Penthouse Suite

by Sandra Chastain

  “Is it a sports car?”

  “No, just a plain old Chevy.”

  “Perfect, we should have driven it.”

  “Why on earth would you want to trade this beautiful machine for my ratty car?”

  “Because,” he said as he turned down a gravel road toward the ocean, “it probably doesn’t have bucket seats.” Max brought the car to an abrupt stop at the private parking area adjacent to the Hidden Cove Yacht Club. He turned off the engine, reached across the gear box, and pulled Kate close.

  “It also doesn’t run,” she whispered breathlessly.

  Max groaned softly, twisting his head so that his mouth fit perfectly against hers. She’d known his kiss would be hot, hard, and demanding. What she hadn’t known was that she would lose herself in its power.

  He pulled back and nuzzled her cheek as he steadied his breathing.

  “You may have to move your meeting here.”

  “Meeting! Oh, hell. We’d better get going. I’ll get the cooler. You bring the blanket.”

  “Blanket?” Before she could open her door, he already had the cooler in one hand and a blanket draped over one arm.

  “So, I’ll bring them both. You just bring the dessert.”

  “Dessert?”

  “You, Kathryn. Follow me. Remember, all work and no play makes Max dull.” Max waited for Kate to get out of the car, placed a wickedly suggestive kiss on her forehead, and marched briskly onto the floating pier. Kate scrambled down the dock behind him.

  “I don’t really think that you’re dull, Max,” Kate protested, her voice a little subdued as she realized that Max had called her Kathryn. She wasn’t sure why that bothered her, but it did. Kathryn was another person, the mysterious woman from Max’s dinner party. She was Kate, and Kate had her feet planted squarely on the ground.

  “Neither did I,” Max confessed over his shoulder, “but I’m beginning to think that Aunt Dorothea was right. Maybe the word is monotonous, tedious, stodgy.”

  “Maybe the word is dormant.”

  “I think I like the idea of being awakened, Kate. Let’s get to the boat.”

  Gray and white gulls made shrill angry noises as they streaked across the water at the dock’s edge. Kate glanced around, seeing for the first time the fleet of assorted boats bobbing gently in the cobalt blue water. Smartly dressed people were climbing aboard various boats. They called their greetings to Max, who seemed to know everyone. The scene was bright and happy. Big fluffy clouds ballooned across the sky in the bright sunshine.

  Max’s boat seemed much too large for one man to sail. Kate swallowed a gasp as she read its name: Secret Lady.

  “Take this, Kate,” Max said from the open area leading down to what was apparently a sleeping cabin. He handed her a bright orange life jacket.

  “Slip it on like a vest and snap the catch,” he instructed as he fastened his own. “Every passenger on board the Secret Lady wears one.”

  Kate complied silently, allowing herself to examine his trim, tanned body as he emerged from the compartment. He was wearing white sneakers, crisp white shorts, and a dark pink polo shirt. He looked like … like raspberry sherbert. And she’d always had a weakness for raspberries.

  Max seemed unaware of her scrutiny as he moved to the seat near the tiller and motioned for Kate to sit down beside him. He turned the key, and the churning sound of the boat’s motor filled the strained silence. “We’ll use the motor to move us out of the cove, into the bay, and out into deep water. Then the wind will power us.”

  Any thought Kate had of conversation died when the engine roared to life, and the boat moved slowly out of the cover. Soon they had left behind the gleaming white beaches with the charming names. Kate felt the tension drain away. When they were well out into the Gulf, Max killed the engine and began to unfurl the sails.

  “First we hoist the mainsail, then the jib. Then we winch up the sails. That means pull them tight. We’ll just trim them so they won’t flutter, then we’ll cleat them.”

  “Cleat them?” Kate asked.

  “Fasten them down.”

  Kate marveled at his quick actions. She’d never seen anybody so competent, so sure of himself. There was no wasted motion in this man’s life, no beat-up old Chevy, and no grand unknown waiting over the next horizon. If he did a thing, he did it well. If he wanted it, he got it. Every action he made was orderly and purposeful. Kate felt a warning twinge of doubt, pushed it aside, and concentrated on his words.

