Mark wanted to argue. He knew she was great at her job. He wasn’t her enemy. He was her ally. But clearly the exchange with Cade had her rattled.
“Why did you apply for another job then?” Mark asked.
“What job?”
“Manager of Special Events. My job.”
“Why wouldn’t I? More responsibility, more money, and better hours. Who wouldn’t want that? I don’t want to be the worker bee forever. I’d like to be the queen one day too.”
Mark nodded. He understood. He’d been ambitious too. He saw a lot of the qualities he appreciated most in Lizzie. And contrary to what she thought, he admired her. She had gumption and bravery and creativity. She seemed well suited to her role. He hated that Frank Cade seemed to dismissive of her. But he didn’t want to bring that up to her. He didn’t need to confirm to her that the boss didn’t value her. Then she might leave. He couldn’t imagine doing this job without her.
“What time is it?” he asked her.
She frowned at him and his obvious attempt to change the topic but looked at her computer all the same.
“It’s almost ten thirty.”
“Okay, we better get going. I’ll drive,” he told her.
She nodded and grabbed a few things including a binder off her desk. Had she made a binder for his event? He grinned at the thought that he might make the shelf. If their island was ever hit by a hurricane he knew the last place to seek refuge would be their cottage covered in shelves.
Standing still, he waited for Lizzie to gather her things. He held open the door for her and locked it behind them. He didn’t want to think about Frank Cade sneaking around in their office. Or worse, forcing Samantha to do it.
“Where are you parked?” Lizzie asked, interrupting his train of thought as they walked down the tabby path.
“Right over there. It’s the only car in this lot.”
“Wait…the jeep?” Lizzie stopped in her tracks and he had to turn to look back. “You drive Barbie’s car?” she asked.
Mark groaned. “It is not Barbie’s car. We live next to the ocean. I like having the top down and driving without doors.”
“So did Barbie,” she muttered.
He rolled his eyes and walked away from her to the driver’s side. After a moment she followed him over. She didn’t get in, but stood next to the car, eyeing it suspiciously.
“Oh, I’m sorry I don’t drive some boring box like you.”
“Hey, not everyone can handle fine Japanese engineering and reliability like I can with my CR-V. I get it. Don’t be sensitive. Your mascara will run,” she teased, looking at him through the open doorway and winking.
Walking around to her side, he stood inches away, leaning his back against the car. The air hummed around them, alive with insects and simmering with potential. His fingers itched to smooth the fallen strand of hair behind her ear. He wanted to offer her comfort. Her tongue darted out and she licked her lips. Don’t go there, don’t even let your mind wander.
“Maybe you’re too much of a wimp,” he countered, narrowing his eyes at her. It’s not the time or the place. “Maybe you can’t handle living on the edge.”
“Or maybe I don’t want to melt before I even get to work.”
“What can I say? I’ve lived here long enough that I’ve acclimated.”
“So in late summer you’re still driving around in a suit without air conditioning?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Get in, we’ve got to go.”
Narrowing her eyes at him, she nodded, got into the car, clutched her giant purse against her with her left arm and held on to the overhead handle with her right.
“What are you doing?” Mark asked, shaking his head as he got in behind the steering wheel.
“Holding on for dear life, how can you drive without doors?”
“I don’t have a purse. Maybe this isn’t Barbie’s car after all. It’s not practical,” he replied.
“Uh huh, sure. You call a truce and then start baiting me? That’s not fair.”
“You’re right. What do you want to talk about? What else do we have in common?”
“I can’t imagine anything,” she replied, sighing dramatically.
Looking over at her, her white-knuckle grip tightened on the handle over the door as they drove over each bump in the pavement. He shot her a mischievous smile and took the next turn a little faster than necessary.
“Ahh,” she shrieked.
“So you don’t like thrill rides I’m guessing?”
“No thank you.”
“How about movies? What kind of movies do you like?”
“I like big budget summer action flicks.”
“Really?” he asked and looked at her through the corner of his eye, sure that she must be teasing him.
“Yeah. And of course I love Star Wars and Indiana Jones. But that’s pretty much a prerequisite for living in America now, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know about that.”
He hadn’t watched a movie in years. Throughout his adolescence, he’d escaped to the movies every night he could. Before he’d been old enough to drive or have a job, being dropped off at the theater had been his only break from the deafening silence of his cold home. Watching a movie was so intrinsically tied to those feelings of desperation and loneliness, he hadn’t been able to buy a ticket in years.
“No? You don’t think so? I love Star Wars. I even got into the Clone Wars animated series.”
“You did? Wow. That’s pretty committed. I like Star Wars too but I don’t know that I’ve seen the cartoon.”
“Growing up my brother and I would spend every snow day having a marathon of either Star Wars or Indiana Jones.”
Swallowing the lump in his throat at her mention of a brother and family, he kept his mouth shut. He’d never had either, not in truth. What must that be like? He watched Phil and his family and longed for what they had but wondered if he even deserved it. Maybe he’d always been denied because something in him wasn’t worthy of that kind of unconditional love.
Clenching his jaw, he didn’t respond and pulled into the parking lot.
