The Secret Between Them

Sebastien eyed her. “What’s wrong?”

“I...need to tell you about something that probably isn’t on my Wikipedia page.” She took a deep breath. Her hands were trembling just anticipating telling him.

Sebastien set down his coffee mug. All his attention—love and concern—on her.

That gave her the courage she needed. “People don’t know this...and I actually promised myself to never tell anyone, but...” She had to do this. Had to bring Sebastien back to her again. “I went to a lawyer shortly after my injury, when I was still seventeen, to look into being legally emancipated from my mother.” She wiped her eyes with her thumb. “You have to understand, Sebastien, my mother was my only family. She and I were...well, I was exhausted and I couldn’t please her anymore. For a lot of reasons I had to separate myself from her, and that one drastic step changed my whole life and not necessarily in the best way.”

She stared at her black skirt, hoping her Wikipedia page wasn’t specific enough to clue Sebastien into what was missing. Kyle’s role. Which would only lead to a secret she could never divulge to anyone.

Instead, she reached for the other, lesser thing that bothered her. “I think I’m kind of screwed up because I have to go back into that same law firm again on Monday. I think it’s messing with my head. That’s all,” she finished.

“Why? Why are you getting an inheritance from this rink owner? Is he your secret father or something?”

“No!” She laughed aloud, relieved. “He was a client. Like you were,” she teased. “That’s how I connected with him again after so long. He mentioned a ring he wanted to give me—an inexpensive onyx ring. Maybe he was just sentimental about the old ice rink days, but like you, I’m not.” She shivered. “Anyway, I’m considering not going to the will reading. I don’t want to go back into that law office. I know it’s silly, I know the law firm is run by the daughter and not the father anymore, but still—”

“Do you want me to take off work, go with you to see the lawyer on Monday?” Sebastien asked. “For moral support?”

“You would do that?” she asked, surprised. Sebastien’s job always came first.

“Of course.”

“I...yeah.” She smiled at him, grateful. “Please do come to the lawyer’s office.”

“Great. It’s settled.” He patted the seat beside him. “You want to hang out today?”

“I thought you had to work?”

“It can wait. I’d rather spend the day with you.”

That was a change. She felt so much better. “Thanks for not giving up on me.”

“No worries,” Sebastien said. “You know you can trust me.”

She hoped she could. She really did.

Because if she couldn’t, she didn’t have anyone else.

CHAPTER THREE

THE KIMBALL FAMILY Law Firm was in the same old brick building that Kyle remembered from his youth. Natalie’s father, Asa, had run the law firm back then. Now he was retired and spent the winters in Florida, leaving Natalie in charge.

A receptionist in heavy-framed glasses met Kyle in the lobby and offered him water or coffee while he waited. Kyle chose water. The receptionist—Zena—settled him in an empty conference room at a glossy conference table so big a person could play Ping-Pong on it. Sun from a skylight lit up the room, and several large floor plants thrived. The walls were covered with framed postcards. Wallis Point in the past.

Kyle had always wanted to be rooted, to belong somewhere, and this room gave him the feeling of history. His mom had grown up in Wallis Point, and even though there weren’t any close relatives left, it comforted him that there were people in town who remembered her. It had never sat well with him that Joe had, in effect, kicked him out of the rink and forced him to leave town as an eighteen-year-old.

He was home now.

He peeled at the label of the water bottle that Zena had given him. He opened it and took a long, refreshing swig.

Natalie came into the room. Her heels clicked on the old wood floor, which had been restored to a bright sheen. Her hair was up and she wore a high-necked blouse under a gray business jacket. He might have been intimidated by the lawyer look except for the Disney Beauty and the Beast bandage she had wrapped around her thumb.

She put a stack of folders on the table and sat at the corner beside him. “Thanks for coming in today.” She gave him a smile that helped the stiffness in his back relax a bit. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” he said politely, “m—” He choked back the word ma’am. He needed to remember this wasn’t the military.

Natalie smiled gently at him. “Joe met with me several times over the past month. I got to know him better. I remember him from skating at the twin rinks as a kid, of course, but...” Natalie tapped the folders. “Kyle, he wanted you to have this.” She opened the top folder, and Kyle felt himself holding his breath.

