She almost wept as he opened one and ate it in two bites. Clearly, he was hungry. He mumbled a thank you and ran off down the beach with the box under his arm.
Craig walked over. “What’d you give the kid? Gold?”
“Something better. Food.”
“He’s still conning you.”
“I don’t think so.” She walked over to her board. “Gotta go. Time for my first run.” She grabbed the board and headed into the water just as the announcer said her name. She flopped onto her board and paddled out. She caught a great set, and her first run was a success.
She came out of the water to great applause from the audience seated on the bleachers that had been set up on the shore. It was pretty hot and some of the spectators had elected to sit on the sand with umbrellas over them. There was a big group today. There were a number of people that followed the tour all year. Quincy recognized some of the spectators from the many years she’d been on the circuit and waved to a few.
Quincy was satisfied with her performance and sat down in the competitors’ area to wait for her next run. This was a large tent with folding metal chairs blocked off for the surfers where they could rest and regroup between sets. She sat with her back to the beach and didn’t watch the other surfers. It threw her off her own game, and it was a personal rule of hers to never to look at the scoreboard either. She sat alone and meditated. The members of the tour all knew her penchant for being a loner during a competition, so they left her alone.
Soon, it was time for her second run. Quincy scored on a huge wave on her set and brought the crowd to its feet. There was really no way she wouldn’t win with the run she had.
After she got back to the competitors area, one of the other women, Mona, pushed a bottle of water at her and said, “I wanna be you when I grow up.”
Quincy took the bottle, uncapped it and downed it in two large gulps. She tossed the empty toward the trash can, and it went in. “Thanks, Mona. Not counting this as a win quite yet. It’s not over till the last wave breaks.”
“No one can beat you at this point. I think you know that.”
“I never count on anything.” As the words left her mouth, a big hand landed on her shoulder. She turned. Karl Murray stood behind her, dressed in a pair of his own board shorts
“Congratulations on a spectacular run. Can’t wait to announce our deal.”
Mona, all ears, perked up. “What deal?”
“Nothing.” Quincy glared at Karl. This was not happening. She hadn’t signed anything yet. She was furious.
Karl backed up a step. His foot turning caused the wet sand to make a squeaking noise. “What’s wrong, Quincy? You look angry. Did I say something wrong?”
She grabbed his arm and pulled him away from Mona, who continued to watch with undisguised curiosity. She whispered, “I haven’t signed yet. I’m concerned as I don’t want to dump my first sponsor. The rest of them, I have no issue with you buying out the contracts, but the first one, Silver Liquid, been very good to me and believed in me before I really believed in myself. I need to keep endorsing their product. If we can’t work something out along those lines, I won’t be signing. I really don’t want to have the world gossiping about it until I know we have a deal.”
“Sorry. I thought we’d gotten that all ironed out this morning with your agent.” He waggled his phone. “I just got a call about it.”
“As I’ve been in the water, I’ve got no idea what’s happened till I talk to Marta.” She flopped into the closest chair.
Karl sat beside her and dialed his phone. “Let’s get her on the line.”
Before the call could go through, Marta walked into the tent and over to Quincy’s seat. “C’mon, Quincy, let’s chat.”
Karl turned off his phone. “I’ll leave. Give you some privacy. You sit here, Marta.” He got up and patted the seat.
Marta said in the chair vacated by Karl and turned to Quincy. “We have a deal that I think you’ll like. They’re going to let you continue to wear warm-ups and flip flops from Silver Liquid and everything else will be BongoMongo. Silver Liquid is on board with it as well.”
“Really?” Quincy picked the wet hair off the nape of her neck and held it up so that the breeze could waft over her. It seemed her hair got heavier every time it got wet. She was burning up. “How long is the contract and how much?”
“Four years and two million a year with an option to renew if you’re still competitive in four years for an additional two million for the option.” Marta glowed with pride at the huge deal she’d made for her client.
