by Terri Osburn
Whistling as he strolled through the front door of the Anchor Inn, he rang the bell when he reached the front desk. Yvonne popped out from a back room almost immediately.
“Good morning, Mr. Navarro.”
“We’ve been over this, Yvonne. First names.” Randy leaned both elbows on the counter, saying with a smile, “You make me feel old when you call me mister.”
“Sorry,” she said. “Force of habit. Mr. Edwards said to send you in.”
Stepping back, he asked, “Does he insist you call him Mr. Edwards?”
Yvonne graced him with a bright smile. “I insist on it. Some habits are harder to break than others. Referring to my boss by his first name is downright impossible.”
Randy had to admit, he couldn’t imagine Sam Edwards being on a first-name basis with his employees either. The man was amicable enough, but he had a formal air about him. As if he were all business all the time. In fact, Randy had never seen him in a real social situation that wasn’t a Merchants Society function.
Reaching Sam’s office, Randy knocked on the half-open door.
“Come on in,” Sam said from inside. As Randy made his way in, the hotelier looked up from an open laptop. “Right on time, as always,” he said, standing and extending a hand.
“Lucky for me,” Randy said, “there was no traffic.”
Sam let out a chuckle. “Another perk of living on this tiny little island.”
There had been wild speculation across Anchor regarding Sam’s reasons for setting up shop instead of selling off his inherited property. Whatever his reasons, the small size seemed to be a pro instead of a con.
“Yes, indeed.” Randy took the chair offered. “Have you heard from Prime Destinations since Rebecca King left?”
“I have.” The man across the desk unbuttoned his suit coat. “She’s already turned in the article so we’re good for the June issue. Last I heard, they were still deciding on what images to use, but my understanding is that Jude gave them more than enough shots to work with.”
“Jude wasn’t the most serious person I’ve ever met, but he seemed to know what he was doing behind the camera.”
“That’s good,” Sam said. “We need this article to make Anchor look like the tourist destination.”
“And that leads into why I’m here.” Randy crossed an ankle over his knee. “As I’m guessing you know, Joe Dempsey and Beth Chandler are getting married on the deck of Anchor Adventures in a couple weeks.”
“That’s all anyone seems to be talking about lately,” Sam said. “I’m not one to listen to gossip, but this wedding is inescapable.”
The Dempseys were an important part of the island, so the talk made sense.
“A few of the out-of-town guests are staying here, aren’t they?” Randy asked.
Sam reached for a green folder from the stack to his left. “Dempsey wedding. Five rooms reserved from Wednesday through Monday. Looks like all the details are set.”
Randy didn’t know if Will would need to confirm the rooms, but he’d fill her in that everything was a go the next time he saw her. Which if he had his way, would be tonight.
“What do you know about destination weddings?” Randy asked, dropping his foot and leaning forward. “Ever managed a hotel that specialized in them?”
“Can’t say that I have.” Sam dropped the folder back on the pile. “Are we talking Vegas and drive-thru chapels here?”
That was definitely not what he was talking about. “I’m not talking about rushed elopements or glitzy, booze-induced nuptials.” Sitting forward in his chair, Randy continued. “I’m talking about making Anchor a desired wedding destination. Small, on the water, compact, with all the amenities right here. Almost like a cottage industry for the off-season.”
“With all the amenities? As in the cake, food, and flowers?” Sam leaned his elbows on his desk, revealing Randy had piqued his interest. “Maybe have the wedding and honeymoon all in one place?”
“Now you’re catching on. My venue would be one option, or maybe a spot on the beach. There’s the park, with the draping trees to make it more intimate.” Randy rose from the chair to pace the small space. “Nearly every business on the island would benefit. If we got a couple of nice-sized ones, we might even get a bridal magazine to give us some coverage.”
Sam remained quiet for several seconds, one finger tapping his chin. “This idea has merit. Though we don’t seem like the wedding coordinator types, we could create an office that would handle the details. Put someone with solid organizational skills and knowledge of the island in charge.”
Randy hadn’t thought of a special office to run the weddings, but he liked it. In fact, it would be the perfect business for Will. The person would be a kind of ambassador for the island, representing all the businesses and making sure the potential couples knew their options.
“It’s not something we could implement before the season starts,” Randy said. “But we could work out the details over the summer and hit it hard at the end of the season. Get the Merchants Society to pay for ads in a couple magazines.”
Sam pulled a notepad from the top drawer on his desk. “The next Merchants meeting is supposed to be the day before the wedding, but I’ve had some requests to push it back a week. If we do that, then we’ll have this wedding fresh in everyone’s mind when we pitch the idea.”
Something had told Randy that Sam would be the person to see the potential in his idea. Will’s belief in Randy’s vision for Joe and Beth’s wedding had given him enough confidence to set up this meeting. The fact that if this came to fruition Will could have a good reason to stay on Anchor long term was an added bonus.
Not that they were working toward anything permanent. Will was very clear on that point. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t change her mind. Eventually.
“How about the week after the wedding we meet again, work out exactly how we’ll pitch it, and then hit them at the meeting?”
