Mandy Makes Her Mark

by Ruby Laska

  “You don’t love him,” she exclaimed, suddenly quite sure of it.

  Luna’s mask slipped.

  “I’ll just bring the boat around,” Zeke called. “Pick you up down at the end here.”

  Luna ignored him. “We were good together,” she said to Mandy, with far less conviction. “Everyone said so.”

  “The press said so,” Mandy replied, suddenly a little sorry for her sister. “The paparazzi. The reporters.”

  “You never liked him,” Luna said, her voice turning thoughtful. “Which is weird. Because he always liked you.”

  Mandy felt her heart stutter. “He…did?”

  “Yeah. He was always going on about how smart you were, and how you were going to take the agency places and—oh, hell, I never told you because I was jealous.”

  The curious pang turned sour in Mandy’s heart. No matter how the flames of her longing for Tad had been fanned, she couldn’t take him from Luna, not if she still wanted him. Luna might be a pain in the ass, but she was the only sister Mandy would ever have. And as ridiculous as it was to think that Luna had envied her, Mandy refused to add to her pain.

  “You thought Tad and I…”

  Luna laughed dismissively, and Mandy’s momentary generosity evaporated. “You and Tad? Oh no, that’s not what I meant. It’s just that he admired you. You’re smart, Mandy, you always have been. Growing up everyone always talked about your accomplishments, your grades, your scholarships. I was just the pretty face.” She sighed dramatically. “You can’t imagine the burden. I hear it all day long at work—‘Luna, you’re exquisite, Luna, you’re an international brand’—but no one ever wants to talk to me about um, the stock market or the net worth or the bond crisis or, I don’t know, whatever.”

  “Luna, you’re not interested in those things,” Mandy said. She doubted her sister even knew what they were.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t need to come home and hear about how you’re a freaking genius. Amanda this, Amanda that. And that’s another thing—he couldn’t even get your name right!”

  “Oh,” said Mandy, a bit dazed. “So you didn’t want Tad to talk to you about the news, you just didn’t want him to talk to you about the agency or—”

  “Or like his stupid movie scripts.” Luna rolled her eyes. “I never told you about that, it was just too embarrassing. I mean, sitting at the kitchen table with his little computer when I was watching TV?”

  “That must have been terrible,” Sylvie said sarcastically. Mandy cut her a glance; Sylvie wasn’t even bothering to pretend not to eavesdrop.

  “I know, right?” Luna missed the tone of Sylvie’s voice. “You know what, I don’t really even want him back that badly, I just don’t want…”

  She bit her lip, her eyes suddenly shiny. And Mandy, who had never been able to watch her sister cry, melted.

  “You don’t want to be alone,” she said gently. Luna nodded, a fat tear splashing down her cheek. “Well, listen, it’s really not that bad.”

  “For you, maybe,” Luna snuffled. “I mean you have your, you know, Wall Street Journal and all that, plus nobody expects you to be seen around town.”

  Mandy gritted her teeth, willing herself to be patient. Sylvie patted her arm.

  “You know what,” Sylvie said, turning to Luna, “You should give Jayde a call. She broke up with her boyfriend, and she’s moving out. You’ve got extra room. Maybe the two of you could, you know, be roommates or something.”

  Luna looked at her for a long moment, her expression cryptic. “Tad told me about that. Said she was kind of a mess. You think she might need someone to, you know, kind of take care of her?”

  Could it be? Was Luna actually showing interest in another human being’s welfare?

  Would the wonders never cease on this magical island?

  “Give her a call,” Mandy said cautiously, not wanting to jeopardize her sister’s newfound compassion. “No harm trying. You’d better go – your ride’s here.”

  They all turned to see Zeke waving his battered baseball cap from the boat at the end of the dock, its engine puttering in the calm waters.

  “Okay,” Luna said, wiping her eyes. Then she gave Mandy a long look. “When Tad told me Lark subbed you in for the shoot, I thought it would be a disaster. But you actually look…kind of interesting.” She gave the bodice of Mandy’s gown a quick tug, adjusting the neckline, and stalked down the dock without another word. She extended her hand regally and allowed Zeke to help her into the boat, and in seconds they were headed for Key Grande, growing smaller and smaller with every second.

