by Jamie Pope
He kicked off his sneakers and sat beside her. The sand was damp, the water cool, but it was a shock to his system. He hadn’t done this before. He had what most people dream of—a private beach. Half an island to himself. Unspoiled nature surrounding him, and yet he had never sat outside and enjoyed it. Never felt the sand between his toes, never smelled the sweet, salty air, never looked out on the endless blue ocean that was right outside his home.
He felt guilty because he was here to enjoy this place when his father couldn’t. His father would be so disappointed to see that he hadn’t even bothered to go outside and just breathe it all in.
“I’ve never been on a beach alone,” she said to him after a moment. “Especially a beach like this. It’s truly something, isn’t it?”
“It’s beautiful. How long have you been out here?”
“Since the sun came up. I couldn’t sleep last night so I came out here to think.”
“To think,” he repeated. “About what?”
“About this job. About whether I’ve gotten in over my head. I was thinking about if maybe I should leave.”
He was quiet for a moment, knowing he needed to apologize for snapping at her last night, but not knowing how to begin. “Do you want to leave?”
“I feel as if I’m intruding, Mr. Bradley.”
“I feel as if you’re supposed to call me Carlos.” He stood up, extending his hand. “Come to the market with me.”
* * *
He had a Range Rover in the garage solely for her use, but she wanted to him to drive the old-school black convertible that was big as a tank and took as much gas. It had come with the house; the former owner had fixed it up himself.
“I’m feeling a little like Lena Horne in the 1950s,” she said as the ocean air whipped around them. “Just give me a big pair of sunglasses and a fabulous scarf.” She had her bare feet up on the dashboard, those long shapely legs stretched out before him, distracting his attention from the road. He was very tempted to run his hand up one of them, just to feel more of her softness, but he stopped himself. Never in his life had he met anyone he wanted to touch more; never in his life had he found a woman so tempting.
“I never would have thought to come here until you called me,” she said, looking at the scenery around her. “This doesn’t feel like Florida. It feels as if I’m in another country altogether.”
“My parents brought us here once, as kids. So when the opportunity came up to buy it, I did.”
“I would have loved to come here as a kid,” she said wistfully. “My parents aren’t the relax-on-the-beach, sand-between-their-toes type of people.”
“My mother is from Costa Rica. She had a hard time living in Maryland, away from the water, so every summer my parents would pack us in the car and drive us down to Florida. My father loved the beach. He saved all his vacation days for the year so we could spend two weeks down here. He would park his chair in the sand in the morning and wouldn’t leave until sundown that night,” he said, finding himself sharing more about himself than he meant to.
“What did the rest of you do?” she asked, smiling.
“Ran wild.” Memories came flooding back to him of Ava and Elias running around the beach with inflatable water tubes around their waists, and his older sister reading in the shade of an umbrella.
“I’m jealous.” She shut her eyes and leaned back in the seat, letting the rays of the sun hit her face. “My parents were all about culture and educational vacations. As an adult I can appreciate seeing Prague. As a seven-year-old, I’d much rather have gone to an amusement park on the Jersey Shore.”
“Your parents took you to Europe as a kid?”
“Yes, my mother is a mathematics professor who teaches courses with names like Complex Functions Theories and Partial Differential Equations. My father was a high-ranking military man and dealt with a lot of foreign officials. They wanted their children to be well-rounded individuals who could excel in any setting.”
“Are you?”
“You’ve met me. What do you think? My parents were expecting a doctor and another professor in the family. But my brother is a paramedic and I decorate people’s houses for a living.”
“You think they are disappointed in you?”
“Oh, I know they are, but I learned a long time ago that I have to follow my dreams, not the dreams they have for me.”
He pulled into town and was greeted with the sight of brightly colored buildings in mint greens, bright blues and yellows. There were people strolling up and down the small streets and diners eating on restaurant patios, but it wasn’t crowded. It didn’t feel like the height of tourist season, which it was. The whole place felt relaxed, a throwback to another time, and Carlos felt himself growing relaxed. He didn’t think he would like being in town. But this place was so different from Miami. He forgot that was why he was drawn to it in the first place.
A few minutes later they were in the market, with him pushing the cart while Virginia went through her list.
“You aren’t one of those low fat/no fat people, are you?” She stopped in front of the milk case.
“I’ve been known to enjoy a glass of two percent, but I can deal with the whole stuff.”
“Good. I’m for veggies and healthy stuff, but when I cook, I like my cheese, my milk and my butter full of fat.” She grinned. “I should have had that same mantra when it comes to men. I think I would have been a lot happier.”
“You like your men skinny?”
“I used to like them skinny, artsy and a little bit smelly. I went through a phase. It started when I turned eighteen and ended when my last boyfriend dumped me a year ago.”
“You’re playing with me, right?”
“Unfortunately, no. He broke up with me by leaving a note on my microwave, and to top it all off, he stole my cat.”
“He stole your cat?”
