by BETH KERY
“I’ll introduce you to him,” Jennifer told Everett warmly. “Speaking of John, I should probably get going,” she said, checking her watch. “We’re going for dinner over in Carbondale.” She gave Joy and Seth a smile. “Joy, it was wonderful to meet you. Seth, I look forward to working with you.”
“You, too, Jennifer,” Joy returned with genuine warmth.
“Same here,” Seth said gruffly.
“Would you walk me out?” Jennifer asked Everett pointedly.
Everett nodded and stood, following Jennifer out of the atrium. Jennifer had made the invitation so smoothly, and Joy had been lulled by all this talk of a man who had made Jennifer’s darkest moments bright, it took a moment for that sick, ugly feeling to creep back into her stomach. Joy couldn’t decide if the feeling was jealousy, inadequacy or some nasty combination of both.
* * *
“Joy?” Katie called anxiously later as Joy opened the front door.
“I’m going out for a drive,” Joy explained pleasantly. “You’ve said the scenery by the river is so pretty, and I have my sketch pad in the car.”
“Does Everett know you’re going?” Katie asked, looking a little confused as she walked toward her with Daisy in her arms.
“No,” Joy said, avoiding Katie’s gaze. She had an overwhelming urge to flee. It was just making things worse to see the concern in Katie’s eyes. “He’s out at the guesthouse, showering. It’ll take him a while to remove those tattoos.”
“I know. I had the feeling he wanted you to help him,” Katie said wryly. “Joy, is everything okay?”
“Yes. Of course it is,” she said quickly. “Will you please tell Everett where I went? I’ll be back in a few hours.”
She didn’t give Katie time to respond, but turned and plunged out the front door, the rental car keys clutched in her hand. Unfortunately, she’d left her purse in the guesthouse. She hadn’t wanted to risk retrieving it and running into Everett, so when she’d asked Seth for the keys, she also asked for some cash in case of an unlikely emergency. He’d given her a concerned, questioning glance as he dug for his wallet in his pocket, but hadn’t interrogated her in front of Rill and Katie, which she appreciated.
A lump had formed in her throat by the time she reached the spot where Everett and she had turned off the road earlier for their jog. What was wrong with her? she thought desperately when she suddenly had to blink to see through a film of tears.
She hardly knew Everett. This was supposed to be a fun, sexy weekend. It’d been a challenge for her, a risk to do something as crazy as have a fling with a man like Everett, but she’d taken that chance. She didn’t want to blow it now by getting all . . . involved.
She had no interest in getting her hooks into Everett, any more than she wanted to allow him to return the favor. Joy didn’t expect a serious relationship. She didn’t want one. He could do whatever he wanted, including spending the better part of an hour talking to Jennifer Turner in private, serious conversation—and who knew what else—before Jennifer had finally left.
Joy irritably swiped at her eyes and put on Seth’s sunglasses, which were sitting on the console.
The two of them had looked quite serious, talking while standing together in the shade of the front porch, Everett’s feet planted on the first step of the stairs so that their bent blond heads were closer in height. Joy hadn’t spied, of course. Katie and she had walked into the kitchen with empty glasses after Everett and Jennifer had been gone for twenty or so minutes, and Katie had wondered out loud what had happened to Everett. She’d flicked back the curtain on the front door to peer outside, and Joy had been unlucky enough to see the pair of them standing there in what appeared to be intimate, intense conversation. She’d caught a fleeting image of Everett’s eyes on Jennifer’s face, his expression solemn. Katie had quickly released the curtain.
“Oh, they’re still talking.” Joy had suspected Katie’s tone and smile were a little too cheery given the circumstances. Her need to flee had started to build at about that point. She’d been thankful when Everett finally came back inside and told her he planned to go and shower off his tattoos.
This way, she had a clear path to the car and temporary escape from the source of her bewildered longing.
Thirteen
Joy came to a halt at the turnoff at the base of the hill. Which way was the Ohio River? Seeing no signs, she turned left toward town.
