Up to Me (Shore Secrets)

by Christi Barth

  Which was why he paced in front of a room loaded with people probably ready to run him out of town on a rail. Couldn’t go yet, though. Not before he tried, in some small way, to right the wrong he’d committed. So Gray climbed the six steps, pushed open the heavy gate, and strode into the ballroom.

  His eyes were immediately drawn to the mosaic-tiled fireplace at the opposite end, wide enough he could probably park an electric car in it. Dawn stood behind a podium on a dais, with Ella and Piper in chairs off to the side. Ella looked—he took a second to drink in the sight of her—great, like always. Like jettisoning him from her life hadn’t cost her anything. That stung. No, it stabbed at him. Maybe he’d read her all wrong. Maybe he’d lost his head, and his heart, to a woman who saw him as nothing more than a fun way to spend two weeks. Shit. Well, if that was true, then it meant he hadn’t hurt her too badly, after all. Made it easier to walk away, right?

  The darkness outside meant that each of the floor-to-ceiling windows interspersing the honey-colored wood panels reflected back the standing-room-only crowd. Gray estimated at least three hundred people filled the seats, with more lined up along the back. At least he’d be able to easily hang back, unnoticed for a few minutes.

  Dawn tucked her hair behind her ears and leaned into the microphone. “Look, I’ve been on the phone with the insurance company all day. When I wasn’t talking to them, the police were ripping apart the office around me and asking a million questions.”

  She looked like she’d been through the wringer. No makeup. Reading glasses hanging from a chain around her neck, even though there weren’t any papers in front of her. And while Gray didn’t pretend to have much fashion sense, he knew her shiny yellow blouse didn’t go with the green sweater and...hell, were those dark purple jeans? Dawn must’ve grabbed the top three items out of her clean laundry pile. He hoped for her sake that the local paper wasn’t here, taking pictures.

  “Did they have any answers? Any leads?” asked someone near the front of the room.

  “No. But these things take time. There’s a process to follow. They do have high hopes that we’ll recover the money. But the investigation has to be thorough in order to not miss any loose ends. You all have to be patient. I’m supposed to tell you that this could take weeks, maybe even months.”

  “While they spend all our money!” a man yelled.

  From the angry ripples of chatter around him, Gray could tell her speech wasn’t helping to calm the masses. He heard people muttering about how to pay for the gas in the police cruisers. Hell, how to pay the police, the garbage men, and an idiot with skewed priorities asking if this meant the Fourth of July fireworks would be canceled. Right. Because making your ears ring with a barrage of M-80s once a year was right up there with keeping the fire truck rolling.

  Gray didn’t have to hear any more. It was time to offer up his help. Hopefully pride and stubbornness wouldn’t let Ella or the town turn him away. Before he could shoulder even ten steps down the side aisle, Dawn tapped the mic to quiet the room.

  “We have insurance. Not that we ever expected a scenario like this one, but we are prepared.” Her fingers skimmed nervously up and down the mic cord, but her voice remained steady. “It’ll just take time to go through the motions and process the claim. Our carrier can’t risk giving our town any money until the police are sure that Pam Flickinger and Larry Paulson acted alone.”

  A fat hand with long, hot pink talons shot up, wiggled. “Do they suspect you?”

  Ella half rose from her chair, but Piper pulled her down. They both looked ready to leap off the stage and slap the silly out of the woman. Dawn marched out from behind the podium. Peered down at the audience. “Loretta Nash, I house-sit for you twice a year when you go on your junkets to Atlantic City. I feed your five cats, water your plants, and never so much as take a soda out of your fridge as payment. Are you seriously asking me that question?”

  “Yes.”

  Ballsy little bitch. A crisis like this should pull the town together, not make them turn on each other. Especially a town as supportive as this one. Gray thought the odds were good that next time Loretta wanted to play the slots, she’d have to take the kitties with her.

  Dawn threw her arms wide. “Well, I’m standing here, aren’t I? I’m not behind bars, and I haven’t disappeared. I think that’s a pretty solid indication I’m not a part of this theft.”