“We’re here,” he announced, jumped out of the car and walked towards the entrance.
* * * * *
Lizzie smoothed out her jacket and skirt, buying herself time as he stalked off. How had she offended him when talking about Star Wars? The morning had been emotionally exhausting after the run-in with Mr. Cade. She took in a deep breath and pulled back her shoulders. She met Mark at the door he held open. Lizzie proceeded through, pulled out her legal pad and pen, and put aside any other thoughts.
She was here to do her job. She could do that. She could compartmentalize and put away her feelings while she became the consummate professional. Like she’d been doing for two years already.
“Sam, this is Lizzie,” Mark introduced her to the scrawny man wearing a seersucker suit standing before her.
Biting her tongue, she extended her hand to the man. She wanted to correct Mark on introductions, as his boss had done to her, verbally lashing her in the first of their unfortunate encounters. Nope, this wouldn’t do. She had to be professional. She held the legal pad tightly against her chest with one hand and reached out her other in front of her.
Despite his thin frame, Sam had a firm handshake. She liked that. If she’d learned anything from shaking hands with hundreds of brides and grooms, it was that the firmer the grip, the more decisive the person. She liked people who knew what they wanted and had clear expectations. They were the easiest to deal with.
“It’s a pleasure,” Sam said.
“Likewise,” Lizzie agreed.
Mark cleared his throat and Sam dropped his grip on her hand. They’d taken the measure of each other in that moment, she thought. But Mark seemed to hulk over the pair of them, like they were flirting. Lizzie nibbled the inside of her cheek, Mark’s stern expression reminded her of Patrick’s look of disapproval towards any guy she’d ever da
ted.
Stepping further into the room, she looked around her. They’d walked into a long corridor with one wall of glass doors and windows opening onto a circular drive, where they’d parked. The corridor seemed to stretch the length of the building and was wide enough to host hundred people, she estimated. Lizzie walked in a circle, taking in the new carpets, the huge crystal chandeliers that hung in the twenty-foot ceilings overhead at regular intervals down the length with enormous pedestal tables beneath each one. The benefit of new construction, she mused, was that it would take very little to decorate.
“This is beautiful,” Lizzie told Sam.
“Thanks. We’re happy to be hosting this event for you,” Sam replied.
Lizzie looked to Mark, but he didn’t add anything. Was she supposed to just stand here and compliment the facility without finding out what they needed to know? Mark clasped his hands behind his back and looked around casually, like a bystander. Lizzie wanted to snap her fingers at him to get him to wake up. And why were they standing inside when they’d be holding all of the events outside on the beach?
“I had a few questions for you, if you don’t mind?” Lizzie asked, halting on the words, unsure if she should take charge.
“Sure, go for it,” Sam replied, smiling.
“Where are the bathrooms that the concert goers will use? Will they come in here?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. Probably we’ll have to bring in some port potties to accommodate the large crowd.”
“What about the VIPs? Are they going to be port potties too? Because I think that will be a problem.”
“Umm…I’ll get back to you,” Sam replied, more slowly.
“Okay,” Lizzie said. She looked down to her sheet, if he hadn’t been able to answer those easy questions, he might not like the rest of her list.
“We are bringing in our own catering staff. When will they be able to get in and set up? And how far away will that be from the beach? They need a staging area before taking the food outside.”
“Oh, okay, I’ll look into that,” Sam replied, patting himself down until he found a scrap of paper and a pen. He began jotting down notes to himself. Lizzie liked him. Anyone with enough presence of mind to take notes was someone worth working with.
“How about parking? How many cars does your lot hold? Is there any overflow parking? Do you have anyone that can direct traffic?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t have any of these answers of the top of my head,” Sam said. “If you’d send me the questions I will find out for you.”
Grinning, she pulled out a sheet of paper with everything she’d asked already written. She had more to ask but had flustered him enough with the basics. She’d been prepared that the staff at such a new facility might still have a learning curve. She watched Sam’s eyes nearly bug out of his head when she handed him the sheet.
“And I thought you were the one in charge,” Sam muttered to Mark.
Lizzie looked at Mark and blanched. She hadn’t intended to take over or try to show him up.
“No, no. She’s the brains of the operation,” Mark chuckled.
He looked at Lizzie in a significant way. He held her gaze but didn’t smile and didn’t frown. She stood perfectly still but relented and walked away. It was his event. He was in charge. She had no need to take over, she decided. She agreed to help, not to do his job.
“Will the building be available if we need to move the concert inside?” Lizzie asked; her voice subdued.
“Yes, it will. Follow me,” Sam replied and led the way across the corridor to the row of solid doors opposite.
Lizzie waited for Mark to follow Sam first, choosing to follow behind him, to show her deference. But he slowed to walk with her.
“Lizzie, we can’t have the concert inside,” he said under his breath.
“But what about the weather? What is your plan for rain?”
“It’s on rain or shine.”
“Even the reception and dinner? If it’s a cool and windy night, you might not be able to keep the linens on the tables out there. Eating on the beach is one of those things that sounds glamorous. But it’s a terrible mess,” she whispered.
