I’ll make it successful. I’ll pay him back. This is just a business loan. A partnership.
Granted, it was an opportunity that almost any business-minded person would kill for, but Jared had offered it to her, and she’d be a fool not to make the most of it.
How many people get the opportunity to do business with one of the billionaire Sinclairs?
Her jaw set stubbornly, she made her way into the bedroom and opened the closet in the master with a gasp. Sarah had told her on the phone that she’d picked up some clothing for her and left it in the guest house, along with some other items to replace what she’d lost in the fire. A gift, she’d said, a thank-you from her because Mara was replacing Kristin in her wedding. Sarah had told her that Dante had once provided her with a new wardrobe when her own clothing had been destroyed and had refused any payment for it. She’d gone on to say she knew how lost she had felt then without her belongings, and she hoped the clothing she, Emily, and Randi had selected would help her feel a little better.
Mara started to hyperventilate when she saw the massive amount of clothing in her closet. The storage space was full of jeans, shorts, skirts, tops, dresses, shoes, jackets, and accessories. As Mara moved across the room to open the dresser drawers, she found they were no less crowded with underwear, lingerie, and every undergarment Mara could imagine.
“She shouldn’t have done this,” she mumbled anxiously under her breath. These weren’t cheap clothes, and the gift was far too much. For her, a few pairs of jeans and T-shirts would have sufficed.
Closing the top drawer of the dresser, Mara sighed. Did any Sinclair, even one just marrying into the family, do anything in a small way? Having anyone care for her as an adult seemed awkward and strange. Most of her adult life had been spent tending to her sick mother. Mara couldn’t call anyone other than Kristin a real friend since she’d been consumed with her mom’s slowly debilitating illness. After her mother had passed away, she had grieved, living in a bubble of despair while trying to keep the shop afloat. Now, she wasn’t sure what to do or how to feel.
Sad?
Disconnected?
Scared?
Excited?
Or free?
Feeling somewhat guilty for feeling all of those emotions, Mara realized that by an incident of fate, she was unencumbered and able to seek out something new for herself. She was no longer tied to a dying business she felt obligated to continue. It was a frightening yet exciting notion that she could carve out her own place in the world instead of following tradition.
Looking back, she was fairly certain that her mother had wanted something better for her, which was why she’d tried to send Mara to college. “Maybe she didn’t want me to carry on the family tradition. She knew the store wasn’t making money. Maybe it was me who just wanted to hold on to a piece of my mom,” she muttered to herself as she wandered out of the bedroom.
After quickly donning one of the new outfits Sarah had bought her so she didn’t have to wear Jared’s T-shirts anymore, she left the house and walked outside, limping a little as she made her way down to the beach. Her injury was almost painless now, and the ice that Jared had applied to the strained outside muscle of her ankle and keeping it elevated had taken away the swelling completely. It was nothing more than a nuisance now, and Mara was happy to be walking again.
The weather was warm, bright, and sunny as she kicked off her sandals and waded into the ocean, sighing as the cool water washed over her feet.
I love Amesport. I’m so grateful that I don’t have to move.
Her heart still ached with the losses she’d suffered from the fire, but Jared was right . . . she had her life. The near-death experience had jolted her into the reality of how fleeting and fragile that life could be, and she was determined to appreciate every new day now.
I’ll make a success of this business. Mara’s Kitchen will put out some of the best products on the East Coast. Jared is giving me this chance, and I’m going to run with it, make it as good as it can possibly be.
Flopping into one of the low, wooden chairs at the edge of the water, Mara stretched her bare legs out in front of her. The red shorts Sarah had selected for her were a little shorter than she usually wore, but the matching red-and-white-striped shirt was comfortable. The water beckoned her, but she had to treat her ankle gingerly for a while, give the stretched muscle a chance to completely heal. Work came first, and she needed to be able to get around well without restrictions. Reinjuring it would delay all of the ambitious plans she was forming in her mind. It seemed so strange to be planning a business of her own, something that would be entirely new for her. Although she liked using the skills her mother had taught her to sew and make dolls, cooking was actually her first love. She was never more at home than when she was in the kitchen trying to improve on the already-incredible recipes that had been handed down from generation to generation.
She was just wondering what time Jared would be back from town when she saw a lone figure walking down the beach toward her. Squinting and shading her eyes with her hand, she noticed the male figure making his way slowly toward her. Gaping shamelessly, she acknowledged that the enormous male was actually wearing a suit and tie. Who in the heck would be wearing a suit in this heat, and on the beach, no less?
Not Jared. This guy is even bigger than Jared, which is saying something because Jared dwarfs most normal men.
The Peninsula was private, as were the beaches here, so it had to be a Sinclair, a guest of one of the family, or a trespasser.
Evan Sinclair.
She recognized the eldest Sinclair brother’s purposeful stride and jet-black hair before she could actually see his features. Mara had wanted to thank him since he’d rescued her, and it appeared she was going to get her chance.