She slid a key across the table toward him. “This is the key to 18 Linden Lane.”

Not the key to the rink. Kyle deflated. This was something he hadn’t expected at all.

“Joe’s house,” he said. From the age of ten to almost eighteen, Kyle had lived there. He knew this key well. Somewhere, tucked away in a duffel bag in his apartment in Maryland, he had a copy.

Natalie also took a letter from the folder and handed it to him. “This is from Joe, to you.”

She’d mentioned it during her initial phone call, but Kyle had forgotten. Frowning, he placed the letter on the table, but he didn’t open it.

His hands were shaking. He didn’t know how he felt about this. “If Joe was thinking about me so much, why didn’t he call me? You found me on the internet easily enough.”

Natalie smiled sadly. “I don’t know, Kyle. I’m hoping he might have answered some of your questions in his letter. I don’t know for a fact because, of course, I didn’t read the letter—though I admit to wanting to.”

“Why did you want to?”

“Because Wallis Point is a small town. I care very much about what happens here. The rink is a community rink.”

He glanced at the Disney bandage on her thumb. “You have kids?”

Natalie nodded. “A daughter. She’s three. She’s in her princess stage. A future ice princess, she hopes.”

“So...what about the rink?” he asked, his heart beating hard. “Where are the keys for that?”

“That’s a good question.” Natalie sat up straighter, took in a breath. He got the impression she was struggling to keep the smile on her face.

“Joe did want you to run the hockey rink...”

But. There was a but there.

“There’s a stipulation,” she added.

He squeezed his palm around the thin metal house key. “What kind of stipulation?”

Before she could answer, a commotion sounded outside. Both he and Natalie turned toward the open door. Zena’s loud voice was greeting people in the lobby.

“Jessica’s here?” he asked.

“Maybe.” Natalie got up and shut the door, then sat back down, facing him.

“Isn’t she joining us for the will reading?” Kyle asked.

“All things considered, I decided it’s best I talk with you both separately.”

“Why?”

“As I said, Joe did want you to run the hockey rink. I believe it was his intention that you come home permanently and take over ownership and management of the Wallis Point Twin Rinks.”

“Yeah, that’s what I want, too. But what does that have to do with Jessica?”

There was a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” Natalie called.

Zena stuck her head in. “You’ve got a phone call you’ll want to take. Also, I’ve got Ms. Hughes and her friend settled in the small conference room.”

And her friend. Hell, that has to be Sebastien.

“Thank you,” Natalie said to Zena.

Kyle was gripping the water bottle so hard it crumpled. After Zena left, he said, “Is Jessica part of the rink deal with me?”

“Yes, she is,” Natalie said. “You see, it was Joe’s intention that you both work together to bring the rink back up to speed.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You might want to read Joe’s letter.”

That was the last thing he wanted. If he could go beyond the grave to see Joe now, he would punch him.

“Does she know about this?” Kyle asked.

“No, not yet.”

“I doubt she’ll go for it,” Kyle said matter-of-factly. The thought calmed him. Yeah, Jessica would definitely turn this down. He doubted she’d want to run the rink with him.

He met Natalie’s gaze. “Can I make Jessica an offer and buy her out?” he asked. “It’s better that I do this on my own.”

“Technically, you can’t. At least, not yet.”

Kyle didn’t like the sounds of this. It wasn’t the lawyer’s fault that this deal was so insane—that was Joe’s doing. Likely, Natalie had no idea that Joe blamed Kyle for killing Jessica’s Olympic chances. “Give it to me straight and simple, no legal jargon, please.”

“Before you can buy her out, both of you, together, need to put forth a good faith effort into restoring and running the twin rinks profitably for six months, at which point the facility will belong to you both equally. Then you can make your own agreement as to whether to buy or sell.”

“Six months?” With Jessica? Cripes, he thought. “What if I don’t ever want to sell and she does?”

“I’ll help you through those questions when the time comes.” Natalie leaned forward and tapped her papers. “But, Kyle, that’s not the part of the will that I’m concerned about right now.”

“It gets worse?”

“First things first. You both need to agree to work together. If either of you refuses the opportunity, then the property will be sold outright and the money given to charity.”

