Sea Star Legacy

by Carolyn Forrest

  Like the sudden buildup of a wall of water before a storm, Luke saw the intensity of his own emotions reflected in Sandra’s features. He knew he was flirting with disaster and with Ben’s daughter of all people. He had never been lucky in love and he sure didn’t want to find out if his luck hadn’t changed. An occasional fling was one thing, but love? Love was the kind of emotion that turned your life upside down causing you to change in all sorts of unfathomed directions.

  Supporting her weight, he withdrew a step and feebly smiled down at her. “Let me get my information on the regatta and we can go over it.” Leaving the room to find the necessary papers, he noted the uncertain expression on Sandra’s face.

  Sandra watched Luke stride into the living room carrying a bright yellow folder. He wore a somber expression on his face. A shadow now clouded his disposition. Had she finally gotten her point across to him that she wasn’t interested? She wondered as her heart plummeted.

  Rubbing an index finger along her kiss roughened lips, she thought about her father. What would he have said about her attraction to Luke? She knew what her mother would have to say if she knew.

  Dropping the folder to the coffee table, Luke stood over her like a vulture watching his wounded prey. He’d hurt her feelings he was sure, coming on like a Romeo and then as cold as a fish. It was for her own good, though, he told himself.

  “Can I get your wine for you?” he asked hesitantly.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  The wine stuck in her throat like thick molasses. She took a second sip to wash down the first.

  “So, the regatta will run the 17th and 18th of October?”

  “Yes.” The tormented sailor gauged his approach with caution. Choosing to sit a good foot away from the source of his anxiety on the couch, he reached for the folder and opened it for her.

  “Here is a copy of the flyer I’m having printed.” He lifted the passed up for her to accept, being careful not to move an inch closer. As she accepted the papers in her hand, he found himself not wanting to release them. Smiling with a nervousness born from past failure, he pried open his grasp ceremoniously one digit at a time.

  Sandra examined the document while trying to ignore the arctic chill projecting from this man who had rescued her only weeks earlier from the bay. This man who like the emerald coast, remained the embodiment of misunderstanding for her. She shouldn’t have offered to pick him up at his place. Ever since their meeting, she hadn’t been able to predict much less control her emotions whenever Luke was near her. Had her father had the same insidious effect on her mother? You could be certain, her mother would never have admitted it, if he had.

  “What do you think?” Impatience sounded in Luke’s voice.

  “Should we go over these papers some other time?” she asked.

  “What do you think of the flyer?”

  “It looks fine. In fact, whoever the artist was did a wonderful job.”

  “Beth did all the art work.”

  “She’s very talented.”

  “I agree. She should be studying commercial art in school rather than tagging around the shop. She’s not interested, though.” Luke stood and shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants.

  Sandra engaged the sailor’s overcast gaze. His jaw was hard set, his lips pursed tight.

  “What did you want me to contribute to this gala event? She asked, trying to change the subject.

  “I’ve been noticing the way you handle your promotional materials for the Sea Breeze. You’ve have a talent for marketing. I was hoping you’d give me some ideas on how we can get the word about the regatta.”

  “You want to pick my brain?” she asked with one eyebrow raised.

  “Yes, and we could also use some help getting the registration set up.”

  “What needs to be done on the registration?” she queried.

  “We’ll need to put a pre-race packet together with registration forms, flyers, meal tickets and sponsor information.”

  “That’s a lot of work to be done in the next month. What’s the expense account on this affair?”

  “Whatever you want to make it,” he replied with an impish grin.

  “That’s generous, but not very wise,” Sandra stated and grimaced.

  “Not really. I thought you’d be donating the funds.”

  “Your only sponsor is me?” she questioned, not liking the way the plans were shaping up at all. “What makes you think, I can afford such an extravagance?”

  “Ben always pitched in for a large part of the cost,” he said with a shrug. He and I usually took turns running the club. He sponsored the race in the fall and I picked up the one in the spring.