“Yeah. She hissed at me every time I came near her and had a weak bladder, but she was my cat and I tolerated her.”
“Son of a bitch.” He hadn’t known her long, only for a few days, but he knew that the guy who’d broken up with her was nothing but a loser and she was better off without him. “I hope you didn’t cry over him.”
She was smiling at him, and he lifted his hand to stroke his thumb across her cheek.
He was touching her again. In a way that a man shouldn’t be touching the woman he’d just hired. Especially when that man had warned himself to stay away from her.
“I didn’t. I’m just glad he didn’t take the microwave,” she said, sounding kind of breathless. “I would have missed my microwave.”
They stood there for a moment, somehow getting closer. Her eyes went to his lips, and he wondered if she wanted the same thing he did. He wondered if she wanted him to close the distance between them and kiss the lips that looked so inviting.
Her stomach growled, breaking the moment and causing her to laugh. “Come on and let’s hurry up in here so we can feed me.”
It was for the best. He shouldn’t be kissing her in public, in front of the dairy case in the store. He shouldn’t be kissing her at all.
* * *
Virginia’s cell phone rang from the pocket of her dress. It had been ringing all morning. She had put out so many calls, most of them local, trying to find residents of Hideaway Island who were skilled enough to do the work this house required. She’d found a few leads but she was hoping for more.
Pulling her phone out, she glanced at the screen and saw that it was her mother. She had barely spoken to her mother in the past few weeks, avoiding her calls. She had never been completely on board with Virginia becoming and interior designer. She had been thrilled to learn that Virginia had given up painting, but disappointed that she was choosing another career where her paychecks didn’t come steadily every two weeks.
“Hello, Mother dearest.”
“Please, Virginia, you know I dislike it when you call me that.”
“I do. How are you?”
“I’m fine, dear. I’m calling you from the car. I’m headed to hear Stanislav Smirnov speak on percolation theory. I’m so excited. I’ve been anxiously awaiting my chance to hear him speak. I haven’t heard a lecture of this level since I went to that symposium on combinatorics and number theory.”
“That’s great, Mom,” Virginia said, having no clue what her mother was talking about. “I hope you have a good time. Tell me all about it later.” She was prepared to disconnect, but she would have been getting off too easy.
“I didn’t just call to tell you about that. I wanted to see how you were doing.”
“I’m fine.”
“But you’re living with that baseball man now,” Dr. Anderson said, the disapproval heavy in her voice.
“I’m redesigning his house.”
“Yes, and the last man you lived with, you were giving art lessons to.”
“That was different. He came to me to learn about color theory and we were in a relationship.”
“He was an out-of-work sculptor with poor hygiene.”
“You’re right, Mother,” Virginia said, in hopes they could just drop this line of conversation.
“You didn’t mention to me you were going to be living with this man. You have a way of glossing over those bits of information that I find truly astounding.”
“I’m not living with him. I live downstairs in the back of his very large house. He lives upstairs. I’m just the help. I rarely see him and I promise you I am not sleeping with him.”
“Who is this man anyway, Virginia? You’re my only daughter and the light of my life. I don’t like the idea of you living on a strange island with a man you don’t know.”
“I have to live here. His house is very far from town and he’s not exactly a stranger.”
“So you do know him. Aha! How long have you’ve been seeing him?”
“Mother! I’m not dating him and have no plans to. He’s famous. Look him up. Carlos Bradley. Daddy knows who he is.”
“Hmm.” Her mother fell silent for a moment. “I know you’ve just started this job, sweetheart, but if you ever feel the need to come home, your father and I are here. You can even live with us as long as you need to. I can get you set up with a job. Perhaps introduce you to a nice stable man. There’s a physicist here who is handsome and charming.”
“A charming physicist? Isn’t that an oxymoron?”
“Oh, Virginia. It’s not. He would be a much better choice in a partner than some professional athlete. Even the kind ones are womanizers. All that time on the road. All those groupies.”
“I’m not dating him, Mom. I don’t plan on dating him or sleeping with him. I’m going to do this job and do it well because it can mean a lot for my design firm. I’ll have enough money from this to live comfortably for a long time and you won’t have to worry about me.”
“I always worry about you. I always will. I’m your mother, and it’s my most important job and the greatest thing I will ever do. You understand that, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mom. I’ve got to get back to work.”
“All right, darling. Just remember you’re welcome home anytime.”
“I know. I’ll talk to you later. Goodbye.” Virginia hung up and walked out of the spare bedroom she was making sketches of. She wasn’t sure how to feel about the conversation she had just had. Her parents were there for her. She could come home if she wanted. She guessed that, in the back of her mind, she’d always known that. There were some days, when she’d had no work at all, that she’d seriously thought about going back to New Jersey, to her father, who was always calm, reliable and strong, to her mother, who was always so sure about everything. But she knew she would suffocate there.
