Page 11 of Between Love and Honor

Instead, he was a computer analyst for the Secret Service. Not even a gun-toting agent. Well respected, but a bit tame for the boy who’d once dreamed of being the next Bill Gates.

Her feelings were jumbled about being back in the quaint bayside town after all this time. Not much had changed, a fact for which she was glad. Watertown was always her safe haven even if only in her mind. The past years spent shifting from identity to identity had gone from exhilarating to isolating. The oddity of her existence becoming more pronounced the longer she remained in the game. During those dark times, her mind often drifted back to the folksy town where she would fantasize about what might have been. The memory of the water and the slower pace always calmed her down.

“Everything okay with your salad?” the waitress asked.

“It’s wonderful,” Quinn lied. Her thoughts were so consumed with the past, she’d yet to take a bite. She stabbed some crab with her fork.

The waitress laughed. “Ben has that effect on women. Just a word of warning though, he’s a confirmed bachelor. He frequently entertains”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“women aboard his boat. But no one has been able to get a commitment out of him. Rumor has it he’s still nursing a broken heart from the one that got away.”

The other woman’s words had Quinn nearly choking on her lunch. She reached for her water glass and gulped down its contents despite her throat constricting with something feeling a lot like guilt. No doubt he’d been hurt when she didn’t show up for their senior prom. Especially after what they’d shared. But the knowledge that yet another woman had damaged his heart made her own ache.

If she couldn’t have a happily ever after of her own, she wanted sweet, honorable Ben to have one.

Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to do something she rarely permitted, to drift back thirteen years. She kept the memories of her days spent exploring the bay aboard Ben’s Sunfish sailboat buried deep. They always painfully reminded her of what might have been. She and her parents lived in Watertown for only a brief period. But they were the best ten months of Quinn’s then teenage life.

Popular and pretty, she was quickly accepted among the historic town’s elite—the entitled kids whose parents held well connected appointments and jobs in DC, commuting out to the trendy little hamlet on the Chesapeake Bay.

Ben hadn’t been a part of her circle of popular, wealthy friends. He was a townie whose family didn’t belong to the nearby Annapolis Yacht Club. Instead, he was the president of the robotics club, a star of the cross-country team, and class valedictorian.

They’d been assigned as lab partners in AP chemistry.

Quinn had no business taking the class, but her mother had a bad case of “keeping up with the Joneses” despite her only child’s less than stellar science capabilities. Appearances mattered to Quinn’s parents. Particularly in the role they were playing in Watertown. And if the other kids were taking advanced classes, so too would their daughter.

Ben realized Quinn was a fish out of water that first day. But he’d never patronized or embarrassed her. Instead, he quietly encouraged her as he easily carried them both through the rigorous coursework. Before long, she was relying on the boy with the quicksilver grin and soulful eyes to help her with calculus. He was relaxed and easy to be around. She found she preferred his company over the handsy boys with fat wallets and fast cars.

With Ben, she could relax and be herself.

At least the self she wanted to be. A typical teenage girl with an adoring boyfriend. She’d gotten so caught up in the make believe of the role she was playing, she’d agreed to go to the prom with him despite the fact she knew her time in the small town was drawing to an end. She told herself it was because she wanted to create a lasting memory of a normal childhood that she could carry with her for the rest of her life. But the truth was she’d fallen for the studious townie. And she wanted everyone in Watertown to know it, even if it was for only one night.

Unfortunately, her mother’s handlers had other plans.

Circumstances required a hasty retreat out of the country.

She never got a chance to wear the beautiful gown she’d picked out. Even worse, she never got the chance to say goodbye to Ben. Nursing a broken heart she blamed her mother for causing, she stepped into her mother’s shoes with a zeal unrivaled by any other operative within the service. Ironically, she’d learned a valuable lesson while here in Watertown. Never let anyone close enough to know the real Quinn. There would only be heartache if she did. It was a lesson that helped her survive life in the game.

“Care for anything else?” The waitress was back interrupting Quinn’s rehashing of her greatest mistake. “We’ve got a chocolate cake that is bound to be just as satisfying as the view.” The woman winked conspiratorially.

As much as she would prefer to indulge in the healing powers of chocolate, she had a job to do. And if she hurried, she just might be able to retrieve the micro card with Ben being none the wiser.

“Just a check,” she murmured, keeping her gaze trained on Ben.

He climbed onto the dock and was headed into town.

“Sure.” The waitress handed her the handwritten tab.

“Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Quinn left several bills on the table, securing them with the tin of Old Bay so the bills didn’t become a casualty to the afternoon breeze. She made her way into the air-conditioned storefront of the marina, recognizing that not everything in Watertown had remained the same. What once had been a bait and tackle shop was now a gourmet takeout restaurant selling everything from worms to wine.

There was an impressive deli counter with an array of ready-made foods for boaters and fishermen alike. Even with the changes, the family-owned shop still reverberated with the hominess she’d always loved when she and Ben studied together here.

Forcing herself to focus on her task, she hurried out onto the dock and made her way to Ben’s sailboat. She glanced into the reflection of the chrome railings on the bow of a speedboat to make sure no one was watching from the restaurant deck behind her. The deck was blessedly empty. Quinn lengthened her stride toward Ben’s boat. She was just about to climb aboard when the name painted on its side stopped her in her tracks.

Seas the Day.

The moniker was an homage to their carefree spring break senior year when they’d dreamt up a future together.

A future that included a sail around the world aboard a boat with a name they’d come up with while huddled around a campfire— Seas the Day. She’d been playing a dangerous game then, spinning a fantasy of a life she could never have. Not with her family background. Ben had nurtured a lot more faith in their future, apparently. The ever-present shame that had been clinging to her for years suddenly made her eyes sting and her mouth dry. He’d never know how she wished all their dreams could have come true.

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