Out of Sight

by Michelle Celmer

  For the first time in her life she didn’t feel as if she were waiting for the other shoe to fall.

  In the other room she heard Eve winding down, Abi’s cue to prepare to meet the kids and introduce them to the program. For the next four weeks their days would be filled with horseback riding, hiking and swimming, crafts and scavenger hunts and of course family and individual counseling.

  “Time to meet the kids,” she said.

  “How about dinner in my quarters Thursday night?” Maureen asked. “I’d like to go over a few new ideas for the next session.” Unlike her staff, Maureen didn’t share dinner with her guests in the main dining room. In fact, it was rare that she ever showed her face. She spent most of her time in her office or private living quarters.

  “Should I find someone to watch Adam?” Abi asked.

  “No, bring him. He can watch Nickelodeon.”

  “He’ll love that.” Since Maureen’s television was the only one at the resort with a satellite dish and local channels were limited, it was a rare treat for her son. He wouldn’t make a peep.

  “Six o’clock?”

  “Sounds good, I’ll see you then.”

  She buzzed Abi out of her private office and into the main office next door, where Maureen’s secretary, Susie, took care of the everyday business.

  “I apologize, Mr. Bishop, but that just won’t be possible,” Susie was saying to the man standing opposite her desk.

  Looming over it was more like it. He stood at least six feet tall and, in low-riding khaki shorts and a T-shirt, had the lean muscled look of a man half his age. She was guessing, from the gray peppering the thick dark hair at his temples and the lines bracketing his eyes and mouth, he had to be pushing forty.

  And handsome. Wow. He was what some of the younger female staff members would refer to as a “hot-tie.” His face was long and lean, his cheekbones high, his eyes deep set and intense. She could see he was the Sean Connery type, the sort of man who would only improve with age. Then he turned toward her and she had to fight not to gasp. Deep scars marred the entire left half of his face.

  His eyes quickly roamed over her from head to toe and back again. The move was so deliberate, so…calculated, she didn’t know if she should feel flattered or violated.

  “Ms. Kelly?” he asked in a deep and smooth voice.

  Abi’s defenses instantly went on alert. Running interference for Maureen was a regular part of the job, and she took it very seriously. Without Maureen, who knew where she would be? “My name is Abigale Sullivan, children’s activities director. Mr. Bishop, is it?”

  “Will,” he said, holding out a hand for her to shake. His grip was firm and confident, his smile warm and engaging. If his appearance bothered him in the least, he didn’t let it show. And oddly enough, it didn’t detract from his good looks. She found herself instinctively standing a little taller, running a hand through her drab brown, pin-straight hair.

  Ugh! She was preening? Where had that come from? It had been an awfully long time since she’d worried about using her looks to impress a man. Since she’d had Adam, she hadn’t even tried. She had neither the time, the will, nor the opportunity. If nothing else, she went out of her way to make herself as invisible as possible. Since her first encounter with a boy in the backseat of a beat-up Nova, she’d had enough experience with men to last three lifetimes. All that mattered now was being a good mother to her son.

  But something about the direct way this man looked at her both intrigued and disturbed her.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” she asked, locking her hands behind her back to stop herself from fidgeting.

  “He was asking to see Maureen,” Susie said, a wary look in her eyes. She was always suspicious of people wanting to see Maureen, as if they might somehow know who she really was. Most of the staff didn’t know her true identity. Only those who could be trusted were allowed into the fold, and even then only so much information was divulged.

  Abi had been with her from the start and knew what Maureen stood to lose should her real identity ever be discovered.

  “Is there a problem I can help you with?” Abi asked.

  “No,” he said. “No problem. I just wanted to thank Ms. Kelly for getting me in on such short notice. My work schedule affords me very little time for personal travel.”

  “As Susie said, Maureen doesn’t see guests, but I’ll be sure to pass along the message.”

  Another warm smile. “I’d appreciate that.”

  “Susie, Adam and I will be having dinner with Maureen Thursday night. Let the chef know, please.”

  “Sure thing, Abi.” Susie gave Mr. Bishop one last suspicious look before she picked up the phone and dialed the extension for the kitchen.

  “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bishop,” Abi said and started for the door. “If you need anything else, any member of the staff can help you.”

  “Call me Will,” he said, falling in step beside her. “You said you’re the children’s activities director?”

  “That’s right. Do you have children?”

  “Unfortunately no. Or fortunately, depending on how you look at it. Both my divorces were pretty nasty. It would have been a shame to drag a child through that.”

  Well, he was conscientious—or that was what he wanted her to believe. Not that she had any reason to suspect he would try to deceive her, but old habits died hard. She was only now learning to trust again, to believe not everyone had ulterior motives.

  They walked out into the common area. The main building as well as the smaller cabins were constructed entirely of logs, and their furnishings—knotted pine or Early American—reflected the same rustic theme. A former dude ranch, the atmosphere was much more laid-back than your average upscale resort. It didn’t put on airs, and for Abi, that was its charm.