The diner appeared to be the only open establishment in the woefully dilapidated Main Street of Vulture’s Canyon. It was as if the hot, oppressive summer day had cast a spell on the tiny town, Joy thought as she parked and approached the restaurant. Maybe everyone took a siesta in the afternoon? There was seemingly little else to do around here but sleep when the sun was at its most fierce.
Bells tinkled above her head as Joy walked into the blessedly cool diner. An older, gray-haired woman stood behind the counter wearing a flowery kurta and colorful beads around her neck. The only other occupant of the restaurant—a wiry man in his thirties wearing a grimy-looking baseball hat and sitting on one of the counter stools—didn’t look up from whatever he was examining in his hand.
“Hello,” Joy greeted the waitress, walking up to the counter.
“Hello,” the woman said in a mellow voice, closing her book. Joy had just been going to ask for directions to the river, but found herself examining the chalkboard menu with interest. In addition to traditional diner fare, there were some tempting vegan and vegetarian dishes and sandwiches. “Too bad I had such a big lunch,” she said. “Your menu looks terrific. Do you get a lot of your ingredients from the local communal farm’s co-op?”
“Yes,” the woman said, approaching her. “One hundred percent organic, guaranteed fresh. You visiting Rill and Katie Pierce?”
The man wearing the hat looked up. Joy noticed his ears stuck out from the side of his head beneath the sides of the cap.
“Yes. How did you know?” Joy asked.
“You’re a stranger. Chances are, if you’re a stranger in Vulture’s Canyon, you’re visiting the Pierces.” The woman smiled, and Joy instantly liked her. “Besides, Katie told me she was expecting guests this weekend when she was in on Friday morning.”
“Do you know Katie?” the man asked her abruptly.
“Yes,” Joy replied. The man set what appeared to be a toy model car on the counter.
“I’m Olive Fanatoon and this is Errol,” she explained, nodding toward the man.
“I’m Joy Hightower,” Joy said, shaking the woman’s hand. “I’ve heard Katie mention you. You help her watch Daisy, don’t you?”
“That’s right,” Olive said, smiling widely.
“I was hoping to get directions to the river. I’d like to do some sketching, and I heard from Katie the view is lovely.”
“I live on the river,” Errol said. He alighted from the counter stool and came toward her, his hand outstretched. At first she thought he was coming to shake her hand, but he kept his hand in a fist. Joy glanced at the woman behind the bar dubiously, but extended her hand. The man dropped a piece of metal into it.
“It’s nice,” Joy said after a moment of examining the model race car.
“Ferrari 150° Italia,” Errol said bluntly.
“Katie’s got him hooked on cars now,” Olive said. “He used to just focus on model airplanes.”
“Katie’s uncle is Howard Hughes, the famous pilot,” Errol stated.
“Not an uncle, just a distant relative,” Olive said with a rehearsed air that gave Joy the impression it was a familiar correction.
Joy smiled and handed the car back to Errol. “They use that kind of car on the Formula 1 circuit.”
Errol’s brown eyes went wide at that. “You know about Formula 1 racing? Do you know Michael Schumacher? Sixty-eight pole positions, ninety-one Grand Prix wins, seven world championships,” he said in a pressured rush. “He’s Katie’s and my favorite driver. Katie took Derek and me to see him drive once in St. Louis, and—”
“Errol, that’s enough. Remember what we talked about. Not everyone loves cars and planes as much as you do.”
Joy smiled. “You and Katie sound like very good friends.”
“Katie ran me over with her car—a Maserati GranTurismo,” Errol said matter-of-factly before he returned to his stool and continued to study the model.
Olive’s eyes twinkled with amusement when she noticed Joy’s stunned expression. “Katie accidentally hit Errol on her first night in Vulture’s Canyon,” she explained under her breath. “Errol had to have knee surgery. They’ve been friends ever since.”
“I can show you the way to the river,” Errol mumbled, his head lowered as he turned the car in his hands.
Olive pursed her lips, considering. “That’s not a bad idea. Can Ms. Hightower sketch out on your dock, Errol?”
“Yeah, okay,” Errol said.
