Beach Thriller(56)
His hand dropped away at the mention of his fiancée. “Coerced might be a better word than offered. Her dad’s huge in pharma, and I’m set to run his real estate division.” He paused. “Honestly, I don’t want the job.” Conrad’s eyes drifted to the ocean. “I don’t want any of this,” he mumbled.
He balled up his drawing and stuffed it back in his pocket.
“Any of it?” Anna hoped he would know she wasn’t just talking about work.
“I thought I did. Elizabeth and I go way back—we were high school sweethearts. Everyone expected us to get married. But she hasn’t been the same since her mom died. It was sudden, really tragic. She was a model, still working in her forties—not the healthiest lifestyle, too thin, a smoker … but still, you don’t expect that.” He left it there, and Anna didn’t push.
“I did my best to support her, but after her mother’s death, she started drinking heavily. I thought it was just a phase, but it kept getting worse. I don’t like to judge. I love having a good time as much as anyone, but not the way she does.” His jaw tightened. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”
Anna almost reached for his arm but pulled back. “It’s okay—I’m glad you’re sharing. I’ve been wondering. The engagement party was lovely, but let’s just say … there were undertones.”
Did he understand she meant him and her, not Elizabeth?
“If it’s as bad as you say—why…?” Her voice faded.
“Why get engaged?” Conrad sighed but looked at her as if she were his lifeline. “I guess I felt trapped. Elizabeth depends on me for emotional support, and now there’s family pressure to make it work. But I’m done cleaning up after her drinking. I don’t want this fancy job with her father’s company. I just want to say fuck it—fuck it all.”
His face turned gray; his eyes darkened. “My family can go to hell with their expectations.”
He bent down, picked up a stick, and snapped it in two with an audible crack, like he was breaking someone’s neck. Anna flinched, startled by his sudden outburst. After a few deep breaths, he calmed, color returning to his cheeks.
“I want out. I want a new life, away from all this.” He gestured to the large house and lush gardens that would be the envy of most. “But Elizabeth and my family—it’s like they’ve trapped me inside a box.”
“It’s a pretty box,” Anna said gently. “And you have a bright future. Not to mention you’ve got money. I’ll be lucky if I make rent in my first year of teaching.”
Conrad looked at her, embarrassed that he hadn’t asked about her aspirations. “You want to be a teacher?” He said this as though she were Mother Teresa.
“Yeah, I love kids. I grew up with just my mom and my sister.” She told him about her grandfather stepping in after her dad died. “More than anything, I want a big family. Holidays, kids running around the yard, a white picket fence, all that. I studied early childhood education—there’s nothing more important than teaching the next generation.”
Conrad looked wistful. “I wish I had a sibling. But I don’t think my parents liked each other enough to try again. Honestly, it’s a miracle I’m here.” He laughed mirthlessly. “There’s a loneliness to being an only child. And I’m sorry about your father. My dad, Geoffrey, passed away, too. I guess we share that sad story. I miss him every day, but my mom doesn’t feel the same way.”
Anna’s heart constricted. She hardly remembered her father, but Conrad’s grief felt raw.
Perhaps Conrad felt he had overshared; he quickly changed the subject. “So, teaching, huh? That’s a lot more noble than real estate.” His smile returned.
“I like to think it’s a calling,” Anna said. “But we need buildings to teach in—so your job matters, too.”
Conrad’s smile widened as he laughed. The rage and sadness she had glimpsed was now as distant as the sun trailing their walk.
“I want a big family, too. Maybe in a house where you don’t worry about breaking priceless antiques wherever you turn. The other night, you wished to be invited to the party. But I want to run away from it—go somewhere else, build something new. Does that make sense?”
His eyes were so earnest, she felt a lump form in her throat.
“Does Elizabeth know how you feel?” she asked, stepping over an invisible line.
Conrad seemed sincere, but he had a fiancée. Was he prone to making promises he couldn’t keep? Was he only saying what Anna wanted to hear?
“Yeah, she knows. But once she has her heart set on something, there’s no stopping her. She’s Daddy’s girl and she’s used to getting what she wants.”
They reached the edge of the estate. Ahead stood a sweet cottage with two stories, whitewashed shingles, and a small porch. Unlike the main house, it felt warm and lived in.
Conrad noticed her interest. “That’s the guesthouse,” he said. “We barely use it. It was my hideout as a kid. Want to see?”
He took her hand and led her up the steps. “The door sticks a little, but it just needs a shove.” He bumped it open with his shoulder.
Anna was enchanted. Dust hung in the air, and the place smelled faintly stale, but it was cozy. A woodstove sat in the corner, with a cushioned bench under the window. The kitchen was compact, with a kettle on the stove and a breakfast bar. A spiral staircase curled upward to a second story.