  “That was one of her more dramatic exits,” Sylvie observed.

  “All right,” Deirdre called, emerging from the cabana, and clapping her hands. “Mandy, let’s get you into the cap sleeve brocade. Sylvie, next up is the silver A-line. We’re a bit behind so let’s make this happen!”

  Mandy allowed herself to be guided into a whirlwind of undressing and dressing and touch-ups and hairspray. It helped to keep her from obsessing over the maelstrom of emotions unleashed by Luna’s declaration.

  Luna didn’t love Tad.

  Luna envied Mandy. But not for any of the things Mandy had ever wanted to be envied for.

  But maybe that was okay. Maybe it was time for Mandy to appreciate exactly who she was, the way she was. And it had taken her high-strung, spoiled, impossible sister to show her.

  And if she couldn’t have the kind of love she’d dreamed of, the crazy passionate longing that Tad had inspired all these years, maybe that was okay too. Maybe she’d just have to accept that she belonged with one of the accountants or attorneys on the online sites, or even—God help her—one of the Pent-Up Suits.

  “There,” one of the assistants said, stepping back. “That ought to do it.”

  “Nice,” the other assistant said. It was the most conversation they had uttered in two days. They nodded briskly and hurried out to see to Sylvie’s gown, giving Mandy a few blessed moments of solitude. She turned to the mirror to see how she looked, and caught her breath.

  The gown’s simple silhouette skimmed her body perfectly. The cap sleeves made her arms look toned, and the neckline elongated her neck and gave her beautiful décolletage. The stylists had loosened her chignon, and loose strands curved around her chin prettily. Tiny pearls at her ears and throat reminded her of her mother’s wedding photo.

  “Gorgeous.”

  She spun around. Tad was standing in the opening of the tent, hands in his pockets. He hadn’t shaved—he didn’t look like he’d slept, in fact. There were dark smudges under his eyes and his hair was mussed and his clothes wrinkled.

  He’d never looked better.

  “Tad.” She swallowed. “Luna came by. She…told me.”

  Tad nodded. “Some of the things she said…they were true. I should have ended this long ago. I was selfish. I was stuck in a rut. I was…”

  “Human.” Mandy shrugged. “Just like her. Something I guess I never really gave her credit for before now. But she’ll be okay. She’s tough, and I should know.”

  A ghost of a smile flashed across Tad’s face. “She comes from a tough family.”

  Mandy’s brave smile threatened to crumple, so she tried harder, grinning until her jaw hurt. “That’s us, all right. The Leif girls: tough as nails.”

  He stepped toward her. Up close, she could smell that scent that was uniquely Tad, and she had to resist inhaling for all she was worth. It occurred to her that she would probably have to fire him from the agency. Because she couldn’t bear to be this close to him on a regular basis, not when every fiber of her being wanted to be closer still.

  He reached out and touched her lips, just as he had the other night. “There was never anything on your face. I lied. I just wanted to touch you.”

  “Don’t,” Mandy said, grabbing his hand and holding it away from her skin. “Please.”

  They stayed that way, locked in a stalemate, while outside the cabana Deirdre called directions and Sylvie cursed
colorfully and somewhere nearby children laughed and gulls screeched.

  “I want you,” Tad finally said. “That’s not going to change.”

  “It’s a bad idea.”

  “Why?”

  Mandy shrugged helplessly. “Luna…”

  “Is a big girl. She can have just about any man she wants.” He winced. “Except, maybe, me.”

  “You know what you said before…about how I was so focused on work?”

  “’Skills pay the bills,’” Tad said. “Of course I remember.”

  “Well, it’s all a lie.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes. If I could have traded with my sister when I was thirteen, I would have. I would have given up every shred of talent I ever had, all my good grades, my skill at math, my test scores – all of it, if I could have been the pretty girl instead.”

  “Amanda.” Very gently, Tad put his hands on her shoulders and turned her so that they were both staring into the mirror at her reflection. “What do you see?”

