by Kay Correll
“You’d be easier to be with if you weren’t an actor.” She sent him a wry smile.
“I’m sorry this has upended your life so much, but I’m not sorry I met you, that I got to know you.”
“I’m not sorry for that part, either.”
He held both her small hands in his, staring down at them and her delicate wrists. Everything about this woman delighted him.
And that scared him.
A lot.
Whitney stared down at her hands, resting in Rick’s. His hands were firm and muscular, strong and lean. They were perfect.
As was his smile.
And his eyes.
And just about everything about him.
Except for that whole actor gig thing he had going on.
She looked up into those blue eyes that changed from sky blue to stormy blue depending on his emotions. For a moment she forgot what she was going to say. “I… oh, yes. Can I get you a drink? I have a few beers or a half bottle of red wine.”
“A beer sounds good.”
She got up and went into the kitchen to grab two bottles of beer. She wished they could go outside and sit on the deck. It was beautiful weather tonight, but she didn’t want to chance another photo of them going viral.
Especially one with him kissing her.
And she wanted him to kiss her again.
She walked over and handed him a bottle. She sat beside him on the sofa, and he draped an arm around her shoulder. So casual, so usual, and yet so foreign. Being with him was a mix of of-course-this-is-right and what-the-heck-am-I-doing.
“So, my sister is in town. And my grandmother.”
“I saw you in town with the twins yesterday.”
“You did?”
“I didn’t think it would be a very smart idea to come out and talk to you.”
“Yeah, probably not.” He scowled. “It’s complicated, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Anyway, Grandmere wanted me to ask you over for dinner tomorrow night. I understand if you’re busy or if you don’t want to be seen with me.” He took a sip of his beer. “But we might be able to figure out some way for you come over, but not be seen.”
“And how would that happen?”
“So you’ll come if I figure something out?” His eyes turned a cobalt shade of blue. “Grandmere wants to meet you, and I like to do what makes her happy.”
“I’d like to come if we can figure it out without it being another media event.”
“I’ll figure something out. I promise.”
And she believed him. He would figure out a way to make it happen.
Chapter 15
Late the next afternoon, Whitney glanced at the text message on her phone.
It’s all set. See you at six.
Well, that was cryptic. Was she just supposed to walk over to The Pink Ladies? She’d noticed a photographer still lounged under a live oak tree across the street from her house. Somehow she didn’t think he’d let her walk out of her house and not try to follow her.
The doorbell rang, and she went to answer the door, knowing that Mitch would have screened any visitors.
“Mere, hi.”
“Hey, yourself.” Merry slipped into the house wearing a large sun hat covering her hair—which was strange enough—but also a bright red wrap around her shoulders.
“I didn’t know you were coming. I’m going out tonight. I’m supposed to go to Rick’s.” She closed the door behind Merry.
“I know, I’m part of the plan.”
“What plan?”
“The plan where I leave the house and the photographer ignores me… only it’s really going to be you.”
“Huh?”
“Follow along,” Merry commanded. “Go put on that navy sundress you have. See, it looks a lot like this one, doesn’t it?” Merry dropped her wrap and spun around. “So, you put that on, and you wear this wrap and this hat. Then you’re going to sail out of the house and those silly reporters will think it’s me leaving.”
Whitney clapped her hands. “That’s a brilliant idea.”
“Don’t look at me. It was Rick’s. He called and asked if I’d help him set it up.” Merry gave her a gentle shove. “Go get dressed. Austin will be by here about six to pick you up and take you over to The Pink Ladies.”
Whitney broke into a grin. “I think this might work.”
“Of course it will. Have I ever let you down?”
An hour later, after changing into her navy dress, much makeup advice from Merry, and draping the bright red wrap around her shoulders, she was ready to go.
Merry handed her the sunhat, and she settled it on her head. With a flourish, Merry handed over a large pair of sunglasses. “No one will know it’s you and not me.”
Whitney hugged her friend. “You’re the best.”
“Make sure you tell Austin that.”
They walked to the door and Merry stood to the side and called out loudly, “Bye, Merry.”
Whitney grinned as she walked out the door. She got to the door of Austin’s car and turned back toward the cottage. “Bye, Whitney. See you soon.”
Whitney heard Austin chuckle as she slid into his car. “You and Merry make a pretty good conspiracy team.”
“Thanks, Austin.” Whitney opened the door of the car after they pulled up to The Pink Ladies.
“No problem. You guys have quite the subterfuge going on. Hope it works.”
She swung her legs out of the car and sat, staring up at The Pink Lady. She should really get out of the car and go in…
“You okay?”
“Yes, I’m just getting up my nerve. I have to meet a bunch of Rick’s family and… well, I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“I can take you back to your place.”
Stop being such a coward.
“No, I’m fine. I’m just being silly.” She took a deep breath, climbed out of the car, and waved as Austin pulled away. She looked up at the stairs and took a step forward. She counted each and every stair as she climbed. One. Two. Three…
The door swung open, and two young girls raced out onto the deck. “Hey, you must be Miss Layton.”