“What the hell kind of inheritance is that?” Kyle demanded.

“I’m sorry.” Natalie sighed. “I tried to talk Joe out of it, but he said he had very strong reasons for setting up the arrangement this way. I mitigated it as best I could. I warned him about the importance of discussing it with you in advance, but his response was to write the letter that I gave you. Jessica will receive one, as well.”

Natalie stood. “Kyle, please read his letter, plus the will on the table, and I’ll be back in a few minutes. I have a quick phone call to return, and then I’ll be back to discuss your concerns and desired course of action before I see Jessica. Please sit tight.”

Natalie left, closing the door behind her.

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and finger. He should have known that Joe would pull something like this on him.

Under the table, Kyle moved his leg. He should also be thankful that Joe hadn’t known about his injury. If he had, Kyle doubted he would’ve wanted him managing the place at all. Joe had no patience for people who didn’t show full competence at their job.

Kyle put his head in his hands. Until these last few days, he’d never thought too much about his relationship—or lack thereof—with his stepfather, but in truth, Kyle probably had joined the military just because Joe had been so down on it. A Vietnam vet, Joe hadn’t had a good experience, or so Kyle assumed. He really didn’t know much, because Joe refused to talk about it. Joe just raged. Foul moods. Brooding. With Kyle, he’d been brutal.

With women—Kyle’s mom, with Jessica and Jessica’s mom—he’d been the perfect gentleman. It was all an act, though.

Kyle had never known his own father. He’d died in a snowmobile accident when Kyle had been a baby. His sled had fallen through lake ice up in Maine. Kyle’s grandmother, before she’d passed away, had told Kyle that the authorities hadn’t found the body until the spring thaw. Kyle’s mother had met Joe when Kyle was really little. His mom had doted on Kyle. Her life was wrapped around his. It had actually taken her a few years of grieving for her deceased husband and then careful, platonic dating before she’d trusted Joe enough to marry him.

Those first years had been great. But Joe’s darkness came out after Kyle’s mom died.

He felt a lump in his throat. He remembered his mom as gentle and fragile. When he’d lost his leg, he’d felt glad that she wasn’t around to see it. It would’ve devastated her. Still, he had no doubt she would’ve supported him no matter what he did with his life. He’d supported his mom, too, in all her decisions. He remembered the day she had asked him what he thought about her marrying Joe.

“He has an ice rink. Marry him, Mom.”

So she had. And for a while everything had been good. But after his mom got sick and passed away, everything about Joe turned bitter.

If it weren’t for the rink, who knew what would’ve happened to Kyle? He’d always felt the rink had saved him after his mom’s death. Now he wanted it to save him after losing his leg.

Natalie returned, shuffling her folders. Busy and official, she sat and looked brightly at him. “So, after reading the documents, tell me what you think?”

Kyle hadn’t touched Joe’s letter, still on the table. He hadn’t even glanced at the will.

Kyle leaned forward to face the lawyer. “I don’t care what you have to do, Natalie. Whatever you have to promise Jessica to make this deal happen, please just do it.”

“You don’t have any questions for me?”

“No. Get Jessica on board any way you have to.”

“All right.” Natalie nodded as she pushed back her chair. “Let me talk with her and I’ll get back to you in a few minutes.”

Kyle nodded. He had a good idea of Jessica’s thoughts regarding partnering with him. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Natalie tilted her head. “Why do you say that?”

He couldn’t explain years of history to her, ending with the guilty fact that he had caused Jessica’s career-ending injury. He just shook his head. “Honestly, it would be a lot easier if you could help me put together a deal now to buy the rink behind the scenes. Somehow that has to be possible.”

Natalie shook her head. “No, it’s not viable, Kyle, because at this point, if the rink goes up for sale you’d be competing with land developers with deep pockets. The land alone is what makes the property quite valuable. And at this point, I’m bound to take the highest bidder. That isn’t the case in six months. In six months, if the business is profitable, then we can arrange for you to achieve financing and buy out Jessica’s share. But first you need to partner effectively with her.”

Partner effectively with her? Frustrated, he sighed. “Maybe you should just let me talk to the bank?”

