Heartbreaker

by Monica Robinson

  Emily and Laney exchanged glances, but it was Laney who spoke. “I know this sounds horrible, but you don’t suppose Joe got a hold of him do you?”

  Charity shook her head. “No, the paranoid side of me already called the local hospitals and no one fitting Scott’s description has been admitted in the last twenty-four hours. I suppose that’s something. It means my brother hasn’t completely lost his mind.” She leaned back in her seat with a groan. “I really do have the worst luck with men. I think I’m cursed, guys.”

  “You’re not cursed, Cherry.” Emily hailed a passing waitress. “Three shots of rum and another strawberry-banana daiquiri for my friend. Hers seems to have melted.”

  The waitress jotted down the order, seeming to ignore the sour pout Charity was giving her friend before walking away.

  “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  “Absolutely,” Emily replied with a sweet smile. “What are best friends for? So, have you thought about what you’re going to say at your interview with Merlin tomorrow?”

  Charity nearly choked on her drink. Crap! She’d nearly forgotten about the payback show she’d agreed to do on KORK. Correction, the payback show Joe had agreed she would do. She couldn’t show up with a raging hangover. How would that make her look?

  “Em, I can’t show up at the station hung over. I’ll sound like a blithering idiot.”

  Laney rolled her eyes and plucked a loose thread off her tank top. “Don’t worry about it. Emily and I have everything under control. We’re staying the night and heading back to San Rico after the interview. We won’t let you say anything you’ll regret.”

  “I didn’t bring a change of clothes.”

  “I brought extras,” Emily supplied. “You and I wear close to the same size. It might be a little big, but it’ll do.”

  “All right.” Charity shot each of them a suspicious look. “Where are we staying?”

  “With me.”

  She looked up to find Joe standing behind Emily, his arms loosely crossed and a crooked grin edging his lips. “Where else would you stay?”

  Upon seeing Joe, Laney rose and gave him a hug. “You came. Emily and I were a little concerned you wouldn’t when we couldn’t get a hold of you this afternoon.”

  They’d been planning this the whole time? Man, her friends were devious. Then again, she would have done the same thing if either of them were in her position. She leaned her chin on the heel of her hand and eyed her brother.

  “I had a few errands to run this afternoon that took longer than expected, but I came as soon as I could.” He turned his attention to Charity. “What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

  “Dad called you last night.”

  “Yeah and?”

  “No one’s seen Scott since this morning.”

  Joe groaned. “Jesus, Cherry. I didn’t do anything to him. Granted, I wasn’t happy, but there’s a big difference between what happened between you and Scott and what Bobby did.”

  Laney rested her hand on his arm. “So, you haven’t seen him?”

  He looked at Laney’s hand before covering it with his own and shook his head. “Not since we had dinner last night. I’m sure he’s fine.”

  “Works for me,” Emily stated and sat back when the waitress returned with their drinks. “Now, let’s commence to drinking and thinking of how Cherry’s going to pay Nick back. Which reminds me…How could you not recognize his voice?”

  Joe rubbed his forehead with his fingertips and released a low breath. “I did, sort of. Right after I gave him my thoughts on why…”

  “I was faking it?” Charity supplied and downed her shot.

  Joe cringed. “Yeah. After that, the pieces fell into place, but it was too late. For what it’s worth, I’m really sorry. I never would have taken the call or said anything if I’d known it was him.”

  “You did me a favor, really. If you hadn’t taken the call, I wouldn’t have found out what an underhanded sleaze ball he is. Seriously, what kind of guy calls a radio station to ask for sex advice?” She grinned. “Then comes back for his toothbrush a week later.”

  Emily laughed. “Did you give it to him?”

  “No, Scott kicked his ass, and they broke my end table in the process. One of them owes me a new table, by the way. I used the toothbrush to get the wine out of my carpet.”

  Joe slipped Laney a sidelong glance. “And you and Emily think I’m the neurotic one.”

  “You are,” Laney said after downing her shot. She laughed when he frowned. “Don’t worry, Doctor. I find this trait rather attractive in you.”