  “Now we note the direction of the wind, check the current, take the helm, and we’re off.” Soon they were making a zigzag motion through the wind. The breeze became more powerful, and the boat seemed to leap across the dark, white-capped waves.

  “You love it, don’t you?” she finally said.

  “Yes, I do. I can come out here and leave everything behind. Here there are no problems except an occasional squall, and they aren’t man-made. I guess you’d call this my escape. How do you escape, Kate?”

  “I take—no, I took—how-to classes. Lots of how-to classes. In five years’ time, there wasn’t anything I didn’t learn about.”

  “But plumbing, mechanics, carpentry? I’ve never known a woman who liked getting dirty.”

  “I got into it by accident. I’d planned to go to college, but after my mother became ill, I had to forget about that. The only thing I could afford was cheap classes. And the only cheap classes were in the adult education programs in the local high schools.”

  “Why not study typing or cake decorating?”

  “I tried some of those the first year. And then one quarter, I signed up late and the only thing left was cabinet-making. I decided, why not? And I found out that hammering and sawing was exactly what I needed. I worked out all my frustrations. And you know what? I’m good at it.”

  “Physical exertion. I can understand that. That’s why I run.”

  I know, she almost said, I watched you. But the thought steered her mind into a direction she refused to allow herself to go.

  She was glad that he’d asked her to come. She’d never sailed before, and she loved the feel of the spray on her face. He was right. Out on the water there were no problems. Everything seemed unimportant, and she was willing to let the wind take her wherever it chose. Overhead, wispy clouds had chased the cotton puffs away. She scanned the horizon, lifting her face to meet the warmth of the sun.

  For a time Kate was successful in keeping her eyes averted from the man holding the helm. She’d never spent time with anyone before where the silence was pleasant. She liked that he didn’t talk. Some men couldn’t stand silence. Max was content to sit back and let her enjoy the moment without telling her that she should.

  He’d unbuttoned his shirt as soon as they’d left the cove. Now he removed it entirely, revealing the total maleness of his upper body. Kate sucked in her breath and closed her eyes. In spite of the cool breeze, she was very warm.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving,” Kate admitted, hoping beyond hope that the peculiar feeling in the pit of her stomach would go away if she ate.

  “So am I. If you’ll go below, you’ll find a thermos of coffee and a brown paper bag of doughnuts. Bring them up here, and we’ll eat.”

  After a few faltering steps, Kate found her balance and located the thermos, the cups, and the doughnuts. She carried them to the deck and spread the feast out on the top of a built-in toolbox. She poured the steaming coffee, took a quick sip, and found to her delight that it was sweet.

  “Hey, swabbie, I think I ought to explain that it is the duty of the crew to see that the captain is fed first.”

  “Sorry, Captain. I’m starving. I was out to dinner last night with a handsome man who interfered with my appetite.” She reached across the seat and held out a cup and a doughnut.

  “I can handle the wheel and the coffee. But the doughnut? You’re either going to have to steer the boat or feed me. It’s the law of the sea.”

  “If I don’t, do I have to
walk the plank?”

  “No, you have to …” his voice dropped to a throaty rumble. “I think you’d better come over here and—” he meant to say “feed me,” but instead said, “kiss me, Kate.”

  Kate slid across the seat until she was only inches away. Her breathing was shallow as she broke the sugary confection in half and held it up to Max’s lips. He looked into Kate’s eyes, and she knew that doughnuts were the last thing on Max’s mind. He was hungry. She was hungry. But their hunger wasn’t for food.

  Max opened his mouth and took a bite of the doughnut, chewed it slowly, and parted his lips to lick off the sweet powder. He missed a sprinkling of sugar on his chin, and she reached out with one finger to wipe it away. Her fingertip rubbed against the faint stubble of his beard. Max seemed not to be breathing. He held himself motionless as the boat caught a quick, even breeze.