Natalie reached over and put a hand on his arm. “As a member of this community, and one with a child who I hope will someday use the skating rinks, I’m heartened that you want to keep the facility open. However, without a track record of running a business, I don’t see the bank giving you such a large loan, under any circumstance.” She smiled. “Let me talk with Jessica. I’d like to hear what she has to say before we make any plans.”

Kyle shut his eyes. He was doomed.

JESSICA UNZIPPED HER coat and unwound her woolen scarf from her neck. The law office felt stifling. Sebastien seemed comfortable, though, strolling around, hands in his pockets, checking out the framed old postcards on the walls. They’d been in the conference room for twenty minutes now.

“Do you still think this will is about you getting a nothing piece of jewelry?” Sebastien asked. “This seems like too much of a production, asking you to show up here, then waiting like this. Maybe you’re inheriting something that’s worth some money?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Jessica sighed. She was starting to feel guilty about not attending Joe’s funeral. Once he’d been the closest thing to a father figure that she’d had. Then, after she’d left skating, she hadn’t even wanted to see him. He reminded her of those other, more painful times. And she hadn’t wanted to be his physical therapist at first, either. “I don’t know why he even chose me.”

“Joe never said anything to you? Never a hint?”

“No. He just made that offhand comment about his ring that one time.”

“Well, did he have a lot of money? Because this law firm doesn’t look cheap.”

Jessica had to admit, she liked the vibe of it more now, with the daughter running it, than when she’d consulted with the father. Today, the decor was homey and inviting, a mixture of modern and antique, but with renovated and restored architectural features. Really, this whole town had so much historical character—she’d fallen in love with it at first sight.

She and her mother had shown up one cold February, similar to this one, and they, too, had taken a winter rental near the beach. Not as nice a place as where Sebastien lived, but the raw beauty of the New England beach in winter had made an impression on Jessica. She’d wanted to stay in Wallis Point forever. She’d begged her mom. She’d been so tired of moving around.

Natalie came into the room, a folder in her hand. She wore a cute light-gray suit and black pumps. Jessica rarely got to dress up anymore. As a physical therapist, she wore a T-shirt, jeans and sneakers—the uniform of her trade.

Natalie smiled at her. “Hi, Jessica. Thanks so much for coming today. I’m sorry I left you waiting.”

“This is my friend, Sebastien. Sebastien, this is Natalie Kimball.”

“I was admiring your postcards,” Sebastien said.

“Thanks,” Natalie replied. “I collect them. I love learning about the local history.”

“It’s interesting that the beachfront arcades look nearly the same a hundred years later,” Sebastien remarked.

“Take a look at the panels with the turn-of-the-century citizens strolling the boardwalk.”

“I saw them.” Sebastien smiled. “Great old bathing suits.”

“I sometimes wonder what people back then would think if they were transported here to modern times,” Natalie mused. “Bikinis. Flip-flops.”

“Tattoos,” Sebastien added, laughing.

Natalie smiled. Jessica sincerely doubted that Natalie had any tattoos. Jessica had a small one, well hidden. She wanted another, but it seemed as though Sebastien was sort of horrified by the idea.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve wondered why I asked you here,” Natalie said, seating herself at the table across from Jessica. “The reason is that Joe Mansell has left you a half share in the twin ice rinks, together with Kyle Northrup, and—”

“No, thank you.” Jessica pushed back her chair and stood. “Kyle can have the ice rinks. I’m not interested.”

But Sebastien gave her a look. He glanced at Natalie and raised a brow.

“Joe left you a letter,” Natalie said kindly. “Would you like to read it before you make your final decision?”

“No, thank you,” Jessica repeated. She looked at Sebastien to back her up on this.

“I’ll read it,” Sebastien replied, seating himself at the table.

“No.” Jessica took the letter that Natalie offered and stuffed it in her purse.

“Why, Jess?” Sebastien asked, turning in his chair. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’re not even willing to listen.”

Tears pricked in her eyes. It was wrong that her boyfriend thought that of her. She’d assumed after their conversation yesterday that he’d understood how painful this topic was for her. She’d told him she’d been here before. Literally here, in this room. She’d been seventeen years old. Jessica had read in the newspaper about young athletes who’d emancipated themselves from their parents. Her mother was...well, she was figure-skating royalty. She’d won a gold medal in the Olympics, and she wanted her daughter to follow in her footsteps. Jessica had wanted to please her. In the beginning, it had been fun. But in the end, she was suffocating with the pressure and expectations.

