Found

FIVE

FIVE

Although they called it the music room, it wasn’t a room of the house, it was a separate outbuilding on estate land. There were various structures dotted around in their acres, built at different times for different things. The music room, however, was definitely her favorite.

With the grand piano elevated in the corner, warm wood flooring and glass pocket doors that gave a view of the sea, it was a space for reflection.

And for writing music.

Getting back in the groove was one thing. Her fingers hadn’t moved on anything other than a computer keyboard for weeks, but Poppy had forgotten how it could take her away. The music bolstered her mood or reinforced it, the melodies and finger dances across the keys took her away from hurt and confusion. The music didn’t care about words in the sky or rewards or people on TV. It helped her to concentrate, to focus her conscious mind so her subconscious could figure her life out.

Living in the real world away from financial privilege hadn’t fixed her. Coming home to all the luxury she could stand didn’t do it either.

She stopped playing to put a few notes on paper. That was when she heard the footsteps and turned to see Primrose coming in to join her.

“You’re writing,” Primrose said. “I haven’t seen you do that in a long time.”

“I’m just messing around.”

Primrose came over and Poppy slid down the stool to make room for her. “You know, I never got it. I hated it when Mom told us to practice our instruments…” Her sister traced the lines between the keys. “You were always a natural.”

“I enjoyed it. The music was a comfort.”

“I can understand that,” Primrose said, still touching the keys without pressing them. “The guy who came here last night… He’s the guy from your building. The one who brought me to your apartment.”

“Yes.”

“You were with him before you came home?”

“It’s complicated,” Poppy said when Primrose glanced at her. “But yes, I was.”

“And he’s in love with you… like Holden.”

Primrose’s fingers slid off the keys and onto her lap as Poppy began to play a soft, happy tune. “The difference being Turner actually knows who I am. He took the time to get to know me. I don’t know what Holden’s about, having some early midlife crisis, I guess.”

“How does Turner feel about Holden loving you?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t asked him. Probably not good.”

“He’s not threatened?”

Her lips quirked, and she kept on playing. “No. Turner knows I have no interest in Holden… the whole thing just makes me angry.”

Primrose sighed. “So Turner can get over it, but Violet can’t?”

“She was humiliated. Being jilted is one thing, but the way Holden did it…” Poppy shook her head. “I don’t blame her for being emotional.”

“I tried to get her to come down here. I think it would help for her to hear that you’re really not interested in Holden.”

“I’ve never wavered in that. When she’s ready to hear me, she will,” Poppy said and leaned over to nudge her while still playing. “I’m proud of you though. Coming to get me. Coming down here to talk, you’re really trying to hold us all together.”

“I… uh…”

Poppy laughed. “I know, we’re not usually so free with the compliments… We should celebrate the positives instead of only highlighting the negatives.”

Still playing, Poppy enjoyed the texture of the keys and the lilt of the tune.

“You’ve changed,” Primrose said after a few moments. “For the better. I like this new Poppy… Grammie always said that finding love alters our outlook. She was right.”

“Maybe,” Poppy said, her fingers speeding up. “Would you like me to teach you something?”

“God no,” Primrose said. “I haven’t played in like twenty years.”

“Because you chose the flute… Where is your flute by the way?”

“No idea,” Primrose said. “There’s no time anyway, I said I’d remind you about dinner. We’re already late.”

Time had got away from her, which wasn’t a bad thing. Poppy needed the oblivion. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t last forever. She had to face her family again, Poppy just hoped that night would be somewhat less dramatic than the previous one.

Poppy and Primrose walked into the dining room arm in arm talking about some of the drama she’d missed in their social circles. Poppy wasn’t particularly close to any of their “friends.” Grammie was her best friend. But it was nice to hear tales from the lives of others that made hers feel a little saner.

The extra body at the dinner table brought her up short.

“Oh my God,” Primrose whispered a few feet inside the dining room. “Is that your landlord stalker from last night?”

Breathing out, Poppy accepted that Grammie wasn’t letting up. “You can call him Turner.”

How her family had missed Grammie inviting him to stay and him getting a job on their land was a mystery. Though not for long.

When they approached the dining table, everyone turned to the pair of sisters. Poppy let go of Primrose so the latter could go around to her customary seat next to Violet.

“If you’re uncomfortable, we’ll have security escort him out,” her father said. “It seems your grandmother has a bee in her bonnet about this one.”

“He can stay,” Poppy said without missing that he’d been positioned next to Grammie in her usual seat, so she’d been bumped down one.

The sun had set while she and Primrose crossed the grounds. It would be getting colder too. If they kicked Turner out, he’d struggle to find anywhere to stay in town, unless he bunked in with one of his new buddies from the worksite.