Sam replaced the cap on his pen. “Sounds like a plan to me. And this is giving me ideas for my smaller property. I’m getting close to having the Anchor Inn where I want it, so I’ll be changing focus soon. Now I have an idea of what could set the Sunset Harbor Inn apart from every other hotel around.”
“Like I said, this could benefit all of us if we do it right.” Of that, Randy had no doubt. Coming for a wedding would require more than a weekend stay. The longer the tourists stayed, the more money they pumped into the local economy.
Now he had to convince Will to consider the idea. She was a pro with numbers, had Beth and Joe’s wedding planned down to the napkin folds, and knew nearly every business on the island intimately. She was the perfect person for the job.
“I’m not staying here forever!” Will yelled, her own voice echoing back from the rafters.
For some insane reason, she’d agreed to be Sid’s boat for the day. On Sunday, the little wench wouldn’t accept her help. Today she ordered Will to stand in the middle of the garage, arms extended for what felt like an eternity.
“Don’t blow a gasket, woman. I’m almost done.” Sid extended her measuring tape, only to let it snap shut as she took notes once again. She repeated the process over and over, moving Will forward and back. “A couple from the ends and we’re done.”
“Explain this to me again,” Will said. “How am I a boat?”
“Your height and arm span work perfectly as a stand-in for the smaller boats in the harbor.” The tape snapped again. “I want to make sure all the tools that require a cord or that will be attached to the walls will extend far enough for me to work the smaller crafts.”
Great. First Rebecca the reporter had pointed out the expanse of Will’s hips, and now she was considered comparable to a small water vessel. Nothing like a boost to the old self-esteem.
“My arms are about to fall off,” Will said, dropping them to her sides. “When do all these phantom tools arrive?” The garage looked a thousand times better than it had when Sid bought the place, but w
as still mostly empty.
“Middle of May,” Sid answered, without looking up from her clipboard. Biting her bottom lip, she measured between beams on the far wall, then quickly scribbled something down. “I want the layout set and ready to go when the shipment comes in.”
Sid was talking faster than normal, fidgeting with the ink pen, and staring at the wall as if it might talk to her. From the looks of things, these tools must be the last step to getting the shop open for business.
“Sid.”
“Huh?” she said, measuring the same two beams again.
“Sid!” Will said louder, finally gaining her attention. “The place is going to be great. Stop worrying.”
“You really think so?” she asked, dropping the clipboard on the counter and plopping onto the stool beside it. Her gaze took in the garage from top to bottom. “If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what I’ll do.” Meeting Will’s eyes, she said, “This is the only dream I’ve ever had besides Lucas. Maybe getting both is asking too much.”
Will was always taken off guard by Sid’s cute moments. The woman was 99 percent confidence, so when that 1 percent of vulnerability peeked through, it was like watching a baby panda waddle for the first time.
Taking the stool beside Sid’s, Will perused the room much as Sid had. “You have a solid reputation in this area, and you have an incredible support group behind you. The business will be great. There are no limits on how many dreams we get to have. Not as long as we’re willing to work for them when they come.” With a smile, she added, “And you’re the hardest working woman I know, second only to myself.”
Sid gave Will an elbow that nearly shoved her off the stool. So much for cute.
After a moment of silence, Sid asked, “So what’s your dream?”
The question took her by surprise. What was her dream? Once upon a time she’d wanted to get married and have a family. Settle into her own home, where she would live for years. No more moving around. She would spend her weekends at the ball field cheering on her kids in soccer or baseball or whatever they chose to pursue.
And she’d come so close to realizing it. Or thought she had. In truth, she’d dodged a bullet, if not the fist. And now she was further from her dream than ever.
“Gee,” Sid said, pulling Will from her far-off thoughts. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
She hadn’t even realized the tears were falling until Sid pointed them out. “I’m sorry. I have no idea where these came from.”
“There’s some serious shit in your past, isn’t there?” This was as close to a personal question as Sid had ever asked.
“Yeah,” she said, letting some honesty creep in. “Serious shit. But that’s depressing and I’d rather talk about how awesome this place is going to be. Or the wedding. Anything more cheerful.”
“Right. The wedding.” Sid sounded disappointed.
“What’s that about? You aren’t happy about the wedding?”
Sid shrugged. “It’s not that I’m not happy; it’s that I’m not really a part of it.”
“What do you mean?” Will asked. “You’re the maid of honor. Outside of being the bride, that’s as involved as you can get.”
“So I get to hold her flowers and make a toast, which I’m dreading since Lucas says I have to keep it clean, but I’m not helping at all. Shouldn’t I be doing more? Patty said that the maid of honor has all these duties and responsibilities, but I’m not doing squat.”
It hadn’t occurred to Will that Sid would want to do more. She was like the anti-girl. But there was that bit about her reading romance novels. And she did go all goopy when Lucas was around. Maybe there was estrogen in there somewhere. Under the motor oil and f-bombs.
“We still have the wedding shower to work out. I was going to talk to Beth about it, but if you want to take charge, then go for it.”