  Well. That’s one way to get his attention. Charity and Emily exchanged glances, each of them smothering knowing smiles. She’d once told Scott that the only way anything would happen between Laney and Joe was if Laney made the first move. It appeared her friend was finally making her move.

  A successful one if the light in her brother’s eyes was an indication.

  “Do you, now?”

  “Mm hmm. It means you’re a human with flaws just like everyone else.” Her smile broadened. “Plus, it can help you relate to your patients.”

  Joe laughed. “I suppose it does. Would you like to dance?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Charity watched the two wind through the crowd to the dance floor before sitting back in her seat with a wistful smile. The only thing missing now was Scott. No, her past with Bobby hadn’t been any of his business, but she shouldn’t have bit his head off for bringing him up either. Where had he gone?

  As if sensing her mental pondering, Emily patted her hand. “He’ll turn up, Cherry. I’m sure of it.”

  She hoped so. She’d hate to think he went back to Vegas without telling anyone.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Charity!”

  Charity gave a start and resisted the urge to scowl at Tom. “I’m five feet away, sir. There’s no need to yell.”

  In the three weeks since her story came out—with vast reader approval, she might add—she’d struck an odd sort of relationship with her editor. She no longer saw him as a boorish, uptight man. She still believed he color coordinated his socks and underwear, but that was neither here nor there. Now, she viewed him as someone who cared about the story, and she was pretty sure she’d managed to give him the same impression of her.

  Tom looked as though he wanted to glower when he sighed instead. “Just get in my office. I need to talk to you.”

  “Uh-oh,” Emily muttered. “Wonder what he wants.”

  Charity lifted her shoulders and rose. “Beats me. I’ll let you know in a few.”

  She took a deep breath and strode to his office door. Even though their relationship had become more relaxed, she still felt like a kid being summoned to the principal’s office whenever he called her in to talk. She knocked on the glass insert and waited for him to call her in before entering.

  “Have a seat,” Tom said without looking up from his computer screen. “There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

  Crap. What did I do? She couldn’t think of anything with the exception of the room service she’d ordered while on the Hedonna, but figured he would have gotten the bill for that long before now.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Tom finally glanced up, a perplexed expression on his face. “Huh? Oh! No, not at all. I have a story I want you to do. As I’m sure you know, someone bought the old Sand Bar. Odd thing is, no one knows who it is and Jack Dauber isn’t talking. The grand re-opening isn’t for another two weeks, but the new owner is holding a special ‘invitation only’ party for sixty people tonight.” He handed her an envelope. “Here’s your invitation.”

  Charity turned the envelope over in her hands before peering at him. “Not that I don’t appreciate the opportunity, but isn’t Laney the entertainment guru?”

  Tom nodded. “Yes, but the invitation is specifically for you. Whoever the new owner is, he or she wants you to cover it. I’m anxious to see what you discover.”r />
  So was she. Jack wouldn’t sell his beloved bar to just anyone, but she found it strange that he wouldn’t divulge who he’d sold it to. Maybe she should pay him a visit on her way home.

  “I won’t disappoint you.” Clearing her mind, she brightened. “Would you mind if I took off to talk to Jack Dauber? When I was younger, he used to open the club to the high school kids after school. Who knows? Maybe I can get something out of him.”

  He gestured to the door with a sweep of his hand. “Be my guest. Just have the story ready to print by Monday morning.”

  Without another word, Charity slipped out of his office and returned to her desk for her purse. She glanced at the envelope in her hand and bit her lip. Who could have bought the bar that would specifically ask for her to cover the story? She supposed Jack could have insisted since she’d known the old man for so long, but that seemed a little far-fetched.

  “So?” Emily broke into her thoughts. “What did Tom want?”

  Charity removed her purse and stuffed the envelope inside. “He gave me an assignment for tonight. The new owner of the Sand Bar is holding an invitation-only party tonight and I guess I have an invitation.”

  Emily’s dark eyebrows rose. “You specifically?”