  Kate jerked away. She slid down the bench, took a hurried sip from the cup she held in her left hand, and dropped her gaze to her feet.

  That was a big mistake. When she looked down at her feet, she also could see Max’s muscular legs. She imagined they were the kind of legs that could fit intimately around a woman’s body. She blushed. How did a man and a woman ever spend normal time together? She was confused.

  “Thank heaven you’re not one of those women who thinks she’d explode if she ate a big fat greasy doughnut rolled in sugar. Though I must admit that from your Braves T-shirt, I’d guess you were more the hot dogs and mustard type.”

  Grateful to Max for the interruption, Kate glanced down at her shirt, then back at him. The hair on his chest looked as though it were frosted, and Kate’s shirt had a patch of white sugar on Chief Noc-A-Homa’s headdress.

  “I am a hot dog and mustard person. You know that wild story Dorothea told you about me was pure fabrication.”

  “Oh, I know. At least I know you’re not some writer for a men’s magazine. Dorothea confessed this morning. I already knew that you were a whiz with a pipe wrench. Helen told me you’d fixed the dryer. But are you really a baseball fan?”

  “I am.” She relaxed, adapting quickly to the lightness of the conversation. “Watched almost every game the Braves played.”

  “Went to a lot of them, did you?”

  “In person? No, I didn’t,” she admitted sheepishly. “I watched on television, and only when I wasn’t watching old movies and soap operas.”

  “Of course. Cesar and Lorenzo.”

  “You don’t forget a thing, do you?” Kate said. “You must wonder about me. My mother was ill for quite a while, and we spent a lot of time watching television together. I guess it was emotional escapism, like your sailing. I know when I’m watching that the characters and the stories aren’t true. I don’t have to solve their problems, or assume the responsibility for their actions. And when the show is over, my troubles seem unimportant.”

  “That doesn’t explain Cesar and Lorenzo.”

  “Well, mother and I worked out a kind of shorthand. I mean, it was hard for her to talk, to explain her feelings. So, if somebody put on airs, pretended to be someone he wasn’t, he became Rich Little.”

  “I see.”

  “If somebody was really hokey, he or she was Ma or Pa Kettle. If my mother had a bad day it became a Dark Victory day. I’m afraid that I got into the habit of identifying concepts with characters.”

  “And Lorenzo and Cesar?” Max smiled his wicked smile and waited. He wasn’t going to let go.

  “All right, I called you that partly because you’re wealthy, and partly because you’re a …”

  “Hunk?”

  “I can’t believe I said that. Of course, I also can’t believe you’ve never watched that television program.”

  “Oh, from now on I intend to,” Max said with a wink, as he remembered the new television already installed in his bedroom. “Popcorn, soft drinks, the works. Next Friday night. Want to join me?”

  “Popcorn,” she said softly. “My mother liked popcorn with lots of butter and salt.”

  Max sensed the change in her, the return of the tension that had vanished in the sun. And he knew that she had her private demons too. Only she hid them behind a bright approach to life. He wanted to throw the anchor overboard and comfort her in his arms.

  “That must have been hard for you, caring for someone who was ill.”

  “Hard?” Kate was saying. “Caring for someone you love? Never. My mother was a wonderful person. She was never a hardship. She spent her life caring for me. It was only fair that I give back that kind of love. I had help from friends and neighbors. I went to school, had a job working for a florist for a few years until … Oh, what’s that?”

  Kate could suddenly see the brightly colored resort area in the distance. The sight of the coastline brought their conversation to a close. The building that caught her attention belonged to a competitor, Max explained. He pointed out with pride several other properties that belonged to Sorrenson Properties, Inc.

  “The buildings are very beautiful,” Kate said softly.

  “Thirty miles of the most beautiful beaches in the world, and I intend to keep them just as they are now, for families to enjoy and so that the local residents can live a good life. Nobody is going to spoil my part of the world, if I can prevent it.”

  Something about his determination caught Kate’s attention. “Is something really threatening this paradise?”