  The meeting had ended and some of the guests had broken off into small groups while others left to explore the grounds. The children’s orientation was scheduled to start in ten minutes, and the official activities kickoff began that night at dusk, when everyone gathered on the beach for a bonfire.

  “Well,” she said, turning to Mr. Bishop. “I have a lot of work to do. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

  He smiled and shook her hand, gripping it firmly and holding on just a fraction of a second longer than she deemed appropriate.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll be running into each other again.”

  There was something about him that bothered her, she realized as she headed for the children’s activities center. Not that he’d been rude or unfriendly. Maybe it was that he’d been too friendly. Or maybe it was the distinct skip of her heart when he smiled at her.

  Even if he did find her attractive—which she found pretty hard to swallow in the first place—a divorce retreat was certainly not the place to pick up men. There were strict rules forbidding the staff from becoming romantically involved with the guests. Likewise, the guests were discouraged from forming intimate relationships with each other. Not that it didn’t occasionally occur.

  As she pulled open the door, a feeling, something like a warm shiver, danced its way up the length of her spine, and she looked back in the direction from which she’d come. Mr. Bishop stood right where she’d left him, hands tucked in his shorts pockets, leaning casually against the wall.

  And he was watching her.

  Will saw Abi glance his way, give him a funny look, then disappear out the door. She was about as plain as they came—her drab brown hair hung straight and limp around a heart-shaped face completely devoid of makeup. Her shorts were baggy, her red faculty T-shirt oversize, hiding whatever figure she had—which, from what he could see, wasn’t much. She wasn’t unattractive, just…nondescript. And about as timid as a mouse. But there was something about her eyes—something remarkable. They were plain old brown and a little on the large side, which at first had given her a look of youthful innocence. Until he looked deeper and realized she could h
ave been a hundred years old for all the wisdom and experience he saw lurking there.

  He also saw distrust.

  But, if she was having dinner with the owner, they must be friends. Though it would be hard-won, gaining her friendship—gaining her trust—might be the key to meeting to the elusive Maureen Kelly. And for that he would go to any lengths. Even if that meant deceiving a woman who, if the pain buried deep in her eyes was any indication, had clearly been deceived before.

  Chapter 2

  Abi sat alone at a table in the dining room that evening, picking at her dinner. Though she had planned to eat in her cabin with Adam, she’d wanted a chance to observe Eric. As she’d expected, he hadn’t said a word during orientation and had begrudgingly participated in as few activities as he could get away with today. He hadn’t made any effort to meet the other kids and now he sat by himself at the rear of the dining room. He was so alone, her heart ached for him. And as badly as she’d wanted to approach him—and possibly throw her arms around the poor kid and hug him—she had to be very careful with this one. One wrong move and he would completely shut her out.

  From what she’d learned from his file, he was an only child who’d had the misfortune of being born to two parents who were more interested in their social status and careers than raising their son. He’d spent most of his life in boarding school or away at camp. It made a person wonder why his parents had become ensnared in a bitter custody battle. And as was usually the case, he’d landed right in the middle.

  Now he was so closed off, so afraid to trust, she feared it might be too late to salvage what little self-esteem he might have had left. Four weeks wasn’t nearly long enough to undo years of neglect and heartache, but she and the staff were going to give it a valiant effort.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  Abi looked up to find Will Bishop standing beside her table. Before she could even open her mouth to answer, he set down his plate and slid into the seat across from her. Even if she had intended to say no, he didn’t give her the option. She couldn’t help wondering why, of all the people in the retreat, he chose to sit with her.

  Several times that day, during outdoor activities with the children, she’d had the odd sensation that someone was watching her and looked up to find him close by. He’d been engrossed in some activity and hadn’t appeared to notice her, and for some baffling reason, she found herself watching him. A few times he looked up, caught her staring, and she’d quickly looked away. She had no idea what it was about him that made her feel so…aware. She only knew that when he was around, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from looking at him, studying him.

  A startling thought occurred to her. Maybe he’d sat down at her table because he thought she was interested in him.

  “Busy day?” he asked, draping his napkin in his lap.

  “The first week is always a little hectic,” she said, keeping her eyes glued to her plate. Why did she feel so nervous? She’d once defined her life by her ability to manipulate men. Now it unnerved her to sit three feet from one.

  Maybe she was just out of practice. Although, never in her three years there had being around a male guest made her the least bit edgy.

  “Are you enjoying your stay so far?” she asked, feigning great interest in the chicken on her plate.

  “Is it my face?”

  She was so startled by his words, her head shot up. “Your face?”

  “My scars. Is that why you won’t look at me?” He said it casually, as if he’d just asked her about the weather, but something dark simmered in his eyes.

  “No, of course not,” she said.

  “It bothers some people. As if when they look directly at me, all they see are the scars.” He ran one large, tanned hand down the side of his face. “I guess they don’t know how to act. If they look too long, they’re staring, if they look away, they’re avoiding.”

  She surprised herself by asking, “How did it happen?”