“Your grandmother dragooned him into the library after you retired last night,” her mother said as appetizers were served and wine poured.

Turner put a hand over his glass when the server, Stephanie, came his way. “No thanks.”

He didn’t notice the coy smile on the young Stephanie’s face. Poppy did. Was it because he was just so hot or did the staff enjoy him for some other reason?

“We assumed that you sent him packing when you’d finished your conversation, mother,” Clark Granger wasn’t too impressed with his mom.

“It’s fine,” Poppy said, showing her parents a smile.

Having Turner at the dinner table was a comfort actually. Poppy didn’t want to send mixed signals or confuse the situation, but she could never feel bad when he was around. The truth was, he filled her with warmth and security.

“See, it’s fine,” Marigold said to her son. “I don’t know what the problem is.”

Obviously after talking to him in the library, her Grammie had decided Turner was the real deal. That must’ve been when she hatched her plan to have him stay and get him employed.

Poppy recalled their last conversation, earlier in the day. “You didn’t sign anything today, did you?”

“No,” Turner said, checking out the flatware. Without saying anything, she picked up her fork, showing him which one he needed to use. “Guys showed me around and I looked at a couple of places. Real beautiful town you’ve got.”

“There’s no need for you to rent a residence,” Grammie said. “There’s plenty of room here. Aitken suggested you move into the house you’re building once it’s finished. You should do that. I won’t live forever, you need to get started on building the next generation with my granddaughter. I think that’s an excellent plan.”

“I don’t,” Poppy said, wishing she had the right angle to glare at her grandmother. “I think that’s a very bad plan.”

“I’m tempted to disinherit you, Tot. You’re being so difficult about all of this.”

“Disinherit away,” Poppy said, raising her wine glass.

“Then maybe you’ll think about building a life back where you met this beautiful man,” Grammie said.

Poppy put the wine glass to her lips, but the scent of the liquid stalled her. Wine, Turner… Poppy couldn’t be trusted in that setup, so put the alcohol down untouched.

“If I go back, the press will follow,” she said. “God knows what Holden will do. I won’t endanger the people I care about. They’ve been through enough already because of me.”

“We’ll protect you,” Turner said. “I’d give my life for you.”

“We don’t want it coming to that,” Grammie said. “Poppy is right that the media can be relentless. The situation is onerous.”

“It is what it is,” Poppy said. “And it’s the reason I told you to go home.” Although she looked at Turner, he didn’t look at her, he was busy peering at his plate, probably wondering where the rest of his food was. Something occurred to her. “You know, for all the times I sat at your mother’s dinner table, do you realize that you and I have never sat at a table and eaten a meal together.”

That did bring his attention around to her. “We haven’t?” Wearing a simple smile, she shook her head. “Guess we had better things to do.”

Keeping her smile simple was impossible when he insisted on inspecting her mouth with such heated intrigue. How many times had he kissed her? Poppy had lost track. It shouldn’t still feel like she was anticipating their first kiss. It shouldn’t be so exciting and arousing just fantasizing about what it might feel like to lean a little closer and—

“Poppy!”

Her mother’s exclamation startled her so much that she jumped. “Mom,” she said, clearing her throat, sure there was color in her cheeks. “I’m sorry, were you talking to me?”

The whisper of a laugh that came from behind Turner’s static lips was so smug that she wanted to push him or poke him or tell him to be more of a gentleman. But touching him would be a bad idea. Touching would definitely lead to mixed messages.

“The trials of your love life aside…” Silvia said to her. “I was trying to get an answer from your grandmother.”

“About her plans for the fortune?” Poppy asked, returning to her food in an attempt to find her equilibrium again. “Ask her, not me, I know nothing about it.”

“You’re the only one who can talk sense into her.”

It was a shame that her mother was so fraught. The poor woman was used to a certain kind of lifestyle. Adjusting to anything other than that would be quite a trial for her.

“Grammie will make her decision when she makes her decision.”

“I don’t see why she has to make it at all,” Silvia said. “There’s nothing wrong with the life we live.”

Grammie scoffed. “That is because you don’t know the other side of life, my dear. This is all you’ve ever known…” Marigold’s voice softened. “I feel for you, Sil, I really do… and for your girls. Violet and Primrose anyway. Poppy had her chance to live her own life and made a mess of it.”

“Thanks, Grammie,” Poppy said. “Just in case anyone wasn’t clear on that.”

“You didn’t make a mess of anything, Popkat,” Turner said, his plate already empty. He didn’t usually have the time to sit and eat, which would explain why he wasn’t in the habit of lingering. “Your sister’s f**k of an ex messed it up.”