  “Even the Garden of Eden had a snake. Our snake has two heads, gambling and drug trafficking. South Florida is already in trouble, and we’re next. Outsiders are buying up the properties and introducing gambling. That way they can launder drug money. Here on the Carnival Strip, we’ve formed an association of property owners who have agreed not to sell to outsiders without allowing the association first option.”

  “Can you enforce it?”

  “Well, not legally. So far we’re operating under a gentlemen’s agreement. But right now we’ve committed all our funds. Once we sell something we’ve bought to our own hand-picked owner, we’ll replenish our funds. Until that happens, I’m worried.”

  “Sounds risky to me.”

  “It is. We never buy the property in the association’s name. We just buy an option. Then, very discreetly, we find a suitable buyer and transfer the option. The building is never officially for sale.”

  “Do you think that gambling and drugs go together?”

  “I know they do. By keeping out the gamblers, we cut off the monster’s head.”

  “But that doesn’t stop the man on the street, does it?”

  “No, nor the woman either, but it’s a start.”

  “My mother was on morphine, heavy doses of morphine,” Kate said. “She hated to take drugs, even the legal ones. The medication turned her into a zombie, but at least she wasn’t in pain.”

  “My mother took drugs to stop hurting too. Illegal drugs. And they killed her.”

  “Oh, Max. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right. I never knew her. She died when I was five years old. I barely remember her. Went for a swim, the newspaper report said. I was twelve when I heard the gossip. Matthew told me the truth. She couldn’t get off the stuff, and she killed herself. You know, I’ve never told that to anybody else until now.”

  “Thank you, Max. I know it isn’t easy to talk about those things. Opening up is risky. I understand about risks.”

  “And you’re a risk-taker. But I’m not, or I never have been in the past.”

  “That’s the only way you know that you’re alive, Max.”

  “Perhaps, but avoiding risks is the way you keep life under control. Control was always important to me,” he said, wanting to add “before you came along.”

  Max was moving the boat toward a break in the land. “We’ll cut through here into Saint Andrews Bay and across to Panama City.” In a very short time he was securing the sails and starting the engine to position them at the dock.

  Kate removed her life jacket while Max was pulling on his shirt. She rel
uctantly followed him up the walkway and into the cool darkness of the Sea Sands Yacht Club. The trip had been nice. Talking had been nice. But now they were on dry land and the curious glances of the early lunch crowd hastened her walk. She was horrified when Max stopped at the restaurant entrance and took her hands.

  “Kate, I’ve arranged to meet the Hotel Association committee here. Would you like to join us, or would you rather walk down the pier? There are some interesting craft booths along with the fish vendors.”

  “The pier,” she agreed quickly, grateful for an escape. “I wouldn’t feel right about intruding on your meeting. What would your associates think?”

  “Kate, there’s one other thing you need to know about me. I don’t care what people think about what I do. As long as I’m satisfied, the world can take a flying leap.”

  “That’s great, Max, but I’d rather wander around, if you don’t mind.”

  “Fine. I’ll be about an hour, and then I’ll start down the pier looking for you. Kate …”

  Max dropped her hands and lifted her chin with his fingertips. “Kate, don’t run away. Promise?”

  She didn’t know that he was going to kiss her until he did. She didn’t know that she was going to let him until she did. She wasn’t sure it had really happened as she watched him turn and head into the restaurant with an uncharacteristically jaunty walk. He was actually whistling.

  She was halfway out the door before she realized that the tune Max was whistling was “Some Enchanted Evening.”

  And the evening was yet to come.

  • • •

  Kate meandered down the beach front shopping area with the charming but inaccurate name “the pier.” There were shops featuring shells made into everything from jewelry to night-lights. The Beachcombers featured hemp hammocks and wall hangings. She found one delightful art shop displaying some of Matthew Blue’s paintings.

  “He’s one of our local artists,” the shop owner explained. “Came here as a boy on a freighter, the story goes, and eventually he owned one of the largest fleets of fishing boats around. Everything he touches seems to turn to gold. Just look at the price tag on those paintings.”