by JoAnn Ross
“What’s your favorite movie?” she asked, deciding to turn the tables on what had begun to feel more like an interrogation than a getting-to-know-you lunch.
“The Goonies,” he said without looking up from his typing.
“Isn’t that the one that was filmed up in Astoria?”
“Yeah. At least some of it was. A lot of the exterior scenes were shot down here and in Cannon Beach, but a bunch of us still get together in Astoria every year as a tribute.”
“Well. That’s a nice tradition.” If a bunch of crows were called a murder, and whales traveled in pods, she idly wondered what a gathering of nerds was called.
“It’s even better than Revenge of the Nerds,” he said, unknowingly validating her thought. “It’s based on an archetypal adventure like you find in all the video games today. There’s a map and keys to unlock the location of the treasure. It’s got pirates and the Goonies are on this quest to save their Goon Docks neighborhood from being turned into a golf course by the evil villains, which has them constantly having to invent cool stuff. . . .
“‘Hey, I’ve got a great idea, you guys!’” he said, raising his voice loud enough to have heads at nearby tables turning toward them. “‘Slick shoes!’”
When she looked at him uncomprehendingly, he explained, “It’s a line from the movie. The invention Data uses to shoot oil out of his shoes so they can escape the evil Fratellis. Though actually, the substance special effects created was made of glycerin, water, and food coloring. Isn’t that interesting?”
“Very.” Not.
“Yeah. Since Data didn’t have Q to supply him with fancy spy stuff like James Bond does, he was forced to invent his own gadgets, like slick shoes and Pinchers of Peril. Which may seem kind of silly, but hey, they end up saving lives when the Goonies go into the caves in search of One-Eyed Willie’s treasure, which ends up saving everyone’s homes.” He smiled for the first time since they’d sat down. “That movie changed my life.”
“That’s quite an impact for a single movie to make.”
“It’s true,” he said earnestly.
At least now he seemed engaged. Unfortunately, his enthusiasm wasn’t directed toward her.
“After watching it, I began taking stuff apart. It drove my mother crazy when I dismantled the toaster, the microwave, and the video recorder, but it’s how I learned how things work, which eventually is how I was able to invent a computer program that made me a multimillionaire before I was twenty.”
“And now you’re working on a new project.”
“Yeah. Some guys would probably just sit back and enjoy the bucks with yachts and private jets and all the women that are attracted to rich guys.”
“But not you.”
“I’m like a killer shark,” he confirmed. “I have to keep moving or I die.”
The way she was about to die of boredom.
“That’s all very fascinating,” she said. “I’ll have to try to catch it sometime.”
“I’ve got the expanded Blu-ray 25th Anniversary Edition,” he volunteered. “Maybe you can come over and we’ll watch it together. It’s got some awesome extras with all seven Goonies showing up to talk about the film.”
He frowned. “Though Sean Astin just walked out in the middle. Which was kind of weird. But maybe it was meant to be a secret to get people talking and wondering about. Like the giant killer octopus scene being deleted from the DVD.”
“I’m sort of in my busy season right now,” she hedged, having not a single clue what he was talking about. “What with all the tourists in town.”
“Maybe after they all leave. I probably watch it at least once a month anyway.”
As he went on asking more questions, methodically recording her responses, Sedona’s mind wandered and her gaze drifted back over to the table where Mac and Annie appeared to be having a fairly serious conversation. When it seemed to ease up, she caught Annie’s eye and pointed toward the restroom.
She might not own a pair of “slick shoes.” But it was definitely time to escape this seemingly endless lunch.
26
Sedona had no sooner followed Annie into the restroom than Maddy joined them. “I guess someone forgot to notify me that we were having a meeting?”
“I just had to get away,” Sedona said. “Before I screamed and everyone would probably think there was a mouse in the restaurant, or a fire, or something, and I’d have caused a stampede of lunch customers.”
