The Millionaire's Intriguing Offer

Too Late To Turn Back

"I still think this is a really bad idea."

Bailey was sitting on the edge of the bed frowning at the glass of no-champagne mimosa in her hand. Mitsy had made a pitcher of them, with fresh squeezed tangerines and sparkling apple cider, topped off with a dash of ginger ale.

It wasn't the drink Bailey was objecting to. It was what Mitsy was doing in the room-sized walk-in closet and dressing room, where Bailey could hear hangers sliding across the long rods and drawers being open and shut.

Mitsy reappeared with another armload of clothes and dumped them all on the settee she'd had upholstered to match the luxurious bedding on the huge king-size bed.

"You know," Bailey said, "your bedroom really should be featured in one of those designer magazines."

"Stop changing the subject," Mitsy said. She narrowed her eyes. "We really need to pare this down a bit."

"You think? Mitsy, it's a weekend trip. How many times a day do people at their summer estates change their clothes?"

"Well," Mitsy began, and Bailey held up a hand, cutting her off.

"I was kidding." She sighed. "Seriously, my own clothes are perfectly fine. It's a weekend. And I don't even want to go."

"Not wanting to go is completely irrelevant to deciding what to wear, since you are, in fact going," Mitsy said pragmatically, her hands on her hips.

"I never should have agreed to this." Bailey knew Mitsy thought she was worried about feeling out of place, and yes, of course that was true. But her dread of this weekend trip to Sag Harbor ran a lot deeper than that.

Mitsy sat down on the bed beside her and put her arm around Bailey. "Honey, it will be fine. If there's one thing I know, it's what to wear at snooty weekends in the Hamptons."

"It's Sag Harbor."

"Same difference."

Mitsy gave her another squeeze and then bounced up off the bed.

"So let's get started, shall we?"

Two hours and several skirmishes later, Bailey's suitcase and carry-on were packed, and she had a fancy designer tote that Mitsy assured her was perfect for her new jet-setting lifestyle.

"Very funny," Bailey said. "I just want this trip to be over and done with."

Bailey really didn't want to go, but what could she do? She couldn't tell Jack her real reasons, and he had insisted that meeting his grandfather would be worth putting up with his parents for the weekend. Besides, he'd told her, he wanted to spend as much time alone with her as possible. An afternoon in the parlor with his mother was definitely not on the agenda.

So, reluctantly, Bailey had agreed. She just hoped she wasn't making a huge mistake.

* * *

Jonathon's phone rang a few blocks from Bailey's apartment building. He saw the name pop up on the display screen on the dashboard and almost hit decline, then sighed and accepted the call.

"Hello Mother - I'm on the way to pick up Bailey now and head to the airport."

"So you decided to bring her."

Jonathon shook his head in frustration. "Stop playing games. I told you I was bringing Bailey. I don't see why that's such a problem for you."

"I was only hoping we could keep this little get-together limited to family. You know too much stress isn't good for your grandfather."