by Francis Ray
Picking up the plate with one hand, he grabbed the beer with the other and shouldered the refrigerator door closed. When he was halfway to the large kitchen table, the phone rang. He never paused. He’d told Maureen he’d let her answering machine pick up her messages. All her friends knew she was out of town.
Taking a seat by the window, he unwrapped the food, a mound of potato salad, coleslaw, and a sandwich stuffed with vegetables and smoked chicken. No fork. Sliding his chair back, he reached the cabinet just as the answering machine clicked on.
“Alec, hope you hear this, since your cell phone is off. We’re having grilled salmon tonight. You’re invited. Call me.”
Blowing out a breath, Alec pulled open the drawer and picked up a fork. He’d left his cell phone off for that very reason. He and his brother Patrick were very close. All of the brothers loved one another, looked out for one another, helped one another. This time Alec needed to work his problem out on his own. Knowing he was going through a difficult time would worry them.
The phone rang again. Alec looked at the caller ID and saw Patrick’s name. Alec knew before the answering machine message stopped he’d hear Patrick’s wife, Brianna.
“Hi, Alec, it’s Brianna. In case you don’t know it, I love you and you’re always welcome. Your fabulous cook of a brother made bread pudding with vanilla cream sauce although I can only have a small portion. My darling husband watches my caloric intake like a hawk.”
“I watch you,” Patrick said; then there was a giggle. Alec smiled without being aware of it.
“You’re kind of easy on the eye yourself,” Brianna whispered, then said aloud, “We expect to see a lot of you while you’re here. The door is always open. Sister-in-law number two signing off.”
The line went dead. Alec shook his head, a bemused smile on his face. Five months pregnant, Brianna was something else. His brother had his hands full married to such an outspoken, beautiful woman and he enjoyed every moment of it. He was happier than any of them had ever seen him.
Alec’s smile died as he recalled the night Patrick had been shot and critically wounded by a drug dealer. It had been touch and go for a while, but Patrick had survived to find a woman he loved more than anything. Their child would be lucky.
Out of nowhere Alec recalled that the man he’d killed had a wife who had been pregnant. Alec’s actions had taken the unborn child’s father away and widowed the young mother. That the drug dealer had shot a security guard and Alec’s partner, was about to shoot Tony again when Alec arrived, no longer seemed to matter. Nor did it matter that Alec, with the help of a friend in banking, had set up an anonymous trust for the mother and child.
He’d taken a life.
Retracing his steps, Alec went to the table, rewrapped the food, and placed the plate in the refrigerator. He wasn’t hungry. Grabbing the beer by the long neck, he drained the contents, then put the empty bottle in the trash. It was still light enough to work on the gazebo.
If he worked hard enough, perhaps he could get the look of surprise on the man’s face, the hatred, out of his mind. He prayed so hard, but so far his prayers had gone unanswered.
“You won’t believe who’s living at Maureen’s house,” Celeste said the moment Gina answered the front door that evening.
Despite her own worry, Gina smiled at the excitement in Celeste’s voice. Besides Gina’s mother, there hadn’t been one inquiry about travel plans. “I don’t suppose it was Pierce Brosnan?” Gina asked as she stepped aside to let Celeste enter.
“Better, because Pierce, although a fine specimen, is married,” came Celeste’s reply.
Shutting the door, Gina studied Celeste’s animated face. “You’re beaming.”
Celeste’s smile broadened. “Where are the kids?”
“Gabrielle is still on punishment in her room. Ashton is outside kicking the soccer ball around,” Gina answered. “The coast is clear for adult conversation.”
“Perfect.” Taking Gina’s arm, Celeste headed for the kitchen. “This is strictly for adults.”
“I take it, it was a man.”
Celeste paused in the entryway of the kitchen. “In spades.”
Gina had never seen her friend so giddy about a man. “Will you tell me who it is that has you so excited?”
“Alec Dunlap,” Celeste confessed, and continued to the kitchen. She took a seat on one of the high stools at the island. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw him again. I thought after I didn’t get a chance to meet him at the reception I wouldn’t get another opportunity.”