“All leaving without paying their checks,” Maddy said. “Which would not have made me all that happy.” She locked the door, leaned against it, and folded her arms. “So, what’s going on? You”—she pointed at Annie—“looked about as serious as you have since I’ve known you.
“While you,” she said, turning toward Sedona, “appeared to be undergoing a tax audit.”
“Worse,” Sedona said. “I was being interviewed for this business the guy’s setting up.”
“So it wasn’t really a date? He’s not into you or your cupcakes?”
“No. Apparently all my customers who were betting on when he was going to ask me out had the wrong idea. He was merely trying to get up the nerve to ask me to lunch. The guy might be rich enough to buy the entire town, but believe me, communicating with the opposite sex isn’t high in his skill set.”
“He looks familiar,” Annie mused. “He’s not bad-looking. Sort of like Clark Kent before he changes into Superman.”
“Yep, he is good-looking. In a nerdish sort of way. Maybe you saw him on the cover of Fortune magazine a few months ago. He’s a member of that illustrious one percent of the wealthiest people in the country, having made gazillions in the tech business. He’s working on a new start-up. Which is the only reason he wanted me to have lunch with him.”
“He wanted financial advice?”
“Hardly. No, he’s doing this personality interview thing, then plugging all my answers into some computer program he’s developed that, according to him, will set people up with compatible partners. With, he assured me, ninety-nine-point-six percent accuracy.”
“Are you talking an online dating service?” Maddy asked.
“Exactly. He’s calling it ‘My Matrix Match.’ Apparently, although he’s been collecting e-mail interviews from subjects for the past year, I’m the first daughter of former flower children he’s run across.”
“Not surprising, in his line of work,” Maddy said.
“True. Plus, the fact that I made such a major change in occupations apparently adds a variable element outside the mean, to fit into his mathematical model.”
“Wow, and doesn’t that sound like a fascinating lunch conversation for a lovely summer day?” Maddy said.
“It seems that you being a CPA-turned-baker would make you more difficult to plug into any niche,” Annie mused.
“Possibly. But I really don’t care whether he can fit me into his metric niche. I just want to get out of here.” She looked pleadingly at Maddy. “Couldn’t you set off a fire alarm or something?”
“It can’t be that bad.”
“Believe me, it is.” Sedona sighed, reached into her purse, took out a zippered mesh bag, and repaired her lipstick. “As much as I was really hoping for some of that seasonal marionberry ice cream you’ve got on the menu, I’m just going to go back to the table and tell him there was some sort of emergency at the bakery. If I have to spend another minute with Goonie Guy, I’ll go stark raving mad.”
“He likes The Goonies?” Annie asked.
“Apparently the movie changed his life. Why?” Her gaze sharpened. “Oh, don’t tell me—”
“I thought it was fun,” Annie said. “Except for the giant octopus at the end. Which made no sense to the story line.”
“That’s exactly what he said. Maybe we ought to switch lunch dates.”
“As much as I value our fr
iendship, and you know I think of you as the sister I never had, I’ll pass on that.”
“I would too, in her place,” Maddy said. “After all, every woman in town has been throwing herself at Mac Culhane. And here our own Annie has him hooked.”
“It’s just lunch,” Annie insisted.
“You’ve always been the worst liar,” Sedona said. “I’ve no idea how you survived foster care. From the little you’ve said, life there sounds like the pilot for a Survival of the Fittest show on the Nature Channel. You two have a lot more than lunch going on.”
“She’s right,” Maddy agreed. “If the chemistry between the two of you had gotten any hotter, you would’ve set off the sprinkler system.”
Fortunately, Annie was saved from answering when the doorknob jiggled.
“I’ve got to get back to the kitchen,” Maddy said.
“I need to escape.” Sedona said. “Like yesterday.”
“And I’m going to go back and try to remember all the reasons I’m not going to have a hot, sexual fling with Midnight Mac,” Annie said.