  She nodded.

  “Wow. Sounds intriguing. Any idea who this person is?”

  “Nope, but I’m going to talk to Jack and see if I can get any information from him. So far, he hasn’t told anyone, but I’m not just anyone.”

  “Good luck. Let me know how it goes.”

  Charity promised she would and hurried out of the office. Once in the sanctuary of the elevator, she reached into her purse and removed the envelope containing her invite. She examined her name scripted across the cream-colored envelope before removing the folded card.

  Your presence is requested at

  the grand-opening of the Sand Bar.

  Date: September 20th

  Time: 8:00 pm-4:00 am

  Formal attire required

  Charity glanced at the personal note at the bottom of the card. The handwriting was different from the calligraphy used for the rest of the invitation, yet she didn’t recognize the neat print. This irritated her. Here was proof that the new owner had hand-selected her to attend the party, though she’d be damned if she knew who it was.

  Sorry for the wait.

  Scott? No, it couldn’t be. She hadn’t heard from him in three weeks. Not since the night she’d thrown him out. It hurt, yes, but she also had some pleasant memories to take away from the experience. At least now she knew she wasn’t sexually broken. All she needed was someone who would take the time please her the way she wanted.

  Coming out of her daze, Charity folded the card and placed it in the envelope right as the elevator doors opened. Straightening her shoulders, she stepped out and headed for the entrance. She needed to forget Scott. There were plenty of attractive men in San Rico. It was just a shame they were either married or gay.

  Who was she kidding? She should stop looking…period. If she found Mr. Right, then great. If not? Oh well. She had her friends and family and there was always her free gift from the Hedonna when the nights got lonely.

  “Dear God, I’m pathetic,” she grumbled while crossing the parking lot.

  Breathing in the warm autumn air, she squinted against the sun setting just above the buildings. Maybe she should call Jack first. After all, it was kind of rude to show up unannounced. Then again, if she asked to come over under false pretenses, he might get mad when he learned the truth.

  Grow some balls, Charity. You’re a reporter. Right. She was a reporter. A reporter with a nasty habit of talking to herself and lousy luck with men. Removing her keys, she unlocked the door and climbed inside. After giving her reflection a quick check in the rearview mirror, she jammed the key in the ignition. She would make the interview brief because, even though the party wasn’t for several hours, she looked like hell.

  “Charity, my dear,” Jack declared when he answered the door less than ten minutes later. “You look as lovely as ever.”

  Charity accepted his hug with a small laugh. “I see you haven’t gone in for that cataract surgery yet.”

  “Nope, got it scheduled for next week. Come on in. What brings you by to see me? Did you get your invitation?” Jack gestured to the couch before closing the door and making his way to his easy chair. “Sit, sit.”

  Charity eased herself onto the couch and patted her purse. “Actually, that’s one of the reasons why I came to see you. Other than seeing how you’re doing, I was curious who you sold the club to. I mean the last time we talked, you didn’t like any of the prospective buyers.”

  “Now, don’t you worry. My bar’s in very good hands. You’ll find out who it is tonight.”

  Letting out a frustrated breath, she crossed her legs. She should have known Jack wouldn’t tell her anything. “Well, I hope you got a good price for her.”

  “A hundred.”

  Charity’s jaw dropped and she rose. “Jack! Even as run down as she was, the Sand Bar was worth a half a million easy. Why did you settle for a hundred thousand?”

  Jack shook his head. “No, I sold her for a hundred dollars.”

  I’m going to be sick. She sank onto the edge of the couch and scrubbed her face on her palms. She couldn’t believe this. Jack had sunk his whole life into the bar and what did he have to show for it? A measly hundred bucks.

  “Oh, Jack,” she groaned. “Why? What would possess you to do something like that?” Feeling his hand on her knee, she lifted her head and found him smiling at her.

  “I know you think I’m a senile old man, Charity, but I had a reason for what I did. Go to the party tonight and you’ll see. I think you’ll agree I made the right choice.”