Gina chuckled, pulled a bottle of water and a Pepsi from the refrigerator, offering Celeste a choice. “As I remember, you were quite taken with him.”
“So were a lot of other women, but I now have him all to myself.” Celeste selected the water and unscrewed the top.
“Is he house-sitting?” Gina popped the cap of the soda and took a swallow, then slipped into the seat beside Celeste.
“He’s building a gazebo as a wedding present for Maureen and Simon,” Celeste told her. “When I let myself into Maureen’s house, he was standing there with his shirt off. I didn’t realize my legs had turned to jelly until I went to shake his hand. The man is gorgeous and sexy as hell.” Hastily she chugged water.
Gina stared at her best friend. “I don’t recall you ever saying anything like that about any of the three men you were engaged to.”
“Because none of them moved me the way Alec does. The reason, you’ll recall, that I broke off the engagements.” Celeste took another long swallow of water. “Alec packs a punch. I’ve found a man who finally makes me want to throw caution to the wind and be a little wicked.”
“Wait a minute, Celeste,” Gina cautioned, swerving her chair toward her. “You’ve just met the man.”
“I know it, but something about him just tugs at me.”
Gina didn’t know what to say. Celeste wasn’t the kind of woman to go after a man just because he had a great body. “Can you tell if he feels the same way?”
Celeste stared off into space. “No. In fact, I don’t think it would be an exaggeration to say that he wished I wasn’t there. He hasn’t smiled at me once. He even refused to eat the lunch I took him.”
“I’m sorry.” Gina knew how horrible it felt to be dismissed. Robert did it while they were married and continued to do so after their divorce.
“I’m not giving up.” Celeste tilted the bottle to her lips.
Gina frowned with worry. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Celeste blew out a breath. “It’s not in my nature to sit back and let things happen. Besides, you know how persistent I can be when I want something.”
“I also know how much it hurts when you’re the only one in love,” Gina said quietly, her voice unsteady.
Anger flashed in Celeste’s black eyes. “Robert’s a pri—” She broke off hastily and glanced around, then leaned closer. “Some men are fools.”
“Maybe it wasn’t all hi—”
“Don’t you dare put this at your doorstep,” Celeste snapped. “You always put your family first, did everything you could to be the best wife and mother possible. I don’t ever want to hear you say anything differently.”
But she’d failed, Gina thought, keeping the words unspoken. “I’m glad you’re my friend.”
“Same here.” Celeste finished her water and stood. “How did it go today?”
Gina’s smile faltered for a moment. “My mother called this morning and asked me to book a trip to Las Vegas for her and my dad and two other couples.”
“Your parents certainly know how to enjoy themselves. My mother can’t wait until Father retires from his medical practice next year.” Celeste wrinkled her nose. “The only thing is that she’ll have more time to badger me about getting married and having a baby.”
“You can handle Mrs. de la Vega,” Gina said.
“Yeah, I know, but it still gives me a headache.” Celeste went to the door. “I almost forgot, have you
given any more thought to going ahead and redoing your bedroom at least?”
“I think I’ll wait awhile,” Gina said. Every penny counted.
“I don’t guess you’d let me do it as an early Christmas gift,” Celeste asked.
“You guessed right, but thanks for the offer.” No more handouts. Her parents would learn the same thing.
“All right. Take care of yourself. I’ll keep you posted on my progress with Alec.” Celeste grinned. “It’s kind of fun flirting with him. I don’t remember having this much fun with other men.”
“Robert wasn’t much fun, either,” Gina blurted. Her eyes widened at the admission.
“He certainly wasn’t, but the next guy will be.”
Gina shook her head. “I keep telling you, there will never be a next time.”
“I learned long ago never say never. Bye.”
Gina waited until Celeste got in her van and pulled off before closing the door. She hoped things turned out for the best for Celeste, but for her a man wasn’t in her future.