  “You weren’t a part of stopping it, either.”

  Gray whipped his head left to see if he could identify the sullen grumbler. Tall, with a thick thatch of white hair that Gray remembered, even though he couldn’t come up with a name to go with it. The guy ran an old-school barbershop with a striped pole on Main Street. Right next to his son’s way-more-upscale salon. No love lost there, according to some hints Ella had dropped. Gray needed to get up to the front before a few outliers managed to turn the whole room against Dawn.

  She held her ground, but sank in on herself a little. “I’m going to do my very best to help fix it, though.”

  “So am I.” Ella’s voice rang out across the room even as she hurried forward to the podium. “I don’t have one of those fancy, eight-foot-long checks to present. No time to pull together visual aids for tonight. So you’ll just have to settle for the real thing.” She held out a folded slip of paper. What was she up to?

  Dawn opened it, gasped, eyes flying wide open. “So very many zeros.” Immediately, she tried to hand it right back. “No. We can’t take your money.”

  Money? What money? Gray knew Ella’s account and that of the Manor were tapped out. Otherwise it wouldn’t have attracted R&M in the first place. She scooched to the opposite side of the podium. Hands up, fingers wide, most definitely not taking the check back.

  “You don’t have a choice. I insist, here, in front of all our friends and neighbors, that you accept my check on behalf of the town.”

  Curling her fingers around the edge of the dark, carved wood, Dawn leaned in—which unfortunately put her even closer to the mic. In a uselessly low voice, she said, “Ella, you don’t even have this kind of money. If you did, you’d be buying that new furnace you said the Manor needs.”

  “I didn’t have this kind of money. But I do now. And to quash any rumors before they get started, I’ll tell all of you how I got it.” She squared her shoulders and stared out across the sea of faces. “I finally accepted the settlement on my parents’ death.”

  Holy shit. Gray leaned against the wall, stunned. Ella really had conquered all her demons. Or at least wrestled them to the ground. He was so damn proud of her. And blown away by her strength, yet again. What a woman. Gray pinched his eyes shut. She’d been his, and he’d fucked it up. Ruined any chance at being with her ever again. All for a damn job. Of all the stupid, imbecilic, dickwad moves to make. He’d regret it for the rest of his life. Because he’d never find anyone who compared to Ella.

  “I never wanted the money for myself,” she continued. “There’s no scenario where I’d spend a cent of that on clothes or jewelry or even a dream trip to France. My family, however, put down roots here. For decades, they went out of their way to be pillars of the community. And then, the way you all pulled together to help me over the past three years—well, the least I can do to repay you is to hand over this check.” The brilliant smile started in her eyes and soon that lit her whole face. “I know my parents would approve of this decision.”

  Gray started the applause. People joined in quickly. Chairs scraped back, one by one, until every single person was on their feet, clapping for Ella’s selfless and generous gesture. They all got it. They knew, from reading the journal, at least some of what it was costing her emotionally to accept this money. She’d come full circle from the broken girl who needed their help. Now she stood before them as a champion. Gray was so damn glad he’d gotten to see her moment of triumph.

  Dawn, with tears track
ing down her cheeks, was the only one who still didn’t look convinced. “What about the Manor? The furnace that needs replacing, the new dining room linens you should order?”

  A shrug. A flip of that sweet and sexy ponytail. “We’ll get by. We always do. Besides, I trust the system. The police will find Pam and Larry. They’re not exactly master criminals. Come on, we all know Pam can add a string of numbers in her head at the speed of light, but that’s more of a party trick. Let’s be clear; she’s just not that bright.” A ripple of laughter swelled through the room. The tide had shifted. “So consider this a loan—a way to tide us over until the town’s insurance comes through, as we all know it will. You can also consider it my vote of confidence in Dawn Cosgrove as our mayor.”