  “Well, I’m not my father. Those types of decisions are mine now.” She could remember seeing the large cash donation to the regatta club when she had gone over the books, but hadn’t given the reason for the expenditure much thought. “Is the club a none profit?”

  “No. There was never any call for it to be. I always took the expenses as a business advertising expense.” Luke tilted his head and looked at her suspiciously. “Are you having trouble with the shop?” he asked moving closer and stroking the middle of her back.

  The intimacy of his touch fueled her rage. “That’s not the point.”

  “I’d be happy to float you a loan or even buy the Sea Breeze from you if you’ve changed your mind,” he offered and dropped his hand away.

  “That is generous of you, but I am fine.” Sandra balled her hands into fist and sat on them. “The Sea Breeze is financially sound and it’ll stay that way. Placing the folder onto the table, she glared at him. He didn’t even believe she could run a business. Had he included her in on the regatta plans just to insure she paid for the lion’s share of the cost? she wondered.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to offend you.”

  “Quit trying to soothe my feelings. It is too obvious what you’re up to.”

  “Among your other talents, you’re clairvoyant?” he asked, in a monotone voice. Luke rose from the sofa and paced towards the window. As he faced Sandra, she could feel the chill in his stare.

  A sickening thought stuck in her mind suddenly. Could Luke be the evening caller? He had said, he wanted to buy the shop. Lord knows, if he were the only dealer between Panama City and the border, his business would only have to benefit.

  She stared point-blank into the midnight blue of his eyes. “What about your finances? You’d love it wouldn’t you if I’d simply move on and close down the shop?”

  “Why do you keep acting as if we have to compete against one another?” he asked with confusion in his tone of voice.

  “I’m sure you’d love it if we didn’t compete. If I don’t compete with you, you can simply stand back and wait to scoop up the Sea Breeze for nearly nothing.”

  Sandra’s stomach winced as she saw the anger building in his features.

  “Your father and I were best friends.” His voice sounded worn and raspy like an old sail being beaten by a strong wind.

  Learning against the arm of the divan, he stared at her. His jaw was clenched tight. She could see his pulse beating in the temple of his forehead.

  “Are you listening to me?” he asked, abruptly. “Ben and I didn’t compete against each other. Ben was . . . like a father to me.” He turned and stood directly in front of Sandra. Grasping her arms, he glared down at her. “Now, if you want to play this game of cut throat, we can. However, be forewarned; only one of us will come out standing. It’s not a game to enter into unless you’re willing to lose your own business in the process.”

  Luke released her from his grip, but not his icy stare. Holding her head high in defiance, she shifted her weight on the edge of the couch. How dare he tell her how the business world worked. He was no better than the rest. He thought of her as incapable of handling the company. She didn’t believe Ben Harris had the same attitude regardless of what Luke or Bernice said.

  “I’m not the one playing hardball here
, mister. All I want is to make an honest living.”

  Relinquishing his gaze, he paced back to the window and stared out at the overcast sky. Not even a glimmer of starlight could be seen. Luke fell silent. Sandra waited, unwilling to fracture the quiet calm before yet another impending storm.

  As his footsteps echoed across the wood floor, she caught her breath. A loose board creaked its disapproval. The sound of each approaching step sent a nervous tremor up Sandra’s spine. Her heart beat in an erratic panic. Stay calm, her mind whispered. Don’t let him know he has the upper hand.

  With the confidence of a stalking cat, he sat next to her and reached for her hand. Impulsively, Sandra jerked away with the same conviction as she had slammed the phone receiver down so many times the night before.

  “Sandra, I don’t want your business. All I want from you is your friendship. If we work together, we can both have strong dealerships and an active sailing community.”

  Pivoting her knees around, she faced him. As she studied his somber expression, she realized every muscle in her body was poised to flee. Inhaling deeply, she tried to relax.