“If we have to move those last minute, then that’s what we’ll do. But it’s not something to worry about beforehand.”
Her slow nod was one of reluctance and not agreement. She’d keep her opinion to herself, for the time being. They’d followed Sam into a giant box of a room. Sam turned on the sconces that illuminated the walls surrounding them and Lizzie quickly understood what worried Mark. The room was cavernous and ill-suited for a concert. But if the weather got bad, they needed another choice, even if Mark didn’t want to own it.
“Sam, could we listen to your sound system? Could you turn on the radio or something?” Lizzie shouted at him across the room.
He put up an ear to make out her words and held up a thumbs up sign before disappearing into what looked like a closet.
“This isn’t going to work,” Mark said. “No one will be able to enjoy what they’re hearing. Either they’ll be straining to make out the notes or it’ll be too loud to dance and relax and enjoy.”
“So now you’re an expert on acoustics for dancing?” Lizzie asked.
The room came alive with a Latin rhythm. Lizzie turned to Mark, her arms crossed over her chest, an eyebrow raised in challenge. Without asking, he reached for her hand, grabbed it, and spun her. Her hand burned where he touched her and she shivered when she brushed against him in the spin.
Pulling her in close, he looked deep into her eyes. Awareness flickered in his gaze, her own understanding of their attraction reflected back at her. He shifted his weight forward and backward in short quick steps, directing her with his hands on her back and his thigh forcing hers to move. Without needing to be told, she followed.
After a moment, she recognized the movements of salsa and grinned. She hadn’t danced with a partner in a long time. Moving in sync with another person, trusting them to take the lead, hadn’t happened for years. She’d never have expected to dance while on the clock. He held her close and tightened his grip on her upper back. Her muscles nearly gave out, trusting him so completely that they didn’t need to support her. He would do that. He would hold her up.
She hadn’t had faith in anyone like that in a long time. She’d never thought she’d find it outside of her own family. But with Mark, an understanding existed between them that she’d never stopped to give credence. After a few spins, he pulled her in closer, both of his hands on her waist. He held her for a long moment, their chests nearly touching, their eyes locked on one another. She licked her dry lips and then dipped her.
Mark righted Lizzie and took a few steps away. Back to colleagues, back to business, she tugged her jacket back down. It had been a fun moment in a strenuous and stressful day. And more than anything it summed up something that she’d come to grudgingly realize over the last week. They were a good team. They could move in sync.
“Okay, fine, the music is painful to listen to in this room,” Lizzie agreed, clearing her throat.
“And we didn’t even need you to start tap dancing to find that out,” Mark teased.
“Ha, true. Who knew you could dance?”
“There’s a lot more to me than you’ve figured out.”
“I should hope so,” Lizzie muttered under her breath.
Chapter Ten
Lizzie carried two venti mochas in a drink carrier down the tabby path to the office. The sun shone directly overhead in a bright blue sky with only a few clouds gathering across the marsh. As she watched, a few seabirds landed among the grasses before setting off quickly again.
She reached the door to the cottage and heard the hum of the window air conditioning unit. Lizzie sighed. She hated the constant noise that drowned out the sounds of the birds in the marsh and the wind rustling the leaves of the live oaks. But the humidity made even thinking impossible without the cool blast of air, even in May.
Ki
cking the door with her heel, she heard Mark’s loud footfalls. The doorknob turned and the door opened. Mark smiled at her, took in the offering in her outstretched arms, and his grin grew wider. He stepped back and she brushed past him as she walked in. Warmth shot through her from the casual contact, making her right side tingle where she’d rubbed against him.
Heading straight ahead to put the drinks down, she took a moment to recollect herself and her thoughts. Since the first walk through at the convention center, the walls they’d erected between them had begun to crack. At least I hope so. No matter how obvious or childish bumping into him might be, she couldn’t help herself. I like being close to him.
“You come bearing gifts.” Mark sat down at his desk and grabbed a mocha from the holder. “What’s the occasion?”
Biting her lip, she considered how to broach what she really wanted to discuss. Mark, as you know, I’ve been working non-stop for special events and for the resort. I think I’ve earned a raise of… double my current salary. Or I’m going to have to hand in my notice.
Taking a sip from her mocha, she stood at the window, her back against her desk. The dark clouds that had gathered over the marshes had already dispersed. Storms moved quickly over the ocean, often dissipating before any rain could fall. I wish I could move on so quickly. She sighed. Could Mark help her get a raise? Or was it wishful thinking on her part?
Mark cleared his throat. Oh right, he’d been talking.
“The occasion is, I need to head over to the convention center. Do you want to come?”
He groaned. “Do you need me too?”
“Yes. This is your event. If they don’t hire more event planners, I don’t know how much I’ll be able to help you with your next event.” Or if I’ll even be here. “I need to make sure you understand everything I’m doing.”
She took his grunt as agreement.
“Okay, let’s go.”
“Now?”
“Let’s get some fresh air. Maybe walk on the beach and get out of this box. Why don’t you like going over there?”
“I never said I don’t like going over there,” he mumbled.
Tidal Patterns (Golden Shores Book 1) Page 11
