“Pretty freaking awesome,” Justice said. “Papaw said you were a whiz-bang with computers. Thanks, kiddo.”
Bobbie began directing traffic. “Ginger, you and Cliff hang up the swimsuits; Lola, you straighten the board shorts; Justice, you and I will look over the financials.”
“Financials?”
She thumped her forehead. “Duh. The money, dude. You’ll need to maximize your profits, so let me show you what I do. Now you sit here.” She patted the stool next to her and Justice sat. Bobbie rubbed her hands together briskly. “Prepare to be dazzled.”
I watched over her shoulder as Bobbie proudly displayed her various accounts. “This is where I place all my stock trades, these are my precious metals holdings. You want to be real careful when you play the commodity market. Make sure you’ve got stop losses in place or you’ll go broke.”
Justice sat forward on the stool, peering at the screen. “Looks like you’ve got it wired.” I marveled at how easily Justice captivated Bobbie. As they went over the financials, he laughed at her jokes, complimented her abilities, and bantered about stuff like the surf, even telling her the locations of all the secret surf spots. One of the things I’d loved about Justice was the easy way he charmed everyone from my father to classmates to strangers. When we were teenagers, Justice was always the ringleader, gathering friends together for surf sessions or a day at the movies or a night at the local diner where we’d pig out on burgers and chili fries.
My eyes glazed over as I watched his protective way with Bobbie. Justice would make a fantastic father.
“Reason I’m showing you this is because you’re going to need to invest your money once you start raking it in.” She sat up straight and pointed to her chest. “And I’m just the one to help.” She opened another account for Justice’s inspection. “This is where the real magic happens. You’ve got your Sports bets here.” She opened another. “And this one’s called Gambler’s Oasis. That’s where you place the NBA bets.” She elbowed Justice. “But my favorite’s the surf gambling.”
Ginger held one of my bikini bottoms against her pelvis and swayed hula dance style as Papaw scratched his jaw, his eyes not leaving Ginger. She stopped swaying and yelled at Bobbie. “You are going to go broke with those gambling sites.”
“Am not!”
“How’d you get started in all this?” Justice asked.
“I started small. At first I got money from odd jobs like walking dogs and selling mistletoe door to door. I invested everything. All the money gets invested. Now I’ve got a business on Fiverr where I teach people how to write Tinder ads. Some people haven’t got a clue.” She clapped her hands together. “You need to see the website I helped Lola set up for her business.” I drifted to the counter while Bobbie pulled up my Etsy store. The vibrant colors filled the screen, and Justice smiled.
“Wow, totally cool.” He placed a warm hand on my arm, and our eyes met. A tingling swept up the back of my neck. “I always knew you were talented, but these styles are something else.”
“Lola’s sending her patterns to Mystic Seaweed,” Bobbie said. “Somebody on the design team’s all hot and heavy …” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I mean they might buy them.”
Justice looked at me long and hard as though seeing me for the first time. His gaze seared my soul, and I hoped he didn’t notice the heat rise to my cheeks. I swallowed hard and did everything but fan myself. “They’d be idiots if they didn’t offer you big money. Then Bobbie can help you invest it.”
Bobbie pointed her finger at me. “Exactly what I’ve been telling you.” Bobbie sat up straight and motioned to the laptop. “All Lola needs is around fifty grand or so and then she can start her own business.” She shrugged. “Maybe the Mystic Seaweed deal would do it.”
“That’s only if they like my stuff,” I said.
“Seriously Lola,” Justice said. “I love your designs. Maybe you can sell more in the shop, and we can work together, and I’ll see if any other surf shops would be interested.”
I held up a hand. “I’ve got it covered.” When I saw the crestfallen look on his face, I amended my statement. “Thanks for the offer, though.” Who did he think he was offering to help with my business? Did he think he could just stroll in here and take over after six years? I forced myself to take a deep breath. I needed to be here to help Papaw. Our community was small. Everyone helped one another.