Beneath the table, she patted his leg, wincing and shaking her head. “You shouldn’t swear around my mom.”

“Maybe if someone did, you’d all see this guy needs taken care of.”

“We’re dealing with it,” Clark said from the head of the table, unhappy to be doubted. “It’s a complicated situation.”

“Not from where I’m sitting,” Turner grumbled.

Playing mediator was usually something Poppy did for her sisters. Being the head of his own family, Turner was used to dealing with issues. He wasn’t used to sitting back and letting someone else deal with them.

“Holden can make things difficult at the company,” Poppy said without missing the irony that earlier in the day she’d been thinking how little she cared about that. “But I don’t want it going on any more than you do.”

Turner’s next blink was slow on its approach to her gaze. “Of everyone at this table, baby, I guarantee that I want this guy taken care of the most… And I’m willing to do the job.”

Maybe, but it wasn’t like taking care of Holden would suddenly free her up. “I have no romantic interest in him, First.”

“I know that.”

“I shouldn’t have to say it.”

“You don’t,” he said.

“And you know the suggestion he’d be a threat to you is laughable.”

“Yeah,” he said, sinking back in his chair and draping an arm across the back of hers. “But he’s upsetting you, causing problems for you. I’ve been patient, hanging back to see what your side come up with…”

“Holden Abernathy could ruin you,” Poppy said, squeezing his thigh. “How would you ending up destitute and in prison help any of your girls? I guarantee your mom’s opinion of me would change fast if you were destroyed by something that was my fault.”

“How is this your fault?” he asked. “You didn’t ask the guy to break your sister’s heart. You didn’t want him for yourself. You couldn’t care less about him.”

“I know that,” she said, mirroring his recent response to her.

“If you were interested, you’d have him already. You’d have run away from the wedding together or you’d have hooked up since you’ve been home. Grammie says he’s barred from the estate. Still the guy won’t get the message.”

Everyone finished up and the servers came in to clear plates and bring out the entrée. As had been usual in the Granger house for the last couple of weeks, silence joined them as they ate.

“Holden did me a favor.”

Violet. Those words came from the sister who had barely said anything above a whisper in Poppy’s vicinity since she’d been back.

“Yes,” Grammie said. “Good girl, that’s exactly the right attitude. We don’t need blood like that in this family.”

“We might if you’re going to kick us out onto the street.”

“Oh, Sil,” Marigold reacted to the jibe. “There is more to life than money.”

“You’ve enjoyed your life of luxury,” Silvia said. “If it was good enough for you, why isn’t it good enough for us?”

“Silvia,” Clark said, taking his wife’s hand. “Why do you react? You only encourage her.”

Grammie leaned over her food to address her daughter-in-law. “It wouldn’t be such a bad thing for your girls to live in the real world. For all of you to live out there, it gives you a greater appreciation for what you take for granted.”

Poppy didn’t even realize she was going to laugh until the sound came out. It was just a short spurt, but enough to draw the diners scrutiny. “I’m sorry,” she said to each of her sisters and parents, but settled on her grandmother beyond Turner. “It doesn’t matter what any of us appreciate, Grammie, it doesn’t mean we can have it. You appreciated Grandpa and he’s gone. Val appreciated her husband. Mom appreciates her manicures… it doesn’t matter. Life doesn’t work that way.”

“Whatever path you choose, Tater-Tot, the happiness you had was real, even if it was brief. Your understanding of the world is better. Of course, you know me, I won’t judge you no matter what you decide. If you want to marry this man or Holden or any other, if you want to go it alone and never marry, I don’t mind. Heck, you have the looks and the charm to build your very own harem of hotties. I’ll sign this place over to you. If you want to turn it into your own private den of iniquity, that’s just fine by me.”

“Not by me,” Turner said.

Though there wasn’t an ounce of humor in his voice, the statement amused her. That was the last thing Poppy would want and definitely wasn’t why she was holding back from him.

“So if we go and live away from the estate for three months, then you’ll promise not to sell our home out from under us?” Primrose asked.

Before Grammie had a chance to answer, her father’s head rose. “Tiller, what is it?”

The chief valet was just inside the doors. “Miss Poppy, your guest has arrived.”

Gasping in excitement, she shot to her feet almost forgetting her manners for a moment. “Dad, can I be excused just for… ten minutes…” Cringing, she pushed her luck. “Maybe we could set another place at the table?”

Her father considered her for a moment before relenting his smile. “The kitchen already have orders. Just keep your meeting brief.”

“Thank you,” Poppy said, dashing away from the table to join Tiller who walked her out of the dining room. “Where is he?”

“Library.”