city of Geneva 10 miles to the east and the city of Canandaigua 10 miles to the west.

Her stomach reminded her she’d had nothing to eat today but tea and toast with marmalade
.
Every time she’d thought of eating, she’d cried instead
.

She squeezed her eyes shut against the memory of Kyle’s look of horror at the airport this morning when she’d blurted out that she might be in love with him.
What was I thinking?

But she had to know. He had always looked at her with sweet adoration, and she’d wanted to believe there was deeper feeling behind that.

“Your reason for being here, Ms. Doughty?” Officer Granger asked.

“I’m interviewing tomorrow at Tompkins College.”

“Open the trunk.”

She popped the latch. He made a circuit of her car, peering into each window, and rummaging through her suitcases. She kept herself awake by mentally reviewing the itinerary for her all-day interview.

Starting at nine in the morning she’d meet, in order, the dean of the business school, a panel of faculty from arts and sciences, the dean of students, two students who would take her to lunch, the director of the media center, the provost, and finally dinner with the president of the college, Justin Cushman, at his home.

She didn’t intend to tell anyone she was Justin’s niece’s sister. She would get the job on her own merit. She was exceptionally qualified, if she did say so herself.

“Where are you staying in Tompkins Falls, Ms. Doughty?”

“Porches Inn. It’s—”

“Run by my mother,” he said. “Who will not be happy if I write you up.”

“Oh thank you! I
promise
to be mindful of the posted speed limits.”

He touched two fingers to his forehead. “Good luck with the interview.” His feet crunched gravel all the way back to the cruiser.

With one cool hand on her hot cheek, she switched on the ignition and eased the rental car onto the highway. She drove at a sedate pace through the old city, noticing the modest shops along the main street and watching for the churches on her list. Part of settling into Tompkins Falls meant finding the best AA meetings and making sober friends.

She spotted the Presbyterian Church, home of the women’s AA meeting she had planned to attend tonight. Thanks to her late flight and her unscheduled chat with Officer Granger, the meeting had ended more than an hour ago. She brightened when she spotted Adams Street, where the daily Happy Hour meeting was held at five o’clock each weekday. Maybe she could make it tomorrow, before her dinner with Justin.

She took a left, as the GPS directed, onto River Street. Old mill buildings ranged along both sides of the canal. The brick was worn and crumbling, and the boarded-up entrances told her the mills had ceased operation years ago. The last one had, according to its Space Available sign, been turned into shops, offices, and lofts. A few lights shone from the top level.
Would I want a fourth floor loft?

River Street ended at a busy marina that featured a grid of slips filled with pleasure craft. She stopped for a moment, just above the marina, and let her gaze sweep over the panorama of a slender, moonlit lake.

Chestnut Lake. She’d seen it once, at her sister’s wedding reception, and the sight had prompted her to say she wanted to live in a place like this. Someplace not too big with a college on a lake.

The GPS reminded her to turn left onto Marina Lane. She unplugged the grating female voice, turned left, and searched house numbers for the inn that would be her home for a few days.

Porches Inn was a vintage, painted lady, whose gingerbread-trimmed porch stretched across her front like a smile.

Lyssa parked on the street. A lantern threw light on the walk. As she climbed the steps, a fifty-something woman greeted her from the door, “Hello, Professor. I see you found your way.” She motioned Lyssa inside. “I started to worry a bit when six and seven and eight o’clock came and went. Are you exhausted or hungry, dear?”

“Both,” Lyssa confessed. “Please call me Lyssa. And you’re Mrs. Granger?”

“That’s right, dear. You probably don’t want to go out for a meal at this hour. I’ll be glad to fix you a plate of leftovers from our backyard barbecue.”

“That would be grand.”

“Chicken or pork or both?” She handed Lyssa the key to her room and pointed to the front stairs.

“Chicken. And salad if there’s any.”

“Tossed salad, fresh corn on the cob and potato salad. Turn right at the top of the stairs. You have the
en suite
with the lake view and a deep clawfoot tub all to yourself.”

“That sounds like heaven,” Lyssa said with a sigh.