Page 143 of Unexpected Entanglement

“Go. You can do this,” Alex said. Her voice was gentle. “You’re just there to talk. That’s all. You got nothing to lose.”

“Right.” Rowan nodded as she drove the car slowly up the long driveway.

It wasn’t unlike driving into Bright Head, Rowan reasoned. Except this driveway was made of uniform gray cobble stones laid down intricately by hand. The trees and flowering shrubs growing alongside it must’ve been meticulously designed and manicured.

Then there was the house. It was like Bright Head’s main house, but this eggshell blue-gray house somehow stood grander. It wasn’t just beautiful, but also elegant. And it screamed money.

Holy shit.

Alex must’ve seen Rowan’s jaw fell to the floor of the car. “Rowan, Chris is still the same Chris you knew last week. Just because his house is bigger than yours doesn’t mean he’s any better than you or me.”

“I know that.” Rowan nodded to psych herself up as she put the car into park in one of the designated parking spots not too far from the front door.

“You got this, girl,” Alex said. “Remember, you are a woman who knows what she wants. You are a woman on a mission. You might not be fearless, but you are not a coward. You go for what you want despite the fear.”

“Right.” Rowan was thankful for her friend’s coaching. She would never let herself forget that again. “I’m going in.”

“Atta girl. Knock him dead,” Alex said with a grin, and hung up.

Rowan quickly stepped out of the car, straightened her dress, and walked to the front door. She released a controlled exhale and was about to press the bell when the door opened.

An older woman with neat shoulder-length hair smiled at her. “Rowan?”

“Yes.”

“Please, come in,” the woman moved aside and let Rowan walk into the foyer.

The house immediately opened up to a large sitting room. Rowan would kill to have the beautiful, classic furniture decorating the space. But on second thought, she’d probably freak out whenever a guest’s child sat on it with a crayon or a drink. No, comfortable and sturdy were more Maine.

“I’m Rosemary. I’ll take you to Mr. Sullens,” the woman introduced herself. Rowan remembered her from Chris’ story about his childhood. She looked and sounded as kind as he’d described her. That eased Rowan’s nerve a bit.

Rosemary led Rowan to the left side of the house, through a gorgeous kitchen, out a glass door to a patio that led to a beautiful swimming pool.

Rowan braced herself to see Chris again. But it wasn’t Chris who stood up from a chair under an umbrella. It was an older version of Chris, with dark streaks in his gray hair. A pair of shades covered his eyes.

“Miss Kelly?” The man approached her.

Rowan shook his hand and went through the pleasantries in auto mode.

“I’m Chris’ father. My son told me about you.” He gestured to another chair where he was sitting, facing the ocean view.

Rowan sat down and accepted the cold limeade Rosemary offered her. “I’m afraid to ask about what he said.”

Rowan looked at the older man studying her. Though dressed in a beach leisure outfit, George Sullens looked as intimidating as she’d imagined a business conglomerate would be. He still looked tall and large for someone in his mid-sixties. His direct gaze—even through the shades—could make anyone squirm in their seat.

“Did you come straight from Vinalhaven?” Rosemary asked and lightened the atmosphere. “I hope the drive wasn’t too bad.”

“It was fine.” Rowan smiled at the matronly lady.

“I heard you inherited an old inn on Vinalhaven,” George stated.

Rowan turned her gaze to Chris’ father. Though his expression looked benign, she heard a patronizing tone, which made her shoulders tense up.

“My family has owned and operated Bright Head Farm & Inn for more than a century,” Rowan started. “It has an old reputation, but we have fully renovated and updated it.”

“That must’ve taken a lot of investment,” George commented.

“It did.” Rowan turned to Rosemary. “I’m sorry. Where is Chris? I need to talk to him.”

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