  She looked. A beautiful gown. A woman of average size. The same hair and face that she’d always had, skillfully enhanced with makeup and a blow dryer.

  Tad slowly slid his hands down her arms, then around her waist, drawing her back against him. She could feel his breath on her neck, the bristle of his unshaven cheek making her gasp as he pressed a soft kiss against her jaw. She felt her body melt against him, the hot rush of desire pooling inside her.

  “I see…me, I guess. Wearing a dress I have no business in.”

  “Look harder,” Tad whispered, and he kept kissing her, less gently, while his arms tightened around her.

  She did as he said. The intensity in her eyes caught her attention. In this light, they were a brilliant green, with hidden depths of gold. Her face, flushed with desire, was sensuous and full. Her hands trembled. She was beautiful—not in the dramatic, traffic-stopping way that Luna was, but beautiful nonetheless.

  “And look at me now,” Tad said, taking a break from kissing her to rest his chin in the hollow of her neck. They stared at the mirror together. “What do you see?”

  Mandy took her time. She knew every inch of him, every feature, every eyelash and dimple, by heart. But that wasn’t what she was looking for now. “I see a complicated man,” she finally whispered. “An…artist. A man with determination and integrity.”

  “A man who needs the right woman at his side,” Tad said, his voice deepening to a growl. “I will keep writing, no matter what, Mandy. I’ve saved enough to support myself for a couple of years, at least. This is my last gig. I decided to quit before I ever came to Cupid Island.”

  Before the panic at his pronouncement could set in all the way—he’s leaving, the inner voice trumpeted in alarm—he looped a lock of her hair around his finger and kissed her neck. “But I want to be with you. I thought I could make it work before, just like I thought I could make it work with Luna, but the truth is that I’ve gotten further and further away from my dream. I’ll always be a writer. But I’ll be a better one with you to inspire me.”

  “Yes,” Mandy said, before he could come to his senses. “Yes.” She turned in his arms until she was pressed against him, looking up into his stormy blue eyes.

  “You’ll put up with an unemployed artist boyfriend?” Tad asked, almost shyly. “You’ll keep believing in me?”

  “Forever,” Mandy said, with all her heart. She kissed him, softly at first, and then with the same urgency that had propelled them into each other’s arms the other night.

  Neither noticed when the flaps of the tent were thrown open. But the applause got their attention. Flustered, Mandy pulled away from the kiss, but she didn’t let go of her man.

  Outside the tent, Deirdre and her assistants and the makeup and hair team and Sylvie had been joined by half a dozen kids and their sunhat-wearing moms. Everyone was grinning. A little red-headed boy started to cheer as though he was at a baseball game. Soon everyone was hooting.

  Blushing, Mandy gave a little wave. “Guess our secret’s out,” she whispered. Tad responded by kissing her forehead.

  “All right, everyone, back to work,” Deirdre said when the commotion finally died down. “Bride in place, please. Groom, take a break. I’ll let you know if we need you.”

  “I’ll need you,” Mandy promised, as the assistants descended on her and started dragging her toward the dock. The makeup artist looked dismayed at the state of Mandy’s lipstick.

  Tad watched her go, hands back in his pockets, a satisfied look on his face. “I’ll pick you up for dinner,” he said. “I hear it’s barbecued ribs tonight. All you can eat.”

  Mandy laughed. The model’s life, with its privations and restrictions, wasn’t for her. She’d trade the glamor and glitz for a comfortable pair of sneakers and a chocolate shake any day.

  There was nothing wrong with Luna’s dream, she realized as the makeup artist went to work with her brushes and creams, but that didn’t mean it was right for her. Tad had finally found the courage to pursue his own dreams. And now, finally, so had Mandy.

  Tonight, they’d walk on the beach, and she’d write it in the sand. Amanda and Tad 4-Ever.

  The End

  ***

  Did you enjoy MANDY MAKES HER MARK?