As we all worked together that day, I couldn’t take my eyes off Justice. There was a new dimension to him since the last time we’d seen each other at nineteen.
He was a man now.
A very handsome man.
Justice stood tall with the athletic grace of a professional surfer. He moved like a dancer. I sucked in my breath at the way he held his broad shoulders back and held his head high. His sable hair fell almost to his shoulders and I wanted to run my fingers through it to see if it felt the way I remembered. Silky and unmanageable. His broad shoulders filled out his T-shirt with the muscular definition worthy of a male model and when he reached a top shelf, and his shirt rode up, I was treated to the most delicious view of his ripped abs.
Holy smokes!
I wanted to run my tongue along his six-pack and work my hands underneath his jeans until I felt his deliciously hard cock.
Jesus Cristo. I was in trouble.
But there was that other aspect to Justice, the same one I loved when we’d dated. Everyone loved him. He treated customers with wit and humor, joking with them like they were old friends.
“Come on, Justice,” Bobbie said, tugging on his sleeve. “I’ll help you straighten the window display.”
He stood up and followed her with a small salute. “Yes’m, boss.”
She raised a finger as she walked. “It’s just that I know how designs look best. You’ve got to get the colors meshed just right.”
During a lull in the shop, the five of us gathered around the counter.
“How long have you had the Pinto?” Cliff asked Ginger. “Sweet little ride is what I always said.”
She licked her lips. “I’ve seen you working on cars, and I bet you know just what that little ride needs. A man’s touch.”
“If you ever need help …”
“There’s something so elegant about a classic car.” Her perfectly manicured hand touched his forearm and squeezed. “They don’t make them like they used to.”
Cliff cleared his throat. “You still working at the Grind and Gossip?”
“Yep,” Ginger said. “I also got me a new gig at The Booty Shop.”
Cliff’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Really?”
“The money’s good and, well don’t laugh, but I’m determined to master that pole. I’m not very good at it, but I’m going to be the best darn pole dancer in town if it kills me.”
“That would be a rather extreme reaction,” Cliff said.
She threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, Cliff. You’re such a hoot.” She gazed at him through mascaraed eyes. “Why don’t you come down and watch the show sometime?”
“Ginger!” Bobbie said. “Cliff doesn’t want to know about your night job.”
“Yes he does. Lighten up, Bobbie. You’d think you were eighty-five, not fourteen, the way you carry on.”
“It’s okay,” Cliff said. His fingertips grazed his jawline. “I’d love to come watch the show.”
Ginger winked. “I’ll make sure you get a front row seat.”
At the end of the day Justice rang the final sale.
“Your suits were a hit,” he said to me. “Sold every single last one.” He laid a hand over his heart. “They are beautiful. Just like you.”
I ran a jerky hand through my hair. Was Justice flirting with me? No way was he worming his way back into my heart. As easy as it would’ve been to fall under his spell, it was going to take a lot more than a few compliments to gain my trust again.
Finally, Justice counted the till. I knew we didn’t come close to our goal, but we all held o
ur breaths just the same. “Just over ten grand. Dammit. We need another forty grand.”
Bobbie patted his shoulder. “It’s okay. We’ll figure out a way.”
His eyebrows knit together. “Maybe Devin will give me an extension.”
He didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell, but I held my tongue.
My chest felt heavy thinking about the shop his uncle had built meeting with a wrecking ball.
Justice inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. “No fucking way is he taking the shop.”
Seven
Justice
“Miss my sparkling personality already?”
Devin sat back in his holier-than-thou leather chair wearing a pair of designer sunglasses even though we were inside.
I sat forward and cleared my throat. “So, here’s the deal. How about if I give you ten grand cash now and you give me an extension?”
He slowly removed his shades. “How long of an extension?”
“Sixty days?”
He stood up. “You obviously didn’t go to Stanford business school. Got too much grease under your fingernails or has it gone to your brain?” He placed his palms flat on the desk and leaned forward. “I’m afraid my plans can’t wait that long. No can do.”
