Page 53 of The Havenport Collection

“I am so proud of you for standing up for yourself!” Emily yelled over the sounds of screaming and a dog barking in the background. The four walls of her house could barely contain the chaos most days. “So they want to prevent you from suing them?”

“Bingo. They are trying to cover their asses. The good news is, I didn’t screw up the merger, and they will know that once the investigation begins.

The bad news is that Max Shapiro badmouthed me and ruined my reputation after I repeatedly rejected his sexual advances, and I don’t know if I’m ever going to recover from that. ”

“Astrid. What happened?”

As if the rage and heartburn weren’t bad enough, a runaway tidal wave of shame crashed over me. I didn’t want to talk about this. I didn't want to relive it all. But Emily was family, and I hadn't been able to confide in anyone about this.

“He came on to me several times, and I politely said no. The intensity increased and I remained professional and pleasant, just as I was taught to.” That wasn't the whole story but it was all I could manage right now.

He was a creepy, persistent asshole who terrorized me with texts, emails, and comments for months.

Eventually it stopped, and I assumed that he got the message and things would go back to normal.

“I thought that was the end of it. But he was sabotaging me behind the scenes for months before I caught on. Blaming this mistake on me was just one of the many things he did to undermine my position at the firm.”

“That motherfucker. That's retaliation.”

“I know.”

“So what are you going to do? We could burn his house down. I’ve always been up for a little light arson.”

I made a mental note to check in with Emily’s husband about her firebug tendencies at a later date.

“No, Em. I need to trust the process. Without a recommendation, I won’t get a job at another firm.

So I need to wait for them to complete the investigation.

Once they realize I didn’t do this and he unfairly blamed me, I’ll be able to leverage that for a recommendation for my next job. ”

“But what if they don’t? Shouldn't you sue them or something?” I wasn’t ready to confront that reality.

That everything I had spent my life working for was over.

And while suing them for sexual harassment and retaliation seemed an attractive option, it would kill any chances I had of getting a position at a rival firm.

Law firms may pretend to be bastions of equality, but there was nothing people hated more than a squeaky wheel. Especially when that wheel was a woman.

“I don't know what I’m going to do yet. But right now I’m going to enjoy my break and figure out my next steps.”

“Let me know what I can do to help!”

I laughed. “I’m fine, really. Just need some time and space to think. Actually,” I said, feeling super awkward, “what I need is a date.”

“A date?”

“For this legal gala. I am receiving an award for some pro bono work I did. And, I could skip it…”

“Stop right there. You are not skipping this. You worked your ass off, and you are not going to go run and hide after being fired. You are going to attend and show everyone there what a stone-cold badass Astrid Wentworth is. Got it?”

I smiled. Emily was fiercely loyal, and right now, I needed all the loyalty I could get.

“Yes. But I don't want to go alone.”

“We can take care of that, Astrid. You are gorgeous, and there are loads of single men out there who would happily squire you to your fancy event.” I doubted that very much.

I had never had much luck in the dating department.

“In fact,” she continued, “you should join some dating apps. Use this time in Havenport to go on some dates, meet some guys, have some fun!”

I shuddered. Dating apps were my idea of hell. But she was right about one thing—I certainly had the time on my hands to actually meet some people.

“Ok. I’ll join one app and see how it goes.”

“Sounds like a plan. Oh shit. Jacob is trying to slice his own strawberries again. I gotta run.”

Since I couldn’t possibly stay in my apartment next door to my office after being fired, I had packed a few bags, called an Uber, and gotten the hell out of the city.

What do people do when they are not working?

I have slept, gone for a million walks, listened to a few podcasts, and flipped through some of the hundreds of romance novels piled high in the built-in bookcases.

Despite living less than an hour away, it had been years since I had come up here to visit.

I forgot how charming this place was. I had only been here a few days, and I could begrudgingly admit that I was already feeling more relaxed.

The cottage was outside of the downtown area, but nothing a good brisk walk or an Uber couldn’t fix.

And walking! Turns out I loved walking. It may sound strange, but for years, I just walked from the lobby of my apartment building across a tiny side street to the lobby of my office building.

I rented an overpriced studio at the Greenside, a luxury apartment building for Boston’s trendy professionals, because it was located directly next to the office tower where Burns & Glenn had its Boston office.

I overpaid for the convenience of having a two-minute commute.

It made sense at the time. Time spent commuting was time I couldn’t be billing.

And billing was the most important and most valuable use of my time.

Sleeping? Exercising? Socializing with friends?

Nope, my billable time was worth nine hundred dollars an hour, so nothing was worth that much.

I spent very little time at the apartment, using it mainly for showering and sleeping.

I certainly had never cooked a meal there or even watched a movie, as far as I could remember.

Every minute was spent in pursuit of billing more hours, accomplishing more for my clients, and impressing the partners at the firm. Nothing else mattered.

And so there was no time for walks. Or fresh air or exercise.

Coming here and just walking had been a revelation.

I had been listening to podcasts, reading books, and getting to know the area.

I had just signed up for Netflix and was excited to catch up on all the movies and television people had been gushing about for the past decade.

I didn’t even own a TV. Now I had all the time in the world to kick back in front of the cottage’s modest-sized flatscreen.

These activities were entirely unproductive and a waste of my sterling intellect, but I was enjoying myself.

Adding to the satisfaction, this morning I caught a glimpse of my hot neighbor.

It was dark and cold at five thirty in the morning, but I still got a decent look at him.

I woke as I usually do, in a panic around four thirty.

My heart pounded and my mind raced as I reached for my phone to check my emails.

It took a few minutes before I realized they had taken my company phone and so there were no emails to check.

But still, I was jittery and awake so I decided to take a morning walk and was rewarded with a sighting of one of the most attractive men I’ve ever seen.

He was tall and broad and exuded masculinity.

I had no idea what he did for a living, but I bet he worked with his hands.

His strong, fit body indicated a physical job, not just time spent in the gym.

He was scruffy, with a full beard and long dark hair pulled back into a bun.

I couldn’t tell exactly how old he was, but I’d guess probably in his thirties.

He’d run in sweatpants and a faded Navy hoodie.

When he got back to his yard, he stripped off the hoodie and started doing pushups in his T-shirt.

I could see the faint outlines of tattoos in the early morning light.

If I was a religious woman I would have thanked the good Lord for pushups.

It seemed like he could do them for ages and ages.

And I watched. I watched his arms, back, and shoulders contract and his firm, round ass in those sweatpants.

The men in my life never wore sweatpants, so I was not familiar with their allure.

Even across the street, they were the hottest thing I had ever seen.

He was dirty and sweaty and oh so hot. Not my type at all, of course, but I could appreciate a fine specimen of man when I saw one.

My hot neighbor was one of the only bright spots in the past few days.

But as I stood on the tiny porch, the winter wind burning the skin on my cheeks, I knew coming here was the right decision.

My world had completely shifted on its axis, and I needed to regroup and make a plan.

What better place than a secluded oceanfront cottage in some small charming town where no one knew who my mother was or about the mistakes I had made?