finally sat down with Amanda to talk, knowing her sister wouldn’t rest until she eradicated her guilty conscience. Given Amanda’s red eyes and pale complexion, she had a feeling her sister had been up crying all night again. Besides, Emma couldn’t help but be curious about the circumstances between her sister and Colin.
“So your feelings have been growing stronger ever since the two of you have been spending so much time together?” Emma asked after listening to Amanda’s emotional confessions over morning tea.
“We have a lot in common. You know I’m interested in forensic medicine, and he’s learning so many amazing things in his new job. Plus, we’re so comfortable together.”
“And that’s what you want? Comfortable?” Emma asked dubiously.
“Well yeah. Who doesn’t?” Amanda said, as if it were obvious. “But I never planned to act on the feelings I was getting for him, Emma. Please believe me. I never will again, if you say the word, despite the way I feel about him. The other night, it just . . . happened. You’ll never know how terrible I felt, seeing you standing there, imagining what you were thinking of me.” Emma had the rather random, uncharitable thought that Amanda looked absolutely gorgeous even with her face all red and splotchy and her long hair pulled back in a haphazard bun.
Emma sighed. “If you really like Colin, you shouldn’t just give up on the whole thing because of me. It’s like I told you yesterday, you’ll always be my sister.”
“But . . . but what about you and Colin?” Amanda asked in a quavering voice.
“It’s over. It’s like I said last night. We were comfortable together. There was no real romance. What happened last night just brought all that to the forefront. What are you going to do in regard to him?”
“I don’t know. I’m so confused.”
“Yeah? Join the club,” Emma said under her breath.
“I’ll be starting school in the fall. You know how hard the program is going to be. I don’t have time for a relationship.”
“This is one decision I can’t help you with. You’ll have to decide on your own. But don’t not be with Colin because you’re worried I’m still in love with him. I’m not,” Emma said with finality, pushing back her chair.
“Do you think you can ever forgive me?” Amanda asked shakily.
Unbidden, a vision of her mother popped into her mind’s eye, her face sad. Worried.
God, Mom would hate this.
“I’m going to work on it,” Emma said honestly, briskly drying an errant tear with her thumb. “I’m going to try for Mom and for us. You’re too important to me not to try. But forgiveness is a process, not a snap decision. Don’t push it, Amanda.”
Later, after Amanda had gone to wash up, Emma sat at the kitchen table with her computer in front of her, mindlessly checking e-mails and reading some articles on the Internet, trying to relax a little on her day off.
A few minutes later, she squinted at the computer screen, reading intently, certain phrases popping out at her more than others.
Automobiles Montand, French car company based in Antibes, France, that manufactures some of the most sought-after luxury sports cars and racecars in the world . . .
. . . Michael Montand (Sr.), French, founded the company in 1959 . . .
. . . Michael Montand (Jr.), American, sole owner and current chief executive officer of Automobiles Montand in addition to being founder and chief executive officer of Montand Motorworks, located in Deerfield, Illinois . . . exclusive maker of engines, intake manifolds, and carburetors for luxury sports cars and racecars . . . founder and backer of the world-class, experimental road race, The Montand French-American Grand Prix, to be held on the French Riviera . . .
She clicked on a link and a recent Chicago Tribune article popped up on the screen. Her gaze immediately stuck on the image of Montand at a podium, two gleaming stock cars on display behind him. He looked sober and compelling in a tuxedo, his hands braced on the podium, his posture suggesting the intensity and focus she’d come to expect from him.
Montand Motorworks Brings American Racing to the Côte d’Azur, the headline read.
She checked the date of the article. It was July 17, the date when he’d called her to him in the Breakers dining room, she realized, recognizing the tux in the photo. This was the publicity event he’d described, the one with the “vampires,” as he’d called them. If he disliked high-profile events such as the premiere road-racing grand prix he’d organized on the French Riviera, he must be uncomfortable a lot of the time.
“Emma?”
Emma started, glancing around when Amanda said her name. She hadn’t really been aware of her intention to Google Montand’s name.
“Yeah?” she asked Amanda, shutting her computer lid guiltily, which was stupid. It was only natural that she was curious about him, after all. It wasn’t every day she was set on fire by a gorgeous, aloof, cynical billionaire who kissed her like he thought she was his last meal on earth, and then rejected her like he’d realized she was poison.
“You’re not going to believe who’s here,” Amanda said in a hushed tone, looking stunned.
Emma’s heart lurched. Surely it wasn’t—
“Toby Martin,” Amanda whispered, glancing pointedly over her shoulder.