“It’s up to you,” Olive said, glancing at Joy. “Errol can show you the way if you give him a ride. He walks into town every day. He’s got a beautiful view off his dock. That’s probably the view Katie was referring to when she mentioned the river.”
Joy hesitated only for a split second. The proposal was unusual, granted, but there was something so innocent about Errol and Olive’s familiar, protective attitude toward him, it didn’t strike Joy as anything but a kind and well-intentioned offer.
“That’d be wonderful. If you’re sure it’s okay, Errol?” Joy asked.
Errol’s shrug seemed to convey he’d be content either way.
“Errol, Jamie is going to come in for the dinner crowd to replace me. I’ll be out to your house when she gets here,” Olive said. “Here’s a loaf of seven-grain bread. You can make some toast if you get hungry. And offer Ms. Hightower a glass of something cold when you get there. It’ll be hot out on that dock,” Olive instructed when Joy and Errol stood up to leave the diner. Errol grabbed the bread, his gaze still glued to the model car, and trailed after Joy out of the diner.
* * *
Katie glanced up from where she was sitting on the living room floor when Everett walked in.
“Where is everyone?” Everett asked, his gaze running over Rill, who was looking up something on his laptop and lazily stroking Barnyard’s neck.
“Seth is sketching out in the atrium, and Joy took off about twenty minutes ago,” Rill said gruffly, his attention returning to his computer screen.
“What do you mean Joy took off?” Everett asked, stunned.
Daisy gave a happy little shout from her baby swing. Katie imitated the sound, smiling, and stood up.
“I’m going to talk to Everett in the kitchen; can you watch Daisy?” Katie asked Rill.
“Yep.” Rill set down his computer and lowered himself to the floor on all fours, acting like a lion on the prowl. Everett saw his niece’s eyes pop wide as she stared at her dad, and then heard a giggle before he followed Katie into the kitchen.
“Where did Joy go?” he asked Katie impatiently. He’d been in such a hurry to shower and remove the tattoos that he hadn’t followed Joy’s careful instructions or used the solvent she’d given him, utilizing an abrasive loofah instead. All that rush and the sacrifice of a layer of skin, and she wasn’t even here.
“She said something about going to the river to sketch. I told her it was a pretty view.”
“Oh,” Everett said, disappointment flickering through him. He’d have liked to have gone with her, but supposed he’d just have been in the way.
“Sit down for a second,” Katie said, nodding at one of the kitchen island stools.
Wariness prickled through him. “Why?” he asked suspiciously.
“Everett,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“What’s this about? Is it about Joy?” he asked cautiously, sitting on the edge of the stool.
“Yes,” Katie admitted, standing with her hands on the counter.
“Well, spit it out,” he demanded, concern giving his tone an edge.
“Everett, was it absolutely necessary for you to spend all that time with Jennifer?”
His mouth dropped open. He glanced toward the front door and the porch.
“Wait . . . are you telling me that Joy left because she was upset about my talking to Jennifer? Did she tell you that?” he demanded.
“No, she did not tell me that,” Katie said succinctly. “She told me that everything was fine. But I—unlike you—am sensitive to what she was probably experiencing.”
“Jennifer was telling me about that guy, John Corcoran, for God’s sake,” he blurted out. “She’s in love with him. She’s crazy about him! She wants to marry him. He had some hang-ups about being blind and being able to take care of her, but they’ve worked through all that. But that’s not the point—you know as well as I do that Jennifer and I are just friends. We broke up because we realized our relationship wasn’t going to grow any further than it had.”
“I know that. Joy doesn’t, though.”
“Well, why didn’t you tell her, then?” Everett asked loudly. Daisy gave a little shriek in the distance. Katie gave him an admonishing look. “Sorry,” he mumbled, contrite, but still irritated. “Why didn’t you stick up for me?”
“I tried to, but Joy was too busy running out the door,” Katie insisted.
“But all I did was talk to a friend.”
Katie rolled her eyes. “It looked like a pretty intense talk.”
He cursed under his breath.