  Another shuffling stir of feet, and then a smatter of applause. It didn’t grow as big as the one for Ella, but the message of support was loud enough. Gray used the moment to shoulder through the rest of the way to the dais. Without stopping to ask permission—because really, the chance of Ella kicking him to the curb stood at about one hundred and ten percent —Gray leapt up and planted himself dead center. Kinda wished he had full catcher’s gear on, too, to protect against whatever might be hurled his way. Curses. Slaps. Chairs. He deserved it all.

  “I’ve got a way to help. You can consider it my vote of confidence in this town.” Gray didn’t want to risk looking at Ella. So he stared straight ahead. Ward, front row, about two feet away, glowered right back at him. Great. Better talk fast before he got bounced. “A lot of you don’t know me. I’m Graydon Locke. I’ve been enjoying the hospitality of Mayhew Manor since the beginning of the month. This town impressed me. Which is saying something, because I travel a lot. But you have a spirit of unity here that’s unique.”

  “Gray, what are you doing?” Ella hissed in his ear. He didn’t even acknowledge her. Better to plow ahead and get it all out.

  “I know you’re in a tough spot right now. So I spent all day on the phone, pulling strings. You’ve heard of Ithaca’s annual Fourth of July marathon?” Nods. Murmurs. It was enough. “Their sponsor dropped out last week.” To be more exact, their sponsor, a workout-gear line, was fielding a slew of ugly accusations about child labor in China. They’d contracted into survival mode, which meant not putting their logo anywhere for the next few months. Or shelling out any money to anything besides a crack team of lawyers. “They’ve got thousands of runners signed up to participate, but without a sponsor, they can’t pull it off.”

  In a noisy clatter of heels, Piper crowded up next to him. “We’ve got no sponsor, no runners, and we’re not Ithaca.” She ticked each point off on her fingers.

  “No, but you’re only an hour away.” Gray kept facing out. He wanted not just Piper to hear the response, but the whole room. “Close enough that the runners can keep their hotel rooms. We can shift the entire race—the 10k, the half and the full marathon—to Seneca Lake. With Agon as your sponsor.”

  Casey, sitting next to Ward, goggled at him. “Agon Athletics? They’re the biggest name in running shoes, gear, apparel, you name it.”

  “Which is why this switch will work. Ithaca’s on board with handing it to you if they can keep a quarter of the profits. Considering they were about to call the whole thing off as of yesterday, this is a win. Allows them to save a little face, reap a little profit. And Agon will only kick in the money if the race moves here.” It had taken four phone calls and most of the night to convince them to hold fast to that condition. Gray still couldn’t believe he’d pulled it off.

  Ward stood. Spread his legs. Planted his fists on his hips. Could not have looked more menacing if he’d added a shield, a sword, and a semi-automatic. “The Fourth of July’s right around the corner. This would be a shit-ton of work.”

  “Sure. You need it, though. A big race, with a mammoth sponsor, won’t just bring you people and tourist dollars as they fill hotel rooms, eat in your restaurants, drink in the bars. It’ll bring you goodwill. Something you’ll need once the story of your missing money hits the media.”

  “Why would Agon help us?”

  “I called in a favor.” Sure, it was a favor he’d been saving for more than ten years. A lengthy and complicated story that boiled down to alcohol, stupidity (Josh’s, not his), and lying his ass off to prevent expulsion (Josh’s, not his). When your ex-college roommate was on a meteoric rise through one of the biggest corporations in the nation, it paid to hang on to your chit. To save it for the one time it’d really make a difference. Gray couldn’t think of a better use than cashing it in for whatever small way it might repair some of the hurt he’d caused Ella.

  “Look, I know it’ll be work. But it’ll bring in guaranteed money, exposure and free advertising. All things you need. Desperately. I promised Agon that if anyplace could pick up Ithaca’s slack on a moment’s notice, it’s here.” And that had taken some fancy talking with not just Josh, but Josh’s boss, the head of the marketing department, and half the Ithaca city council. “Like I said, you’ve got something special here. Tenacity, genuine caring and a feeling of community that is as strong as that lake out there is deep.” He handed a piece of paper to Dawn. “This is the number for Ithaca’s mayor. He’s expecting your call. This can be a done deal before you all leave tonight.”

