The Boss's Fake Fiancee by Inara Scott Page B

of time here when you were a kid?”
    “Mostly over the summers.”
    “With Nan?”
    “With my parents first, and then with Nan.”
    Nice one, nosy.
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
    “It’s okay.” He paused. “My great-grandfather, Nan’s dad, bought Seesaw as a vacation getaway for the family. Nan spent her summers here as a kid, and she brought my mom out every year as well. When I was born, my parents figured they’d continue the tradition. The summer I turned five, they decided to try leaving me with Nan so they could take a vacation. They died in a car accident on the way to the airport.”
    “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Melissa sat in silence, unable to even begin to fathom how it must have felt for Garth and Nan to face that kind of loss. “Do you think about them when you come back here?”
    He shook his head. “No. I’ve had a lot of time to build new memories of this place. You see, Grandpa Arthur, Nan’s husband, was a doctor and he worked long hours. Nan never really liked the city, so whenever I was out of school she and I came here. She had more of a community in Essex than she did in New York.”
    “Did she ever think about living here full time?”
    “She and Arthur were planning to live here after he retired, but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to stop working. He died of a heart attack a few years ago, and with Nan’s health failing, I convinced her to move to Scarsdale so I could keep an eye on her.”
    “When’s the last time you were back?”
    “It’s been a while. She can’t travel on her own, and I’ve been too busy to bring her.”
    “I see.” Melissa’s heart tugged in her chest. “No wonder she wanted us to come out.”
    Garth nodded, his gaze pinned on the road.
    Funny, all the things a house could mean. Melissa thought about her attachment to her family home in Queens, and then how her apartment in New York, though small and noisy, had been so important for her rebuilding her sense of independence. She pictured five-year-old Garth, trying to make sense of a world without his parents, clinging to the comfort of a place he knew and loved at the same time he’d lost the most important things in his world.
    And now, of course, he’d have to make peace with coming here without Nan.
    The realization hit her abruptly: Garth must be preparing, on some level, to say good-bye to Nan, and he’d tangled Seesaw up in his feelings about her. That had to be why he’d avoided coming out. She knew better than anyone that his work was mobile. If he’d really wanted to come to Seesaw, he could have done so at any time.
    Maybe he’d been avoiding the trip because of his memory of losing his parents, or maybe he didn’t want to face the fact that he’d have to start coming up here alone. Either way, visiting Seesaw was probably the last thing he wanted to do with Nan back at home, obviously struggling.
    Melissa peeked at Garth, but his usual mask was in place as he stared at the road. She wanted to touch him, but didn’t. Instead, she watched the road, and the way his fingers tightened on the steering wheel.
    He cleared his throat. “I was planning to come out anyway and check on things.”
    “Sure.” She leaned forward to adjust the radio. “Sure you were.”
    …
    They drove into Essex Village around noon. Melissa felt a little of Garth’s somber mood lift as they passed through the town center. Tightly packed, quaint old buildings of white wood and brick, with signs proclaiming their ages—1776, 1779—conspired along with the crisp fall air and faint smell of cider and cinnamon to create a picture that was almost surreal in its old New England charm.
    Garth stopped so they could get a good view of the marina, with its combination of expensive yachts and fishing boats, and the Connecticut River, with sheltered coves to the north and south. They stopped at a bakery for coffee, and then bought fresh bread and apple butter. Garth took them to a tiny bookstore, where