Never again would she subject herself to another failure. The pain that resulted when it went sour wasn’t worth it.
FIVE
Max stopped his Pathfinder at the edge of Gina Rawlings’ property line and shut off the motor. He wasn’t impressed by what he saw of the two-story house and yard.
Patches of Saint Augustine grass were dead or needed cutting, the red-tip shrubs were overgrown, the flowers wilted, and the house and gray shutters begged for a coat of paint.
On closer inspection, he could actually see something green sprouting from the gutter that ran along the front of the house. In no way did it look as if the owner had any decorative acumen or style. She had the worst-kept house and yard on the block.
He’d wasted his time by coming here. Gina Rawlings didn’t know any more than he and his aunt did about making the inn the charming place of refuge he wanted. Instead of wasting his time here, he should be making contact with other travel agencies to let them know he was ready for business.
Friends had booked Journey’s End for the first two weekends of the opening and had scattered weekends until the end of the year, but Max wanted solid bookings and had hoped Gina might help him accomplish his goal by making the place more inviting.
Starting the motor, Max took one last look at the house. He hadn’t realized how much he had counted on her helping him. He was about to reach for the gearshift when the screen on the front door opened, then banged shut. With his head down, her outspoken little boy came out of the house carrying a soccer ball. The small child plopped down on the porch, put the soccer ball in his lap, and rested his forehead on top.
In trouble again, Max thought. His hand curled around the gearshift lever. The kid wasn’t his problem, but he couldn’t make himself shift the SUV into drive. Sharon had wanted a dozen children.
Hoping he wasn’t going to regret this, Max shut off the motor and got out. Going up the sidewalk lined with wilting and dead pansies, he stopped a couple of feet in front of the dejected-looking little boy. “Hi, Ashton, remember me?”
Ashton raised his head. Tears glistened in his big brown eyes. The sight tugged at Max’s heart. He’d wanted children as well. Forgetting his annoyance with Ashton, Max took out his handkerchief from the back pocket of his jeans and hunkered down in front of Ashton.
“It can’t be that bad,” Max said, gently wiping away the tears.
“It is, too,” Ashton said, his lower lip trembling. “No one will play with me. My mother is sad and my sister yelled at me to get out of her room. She’s mad because I told Mama that she talked on the phone when she wasn’t supposed to. You’re probably mad at me, too. I’m sorry. Mama explained to me it wasn’t nice to tell someone you didn’t like something they were proud of, like my crayon drawings she always puts on the refrigerator. She said it’s not nice to repeat what grown-ups say. I got into trouble, too, but not as much as Gabrielle.”
Max was totally captivated by Ashton’s nonstop talking and his honesty. “You play soccer?”
He nodded. “I’m the goalie. We have a game Saturday against a really good team and I wanted to practice. I already did my homework because we had early release today so the teachers could have a meeting.”
So that’s why the children were home at barely past two. “I’m here to see your mother.”
Ashton shook his head. “Against the rules. We can’t bother her unless we’re hurt or the house is on fire. She’s working on travel plans for Grandpa and Grandma Malone.”
Max felt a smile tug his mouth upward. Ashton was a wealth of information. “How about your father?”
Sadness entered the little boy’s face. “We’re divorced. He’s busy working, so he doesn’t come around much.”
Max’s heart went out to Ashton. There were too many absent fathers in the world. “If you’d like, we can kick a few balls around.”
Ashton’s face lit up. He jumped to his feet. “Really?”
Grinning, Max stood. “Really.”
“Come on.” Grabbing his hand, Ashton took off around the side of the house with a laughing Max following.
Gina checked and double-checked the travel itinerary for her parents and the two couples going with them. Nothing could go wrong. She didn’t want her parents making excuses for a mix-up in their flights or hotel rooms. She’d been the same obsessive way when she’d scheduled the honeymoons for Traci and Maureen. Not only was Gina a friend of Maureen’s, but her aunt Ophelia was an Invincible and one of Maureen’s closest friends. Gina never wanted to let her friends or her clients down.