  Dawn took it, but said nothing. Instead, she looked at Ella. As did Ward, Piper, Casey and most of the room. Unable to resist one last look himself, Gray finally turned. Dawn might be the mayor, but now more than ever Ella was the heart of this town. They’d all follow her lead. Would she take his olive branch? Or throw it back in his face?

  Her green eyes were as cool as the moss on the trees he’d jogged by every day. Not a hint of emotion flared behind them. And since her knee wasn’t connecting with his nuts, he’d take it as a win. But that coolness iced around his bleeding heart. He couldn’t stand the distance between them. Or knowing that it would grow with every mile he drove out of town, never to be repaired. Shit, this sucked.

  “Thank you, Gray. We appreciate the lengths you went to on our behalf.”

  “It was the least I could do.”

  Before she could hit him with a snarky response, Gray nodded at his friends—or at least, the people who’d been his friends for ten amazing days—and hopped off the dais. Any more time in Ella’s presence was too painful. He’d done what he came to do. No need to torture himself with her proximity. Now that he’d helped save her beloved town, Gray could leave with a clear conscience. Hell, far from clear. The smog-filled air of Beijing was a million times more clear than his conscience. But this was the most he could do to right the wrongs he’d heaped upon Ella. That...and clearing out as soon as possible. She’d already kicked him out of her life. But he’d finish the job and clear out of her hotel, her town, tonight. Because there was nothing left for him here.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Gray zipped his suitcase. Opened the door to set it in the hallway, but stopped at the last second. Call it OCD or being a veteran traveler, but he always made one last swing into the bathroom to double check the mirrored cabinet over the sink. Saw the navy comb printed with Mayhew Manor across the top lying on the shelf. He wanted to take it. Reached for it, even. Then dropped his hand. Stupid. He didn’t need a souvenir. Memories of Ella were seared into his brain like the char marks on a well-grilled steak.

  The hallway door crashed into the wall. “What the hell are you doing?” bellowed Ward. He charged straight through the suite to confront Gray, stopping on the threshold of the bathroom. Seriously, did people in this town not get the knocking gene?

  “Leaving,” he said curtly.

  Ward braced his hands overhead on the doorjamb. “Why?”

  “That’s funny. Seeing as how you looked ready to toss me out on my ass not just yesterday, but half an hour ago.” Gray held up his arms, palms out. “No need to get your muscle
on. I’ll be history in less than five minutes.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “That’s no news bulletin, trust me.”

  “Why are you really leaving?” When Gray didn’t answer, Ward ran a hand down the edges of his goatee. “Neither one of us is going to enjoy this talk. So suck it up and get it over with. Fast.”

  “Do I really have to stand in a room covered in rose wallpaper and defend my decision?”

  “No. You can do it out here.” Ward dropped back a few steps, waited for Gray to pass by. Then he kicked the hallway door shut with the heel of his work boot. “Spit it out.”

  Fine. He’d seen Ward’s fighting moves up close and personal. Didn’t want them aimed in his direction. But he kept his jacket on. Wished briefly that it was a flak jacket instead of black leather. This explanation wouldn’t take long, and wasn’t up for discussion.

  Gray spread his arms wide. “My assignment’s over. Time to move on. And there’s damn sure no reason to stick around and take in the scenery for the next few days. I’d spend the whole time wondering if Joel spat in my food. Or if the maids unleashed a swarm of bedbugs.”

  “What about Ella?”

  “Oh, you mean the woman whose heart I broke? Betrayed her trust? I’m sure she’s on board with me checking out early.” The woman he’d only visit in his dreams for the rest of his life. The one who made him want to throw it all away, just to be with her. The woman who made him smile with a thought, at the scent of her hair left behind on his pillow.

  Ward stalked forward. Pointed an accusing finger that stopped a hiccup away from Gray’s chest. “You said you love her.”