“Sebastien, could I talk with the lawyer alone, please? I don’t want to work in an ice rink. I thought you understood this.”

“Do you realize how much that property is worth? I’m saving you from yourself here. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.” Sebastien turned to Natalie. “Tell Jessica what it’s worth.”

Natalie pressed her lips together. “Close to two million dollars,” she admitted.

“Jess, don’t you understand what kind of money that is? How much work it takes to earn that outright? How many hours I have to spend traveling and not even come close to that?”

“Technically,” Natalie said, directly to Jessica, “you would be required to work with Kyle for six months to try to make the business a success, in good faith, before you’d get your half. In addition, if you don’t agree to this term, then the land and the rinks will be sold, immediately, and the money given to charity.”

“There you go—please do give it to charity. I prefer a children’s charity, if at all possible.” Jessica said it with a deadly calm. Then she looked pointedly at Natalie. “I talked with your father once. He knew about my past history and my concerns.”

“Jess, be reasonable,” Sebastien murmured.

She gritted her teeth. Her mother used to talk to her this way. And Jessica had listened, coming as close to being destroyed as she ever wanted to come again.

She’d had thoughts of suicide at the time, which had terrified her. Her mother had icily told her there would be no legal emancipation, but that Jessica could do whatever she wanted, her mother was going back to the West Coast, convinced Jessica would never make it in Wallis Point on her own.

But Jessica had. She’d cut her hair and changed her looks. Stopped the training regimen, the diet. In the early summer she’d moved herself into a cheap studio apartment in an old motor inn near the center of town. She’d waitressed at a busy beach restaurant. People didn’t recognize her. She’d felt free. She felt herself healing. In the autumn she’d gone to community college, taking whatever courses interested her. And because she really had sustained injuries over the years and she wanted to understand her body, how to stretch and heal, she had studied physical therapy. Eventually that led to her current career.

She hadn’t wanted to come to this office today—Sebastien had convinced her. The first time she’d come here, Asa Kimball, of the Kimball Family Law Firm, had convinced her to start with a simple conversation with her mother instead of filing emancipation papers. So they’d both come in and he’d mediated a discussion between them. Her mother had been furious with her but a verbal deal had been struck. Her mother never reneged on it and neither had Jessica.

And they hadn’t spoken since.

“Why did Joe Mansell leave the ice rink to Jessica?” Sebastien asked Natalie.

The young lawyer took a deep breath, but her smile stayed on her face. “Why don’t we review the terms together and then we can talk about that?”

Jessica covered her solar plexus with her arms and leaned forward. She was developing her own suspicions regarding Joe. She hadn’t quite understood when he’d first come in, insisting that she be his physical therapist after his knee operation. She’d tried to refuse, but her boss believed that clients should choose the therapist they felt most comfortable with, and Joe had remained adamant that his therapist should be Jessica.

“Why?” she’d asked him.

“Kyle was responsible for your injury when he deliberately flooded the ice that day,” Joe had said. “It’s his fault you were hurt and left skating.”

Her blood had turned cold. Kyle had had nothing to do with her injury or her decision to pull out of skating.

She pulled Joe’s letter from her purse, took her time opening it, drawing one finger inside a crease in the envelope flap, making a long, slow, jagged tear in the heavy paper as she eased it open.

“What are the terms?” Sebastien was asking Natalie. He drummed his fingers on the table. “May I read the will?”

“Yes, of course, if Jessica would like.” Natalie nodded at Jessica. “First, though, let me give you an overview, in layman’s terms.”

“Great.” Sebastien crossed his arms. “We’re listening.”

Natalie pursed her lips. “As I explained to Kyle Northrup, his stepfather’s intent was to keep the skating rink open to the community. As such, he believed it best that Kyle have assistance from Jessica. Jessica, he believed, had knowledge from the figure skating community and Kyle from hockey. It’s a twin rink facility, and, in that business, the love, knowledge and understanding of both worlds is important for success. Joe believed that you two were his best hope.”