  A smile lifted the left side of his mouth. “The direct approach. That’s different.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was serious or being sarcastic. It wasn’t like her to be so direct—not anymore—and it set off a siren of warning in her head. “I’m sorry. If I’m being nosy—”

  “Not at all,” he said. “It was a car accident—it caught fire. I’m lucky to be alive.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged. “No need to be sorry. It’s not your fault.”

  She looked down at her plate. How did she keep managing to say the wrong thing? The man was going to think she was a complete flake—if he didn’t already. Although maybe that would be best.

  But he was a guest, so she couldn’t be rude.

  Will was quiet for a minute, then he said, “If my being here makes you uncomfortable, I can move to a different table.”

  “No! I’m not uncomfortable,” she lied because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. And as badly as she did want him to get up and leave, she wanted him to stay just as much. The warning bell clanged louder. She didn’t want to want that. It was too dangerous. She’d done a pretty darned good job of numbing her emotions when it came to the opposite sex. What had once been like an addiction was now just an unpleasant memory. If she were ever to revert back to her old ways, would she have the strength to change back? And if she didn’t, what would become of her son?

  “As long as you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure,” she said, forcing a smile.

  Two chatty guests—teenage sisters from her morning session named Cindy and Leanne—joined them a minute later, relieving them of the need to make small talk. Yet, as hard as she tried to concentrate on her food, her eyes kept straying up to Will. She wasn’t sure what it was about him that she found so fascinating. He was just so in-your-face bold. Maybe it reminded her a little bit of herself—the way she used to be. It could also be the deep hurt she saw in his eyes, a feeling she could identify with. It was second nature for her to want to heal him, to take away the pain.

  Speaking of pain, she suddenly remembered Eric and looked up only to find he’d finished his dinner and was walking toward the door.

  “He’s a rich snob,” Cindy was saying to her sister. “I don’t like him.”

  Leanne, the younger and more reserved sister, got a dreamy look on her face. “I think he’s cute.”

  Now this was a conversation Abi could sink her teeth into. “Who’s cute?” she asked.

  Leanne’s cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink. She was the delicate, petite type, with long, straight brown hair she kept tucked behind her ears and she had a sweet, tranquil disposition.

  “That Eric kid,” Cindy said with disdain. While both girls were pretty, she was more exotic-looking, with long, shiny black hair, sparkling violet eyes and a personality to match. She also had a chip large enough to fill the Grand Canyon resting on her shoulder and, according to her file, had been getting herself into quite a bit of trouble. The normal stuff teenage girls did to get attention from their estranged parents—ditching school, experimentation with drugs and alcohol, getting involved with the wrong crowd.

  Abi had already instructed the staff to keep a close eye on her. Though they were fifteen miles from the nearest town, kids like her had a knack for finding trouble where adults didn’t think it existed.

  “He is cute,” Abi agreed and asked Leanne, “He’s got that young Brad Pitt look, doesn’t he?”

  Leanne bit her lip and nodded, her cheeks blushing even brighter.

  “He thinks he’s better than everyone else,” Cindy snapped.

  “Why do you say that?” Abi asked.

  “He won’t talk to anyone! He’s a total snob.”

  “Have you tried to talk to him?”

  Cindy shrugged and said, “Why would I?”

  If only she knew what Eric had been through, she might not be so quick to judge. Or maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference. Either way, it would be unprofessional for Abi to divulge his private information.
If he wanted to talk to them, he would in his own good time. All she could do was guide the girls and encourage them to be open-minded. Especially Cindy.

  “Maybe you should try to talk to him before you go jumping to conclusions,” Abi told them. “Things are not always what they seem.”

  “I think he’s sad,” Leanne said softly. “He just doesn’t want anyone to know.”

  Cindy shook her head and rolled her eyes. “God, you are so naive.”

  She was definitely angry and appeared to take a lot of her frustration out on her sister. Leanne in turn only crawled deeper inside herself.

  Abi glanced over at Will and saw that he was trying not to smile. In the eyes of a childless bachelor, the feminine banter must have been fairly amusing.

  Abi finished her chicken, set her napkin alongside her plate and rose to her feet. “I’ll see you ladies tomorrow, bright and early.”

  “I’ll walk with you,” Will said, rising to join her.

  “Oh, th-that’s not necessary,” she said, suddenly flustered. “I’m just going to my cabin.”

  Will shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’m in the mood for a little fresh air.”

  It was another sticky situation. If she said no, she could hurt his feelings. Besides, what would be the harm? It was just a casual stroll, right? Maybe he was just looking for a friendly face among strangers, and hers appealed to him somehow.

  But as she nodded and they headed out of the dining room together, she had to fight back an eerie feeling of apprehension. Because she knew from experience things were not always what they seemed.

  Hands tucked in his pockets, Will followed Abi out of the dining room and fell in step beside her as they walked in the direction of the employee cabins. Already the sun had begun to set and there was a nip in the air that made her shiver under her T-shirt. It would be a chilly night. A good night for sleeping.