The Ivy House - By Drea Stein Page 0,9

of his desk. “It was Bethany and we broke up six months ago.” Chase got up and picked up the paperweight, a solid glass orb with a replica of the schooner America, the winner of the first America’s Cup.

Noah shook his head. “That long? Wasn’t she some sort of model?”

“Wasn’t my type,” Chase answered curtly.

Noah shot his friend a look. Bethany had been a swimwear model and Chase had met her at a photo shoot for the spring catalog. “I didn’t know there was a girl who wasn’t your type.”

“Well, let’s just say she seemed to be more interested in what I could do for her than in my sparkling personality.”

“Wow, sounds like you’re maturing. Good thing since you’re turning thirty in another couple of months and all that,” Noah said with a laugh.

“Very funny,” Chase said, managing to keep the sarcasm to a low boil.

“Are we going to spend all of lunch talking about your love life?” Noah asked, one foot swinging casually off the side of his chair.

Chase gave a half smile. Noah was his oldest friend, and they’d been through a lot of things together, including girls.

Chase shook his head. “There’s nothing to tell.” Once he had grown tired of Bethany, who, like most of the other women he’d dated, seemed more interested in his wallet than him, he’d decided to take a break. It had been refreshing—six months of not worrying about what someone else thought—but a man had needs. And right now, there was a certain blond up on the hill who was occupying more than her fair share of his brain space.

No wonder she had looked at him down her nose. He was dressed like a dockhand. He should have put on a suit and tie, the kind that he kept for meetings, but he’d been so excited when the agent had told him that Ivy House might be available that he rushed up there, sure that fate was handing him his chance.

“I keep telling you: dating models and actresses isn’t the key to lasting happiness,” Noah said, shaking his head, bringing Chase back to his present predicament.

“Just because you’re married now doesn’t mean you’re the expert,” Chase shot back.

Noah gave a small laugh. “Isn’t that the truth? I’ve known Caitlyn just about all my life and been married to her for over a year, and she still surprises me.”

Chase took a long appraising look at his old friend. The surprises must have been good ones because Noah looked happy, at ease. Of course, it was easy to be that way when you were a successful tech entrepreneur, had reconnected with the love of your life, and were expecting a baby.

“Congrats, by the way, for real. I haven’t seen you since you guys announced the news,” Chase said.

He meant it too. He and Noah had grown up in Queensbay together, thick as thieves as kids. Noah had lived in the big house on the bluffs high above the harbor, while Chase, his brother, and parents lived down in town, near the marina.

Noah and Chase had learned to sail on the harbor at the Yacht Club and had hated each other at first sight. That had led to a game of chicken, in boats, which resulted in one boat sunk and the other one in dry dock for weeks. To help pay for the damages and learn a better way of handling their feelings towards each other, their dads made them work at the marina, scrubbing down boats and pumping gas. Since that hadn’t helped their relationship, they decided to settle things the old-fashioned way—with a race. Chase had beaten the pants off Noah, and Noah, always one to use brains over brawn, shook his hand and offered to be his crew for the Club’s Junior Cup. They’d won that year and every year thereafter.

Since then, they’d been inseparable on the water and off, he and Noah making a powerful team. After high school, Noah had headed to college for a couple of years and then dropped out to go to Silicon Valley, California. Chase, too, had gone to college, but spent most of his time with the sailing team, and finally, after a few semesters, the lure of sailing in the big leagues caught up with him.

Chase had focused on racing, on winning, driven by the money it made him. He’d been doing just fine and hadn’t thought much about it when Noah, turned down by his own father, had asked for a loan.