Joe saw this as a perfect opportunity to put his free arm around her back and pull her close. “Great shoes. Can we try that again?”
She laughed and tried to move back, but he tightened his hold. “Martin said it’s time to start dancing. Everyone is waiting for someone else to break the ice.”
Her eyes went wide. “Not me.”
“Why not? It’s your party.”
“But…”
He took her hand and headed for the jukebox. “How ’bout a few golden oldies, as your son would say?”
As the first strains of a Police song filled the air, Joe led her to the corner of the room designated as the dance floor. People clapped, so Joe swept low in a fair imitation of a courtly knight. Lisa rolled her eyes before giving a mock curtsy.
Within a few seconds, six other couples had joined them. “See?” he said with a wink. “They were waiting for you to have the first dance, like at a wedding.”
Lisa’s smile seemed bittersweet. Did she regret the fact that she’d been deprived of that ceremony with his brother? “How does it feel to be a graduate?” he asked.
Her mostly bare shoulders lifted and fell. “The same, actually. I guess I was expecting some kind of obvious transformation, but I’m still me,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh.
“Thank goodness.” God, he wanted to taste her shoulder.
She looked at him a few seconds as if trying to decide if he was teasing. He changed the subject. “Mom told me you offered to handle the arrangements for her wedding.”
“She’s had so much on her mind lately, I was afraid she’d suffer a meltdown if I didn’t step in. Did she mention that I signed you up for the work detail, too?”
He nodded, his gaze fixated on her lips, which were the color of moist cotton candy. He’d never wanted to kiss someone more.
As if sensing his intention, she broke contact with him, dancing out of his arms. The look in her eyes was both flirty and wary. Joe didn’t blame her. They were adults, yes. They were attracted to each other, yes. But they also had too much between them to make a simple fling possible.
Besides that, Joe owed her an apology. He’d spent his entire high-school years lusting after his brother’s girlfriend. When Fate had granted his fondest desire, Joe had been so overwhelmed by what he felt for her, he’d assumed she felt the same. He’d pushed her to choose him over Patrick. Instead, she’d appeared mortified by what had happened between them. He’d left town in a huff and didn’t see her again until Patrick’s wake.
He’d flown home in shock. Eaten up by grief and guilt and self-loathing, he’d lost it when she’d admitted that she’d told Patrick the truth about what they’d done that night. Joe had accused her of laying too heavy a load on his brother’s shoulders. “What the hell did you think he’d do—congratulate you on being so honest? It’s no wonder he drank.”
He’d been cruel. And wrong. He needed to tell her that.
When the song ended, he reached for her hand and led her toward the kitchen. “Where are you going?” she asked, resisting him.
“I noticed we were running out of chicken wings.”
She looked suspicious but followed after him when he started walking again. They met Maureen and Gunny coming through the swinging doors. Gunny held one side so Maureen could exit with the tray she carried in both hands. “Having fun, dear?” she asked Lisa.
“It’s the best party I’ve ever had, Maureen. Thank you,” Lisa said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.
Maureen looked at Joe and said, “There’s another tray of pigs-in-blankets about ready to come out of the oven. Would you get them for me?”
He nodded. “Happy to help.”
The twinkle in his mother’s eyes made him wonder if she saw through his ploy to get Lisa alone. He nodded at Gunny, who reached into the pocket of his floral-print shirt and withdrew an envelope. “For you, sweet girl.”
Lisa looked surprised, but she smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, too. “Thank you so much.”
Moments later, they were alone in the kitchen. Joe had to let go of Lisa’s hand so she could open her card. “Wow,” she exclaimed. “A hundred-dollar bill. How generous!”
She looked at him a moment before sneaking a glance over her shoulder. In a soft voice, she said, “This makes me feel guilty for not being more enthused about their wedding. I like Gunny, but I don’t want to see your mother leave. Selfish, aren’t I?”
Joe settled his backside against the chrome prep table and crossed one ankle over the other. “Actually, you’re one of the most selfless people I know. Look at everything you’ve done for our family.”
Her cheeks turned red and her gaze dropped to the floor. “Joe, there’s something you should know. I—”
He stopped her. “One confession at a time. I owe you an apology.”
She looked up. “For what?”
“For being an ass the day of Patrick’s funeral. I was mad at the world, and I needed somebody to blame for what happened. I didn’t care who I hurt in the process. You. My dad. Hell, I probably said something nasty to my mother, too, but I don’t remember.” He glanced toward the door. “Don’t ask her, okay? I’m a Kelly. Humbling myself once a day is all I can take.”
Her lips curved upward but only for a moment. “Why are you bringing this up tonight, Joe?”
“Because ever since you picked me up at the airport I’ve felt like there was some ponderous weight between us. Patrick. The past. Our past. And, of course, my asinine behavior at the funeral. I was hoping if I apologized we might find a way to get past it.”
“Why? Because we’re going to be working together—well, in close proximity—for the next few weeks?”
Her tone sounded contentious. “Yes, partly.”
“Because you’re already bored and need a little romance to spice up your stay?”
