Page 3 of Homecoming Heartbreaker

“Maybe Mack will be too busy with his own work to get involved,” Autumn suggested.

Hope flared in her chest. “Maybe. Maybe the brothers just told Jameson they’d stick around to get him to take it easy. You know how implacable he can be.”

Molly tipped her head up to stare at the decorative ceiling in her office, trying to make sense of her mixed emotions. She was worried about Jameson, feeling nervous to be meeting Mack again after a fifteen-year absence, irritated that she wouldn’t have free rein to manage Moonlight Ridge her way and terrified that Jameson’s long-absent son would come in and tip over her carefully arranged apple cart.

“Am I allowed to still be angry that Mack dumped me?” Molly asked Autumn because, yeah, she was.

Autumn frowned. “Molly, it’s been a long time. You were kids. Ninety percent of teenage relationships end.”

Sure, but Mack had been so much more than a teenage fling. Before he’d become her boyfriend and her first lover, he’d been her best friend. Her refuge, theoneperson, besides Jameson, who had her back.

His leaving, without a word or explanation, eviscerated her. The months following his departure had been the loneliest of her life and contributed to her making the worst decision of her seventeen or so years, a mistake that still haunted her today.

“Talk to me, Mol,” Autumn said.

What could she say? Autumn knew that Molly’s father was Jameson’s treacherous CFO. She knew Molly’s history with Mack. How Molly and her family were forced to leave Moonlight Ridge when she was thirteen but how this place held everything and everyone she cared about.

But Autumn did not know about hercrime.

“Mack and I working together is going to be awkward, uncomfortable. Mack has been home to visit Jameson before but, despite me living and working on the property, he’s never sought me out to apologize for dropping out of my life, for not replying to the million text and email messages I sent him, the frantic voice mails I left on his phone.”

Molly would never forgive him for treating her like she was disposable, like she was an object that he’d used and no longer valued.

She had her family for that.

There was something to be said for growing up. These days she was confident, assured, assertive and ambitious. She straightened her shoulders. “But I can handle Mack Holloway.”

“Good. How?” Autumn asked.

He’d be expecting an attitude, Molly realized. He’d be prepared for a tirade. As a child and teenager, she’d expressed every thought, wore her heart on her sleeve, and Mack would expect her be as she was before.

Molly refused to be predictable. “I’m going to treat him as if he were any other employee, any other boss,” Molly told her friend. “I’m going to be polite, friendly but distant and, above all, professional.”

Autumn’s arched eyebrows lifted. “And you think you can do that?” she asked, sounding doubtful.

Sure she could. She hoped. Trying to look, and sound, confident, Molly nodded. “It’ll be a piece of cake.”

Autumn patted her shoulder. “Well, you’re about to find out, sweetie, because there’s a car coming down the driveway.”

Go time.

Molly returned Autumn’s hug, sucked in a deep breath, left her office and headed for the tight, small and prosaic servants’ staircase. The old, sprawling mansion—with two large wings added to house many guests—sported a massive, imposing staircase, but the staff needed to be discreet and that meant flying up and down the narrow staircase at the back of the house.

Molly used one of the many secret passageways—in the 1930s the original owners ran a speakeasy for their wealthy friends and used the secret tunnels to stash their illicit booze—and slipped into the imposing hallway/lobby via a discreet door. Waving to Harry, who manned the front desk, she walked through the hall dominated by the magnificent staircase and stopped to shove a tulip back into a bountiful arrangement of fresh flowers.

Moonlight Ridge was Jameson’s, but, emotionally, it was hers, too. She came back to work for Jameson after college because she’d felt so damn guilty—she still did—but these days there was no place she’d rather be than within the walls of this thick building, with its antiques and silver, art and antiquities. She loved the luxurious rooms, the ivy covering parts of the building, the extensive, lush grounds and the gorgeous lake that was a centerpiece on the property.

Molly stepped outside and watched as the matte-black, low-slung sports car made its way up the long, tree-lined driveway. Molly scowled at the wide-shouldered shadow behind the wheel.

Mack was back...

She gulped.

She’d moved on; shehad. She hadn’t spent the past fifteen years pining, for God’s sake! There had been other men, not many, but she’d dated. But no one managed to capture her heart. To be fair, she hadn’t allowed her heart to be captured. She was perfectly content to be single.

Besides, she’d rather avoid the drama men brought to her life, thank you very much.

Mack pulled to a stop and cut the growly engine to his car. Molly sucked in a deep breath and put her hands behind her back, her fingers tightly interlocked. She hoped she was portraying her polite, friendly “Welcome to Moonlight Ridge” face but she couldn’t be sure.

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