I forced myself to take a calming breath. “Forty-five days?”
He shook his head but couldn’t suppress an ugly smirk. Opening his top drawer, he extracted a file and slapped it on the polished wooden desk. “Sorry. I’ve got a contract. I hold the mortgage on the shop. Or did you not understand the first time I told you?”
I exhaled and looked at the ceiling. “Come on, Dev. We used to be friends. Can’t you work with me?”
His mouth formed a firm line. “Old friends? You knew I wanted Lola and you stole her right out from under me.”
This time I was the one to laugh. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.” I threw my hands in the air. “When we were twelve? You’ve been holding a grudge that long?”
He folded his arms, and his face turned the slightest shade of pink. “Okay, maybe it’s not because of Lola. Business is business.” He jabbed a finger at the contract. “A deal’s a deal. If you come up with the fifty grand in thirty days, you’re home free.”
Where the hell was I going to get that kind of money? Devin and I stared at each other for long seconds, the tension in the room thick. Finally, I spoke, feeling like an idiot, like a beggar standing on a street corner with a tin can. “Isn’t there some way we can work this out?”
He sat down in his chair and stared at me, his eyes cold. I watched a redness creep up his neck and make its way to his face. “Why would I want to make things easy for you?” He slammed his fist down on the desk hard, and I flinched, my adrenaline spiking. His voice was so loud I thought the whole office would hear. “Your uncle is the reason my father’s dead!”
“Whoa. Slow down, man.“
His extremities shook, and his skin looked mottled. He pulled his lips back, baring his gleaming white teeth and he stabbed a finger at me. “Your family, the oh-so-righteous Hamilton’s, framed my dad.”
I held up a hand. “That’s not what happened.”
He folded his arms tightly across his chest, his body rigid. “Really? What happened?” He picked up a hand exerciser and squeezed it so tight I thought the thing would break. “Explain it to me, Justice. I’d really like to know the lies you grew up with.”
I covered my eyes with one hand and took a deep calming breath.
Devin’s father had owned the only other competing surf shop in our small town. We all grew up together and my uncle Seth had been friends with Devin’s dad.
Until around the time we were teenagers, and Uncle Seth found out who Devin’s dad really was. “I’m worried, Justice,” he’d told me. “Something’s not right over there. I see kids hanging around the shop who look like they’re high all the time. I don’t mean to judge but some of them kids need to quit wearing those baggy pants that hang down around their butts and cut their hair once in a while. Look like trouble to me is all I’m saying.”
Uncle Seth and Devin’s father used the same glassing shop—the place that covered over the surfboards with fiberglass and resin after they’d been shaped. One day my uncle had been in the bathroom of the glassing shop and overheard a whispered conversation between the glasser and Devin’s dad. They’d been discussing their little scheme—the transporting of cocaine inside surfboards by cutting out a hole in the board, inserting bags of the drugs, and then glassing over the board. They even had some chemicals they used to throw the drug-sniffing dogs off track.
“I do not like this, Justice. Don’t like it at all. I’m going to find out what the hell’s happening and then turn the dude in.”
Uncle Seth went on a recon mission, arriving at the glasser’s early, parking his car around the corner, and eavesdropping. One day he finally saw the operation going down in the wee hours as he hid behind the dumpster while the drugs were hauled out of a van. “Dang, Justice. I had to pee so bad that morning, but I made myself stick it out till I saw what they were doing. Surprised I didn’t get caught. I stood on a crate outside the window and peeked in. What do you know? Sure enough, there was a surfboard all carved out, and damn if they didn’t stuff those bags of coke inside while they were drinking their morning joe just as cool as you please. No way am I letting our town go down with that kind of bad blood.”
Devin and I were seventeen when Uncle Seth blew the whistle, and the shit storm that ensued was enough to make the covers of not only all the local papers, but even USA Today.