Momentarily stunned speechless, he watched her tap the corner of the envelope to her lips. “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but it isn’t going to happen. I may be a small town girl who is too afraid of life to risk leaving Worthington, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have plans. I do. And you aren’t part of them.”
Too afraid of life to risk leaving Worthington. His words came back to haunt him. The night by the lake, after they’d made love, Joe had asked Lisa to go with him. She’d refused, and he’d accused her of being too afraid to take a chance on a bigger life outside of Worthington.
“I was eighteen and full of myself. I thought I had all the answers when, in fact, I didn’t even know what the questions were.”
He shook his head and made a gesture toward the bar where the sound of laughter filtered under the door. “You proved me wrong, didn’t you? You’ve met your goal of graduating from college. You have a lot of friends who think you’re fabulous, and your son has turned out great—despite a few little age-related glitches. You have a lot more to show for your life than I do.”
She set down the card and took a step closer. “How can you say that? You’re a successful filmmaker. You’re living your dream.”
“I left here convinced I was going to be the next Steven Spielberg. That didn’t happen.”
She smiled the way she would have if Brandon had said something self-effacing. “So neither of us has set the world on fire,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve decided there comes a time when you either embrace your life—flaws and all—or give up.”
She shook her head and a lock of golden-red hair escaped from her fancy updo and danced across her shoulders. He took her by the wrist and pulled her a step closer. There bodies weren’t quite touching, but he could reach her by leaning forward.
He moved slowly, giving her a chance to back away, but she didn’t. He put his mouth on hers. She didn’t respond right away, but after a heartbeat her mouth opened. At first, all he could taste was the tangy flavor of the wine she’d been drinking, then her tongue touched his and memories poured into his mind. Even after all these years, she still tasted like Lisa.
But Lisa apparently didn’t need him.
Stepping back, she held on to the table with one hand and used the other to touch her lips, as if making sure they were still there.
“I stole a kiss, not your lips,” Joe said, trying to lighten the moment.
She didn’t smile. “I can’t do this, Joe. Not now. Not until… There’s something you…” She didn’t finish the thought. “I’m sorry. I have to get back to my guests.”
With that, she walked out of the room.
He stared at the door. “There’s what?” He started to follow her, intending to get an answer to his question, but paused when a whiff of something burning made his nose twitch.
“Oh, crap,” he muttered. Grabbing a fat pot holder, he rushed to the pizza oven and pulled out a cookie sheet filled with very crispy miniature hot dogs wrapped in pastry. The overly toasted appetizers reminded him of the obvious: this was Lisa’s party. Their private business would have to wait for a less public forum.
IN THE WEEK AND A HALF following her graduation, Lisa had watched her life change in ways that both thrilled and terrified her. She’d opened an escrow account to purchase the building that housed Joe’s Place, signed papers at the bank that put her deeply in debt and applied to the state to transfer the liquor license to her name.
In addition, she’d spent every spare minute helping her son catch up on his schoolwork. Thankfully Brandon had passed the drug test his grandmother Constance had administered, but he’d also admitted to drinking during his lunch hour and after school. He’d returned to Alateen and seemed to be getting back on track. He was going to finish the term with Bs and Cs instead of As, but he’d proven that he could do the work and stay sober—however resentfully. Today was the last day of school, which was mostly an open morning devoted to signing yearbooks, so she’d given him back the keys to his car on the condition he showed up for work by noon.
She checked her watch.
“If you’re worried about Brandon, I could send my covert operatives to check on him. They’re young. They’d pass.”
Lisa looked up to find Joe leaning casually against the bar. He nodded toward a trio of college students—two men and one woman—milling around the sturdy-looking tripod that his camera was sitting atop. She pulled the cuff of her denim work shirt over her wrist. “He’ll be here. He seemed genuinely interested in being part of your…um…film crew.”
Frowning, she studied the threesome, who were all dressed similarly to Joe in lumpy cargo pants and baggy vests with extra pockets. Only their color schemes varied, from khaki to camouflage to solid black—the woman’s.
“Tell me again. Who are these people and what, exactly, are they doing here?”
“They’re film students from your alma mater. When I was at your graduation, I bumped into our high-school drama teacher. I asked him who to call if I wanted to hire some interns for a project.” He motioned toward the trio. “Meet Bianca, Roger and Tim.”
Lisa could tell the three, currently poring over a loose-leaf ringed binder not unlike the kind Brandon used in school, were thrilled by the chance to work with a real Hollywood director.
“Why do you need so many?”
“They’re non-union.”
“Huh?”
“That was a joke. They actually volunteered to work for free, but I remember being a poor college student, so I’m paying them ten bucks an hour.”
“They’re going to operate the camera?”
“Some of the time. To start out, they’re going to log shots of your crew remodeling Joe’s Place. Boring, but necessary since I picture using a time-lapsed clip. We’ll condense three or four days of footage into thirty or forty seconds worth of tape.”
She vaguely remembered hearing this plan but her brain had been preoccupied with scheduling the installation of skylights, booking a venue and caterer for Maureen’s wedding and quizzing Brandon on the vagaries of Hemingway. “And this is important because…”
He smiled good-naturedly. “Because a missed shot is always the best.”