Quincy gaped. “Wow. I’m stunned. A ten million dollar deal? What if I break a leg or something?”
“Better not.”
“Very funny. I’m serious. What if something happens to me?”
“Those contingencies will be ironed out with the final draft, but there will be some downward modification if something happens to you. And they’ll insure you for the contract pay off if you get injured. And of course, there’s the usual boiler plate stuff and a morals clause.”
“We don’t have to worry about that at least. I’m the most upstanding person I know.”
Marta hugged Quincy. “That you are.”
The announcer interrupted their conversation. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have the final scores for the women’s competition. If the ladies will come forward, please.”
The competitors lined up, and the announcer continued, “Third place in the women’s long board competition and the winner of twenty-five thousand dollars is Mona Wilfred. Second place and the winner of thirty thousand dollars is Anita Ventura. And your first place winner with a purse of fifty thousand dollars is Quincy Holt. Congratulations to these ladies. The men’s competition will begin in thirty minutes.”
Television crews from all over the world crowded around to interview the winners. In the midst of all the congratulations and questions, Quincy eventually found herself with Karl Murray beside her. He put his arm around her and made the announcement that she was to be the new face of his company.
Quincy barely had a chance to take it all in. She’d won the competition and made fifty thousand dollars for a day’s work as well as landed a contract for ten million dollars payable over four years. Her head was spinning so much, she couldn’t think straight. She just wanted to be left alone to wrap her head around all that had happened and maybe watch her male friends compete. But it was not to be. She was surrounded, with no relief in sight. She braced herself for a long siege.
* * * *
Fennimore Smith stayed with his brother, Cooper, in downtown Miami. He’d been there for several days. He knew Quincy went to Bali for the competition. He logged on to his computer to check for updates on the web related to surfing. He couldn’t help himself. She’d been on his mind since the kiss on the beach. He knew he was sunk. He couldn’t convince her that Percy Hicks would be bad news for her. If he knew her like he thought he did, even if she didn’t want to marry the man, she would just to get back at Finn for what he’d said. She was stubborn. He smiled. He loved that stubborn streak. It made her unique.
Coop came into the kitchen of his house where Finn sat at the table with his laptop open. The kitchen looked very modern. It was a glass and chrome room; a cook’s dream room. Coop was the second member of his family to become a Miami-Dade homicide detective, and he was also a gourmet chef. Industrial size ovens and a huge refrigerator took up an entire wall. “Hey, bro, what’s up?”
“Just looking online to see how Quincy did.”
As the page pulled up, Coop looked over his shoulder. A picture came on the screen of Quincy and Craig, laughing and tangled together on the beach with Quincy in a very small bikini. Craig’s hand was on her left buttock. “Isn’t that the guy she threw you over for?”
His face flushed, Finn said, “That’s the guy I thought she cheated on me with. I was beginning to believe I was wrong.”
“She looks pretty chummy with him to me, I’m afraid.”
“Dunno.” Cooper shrugged. “Guess you can’t control what you feel for someone even if you know they’re no good for you. It’s kind of like some of the druggies we arrested over the years. They can’t stay away from the bad stuff. Just like you. She’s your drug of choice.”
Finn sighed. “You got that right. I don’t think I’ll ever get over her, but it looks like I have to.” He shut the laptop without logging off. The picture turned his stomach.
Coop opened the refrigerator and grabbed an onion and a red bell pepper out of the crisper drawer. He turned around to the chopping board and began to dice the vegetables. “Thought you left this area to get her out of your system.”
“Did. Thought it worked. Till I saw her. Till I talked to her.”
Coop pointed the knife at his older brother. “Not smart, my man. Not smart. You should have left it at a phone call. Not seen her.”
“Well, duh. Tell me something I don’t know. I tried to call her, but that pit bull friend of hers, Avery, wouldn’t let me through, so I had to chase her down in person.” He made a face. “What ya cooking?”
