Page 44 of My Dearest Mackenzie

This had me laughing. “Well, you just said you are falling for me, so I disagree.” I wrangled her back into my arms. “Frankie…” I said against her forehead.

“Not Frances?”

“Frances, beautiful Frances,” I corrected myself. “I said earlier all I want to do is kiss you, but I don’t want to run the other way from you. I want to race toward you. But Milly was right, I’m broken in certain ways. More than most, I recognize. Being with you shows me that life doesn’t have to be like it was with my parents…or my grandparents. I just am trying to slow the process because I want to do things right…or how they feel right.”

“Mack.” My name was a breath or a whisper. “Kiss me.”

I couldn’t say no to Frances, so I did as I was told. My mouth melted into hers, the tension rising quickly. Her lips parted so our tongues could meet and I felt like I breathed in as she exhaled out.

I was in trouble. I’d spent decades crafting industrial-strength walls around my heart, while not forgiving myself for abandoning what Milly wanted. Now, when I was closer to fifty than forty, my grandmother was taking the reins. Frances Burns was not going anywhere, and I wasn’t sure I wanted her to go anymore.

With the letters still in one hand, the other palm sliding up and down my back, she said, “Let’s get out of here.”

“And forget the house tour?”

“Screw the tour,” she said, and we did.

“Do you have them in dark gray too?”

I looked up from my iPad and said, “Of course. Navy and black like you’re buying. Dark gray, a lighter gray, and taupe. A lighter taupe.”

Cam Hawkins, another longtime customer of mine, said, “I’ll take them all. When they come in I will have them fitted and shipped to my condo in Aspen for the winter.”

I nodded, making notes on my iPad. Without the tablet, I was a goner. The tiny computer kept all my client records and orders. “You should add a few cashmere sweaters for the evenings. Maybe with jeans.”

Cam nodded and said, “You’re right. If I take an evening meeting, it makes me more approachable.”

“Bingo!” I agreed, knowing Cam and his business well. “Let me pull a few darker-wash jeans and a sweater.”

Cam was already flipping through a table of socks and giving me a thumbs-up.

As I went to look for a particular pair of jeans, I thought why not someone like Cam for me? Wealthy, smart, owned a venture capital fund, and spent three months a year in Aspen, skiing and meeting with techies. I knew for a fact that he found a ton of business opportunities on these trips—while having an equal amount of fun—because I outfitted him every year. He came in every August before heading to Europe for a major shopping haul, having everything fitted when he returned from Italy or Spain or wherever he went, and then shipped to Aspen in time for his December arrival.

Cam wasn’t complicated. Sure, he had a significant other, but I worked with hundreds of Cams. Instead I’d gone and admitted to liking the world’s least eligible bachelor. A man who’d had commitment issues long before I sent him further into a tailspin.

My phone dinged as I grabbed a pair of Paige jeans, and I took a quick peek. Speaking of the devil, Mackenzie Miller was texting me.

Still on for dinner later? How is the club? Perfect night to eat on the roof…

Like I said, Mack was in a tailspin. Usually commanding and domineering in his requests, he was asking me if we were still on. There was an air of hesitancy in all of his interactions since we returned from Westchester a few days ago. He couched his actions in wanting to go about things the right way, but I chalked it up to a protective way.

I answered him quickly and went back to Cam.

Yes. 8? I’m busy at work today. I can meet you there.

No matter what, I had to keep my work strong. It was the only steady facet of my life.

He sent a thumbs-up emoji and See you then. He didn’t mention the newly found letters that were still in my possession, or much of what happened.

“Here you go,” I told Cam, handing him the jeans. “These will be perfect.” I’d found a pale blue cashmere sweater too and told him, “Try this for size. I can get any color, really.”

“Before I forget, I need a pair of lug-sole shoes to walk around the lodge in.” He ran a hand through his brown hair, a large Rolex catching the light.

It only made me think of Mack and his beautiful face and damaged heart. Shaking the thought away, I told Cam I had just the pair and went off to grab them.

He loved them, took the brown ones and had me order black with the rest of the items I was ordering.

“I’ll be back from Italy mid-September, and then we’ll get it all set to ship.”

---