  Check out more books by Ruby Laska:

  The Xquisite Series:

  Xquisite

  Xtraordinary (June, 2015)

  Xtreme (August, 2015)

  The Boomtown Boys Series:

  Black Gold

  Black Heat

  Black Flame

  Black Ember

  The Cupid Island Series:

  Larissa Learns to Breathe

  Mandy Makes Her Mark

  Plain Jane’s Birthday Wish

  Standalone Novels:

  Mountain Song

  Heartbreak, Tennessee

  A Man for the Summer

  Mine ’til Monday

  Along for the Ride

  Snow Creek Novella:

  Miss Bonny’s Buried Treasure

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  …or keep reading to enjoy an excerpt from BLACK GOLD—the first book in Ruby’s Dakota Oilman series.

  PLEASE ENJOY THIS EXCERPT OF BLACK GOLD—BOOK 1 IN THE BOOMTOWN BOYS SERIES

  By Ruby Laska

  CHAPTER ONE

  The girl singing on stage was nearing the end of her set. Sweat poured down her face, taking what remained of her eye makeup with it. Her cheap tank top had lost a few sequins during the performance and there was a long, ragged thread hanging from the edge of her skirt. Only her boots looked like they’d come from anywhere other than a thrift store: fire engine red with swirls of fancy stitching on the side.

  Regina McCary hung on to every note, imagining that the familiar adrenaline rush might be what a natural-born predator felt as it closed in on its prey. She drained the last of her weak gin and tonic and forced down a bite of her sandwich. It wouldn’t do to let hunger or dehydration slow her down, not this close to the score.

  “Not bad, is she?” a familiar voice grated in her ear when the song ended. The small audience clapped enthusiastically, especially a group of drunk guys taking up most of the back of the bar around the pool tables, and Regina could barely hear him. But she’d know that voice anywhere. Her heart sank and she squeezed her eyes shut and prayed: not here, not now. Surely, he wouldn’t have followed her all the way here from Nashville, not when this was supposed to be her first vacation in six years.

  But when she finally opened her eyes, it was Carl Cash who had slid into the chair across the small table from her. He pushed her plate out of the way to make room to set his familiar canvas knapsack on the table.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Regina demanded.

  “Following up on a hot tip. But, honey, you don’t want to talk about work, do you? Not while you’re on vac
ation.”

  “How do you know I’m on vacation?”

  But Regina could guess, and her heart plummeted because there was only one person who could have told Carl where she was, and the betrayal stung: Meredith Jester wasn’t just her boss, she was supposedly her friend.

  “I’d have to be your friend to do this,” Meredith had said the day she told Regina she had two choices: take a vacation, or find another job. “It would be easier to just cut you loose. Or let you work yourself to death.”

  Meredith had always had a soft spot for Carl, who had worked at her talent agency before striking out on his own. Never mind that Carl had become her number one competitor. Meredith was loyal to all of her former employees. That had worked out well back when Regina had been dating him, and even better when she’d been engaged to him. Meredith had even helped plan their wedding, when she wasn’t busy running her talent agency.

  When Regina and Carl broke up, Regina suggested it would be a good time for Meredith to let go too. But Meredith replied that there were enough rising country music stars to keep both Cash Professional Management and the Jester Group busy, and besides, she enjoyed the competition. She and Carl continued to try to poach each other’s hottest clients while trading friendly barbs and gossip about Regina.

  “Okay,” Regina said, taking a deep breath. “Look. I suppose Meredith told you to come up here and keep an eye on me. But I do know how to take a break from work, Carl. I’m on vacation, nothing more.”

  “In a bar,” Carl said, raising an eyebrow, “with live music.”

  “There aren’t a whole lot of entertainment options in Conway, North Dakota,” Regina hedged. “Haven’t you noticed?”

  “Which makes it seem like a very odd choice for a vacation.”

  “No, wait, there’s hiking—”

  “Yeah, Meredith told me about that. Miles of unpaved trails with views of… nothing. Come on, Regina, there’s way better hiking around Nashville. And besides, you don’t even own a pair of hiking boots.”

  “And there’s rafting on the Little Yellow River. And there’s a historic fort around here somewhere—”

  “Right. Maybe Meredith fell for all of that. But I think I know you just a little better than she does.” Carl tugged the leather laces of his knapsack and reached inside, pulling out a sleek top-of-the-line laptop.