  “Do you really think we could work together?” she asked trying to mask the distrust in her voice.

  “Yes, I do.” His eyes brightened and a smile highlighted his face. “Listen, why don’t you come up with a good estimate of how much a first rate advertising campaign would cost for the regatta? We’ll discuss it and if it’s anywhere near what I can afford, I’ll pay half,” Luke stated, placing an exaggerated accent on the end of his statement.

  “Sounds fair,” she conceded.

  “If you take the information with you, could you get me an estimate in a couple of days? We’ll need to get on it, as soon as possible.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she replied halfheartedly. Sandra’s nerves were shot and the lack of sleep the night before was wearing on her. She picked up the wine glass and swallowed the now warm wine. One way or another, she would have to put a stop to the relentless caller.

  Luke’s hand lifted her chin up. The haze in her mind cleared as her skin tingled from the warmth of his touch. It was difficult to imagine Luke as the prankster though he too in his own way contributed to her insomnia.

  “Hey, we have a party to attend remember?” he asked as he let his hand fall.

  Turning back towards her wine glass, Sandra stared into the crystal. “I really don’t feel like going, now.”

  “We should at least make an appearance,” Luke insisted. “I’ve already told Bernice we’d be there.”

  “I suppose we’d better go, then.” Sandra thought of the plump woman who had won her father’s affections. In the last month, she’d come to enjoy her company. Bernice never minced her words and always had a jolly outlook. Two traits which she wouldn’t use to describe Luke.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Sandra’s car slid to an abrupt stop in one of the more distant parking spots of the Trader’s Cove. Luke released a muffled sigh of relief and opened the door. Ducking his head down, he eased his cramped legs out one at a time. He felt as though he was emerging from a cocoon rather than a car. The silence of the woman beside him combined with his inability to move, made him curse having agreed to let her drive.

  As he straightened to his full height, Luke noticed the green eyed source of his discomfort watching him with satisfaction. He might have been mad except for the warm smile she sent his way. The light caught the golden strawberry highlights of her hair while a childlike dimple showed its presence.

  “You find this amusing, I suppose?” he said, good naturedly.

  “A bit. I’m so accustom to accommodating myself to a man’s world, I forgot it could work the other way around.”

  “Well, it would help if they’d built that car of yours for grown adults.”

  “I beg your pardon,” she said with a smile and giggle. “The car is perfect for me.”

  Laughing, he stared into Sandra’s face. She was radiant when she smiled. Amusement shimmered in the amber flecks of her green eyes. They both grew silent. With the force of a hurricane out at sea, Luke suddenly felt drawn to her. He longed to run his hand through her sun kissed locks, to nibble at her full lips and crush her body against his.

  Fighting free of the spell, he looked past Sandra. Bernice was coming to the door. Her face brightened as she noticed them through the glass. Swinging the door open, she sauntered out. The shell gravel of the parking lot crackled under the weight of her low slung pumps.

  “I was a wondering where you two had gone off to,” she said, as she ambled toward Sandra and gave her a big hug. Her attention turning to Luke, she patted him on the arm and exclaimed, “There’s still plenty of barbecue.”

  Taking both Luke and Sandra in arm, Bernice lead them into the restaurant and over to the serving line. The aroma of mesquite smoked meats instantly made Sandra hungry.

  “It smells delicious,” Sandra said, eyeing the various cuts of beef and pork, coleslaw, potato salad, onions and pickles.

  “I don’t know if it’ll be as good as what you get back home, but it’ll stick to your ribs.” Bernice laughed heartily at her pun and squeezed Sandra’s shoulder.

  “I’m sure it’ll be wonderful,” Sandra replied meaning every word. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  “You’re welcome anytime, honey, anytime. I’ve enjoyed havin’ someone around who’s Ben’s kin.” Bernice’s gaze grew distant as she continued. “I’d better go see to getting some more potato salad out here. It’s going faster than my cook, Ernie’s Cinnamon rolls on Sunday morning.

