Free Once and Again by Elisabeth Barrett Page A

have put up the club for sale.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I get it. You thought you were selling Briarwood to one guy and you got another. Me. Deal with it. Your legal shit and emergency Board meetings aren’t going to stop the renovations now or in the future. And they’re not going to change the fact that I own this place, lock, stock, and barrel.”
    “Watch yourself,” Vernon said, his voice a sharp threat. “Or you just might wake up one day to find Briarwood’s not yours anymore.”
    Confirmation that Vernon and his crew were still trying to undo the sale. “I’d say ‘game on,’ but we both know it’s been brewing since you discovered who I really was.” Over Vern’s shoulder, Jake saw three men with golf bags approaching—Kurt Fredericks, Ruddy Reynolds, and Gerry Chaffee—Vernon’s close friends, who also happened to be members of the Board. “The rest of your foursome’s here. Enjoy your last round.”
    And with that, he turned and walked away, feeling Vern’s gaze through his T-shirt, right down to the bottom of his stomach, where it just sat there like a fiery rock, burning his gut. Half hoping Vern was watching, he spat right in the grass and kept on walking…until he saw Carolyn, who was coming across the great lawn with a packet of papers in her hand.
    Not her. Not now.
    But instead of the wary, shocked look he’d begun to expect every time she saw him, her expression was filled with determination, and then, as she got closer, with concern. She came right up to him and searched his face.
    “Is everything all right? You left so suddenly before.”
    “I’m fine,” he growled. The men were still watching him, their stares searing his back like laser beams.
    “Well, you don’t look all right. Your face is all red and—” She stopped, frowned, and peered around his body. “Oh.” The corners of her mouth went down more.
    “Let it go,” he forced out through gritted teeth.
    Quickly, she composed her face into a neutral expression. “Of course. I was going to stop by your office later to follow up, but I wanted to make sure all your questions about the event were answered. I’d be happy to talk everything over with you now, if you have a few free minutes.”
    “I haven’t had time to think about it.”
    “No matter. There are a few clarifying issues I want to discuss. Here,” she said, handing him the packet. “This is a printout of the PowerPoint I prepared. I thought it might be nice to have a hard copy for review. Moreover, we can talk about the cost in detail rather than in generalities now that we have the exact numbers in front of us.”
    He saw what she was doing. Defusing a tense situation with grace. For once, he was grateful for her subtlety.
    “I don’t have any questions,” he said, “but I could use a cup of coffee.”
    “I can help with that,” she said, her face brightening. “And perhaps you’d like a scone to go with it?”
    “Sure. Whatever.”
    “Susumo makes excellent English scones for afternoon tea,” she said, gently taking his elbow and leading him across the lawn. Surprised at her assertiveness, he let himself be led. “Our Briarwood High Tea is a best-seller, and many parties actually request it for their events.”
    Jake half-listened while she chattered on about lemon curd and clotted cream, and slowly collected himself. He treated her like shit and she responded with kindness. He knew that she knew exactly what was going on with him and the Board, and she’d made clear where her loyalties lay—with him. But why? Was this her way of saying
he
was something worth protecting?
    They were in the back hallway now, right near the kitchen.
    “Hang on,” she told him, before disappearing through the double doors. She was back in a flash, a triumphant look on her face. “Here,” she said, handing him a dense pastry. “Orange-cranberry. They’re very good. We can grab some coffee in the staff lounge.”
    And now she was