Devin’s dad had been sentenced to thirty years in the slammer. But he never made it past the first couple years before he pissed somebody off enough that they took a razor to him.
I said to Devin, “Dude. It’s not my fault your dad was running drugs. He would’ve been out of prison if—”
“He was framed!” Devin stood up fast, his body tense, and I thought he was going to come around the desk and slug me. He snatched the hand exerciser and hurled it against the wall where it thwacked with violence taking a chunk out of the plaster. “It’s your goddamn uncle’s fault!” He looked at me with steely eyes. “You and your family are going down Hamilton. No fucking way am I letting you waltz back into town and ruin my life. I’ve got plans for that shop.” He folded his arms tightly. “And you haven’t got a word to say about it.”
Devin pushed away from his desk and stood by the window, his back to me. All I heard was the sharp inhale and exhale of his breath. Then, he twisted around and took long strides toward me. Spit flew from his mouth as he shouted, “I should’ve strung your uncle up by the balls when I had the chance.” He gave me a rictus smile of repulsion, his voice taunting. “Too bad that snake got to him before I did.”
My jaw clenched so hard that my head hurt. I stood up fast and faced Devin. “If you ever … ever say another word about my uncle, so help me God, I’ll—”
He jerked his sleeves up his arms quickly. “You’ll what?”
Damn him. When I thought of Uncle Seth, I forced myself to slow this scene the fuck down. The last thing I needed was a fistfight with Devin. I’d beat him to a pulp and land myself in jail. My breathing came in long, shallow pulls and my voice was tight when I spoke. “I’ll get you the goddamn money.”
He pointed to the door. His voice shook, and a vein in the middle of his forehead throbbed. “Get the hell out of my office. Old buddy.”
Eight
Justice
“How’d it go?” Lola asked as I walked into the shop.
I was still reeling from the conversation with Devin, but I didn’t want to go there. I gave a small smile. “Did you bring a boatload of suits? Like forty grand worth?”
Her shoulders slumped. “Shoot. He didn’t go for it.”
Papaw stood behind the counter while Bobbie sat on a stool, peering at her laptop.
“What the hell are we going to do?” I said. “I can’t give up.” I wal
ked to Bobbie and touched her shoulder. “Got any hot tips on the NBA?”
“If the Laker’s had a team, I’d say yes. But sadly, not to the tune of forty grand. We’ll figure something out.”
Bobbie went back to some of the surf sites she loved to browse and then her fingers stopped in a frozen hover over the keyboard. Her eyes widened, and she sucked in her breath. Then she pushed her glasses up her nose and pointed to the screen. “Whoa. Look at this, guys.”
I peeked over her shoulder.
Bobbie let out a gasp. “It’s a contest.”
A small town in Northern California was in the process of opening a man-made, state-of-the-art surfing wave pool.
I scratched my head. “I’ve heard about that place. Wave pools are a big deal these days. Freaking perfect waves all made from a machine. Everything from double overhead tubes to mushburgers.”
Bobbie jabbed a finger excitedly at the screen. “You’re not paying attention.” She bounced up and down in her chair. “It’s a contest!”
The three of us leaned into the screen and began to read.
Enter the Knight’s Ferry Valentine’s Day Wave Pool Extravaganza Tandem Surf Contest and Win Big!
Hey there all you wannabe zillionaires!
Help us celebrate our ribbon cutting ceremony on Valentine’s Day!
Do you have what it takes to compete and win in our tandem wave pool extravaganza?
We here at the Knight’s Ferry Wave Pool put our heads together and came up with the most killer publicity stunt in the history of surfing.
We know we’ve got tons of talented couples out there who are just dying to show off their moves and groovy lifts.
So we talked to some of our sponsors, and they’re just as excited as we are to give away some huge winnings to the numero uno tandem surfing couple this Valentine’s Day.
Riptide of Romance: A Fake Marriage Sports Romance (Pleasure Point Series) Page 5
