your mind once we talked.”
But she didn’t change her mind. She remained as distrustful of Augusta as she had been before. She did spend more time with her but not nearly as much as she could have. She was too busy with the hotel to spend hour after idle hour, as Dallas and Augusta did, reliving old times and looking forward to a bright new future. Susanna’s future looked anything but bright to her. She had a failing hotel on her hands, a partner she didn’t want, and she was twenty-four years old with no prospect of ever having a family of her own.
She was tired of working hard and constantly worrying about the fate of the Sea Star. She wished Jay Grainger would come back to Atlantic City and put an end to this endless waiting once and for all. She had to know what the future held in store for her. This unsettling state of uncertainty was driving her mad.
She got her wish the second week in September. On a spectacularly beautiful Monday afternoon, a day drowsy with heat yet undeniably portending autumn, Jay Grainger walked into Susanna’s office as she was straightening out accounts. She didn’t hear him knock or open the door. She was so deeply immersed in her work, so worried about which one of her many creditors was the most pressing, that it wasn’t until a shadow fell across her desk that she was aware someone had entered the room.
When she looked up, the sunlight from the window momentarily blurred her vision, casting an aureole of radiance about the visitor’s dark form. As her eyes became accustomed to the light and she saw who it was, her heart began pounding and she was reminded of a Rembrandt portrait of a nobleman she had once seen. The same counterpoint of light and dark had blazed from the canvas, a contrast so startling yet so exquisitely rendered, it conveyed an almost mystical vision of unity and beauty.
Jay had brought into the room with him that pleasurable scent of sea and sun and open air. He was wearing dark blue, which intensified the color of his eyes, and his white linen shirt shone against the strong sun-browned contours of his face. Although Susanna had thought of him often in the past few weeks, she had forgotten how heart-stoppingly attractive he was, how the laugh lines about his eyes gave vitality and warmth to the stern contradiction of his hard handsome mouth. She stared at him in silence. He gave her a smile—which only increased the rapid beating of her heart.
“Mr. Grainger.” Her mouth was bone dry. She found it difficult to speak. “What brings you to Atlantic City ?”
He didn’t answer her question. He only watched her with that smile, as if the sight of her gave him immense pleasure.
“Forgive me for disturbing you,” he finally said. “I didn’t know you were working.”
Susanna quickly closed the journal when she saw his eyes scan the debit columns. “I can finish doing this later,” she said, regaining her composure. “What can I do for you, Mr. Grainger?”
“Well, Miss Sterling.... May I sit down?” And when she nodded, he took a seat at the side of the desk and said, “It’s more a matter of what I can do for you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked warily.
“Construction has begun on my new hotel here,” he explained, comfortably crossing his legs, “and I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone by spending some time in Atlantic City . This way I can supervise construction on the hotel, and I can also assist you in alleviating the Sea Star’s present difficulties.”
“I don’t need any assistance.” Her sweet mouth was mutinous.
“I think you do.”
“I don’t care what you think, Mr. Grainger.”
He sighed and uncrossed his legs. “Miss Sterling, I know you’re unhappy with our present arrangement. If it will make you feel any better, I want
But she didn’t change her mind. She remained as distrustful of Augusta as she had been before. She did spend more time with her but not nearly as much as she could have. She was too busy with the hotel to spend hour after idle hour, as Dallas and Augusta did, reliving old times and looking forward to a bright new future. Susanna’s future looked anything but bright to her. She had a failing hotel on her hands, a partner she didn’t want, and she was twenty-four years old with no prospect of ever having a family of her own.
She was tired of working hard and constantly worrying about the fate of the Sea Star. She wished Jay Grainger would come back to Atlantic City and put an end to this endless waiting once and for all. She had to know what the future held in store for her. This unsettling state of uncertainty was driving her mad.
She got her wish the second week in September. On a spectacularly beautiful Monday afternoon, a day drowsy with heat yet undeniably portending autumn, Jay Grainger walked into Susanna’s office as she was straightening out accounts. She didn’t hear him knock or open the door. She was so deeply immersed in her work, so worried about which one of her many creditors was the most pressing, that it wasn’t until a shadow fell across her desk that she was aware someone had entered the room.
When she looked up, the sunlight from the window momentarily blurred her vision, casting an aureole of radiance about the visitor’s dark form. As her eyes became accustomed to the light and she saw who it was, her heart began pounding and she was reminded of a Rembrandt portrait of a nobleman she had once seen. The same counterpoint of light and dark had blazed from the canvas, a contrast so startling yet so exquisitely rendered, it conveyed an almost mystical vision of unity and beauty.
Jay had brought into the room with him that pleasurable scent of sea and sun and open air. He was wearing dark blue, which intensified the color of his eyes, and his white linen shirt shone against the strong sun-browned contours of his face. Although Susanna had thought of him often in the past few weeks, she had forgotten how heart-stoppingly attractive he was, how the laugh lines about his eyes gave vitality and warmth to the stern contradiction of his hard handsome mouth. She stared at him in silence. He gave her a smile—which only increased the rapid beating of her heart.
“Mr. Grainger.” Her mouth was bone dry. She found it difficult to speak. “What brings you to Atlantic City ?”
He didn’t answer her question. He only watched her with that smile, as if the sight of her gave him immense pleasure.
“Forgive me for disturbing you,” he finally said. “I didn’t know you were working.”
Susanna quickly closed the journal when she saw his eyes scan the debit columns. “I can finish doing this later,” she said, regaining her composure. “What can I do for you, Mr. Grainger?”
“Well, Miss Sterling.... May I sit down?” And when she nodded, he took a seat at the side of the desk and said, “It’s more a matter of what I can do for you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked warily.
“Construction has begun on my new hotel here,” he explained, comfortably crossing his legs, “and I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone by spending some time in Atlantic City . This way I can supervise construction on the hotel, and I can also assist you in alleviating the Sea Star’s present difficulties.”
“I don’t need any assistance.” Her sweet mouth was mutinous.
“I think you do.”
“I don’t care what you think, Mr. Grainger.”
He sighed and uncrossed his legs. “Miss Sterling, I know you’re unhappy with our present arrangement. If it will make you feel any better, I want
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