It sounded like an average working day to Abby.
“You’ll join as a member of staff,” the boss was saying. “Miranda will make the arrangements. Let the acting GM know we’re sending someone experienced to help her out in whichever area of the hotel she feels is the priority. You’ll be flexible, helpful and most of all observant. You’ll send me regular reports and we’ll speak weekly.”
Miranda looked thrown. “You want me to—what exactly? Create a fake identity? Is that even legal?”
“I’m leaving the details to you. I’m confident that you’ll find a solution.”
The usually unflappable and competent Miranda didn’t seem to share that confidence, but she nodded. “I’ll get right on it.”
Under-cover?
Abby didn’t like the idea any more than Miranda, but sheknew her feelings on the subject were irrelevant. Her mother had made up her mind, and nothing anyone said would shift it. Also, there was logic behind the proposal. If they knew who she was, she wouldn’t get a true picture although why that picture was needed she had no idea.
Either way, she would be spending her summer in Cornwall. Incognito.
And she had to admit the idea had some appeal. It would be blissful to escape from the office for a couple of months and to not have people judging her before she even walked into a room.
The more she thought about it, the more she saw possibilities.
This would be a chance to reinvent herself. If she was “under-cover,” she wouldn’t be “the boss’s daughter.” She wouldn’t have to watch her back the whole time. And hopefully the acting general manager would be relieved to have support, and not resentful.
And yes, she was uncomfortable with the idea of not being honest about her true role in the company but if she was careful there was no reason, no reason at all, why anyone should find out who she really was.
3
Alexandra
Later that evening in her townhouse in historic Beacon Hill, Alexandra poured herself a glass of wine. A few drops fell onto the marble counter-top and she mopped them up, relieved no one was there to witness her hand shaking. She knew how people saw her. As a robot. Someone with no emotions. Someone who felt nothing.
They’d be shocked if they could see her now.
She picked up the glass and walked through the open French doors to the pretty garden courtyard that was both a suntrap and a haven.
Climbing hydrangea clung to the walls, peonies added a splash of colour to the borders and the soothing sound of bubbling water from the fountain created a serene, tranquil space.
It was her sanctuary. One of the few places she could truly relax. A place she found comfort, and she’d never needed that comfort as much as she did this evening.
She was still wearing the tailored skirt she’d chosen for the meeting along with the ivory silk shirt, but she’d undone a few of the buttons and her feet were bare.
Beyond her garden lay the charms of Beacon Hill with its tree-lined cobblestone streets and charming boutique stores, but here behind these walls she had privacy and right now she was glad of it because the meeting had unsettled her more than she’d imagined possible.
Who would have thought her emotions would be this churned up over something that happened years ago?
She’d blocked it all out. Put it behind her. Left it in her past. But now all those feelings were back, as fresh and real as the day she’d left Cornwall for Boston and a new life.
She was angry, of course. Furious. But behind that heated burn of emotion lay something else. Something insidious and unwanted. Doubt? Regret?
She held on to the anger because anger was easier to deal with than the other more complicated emotions that swirled inside her.
In her head she’d divided her life into two parts—before and after.
No one knew all the details of her “before.” Not even her own daughter. From the moment she’d discovered she was pregnant all those years ago, she’d been determined that her daughter’s life wouldn’t be like hers. Alexandra’s entire mission had been to protect her from it and that was going to continue. She would not allow the past to intrude on the present.
She breathed and ran her hand over the back of her neck.
It was fine. Everything was fine. The people in that meeting would have had no insight into her true thoughts and feelings. She hid herself behind silk and success. They thought she was ruthless and ambitious, and they weren’t wrong. But it wasn’tambition or the promise of success that had brought her to Boston. It was cowardice.
She’d been running away.