“Pardon?”
He stood up straight. “You can’t make a movie without raw footage. I don’t know yet what I’ll use, but I can’t use what I don’t have, so we film everything.”
Lisa still didn’t see how a movie about a small-town bar would be successful, but according to Maureen, Joe was determined to make this movie. He’d set up his editing operation in her family room and had been copying stacks of old videos to digital format. And she’d heard from a number of sources, including Jen, that Joe and his new helpers had been all over town talking to people and taking pictures. They’d even visited the historical society.
On the positive side, that meant he was too busy to talk about what had happened between them at her graduation party. His kiss. Her near confession.
“Are you ready?”
Lisa’s heart jumped in her chest. “What?”
“Your contractor just pulled up. Lights, action, camera…so to speak,” he said with a teasing wink.
Lisa spun on the heel of her work boots and marched across the yellowed vinyl flooring that would be one of the first things to go. The boots felt stiff and rubbed against her ankle. She hadn’t worn them since she’d switched majors from construction to finance.
She paused, hand on the levered knob, and glanced at Joe, who had joined his crew. Suddenly, the thought of having her daily progress—or lack of progress—immortalized on film made her panic.
She motioned for Joe to come to her. In a near whisper, she said, “What if my contractor doesn’t want to be in a movie? Did you get a release from him? What if this whole thing takes longer than we thought? This is an old building. There could be all kinds of snags and there might be things that aren’t up to code. If the building department—”
“Whoa, slow down,” Joe said, rubbing her upper arms the way a coach would encourage a struggling boxer. “Take a deep breath. I’ve got this covered, Leese. Trust me. I’ve done this before.”
His touch was comforting, but his tone seemed faintly condescending, which irked the heck out of her. She pushed his hands away. “Well, I haven’t. And it’s my money.”
He cocked his head. “Actually, I’m paying for the remodeling, remember? And I already got signed releases from everybody who will be working here.”
“Oh.” She looked down. “I guess I’m still struggling with this whole Hollywood-production thing. When you said filming, I pictured you in high school. Camera in hand.”
“The industry has changed. Thanks to desktop editing, anyone with a decent camera and a computer can make a movie.” He didn’t sound happy about that, but he shrugged and added, “The good news is you can make a movie fairly cheaply.”
“How cheap?” she asked bluntly. Through the window, she saw Bob Gamble, the general contractor who’d taught her building classes in college, get out of his truck.
He shrugged. “Don’t worry. This is low, low budget.”
She put her hand on the lever and pushed down slowly. She had one more question that needed asking. “What happens to your business in L.A. while you’re up here doing what you want to do?”
He blinked. “Wow. You’re full of tough questions this morning. I guess you could say I’m between jobs at the moment. I’ve mostly been editing other people’s work for the past ten months. That pays the rent on my studio, but it’s not the same as this.” He made an all-encompassing gesture. “This is what I do.”
Lisa looked at his camera crew. In a voice loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, she said, “Okay, but I’m not covering anybody’s worker’s comp injuries. And that goes double for you. I remember what a klutz you were in shop. Didn’t you nearly cut off your pinkie?”
Grinning, Joe held up his right hand. “The tip is still numb.
I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I remember the blood,” she said with a grimace. Her stomach turned over, which was the real reason she couldn’t have been a nurse. She got light-headed just thinking about pain and suffering.
She yanked open the door as Bob approached, flanked by his two helpers. In his mid-fifties with a solid silver mustache, the contractor was highly respected in Worthington. Lisa knew she’d only been able to afford his help because as a former student, she’d been given a discount.
“Morning, Lisa. Ready to do this?”
“Sure am,” she said, kicking a rubber wedge under the door to keep it open. “You know my strategy. I don’t want to be closed any longer than necessary, plus I want to retain much of the same ambience of the old Joe’s Place, while giving it a fresh new look.”
“Lighter and brighter,” Bob said. “That means we start by installing the skylights.”
Joe shook hands with all three men then said, “What about the attic?”
Bob shrugged. “Not a problem. The kind of skylight Lisa wants is designed to retrofit almost any roofline. The main thing I need you and Lisa to do is move any boxes or junk that might be stored up there. Shall we take a look?”
“I spotted a bunch of old beer signs up there,” Lisa said. “They might be the kind of stuff you want for your movie, Joe. They’ll take you right down memory lane.”
As Joe explained his project to the contractor, Lisa opened an eight-foot ladder under the access hole to the attic. “Well,” she said, looking directly at the camera held by one of Joe’s interns, “here goes nothing.”
THE WORK WAS HOT AND DUSTY, which was why Joe opted to leave his camera on the main floor with two of his students at the helm. Any of the more interesting discoveries he carted down the ladder to be opened on tape.
The first trip down memory lane came when Joe opened a box marked FB and found his brother’s old football uniform. He lifted the badly wrinkled jersey to his chest.
“Purple and white, fight, fight, fight,” a voice called from above.
His Real Father (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 11