Gina’s hand flexed. There weren’t many clients as it was. She’d only booked two vacations on cold calls and one from her pitiful Web site. She massaged her forehead that had begun to throb. Maybe she needed sugar. She got up from her desk for a miniature Snicker bar. Unwrapping and eating the candy, she tossed the wrapper in the trash and retook her seat.
Charleston was a popular vacation destination. The potential was there; she just had to be able to tap into it. She’d studied the market, studied those agents who were successful. One thing all of them had in common was a dynamic Web site and a high listing on search engines. Gina had built her own site because she hadn’t been able to afford to hire someone . . . and it showed.
Rawlingstravel.com was plain, with pictures of Charleston and Europe. Nothing was there to impress the viewers with what they saw, nothing interactive to draw them back or make them want to book a trip with her.
For some odd reason she thought of the Web site for Journey’s End. The site was gorgeous, but once Gina was inside the beautiful house, it looked crowded and stiff. It wasn’t lost on her that she and the owner of Journey’s End had exactly the opposite problems.
Gina blew out a breath. There was a picture of Max and his aunt on the main page. Single women would book if only to see Max. Gina had purposefully left her picture off her site. She wanted to drive business to her, not away. Yet unlike Max’s site, where you could move your cursor and another delightful page would pop up, hers remained stationary.
She was positive that if she had a more interactive Web site she might stand a chance in the competitive travel market. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the money to hire someone. Ashton and Gabrielle were fantastic on the computer, but they couldn’t do the graphics she need—
Her head came up sharply. Cocking her head, she listened. She thought she heard a man’s laughter. Gabrielle was barred from watching television, and Ashton would rather play soccer than watch. He’d come into her office earlier and asked her to practice with him, but she’d been too busy.
She turned her attention back to the monitor. Once she finished, she’d go outside and play with him. Her lips pressed together. Robert didn’t spend enough time with him. Ashton needed a father. She’d seriously considered putting him in a mentoring program, but had made the mistake of mentioning it to Robert. Predictably, he’d pitched a hissy fit.
“I’m man enough
to bring up my own son. Too bad I can’t say the same thing about you bringing up Gabrielle.”
Gina’s head lowered; then she heard the sound again, this time intermingled with that of a child’s laughter. Ashton.
Gina shot up from her chair. A cold chill ran through her. All the men who lived on the block were at work. Through the window in her home office in the back bedroom, she saw the broad shoulders of a man as he slowly maneuvered a soccer ball toward Ashton, who grinned from ear to ear at the net she’d helped him erect. Gina grabbed the nearest heavy object and rushed outside.
“Run, Ashton!”
The man stopped, whirled. She stumbled to a halt on recognizing Max Broussard.
“Mama, you know I’m supposed to stay here and defend the goal,” Ashton said, coming to stand by Max.
Max’s speculative gaze dropped to the heart-shaped paperweight in her hand, then went back up to her face. A dark brow lifted in query. Embarrassed, Gina didn’t know if she should drop the paperweight or hide it behind her back.
“Good evening, Mrs. Rawlings. I owe you an apology for luring Ashton to play without consulting you first,” Max said, then glanced down at Ashton. “You have a first-rate player here.”
“He only got two balls past me,” Ashton said proudly.
Gina fished for something to say and came up with nothing. Max probably thought she was a bit off.
“I came to ask you about your decorating ideas but changed my mind.” Max extended his hand to Ashton. “Thank you for a good game, but I think I could have tied the score that time.”
Ashton’s expression fell. “You don’t have to leave. We can play some more.”
Max’s large hand rested on her son’s shoulder. “Perhaps some other time. I have to get back to the inn.”
Seeing the gentle way Max treated a little boy he hardly knew helped Gina make a quick decision. She wasn’t sure why he’d changed his mind, but she had a good idea. Her house needed work, but everything involved money, including watering the yard. “If you’ll wait a minute I’ll get you the list of my suggestions. I’ve written everything down.”