“Pepper steak. Jamie’s coming over and Angelique, too.”
“Aw, geez. I’m not in the mood for Jamie. She never lets up on me.”
“She just wants you to be happy. Like she is with her husband. Like Angelique and me.”
“Oh. God. Is Jamie’s husband coming, too? I can’t stand all that lovey-dovey crap.” Finn groaned at the thought of his sister and her new spouse. Talk about turning his stomach. They were way too friendly with each other for his comfort.
“Nah. He’s out of town. But Angelique and I may get cozy in front of you. If she doesn’t have to run out after a dead body.”
“You mean if you don’t both have to. Homicide cop dates coroner. Sounds like a bad romance novel in the making to me.”
“Very funny. You’re just jealous.” Finished now with the vegetable dicing, Cooper sliced the beef into strips.
“You got that right. I’m jealous. Here I thought I had it made with Q. Then you and Jamie, both younger than me, seem to have found the real deal.” Finn opened the lap top and clicked on another website. “Look here, looks like Quincy won her division. Wow. She won fifty-thousand big ones.”
“Not bad for a day’s work. Or fun. It is surfing after all.”
“She works hard. It’s not just fun. She has to train.”
“Don’t get so defensive. I was just saying it was good work if you could get it. You do still have it bad for her, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess I do.” Finn sighed. “But there’s no hope. She’s got a fiancé and it seems a lover on the side. I don’t know why she kissed me so passionately and like she meant it—”
“Wait a second. Back up. She kissed you? You didn’t tell me that part.” His brother pointed the knife at him again. “Big mistake to let her kiss you.”
“Well, I didn’t think it through. I just kind of grabbed her on the beach and laid one on her. Then she slapped me.”
“God. This gets better and better. She didn’t kiss you, you kissed her, and she slapped you. You’re batting a thousand, big brother.”
“Yeah. I know. I’m doomed to be attracted to a woman who’s just like our mother.”
“I hope not. I hope you’ll get over Quincy. I like her, but she’s clearly not the one for you. You need to find someone else.” Cooper looked at his brother for a second and added, “Have you even had another woman in the two years since your breakup?”
“I’ve had sex, yes. If that’s what you’re asking.”
Coop held his hands up in front of his face. “Nope. Don’t want to know that many details. I just wondered if anyone had appealed to you since her.”
“Nope.” Finn shut the laptop again and stood. “I’m gonna go grab a shower and shave since we have ladies coming for dinner.” He started out of the room.
Coop yelled at his retreating back, “This conversation isn’t over. I’m gonna find you a woman. One that you can love and who will love you for all your charms, such as they are. A woman very unlike our dear mother.”
Finn murmured under his breath so his brother couldn’t hear, “Good luck. My heart isn’t mine to give. I’m dead meat. Sunk. In love with a woman who can’t give me what I need. Faith. In her.”
Chapter Six
“All things betray thee, who betrayest me”
Francis Thompson (English poet, 1859-1907)
Quincy finally got a break when the men’s competition was over. As soon as the men’s results were announced, she found herself standing alone in the sun. She knew it was only because the media suddenly wanted to interview the male winners. Her news about being the new face of BongoMongo was still the biggest headline of the day, but now it was time for the men to get their glory.
Craig had come in second in his division. Still a good pay day for him. Quincy couldn’t help but feel good that she’d scored top marks and he didn’t. She hated to be petty and hold a grudge, but she really did still hold him a little bit responsible for the whole break up with Finn. Of course, her brain told her it was better to know the truth about Finn’s temper and distrust before they were married with kids, but it did still hurt. She just didn’t realize how much until she saw him again.
She made a point to wait for Craig to finish his interviews with the media and shared a hug with him. He was invited to her wedding, but she wasn’t sure if he’d come from Australia to London for the ceremony. If not, she wouldn’t see him until the next competition.