“I’m Taylor.” One girl slid to a stop on the top stair.
“Why do you always try and be the first to say your name?” the other identical girl asked. “I’m Allison.”
Whitney climbed up the last few stairs. “Hi, glad to meet you. You can call me Whitney.”
“Okay, Whitney, come inside.” One of the girls—Taylor, maybe?—took her hand and tugged her inside.
“Uncle Rick, Uncle Rick. Whitney’s here.”
Rick came around the corner and smiled at her. His welcoming smile soothed her jangled nerves… well, at least a little bit.
“I see you’ve met the twins.”
“She said we could call her Whitney,” Allison—or was it Taylor—insisted. The twins hurried into the house. “Grandmere, Whitney’s here.”
Rick walked up and pressed a quick kiss on her cheek. She looked around to see if anyone else had seen it. He laughed at her. “It’s just family.”
“I’m so nervous,” she whispered.
“Don’t be.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not meeting a famous actress and a surgeon and who knows who else you have here.”
“You look wonderful and there is no reason to be nervous. They’ll love you.” He took her hand and led her into the house.
A beautiful older woman swept into the room. Whitney recognized her immediately. Viola Lemmons. She was dressed in white slacks with a precisely ironed-in crease, and a loose silk blouse. She was absolutely stunning.
The woman crossed over and took her hand. “You must be Whitney. I’m so glad you could come tonight. I’m Viola.”
“N-n-nice to meet you.” Had she actually stuttered?
“Richard, why don’t you pour your friend a drink. You know what she likes, right? And bring me a glass of white wine. We’ll go out on the deck.
It’s such a gorgeous night out.” Viola reached for Whitney’s hand, tucked it on her arm, and led her out onto the massive deck on the bay side of the house. “I love Indigo Bay summers, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Great, one-word answers. Viola must think she couldn’t even communicate.
“Well, I do enjoy coming here in the winter, too, but summer is my favorite.” Viola paused. “Or maybe spring before it gets so crowded.” The woman laughed. “Okay, I like just about every season here.”
Viola crossed over and gracefully slid onto a chair overlooking the bay. “Come, sit.”
Whitney sat in the chair, without Viola’s graceful swoop, and wished Rick would show up with their drinks. So she’d have something to do with her hands. She felt uncomfortably awkward next to this magnificent woman.
Another woman, about Rick’s age, give or take, came outside and walked up to where they were sitting. “It’s hot outside tonight, Grandmere. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go inside?”
“Nonsense, it’s a beautiful night out. A touch of the breeze. I love the smell of the ocean air.”
“I think it’s humid.”
The woman turned to Whitney, and she had to tell herself not to squirm under the woman’s careful perusal of her. “You must be Rick’s friend.”
“Yes, this is Whitney. Whitney, this is Christina, my granddaughter and Rick’s sister.”
“Nice to meet you, Christina.”
“Yes.” The woman walked over to the door and called inside. “Rick, bring me a white wine, will you?”
What kind of answer was yes when someone said nice to meet you? Yes, Christina was glad to meet her too? Or, yes, she should be glad to meet Christina?
Christina settled into a chair beside her grandmother, and Rick finally came outside with a tray of drinks. He smiled at her as he handed her a beer, the same kind she’d had last time. She immediately wondered what Christina would think about her drinking a beer instead of wine like they were. Then she decided she needed to quit overanalyzing everything—as if that would ever happen.
Rick dropped into the chair beside her and took a swig of his beer. She took a dainty sip of hers, still wishing she’d asked for wine.
“So, Whitney, what is it that you do?” Christina finally said something to her.
“I own Coastal Creations, a shop in town.”
“What kind of shop is it?”
“I make custom jewelry. Most of it is sea-based. Sea glass and silver. Things like that.”
“Oh, so like trinkets?”
“No, not like trinkets, Christina.” Rick glared at his sister. “Her jewelry is… well, it’s like a work of art. She’s very talented.”
“Did you make that necklace you have on, dear?” Viola asked.
Whitney reached up to touch the red sea glass necklace that rested against her collarbone. “I did. I found this piece of glass on a trip to California. I loved the shade of it.”
“It’s lovely.” Viola smiled. “Don’t you think so, Christina?”
“Sure.” Christina barely looked her direction.
“Thank you, Viola.” The woman’s kind remark helped lessen the sting of Christina’s words and her obvious dismissal of Whitney’s craft.
Rick reached over and covered her hand and squeezed it.
“So, you live here year-round?” Christina asked, her voice skeptical.
“I do. I’ve lived here my whole life.”
“You grew up here?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t imagine what a person does here, living here year-round. There are no good restaurants, or theater, or… well, I can see someone vacationing here to relax, I guess, but live here?”
Anger mixed with embarrassment coursed through her. Though what did she have to be embarrassed about? She squared her shoulders and looked straight at Christina. “I love living here in Indigo Bay. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”
“Hm, that’s just… so provincial.”