  Scanning the room, Sandra tried to locate Luke. He was standing near the crowded dining area talking with a woman she hadn’t met. From the high pitched laughter overheard across the room, she surmised the woman was not discussing the weather or the boating industry for that matter.

  She didn’t care who he was flirting with. Still, she would have expected him to show a bit more selectivity. Sandra’s thoughts were interrupted when she realized Luke was staring back at her. Ignoring him, Sandra put her full attention into filling her plate.

  The sound of a man’s approaching footsteps, followed by the onerous smell of musky cologne stopped Sandra short of dipping a hefty helping of barbecue sauce onto her plate. She lifted her eyes. “Hank, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Isn’t this where all the fashionable people go on Friday night?” he replied with a broad grin. “There’s a table over in the corner. Would you care to join me?”

  “How can I refuse such gentlemanly company?” she joked.

  “Indeed, how?” Hank offered her his arm in exaggerated gallantry to lead her to the table.

  Grasping his elbow with one hand and holding her plate with the other, she allowed Hank to guide her to the only empty table. After seating her, he sat down and looked out over the room. His eyes pointed out Luke and the now giggling female on the other side of the room. “Did you and Luke come together?”

  “Yes. We had some business to discuss before the party so I gave him a lift over.” She tried to explain in a convincing manner. However, as she looked over at the happy couple, she wondered if she indeed was satisfied with her intentions towards the handsome sailor.

  Hank shrugged his shoulders dismissing the incident. “I guess that leaves you and me then.”

  She couldn’t help wondering if Luke would notice her companion and come join her. Sandra searched the crowd where he had been standing. Surely, Luke hadn’t already left.

  Hank cut loose an uproarious laugh. Looking back through the crowd, she found no apparent reason for laughing and no Luke.

  “What’s so funny?” she yelled over the mixed hum of the country western music and loud conversation.

  He stuck out a short stocky hand and pointed along the feet of the crowd. There on the floor laid Luke. Sprawled out, leaning against his elbows with two children sitting astride him, he was laughing.

  “What happened?”

  “Bernice’s grandchildr
en,” Hank said with dismay. His eyes took on a serious haze as the lines of his face hardened. “I can’t remember their names. I always steer clear of them when they’re here. One of the monsters squirted me with ketchup last time I tried to be friendly.

  Sandra covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. The seriousness of the day evaporated as she thought of the buccaneer sitting next to her, red faced with catchup and her tall slender sailor lying muddled upon the tile floor.

  “What are you smirking at?” Hank asked, his cheeks lightly flushed.

  “Absolutely nothing. I simply enjoy observing active children at play.” Looking back at Luke, Sandra noticed he had regained his composure to a sitting position. His face reflected his delight in the children’s youthful antics. The two toddlers remained astride his lap, laughing in hysterics. The buxom, giggling woman, who had been with Luke earlier, was standing next to Bernice. She looked quite perturbed by the disturbance.

  A young woman with dark hair the color of Bernice’s stepped from the crowd and hauled the two youngsters off Luke. Her face revealed her fatigue, while her eyes gave testimony to a mother’s patience.

  “Bernice tells me Miranda has a tough time of it,” Hank muttered under his breath during a lull in the music. “What with her husband always traveling and living so far from family.”

  “Why doesn’t Bernice move to where her daughter lives?”

  “I imagine she doesn’t want to let go of the Trader’s Cove.” Hank shrugged his shoulders and addressed his plate with renewed interest. “You know how it is being a business owner. No one would look after the motel the way she would.”

  “There are day, it wouldn’t take much of an offer to send me running back home,” Sandra complained as her mind wandered to the six rental boats she would have to clean up by herself tomorrow morning. She’d never really ever considered leaving though.

  “If it ever gets too much to take, let me know. You have a neighbor who’s willing to listen to your every worry. I might even consider making you an offer on the Sea Breeze.”