  She doubted it, but didn’t voice her opinion aloud. Instead, she promised to be objective. Jack’s reason had better be good or she was going to make this new owner sorry they ever heard of her.

  ****

  The sounds of music and laughter greeted Charity even before she entered the Sand Bar that night. A warm breeze fluttered the colored paper lanterns strung along the sides of the building and she was reminded of the last night she spent with Scott aboard the Hedonna.

  Stop it. Scott was gone and she would most likely never see him again. It hurt, yes, but it was for the best. Just the same, every time she closed her eyes, she relived the hurt expression on Scott’s face when she told him to get out.

  “But I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, now does it?”

  That comment had hurt worse than the day he’d left for Las Vegas. At least when he’d left for college, he’d said he would see her around. There was no mistaking his words this time. This time it was final. Sayonara, auf wiedersehen, arrivederci, adios.

  Goodbye.

  With a mental shake of her head, Charity stepped through the doors and surveyed the party before glancing at her clingy, black cocktail dress. She sighed. Though the strapless dress reached her knees, she still felt underdressed. What if the new owner was expecting eveningwear? Just the same, whoever had purchased the old beach bar certainly knew what he or she was doing. The rundown building had been restored to its former glory, complete with birch wood flooring and autographed photos of local celebrities lining the paneled walls.

  Her eyes scanned the patrons and she smiled. Men and women dressed in tuxedos and evening gowns filled the spacious room, but they all lacked one thing—shoes. She peered down at her sandals and slipped them off before making her way to the bar. Taking the last remaining stool, she set her shoes down and folded her hands onto the smooth surface of the bar.

  “Cherry!”

  She turned to find Laney weaving her way to the bar, a champagne glass in one hand and her shoes in the other. Once by her side, Laney dropped her shoes on the ground and gave Charity a hug.

  “Hi, sweetie. I’m glad you made it. Where’s your drink?”

  “I just got here.” Charity glanced around. “You
received an invitation, too?”

  Laney shook her head. “I didn’t. My date did.” She plucked a champagne glass off a passing waiter’s tray and handed it to Charity with a wink. “Don’t worry, Mommy. I have a chaperone tonight.”

  “Who?”

  From behind, a slender arm draped around her shoulders and she twisted her head to see Emily grinning at her. “Me. I told her date he couldn’t take our little Laney out without supervision, so here I am. Ah, speaking of the devil, there he is.”

  “Ladies and gentleman! If I may have your attention please.”

  Yanked from her confusion, Charity turned her attention to the makeshift stage. Joe? What was her brother doing here? He hadn’t mentioned receiving an invitation. Turning on her stool, she folded her hands over her knee.

  When the crowd quieted, Joe wiggled his eyebrows. “I know you all are anxious to meet our evening’s mystery host, but I’m going to ask for just a moment of patience. I’ve been asked to ensure that a particular guest has arrived.” He squinted before pointing to Charity. “Ah, there she is. Cherry, would you come up here?”

  Oh dear God. What did he think he was doing? He, of all people, knew she hated being singled out. All eyes turned to her and she managed a sheepish grin while offering the crowd a tiny wave. She slid off her seat and kept her gaze fixed on the floor while picking her way through the partygoers.

  “I hope you know I’m going to kill you later,” she murmured when she reached her brother’s side. “Dead, Joe. Dead, dead, dead.”

  He leaned toward her ear, the crooked grin never leaving his face. “Sorry, Cherry. I made a promise.” Her head snapped in his direction, but he ignored her as he smiled for the audience. “Without further ado, I’m pleased to introduce our host for the evening…” He gestured to the right with a grand sweep of his hand. “Scott Nolan.”

  Un-friggin’-believable. The very thing she’d blindly hoped for was now coming to life and all she could do was gape. Her heart lodged in her throat and she watched in awe as Scott emerged from a room to the right of the stage. The audience erupted in applause, whistles, and hoots nearly deafening her. He lifted his hand to greet the crowd and clapped a few of the patrons on the back as he made his way to the stage.