“Knock it off, Christina.” Rick’s voice held a low undertone of anger.
“What? I was just saying that I can’t imagine living in an area like this with none of the finer things of life. I’d be bored silly.”
“Well, I think it’s a lovely town. You’re very lucky to live here, Whitney.” Viola looked at both Rick and Christina over the top of her wine glass and gave them a that’s-enough glance.
The twins came running out onto the deck, each one carrying a small tray. “Grandmere’s cook said we could bring out appetizers,” Taylor said. Whitney was pretty sure it was Taylor.
“I told you we needed more help while Grandmere is here, Richard. Look, they are even using the girls to serve food.”
“Seriously, Christina. That’s enough.” Rick stood up and turned to one of the twins. “What do you have there?”
“These are cheese things, and Allison has some olive things.”
Rick laughed. “Cheese things and olive things. My favorite appetizers.”
“Can we go down in the yard and play? Uncle Rick put up a croquet set, and we want to practice.”
“Stay away from the water,” Christina warned.
“We will.”
Rick walked over to the railing and kept an eye on the girls. “We always played croquet at family gatherings when we were growing up. Have you ever played?”
“I don’t think I have.”
“I’ll have to show you how.”
“I always thought it was a ridiculous game,” Christina interjected.
“Of course you did. You’re lousy at it. You like to win.”
“Richard.” Viola looked at him.
“Sorry.”
Rick was appalled at his behavior. It was one thing to bicker with Christina when it was just the two of them, but he shouldn’t let her get to him now. Not in front of Whitney. Not in front of Grandmere. But he was so angry at the way his sister was treating Whitney. She could be so impossible and always said what was on her mind. She needed an off switch. She’d be much more likable if she’d learn to keep her thoughts to herself, not that that would ever happen.
“Would you like to go down and play a game of croquet with the twins while Cook finishes making dinner?” He reached out his hand for Whitney.
He was pretty sure he saw gratitude in her eyes as she placed her hand in his and stood up.
“I’d love to.”
“Let’s go join the girls. Grandmere, you want to join us?”
“No, I think I’ll just sit here and watch. You two have fun.”
He led Whitney down the flights of stairs and out onto a flat patch of ground where the croquet was set up.
“Okay, who wants to be my partner?” Rick turned to the twins.
“I want to be Whitney’s partner,” Taylor said.
“How come you get to pick?” Allison glared at her twin.
“‘Cause I said it first.”
Rick shook his head. The twins sounded like he and Christina, which was a sad commentary on his adult relationship with his sister.
“Okay, but we’re going to have to teach Whitney how to play.”
“What’s your favorite color? You can choose first.” Allison led the way over to the rack holding the balls and mallets.
“I’ll take yellow.”
Allison gave her the yellow mallet and ball. “Okay, Uncle Rick will show you how to play. He’s a good teacher.”
They played a round of croquet with some cheating and lots of laughter. He was pleased to see Whitney relax as they played. The girls were obviously charmed by her and went out of their way to make sure they didn’t knock her ball out of the way. They had no qualms about sending his ball ricocheting out of bounds, though.
“Richard, it’s time to eat,” Grandmere called down from the deck.
“Coming.” He turned to the girls. “Race you.”
The girls squealed and ran up the stairs. He took Whitney’s hand in his and they slowly climbed the stairs. “Wasn’t really go
ing to race them, I just thought something, anything might tire them out.”
They climbed up to the top level. “Go on in. I’ll just gather up these glasses.” Rick motioned toward the door.
Whitney walked to the doorway and caught the end of Christina’s conversation with Viola.
“I don’t know why in the world he is going out with her when he could go out with Shawna.”
Whitney froze in the doorway.
“I think Whitney is quite lovely.”
“Well, she’s a terrible match for Rick. He’ll never get anywhere if he dates someone like her. He needs to hang out with the right people and date the right woman to assure he gets better roles.”
Guilt washed over her. Christina was right. She’d only hold Rick back. It was silly to think that they could ever have a relationship. He lived his glittery life in Hollywood with the beautiful people of the movie scene. She had nothing to offer him.
Rick came up behind her. “You okay?”
“I… yes.” She could barely get the words out and tried to fight back the tears that threatened the corners of her eyes. She shouldn’t let Christina get to her, but she’d so wanted Rick’s family to like her. She didn’t think that was going to happen with Christina. Not to mention, Christina had just spelled out the truth. She wasn’t a good match for Rick.
Rick frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She silently walked into the house.
Chapter 16
Last night had been a disaster as far as Rick was concerned. Whitney had been quiet all through dinner. Christina had talked about politics and Philadelphia and all the movies Viola had starred in. She’d practically been a one-woman show.
Whitney had thanked Grandmere for having her over and left after dinner, insisting she could walk home alone, which he wasn’t pleased with. He’d called Mitch to be on the lookout for her.
He poured another cup of coffee and wandered over to the windows, enjoying the quiet morning, looking out over the bay.