Once the day was over and all the awards and hugs to her competition had been given, Quincy made her way to her hut to take a shower and get ready for dinner. She and Marta were leaving before dawn the next day, and she wanted to make sure she was all packed and ready to go. When she got to the door of her cabana, the same young boy was standing there. He was clearly waiting for her. He tossed a shell in the air and caught it.
The kid said, “You won today?”
She smiled. “Yeah. I did. You here to see me?”
“I am. I want to talk to you.” He tossed the shell again.
Quincy grabbed the shell from the air. “Dude, you may as well tell me your name if we’re gonna be such good friends.”
“What does this dude word mean, lady?” He cocked his head at her as she handed the shell back to him.
“Just a word we surfers use to refer to friends.”
“Then call me dude. I like to be your friend. And I don’t think you could pronounce my real name.”
“Try me. I’m pretty smart.” She grinned at the kid. He really was a funny little dude and so cute. He’d lost his two front teeth, and his gap-toothed grin endeared him to her. His efforts to talk were also amusing. Seems she really had made a friend.
“Setiawan. My name is Setiawan.”
She laughed and said it. Correctly. She nodded. “Dude it is then.”
The boy cackled at her decision and said, “I like dude better, too. I’m going to use it from now on. I’ll make my other friends call me that, too. It’s going to be my new name.”
“Well, Dude, much as I’d love to stand around and chat with you, I need to get in and shower. I’m still covered in salt water from your Indian Ocean. I feel sticky. I have to get cleaned up to meet my friend, Marta. We’re going to town to shop for some more figurines. She wants to take them home for gifts.”
Setiawan grabbed Quincy’s hand and pulled on it. Hard.
She looked down at her hand. “I really have to go. I’m sorry, but I do.”
He whispered, “You bend down. I want to tell you something.”
She knelt in front of him. “What is it? Is something wrong with your family again? Do you need something?”
“No. You’ve been nice
to me, and I want to warn you.”
She tilted her head, confused. “Warn me? About what?”
“I heard you and another lady have a plane. Is that your friend? Marta, you said? You have your own plane at the Denpasar airport?” He looked over his shoulder. His eyes seemed to scope out the area around them.
She nodded her encouragement. “Yes. I’m flying out in the morning on a private jet. It’s waiting for me and Marta at Denpasar. How did you know?”
He shook his head, almost frantic. “No, lady. No. Do not go on the plane. Do not. You go on big plane, instead.” He nodded. “Yeah, that’s what you do. Go on a big plane. Not your plane. Don’t get on the plane you call a private jet.”
“What’s wrong with the plane, Setiawan?”
“Plane is fine. Cargo is not.”
She looked at him, confused. What cargo? Her surfboards? Before she could voice the question, a huge man with a snarl on his face stomped up and snatched Setiawan by the arm.
The man looked at the kid and said, “Leave this woman alone, boy.” He turned to Quincy. “Sorry. He’s been taught not to beg on the street.”
Quincy opened her mouth to defend the child. Before she could say a word, the man turned on his heel and dragged the boy across the sand.
As he was being manhandled and hauled away, Setiawan looked back at her and mouthed the words, “Please don’t. Don’t get on the plane.”
The anguish in his eyes made Quincy tear up. She had no idea what was going on, but she was sure that the child was mistaken. What could be the problem with Percy’s plane? And what would this kid know about it?
* * * *
Early the next morning, Quincy got up, made herself a cup of black coffee and took it outside the cabana. She sat out on the sand as she drank the hot, strong smelling liquid. She loved the dawn hour on the beach. Any beach in the world was a soothing place as the sky turned from dark to light. She took a deep breath and smelled the Indian Ocean. Bliss. The wind played with her hair, and she put a stray wisp behind her ear. She enjoyed the quiet for as long as she could, but too soon, it was time to go. Time to make her way to the airport to go back to Miami one more time before the wedding.
Chantal, Jillian - Surfer Bride (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 7