“Really?” Sid said, perking up as if she’d been given free rein over a parts store.
“Why not?” Will tried not to answer that question in her mind. “We were shooting for next Saturday afternoon, with the bachelorette party to follow.”
Sid hopped off the stool. “I can handle that. Leave it all to me.”
Will was happy to see Sid so enthusiastic, but not looking forward to telling Beth what she’d just done.
CHAPTER 19
Randy spent the entire day smiling. Between the activities of the previous night and his meeting with Sam, everything seemed to be falling into place. He must have looked goofier than usual since no fewer than three people had asked what he was so happy about.
He’d answered each with a wink and a grin, then went about his business. Not that he could keep his focus on anything other than memories of Will’s little red panties. Or the way her hair danced across his chest as she rode him. Then there was the way she’d clung to him as they said good-bye at his door.
If she hadn’t been so determined to leave, he’d have coaxed her back to bed. But there would be no leaving tonight. He had a plan.
Randy spotted Will the second he stepped through the front door of Dempsey’s. It was a stroke of luck that Joe had asked him if he wanted to grab a beer. Otherwise, he’d have had to come up with some other excuse to come see her.
“Hey there,” he said, taking up residence on the stool a tourist had vacated. “Good crowd.”
“It is,” Will said, keeping her eyes on the drink she was making. “Especially for a month before Memorial Day.” She finished off the drink with a cherry and disappeared down the bar without another word. Or even making eye contact.
We’re keeping things a secret, remember?
Randy really didn’t like that part. He knew the reason wasn’t because they were doing anything to be ashamed of, but there was only so long she could use Sid as her excuse. There was no doubt Will wouldn’t want to hurt Sid in any way, but there was more to this secrecy stuff. If no one knew what they were doing, then it was all in fun. No pressure. No commitment.
Then Randy remembered he’d spent more than ten years avoiding commitment like the clap. So why was he suddenly all gung ho about diving into one?
“You want a tea?” Will asked, snagging his attention.
“Sure.”
After removing the cap and flinging it into the garbage, she lowered her voice as she passed over the bottle. “What are you doing here?”
He considered saying to see you in order to get a reaction. Instead he said, “I’m here to have a drink with Joe. Is he in here somewhere?”
If she could play their relationship off, then so could he. In fact, he should be as adamant about the no commitment thing. Commitment meant more than fun in bed. More than enjoying the other person’s company and wanting to see her all the time, if only to catch a smile.
Wait, what?
“He’s back in the poolroom, where else would he be?” Will moved on to the next customer before Randy could respond. Maybe that was for the best.
Carrying his bottle high to squeeze through the crowd, Randy found Joe at a cocktail table near the front corner. “This place is crazy,” he said, taking a seat. “I guess this is what we’ve been hoping for, but I hate that they all seem to show up overnight.”
Joe stopped with his beer bottle halfway to his lips, then set it back on the table. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing,” Randy muttered, watching Phil Mohler, his least favorite Anchorite, sink a seven ball on the other side of the room.
“Bullshit. You don’t bitch often, so it’s easy to spot.” Joe crossed his arms on the table. “Spill.”
So much for keeping secrets. Maybe that’s what had him all tense. Having to act like he had something to hide. Joe wouldn’t tell anyone, not if Randy asked him not to.
“It’s Will,” he said, ignoring the guilt that came with the admission. He’d promised, but damn it, this crap was messing with his head.
“You two finally stop dancing around each other?” Joe asked, looking less than surprised.
“Dancing around each other?”
“I didn’t see it,” he said. “Beth had to point it out to me. But once she did, I couldn’t believe I’d missed it.”
Randy sat up straighter. “Missed what?”
Joe sipped his beer, then said, “The way you two look at each other. Like someone told you to eat your vegetables and you can’t help eyeing the fried chicken.” Randy raised a brow and Joe added, “Okay, that’s not the right way to put it when you’re involved, but you know what I mean. I get wanting something you don’t think you can have. Not the greatest experience, is it?”
“It’s not as if Will is engaged to someone else. I mean, there’s no reason we couldn’t do something. If we wanted.”
That wasn’t really telling Joe anything. He hadn’t admitted they’d had sex.
“Your innocent face needs work, bro.” Joe laughed. “So why are you two still acting like you barely like each other?”
Randy caved. “That’s the way Will wants it. Says Sid’s got it in her head I need a wife, and if she knows what we’re doing, she’ll cast Will in the role. That is apparently out of the question, though I’m still not sure why, so we have to keep everyone in the dark to keep Sid in the dark.”
“Whoa.” Joe sat back. “Did you hear what you just said?”
“I know it’s convoluted, but I don’t know how else to explain it.”
“Man, you said you’d be fine with Will becoming your wife.”
“What? I did not.” Randy replayed his explanation, catching what Joe referred to. “I only meant that there’s no reason we can’t make this more permanent…” Well, hell.
“How did we get from making googly eyes at each other to till death do us part?” For some reason, Joe was finding this conversation hysterical.
Randy felt nauseated.
“Nobody is taking any vows here. We’ve only spent one night together.”