“Everett, when are you going to wake up and acknowledge the rest of the world—you know, the majority of the planet, the people who only know about you from multi-billion-dollar movie productions and Entertainment Premiere and headlines on tabloids at the grocery store checkout? What do you think it’s like for Joy to be asked out by Everett Hughes, and suddenly have his ex-girlfriend—one of the most stunning women in the world—show up here? How many times do you think Joy has stood in the checkout line and looked at photos of you and Jennifer cavorting on a beach and supposedly making plans for having a baby—”
“Don’t you dare quote that particular pile of horseshit to me. It has nothing to do with reality, and you know it,” he interrupted sharply.
“But does Joy?”
“But there’s nothing between Jennifer and me. Nothing like that.”
“Try to see things from Joy’s point of view, Everett. I’m your sister. I know you and Jennifer don’t consider yourself a god and goddess walking on earth, but practically the entire rest of the population of the world does.”
“That’s crap,” he said, sick of the familiar refrain coming from Katie. “Joy isn’t like that. She’s very down-to-earth.”
“I know she’s down-to-earth. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a few insecurities, just like most people.”
Everett winced. “You think she was really upset?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be repaired.” His gaze sharpened on his sister when she hesitated. “You seem to really like Joy, Everett.”
“I do.”
Katie nodded. “She’s not a Hollywood player, but she’s also not like one of those women from that dating agency you tried—that one that features nice, normal women that are difficult for a movie star to meet.”
“Supposedly nice, normal women,” Everett said darkly. The dating service Katie referred to was called Corner International. Its clients included the Hollywood elite and wealthy, individuals who were fed up with being surrounded by sharks of their own kind and wanted to meet the girl or boy next door. Everett knew of a few friends in the business who had liked the service and ended up marrying quite happily. Everett’s experience had been less than ideal, however, and he’d ended up swearing off any kind of dating service years ago.
“Well, whatever,” Katie said. “My point is, at least those women knew what they were signing up for. Joy hasn’t signed up for anything.”
“You don’t need to remind me, Katie.”
“Everett, I just mean—”
“I
know what you mean,” he said abruptly. He met Katie’s concerned glance and added more restrainedly. “I do.”
He knew she was right, but it frustrated the hell out of him nevertheless. He was a man whose job happened to hurtle him into the limelight. He loved acting, relished in perfecting his craft, savored the challenge of conquering a new role. If he’d ended up on the local stage, or as a film character actor with small, rewarding parts, he would have still been an actor. He would still have loved his job. As a matter of fact, he routinely took roles in independent, low-budget films that spurred his growth and creativity because he did love acting so much. It just so happened that his career trajectory had hurtled him into the living rooms and consciousness of millions of people. He couldn’t say he regretted the opportunities fame had provided him, because that would be a lie. But he identified most with acting, not being a movie star. And there were times—like right now—he would have gladly chucked the whole thing if it meant being seen clearly by a woman like Joy.
“Everett?” Katie called to him when he shoved back the stool.
“I’ll be back in a little while,” he said before he walked out the front door.
* * *
Joy’s hand moved rapidly over the page. The view from Errol’s dock was beautiful. The trees on the riverbank behind her cast her in shadow, while the sun shone full-out on the opposite shore. She’d never seen so many shades of green and gold. She wished she had her paints, although the heat would have given her poor consistency.
She’d calmed quite a bit since settling down in the rickety lawn chair, surrounded by the sylvan glory of the forest and the fast-flowing, wide river. Having a pencil or a paintbrush in her hand always went a long way to grounding her. She’d been being ridiculous by allowing herself to become upset because Everett had spent all that time talking to Jennifer.
Errol lived in a tiny gray-shingled house nestled amongst the river-bottom trees. The house needed some repairs, but the view made up for its shabbiness. She paused in her sketching, using her forearm to blot the perspiration accumulating on her upper lip before she took a sip of ice water. Errol had dutifully supplied the cold beverage when they arrived before he’d sat down in his kitchen and fixed his entire attention on a black and white rerun of McHale’s Navy.