She needed to be creative. She needed to work in a job where she didn’t do the same thing every day. That was why this job was so important to her. She had to do a good job. She had to do things the right way. She didn’t want her mother to think that she had failed at this, too.
She walked back into the great room to see movers hard at work. The first item on her to-do list was to have the house painted. Painting a house this size was going to take some time, but she had to get rid all the furniture that she wasn’t going to use. As first glance there hadn’t seemed like much, but there was. It was just engulfed in a house of this size.
“Are you sure you two can carry that table? It’s, like, a thousand pounds.”
“You don’t have to worry about us, ma’am. If we can’t handle this you get your money back.” One of the moving guys winked at her. He was cute, with brown skin, a baby face and dimples. His partner was blond haired, blue eyed and equally adorable. She was trying to hire as many local people as possible while she worked on this house instead of hiring people from off island. And the recent college grads’ moving company seemed grateful for the work.
She had learned browsing the internet that Hideaway Island had some great craftsmen. The mayor of this island made furniture from salvaged wood that was some of the most beautiful work she had ever seen. She wished she could fill the entire house with it, but she knew that to create a look fit for the house of a superstar she was going to have to go in a different, grander direction.
But for the sleeping areas and smaller spaces she was going to use as many handcrafted items as she could. This might be a mansion fit for a king, but some parts of it should still feel homey.
She watched the movers carefully flip over the table and screw the legs off. “And you’re sure this stuff will find a good home? I’d hate to see any of it thrown away.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the blond one said with a little bit of a Southern drawl. “The mayor collects furniture, and what he doesn’t use in his business he donates to families in need. There was a bad fire on the island a few months ago that burned down three homes. The mayor is helping those people rebuild. I’m sure they would appreciate this furniture.”
“Do they need anything else?” She heard Carlos’s soft, deep voice behind her and she felt a tiny bit of...she wasn’t sure what to label it. Excitement? Delight? Like being in high school and seeing your crush at his locker? Even to her ears that seemed corny. It was just that she rarely saw him during the days. Sometimes he would pass her on his way to his gym, but most of the time she didn’t see or hear from him until sunset, when he would emerge from whatever it was he was doing and seek food.
She liked that time of day. Most of her mornings were spent on the phone with suppliers and contractors, but she felt isolated in this big house. As beautiful and peaceful as it was, it wasn’t Miami. She was okay with her own company, but she didn’t like feeling alone in this house. She wondered how he could live for so long without human interaction.
“I don’t know for sure, sir,” the mover said slowly. By the look in his eyes she could tell he was starstruck. “I—I could ask the mayor.”
“Please do. I would like to help, if I can.”
The kid nodded. “I know this may not seem the most professional thing to do, but can I shake your hand?”
Carlos nodded and extended his head. “It’s nice to meet you...”
“Brady,” he said. “That’s my partner, Sam. We’re honored to work for you, sir. Real honored. I just about cried when I saw you go down in that playoff game. My mama even said a prayer for you when she heard you were going into surgery.”
“I appreciate that,” Carlos said quietly, but he had a slight pained look in his eyes. There was a shyness to him, a humbleness that she didn’t expect from a pro athlete, and she found it very appealing.
“We promise to do
a good job.”
“I know you’ll work hard for me. Thanks, fellas.”
Brady smiled and nodded. “Come on, Sam. Let’s get this stuff on the truck.”
They hoisted up the tabletop and went out the door, each of them grinning and whispering.
“I guess they didn’t expect to see you.”
“I wasn’t expecting to make an appearance.” He looked at her again. His eyes swept over her body, taking her in as he did every time he saw her. In the way that caused goose bumps to break out on her flesh. She had never dressed for a man, and she wasn’t going to start now, but part of her wondered if he approved of what he saw. She dressed comfortably, like herself. Not the way she had on her first day here. If there was one thing she’d learned about the man in her short time here, it was that he only wanted her to be herself.
“You were nice to him.”
“Of course I was nice to him. My mother raised me right. You’re getting rid of the furniture?”
“Yes. Was there anything you wanted to keep?”
“No.” He shook his head. “No.”
A long moment of silence stretched between them. Why was he here now? He had spent the day away from her, avoiding her, it seemed. She had tried a couple of times to update him on her work, but he’d never seemed interested, never seemed to care what she was doing. Some designers might love having such freedom, but it made her crazy never knowing if she was doing something he would like. It made him one of the hardest clients she’d ever had. She wasn’t really working for him or with him. She was just on her own. “Was there something you wanted from me?”
“Maybe I just wanted to see you.”
“Considering that you avoid me like the plague most of the time, I doubt it.”
He stepped closer to her and she could feel the warm of his body in the cool air-conditioned room. If she stepped just a few inches toward him, closed the gap between them, her chest would be pressed against his. She wondered what that would feel like, his muscled body against hers, wondered what his skin would feel like, his strong back under her hands. Would it be just as hard as the rest of him looked? A vision of herself in bed, legs wrapped around him, digging her nails into his hard, muscled back popped into her head.