“Good luck with that,” both women said in unison as Maddy unlocked the door and they all walked out past the waiting woman, who said, “Thank you,” to Annie.
“You’re welcome. For what?”
“They set up a pool down at Bennington Ford, where I work in customer relations, about when you two would first get together in public. I guessed here, for lunch. Today. Which means I win. So not only did you and hottie Midnight Mac pay for my lunch, I’m going to be able to buy that Coach bag I’ve been coveting at the outlet mall in Lincoln City.”
Apparently Mac hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told her they were the topic du jour everywhere in town. She’d realized, early on, that everyone in Shelter Bay lived in each other’s pockets, which was mostly a good thing, since the flip side was that everyone cared about everyone else.
Until she’d made that late-night phone call to Midnight Mac, she’d managed to fly comfortably under the radar.
As she walked back to the table, suddenly aware that nearly every eye in the place was on her, Annie tried to wrap her mind around the idea that people were actually betting on her and Mac’s relationship.
Not that they actually had a relationship.
Damn.
As he looked up at her and smiled, Annie knew that Sedona was right. She was a lousy liar. Especially when she tried to lie to herself.
27
What the hell are they doing in there? Women, Mac thought, as he tapped his fingers on the table, were dangerous enough by themselves. When they got together, well, it was time for a guy to be scared, because they were definitely plotting something.
He would have been scared. Hell, maybe he should’ve been. But the fact was, he was too freaking turned on by what she’d just said, right before Sedona had the bad timing to call her into the ladies’ restroom for some kind of girl confab.
The guy the cupcake baker had been having lunch with didn’t even appear to be missing her. Instead, he was busily drinking his fizzy water and typing away on a BlackBerry as if he was in some sort of bubble. Like the Cone of Silence in Get Smart.
When Maddy had headed for the ladies’ room as well, Mac decided he might be in for a long wait. He glanced down at his watch, making note of the time, because although patience had never been his long suit, he was willing to wait as long as it took for Annie to return. But he damn well was going to deduct the time she spent in there with the other two women from the agreed-upon length of their lunch date.
Finally, Maddy emerged and headed back to her kitchen, while Sedona returned to her table, where BlackBerry guy didn’t even bother to look up. Which was proof that he was either blind or some sort of robot.
Since their table was the farthest from the small alcove leading to the restrooms, Annie had the longest distance to walk. Which allowed him to drink in the sight of her, the sway of that yellow gingham skirt, the crest of her breasts swelling above the dress’s neckline, those thin little straps that he’d discovered, while following her to the shelves in her shop, crossed on her smooth bare back.
Today’s cat-eye glasses reminded him of the ones Marilyn Monroe had worn in How to Marry a Millionaire, which he’d caught late one night on TV when his ghosts had kept him from sleeping. Although Annie might not have Monroe’s voluptuous curves, that didn’t stop her from being every bit as sexy.
“I’m sorry,” she said, as she sat back down across from him.
“No problem.” His only problem was that from the way his guy parts had gone on red alert, he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to walk out of this restaurant without giving the town a new scandal to talk about. “Is everything all right?”
She slid a glance over at Sedona, who was signing a credit card receipt. “It is now.”
“She deserves better,” Mac said.
“You’ll get no disagreement with me there.” She picked up the handwritten menu, which changed daily. “The raspberry crème brûlée certainly looks good.”
“Yeah. It does.”
“Though maybe the blackberries with the crème fraiche,” she mused. “Did you know that if you mix heavy cream with buttermilk and let it rest for twelve hours in the refrigerator, you get crème fraiche?”
“No. That’s not something they taught us in the Air Force.”
“I learned it in one of Maddy’s classes. We made a three-course French dinner.”
“Sounds great.” Telling himself that this lunch was all about getting to know each other, he stomped down the fantasy of ripping that dress off, spreading crème fraiche all over her body, then licking it off. “Did you mean it?”
“About the cream and buttermilk?”
“No. About what you said, just before you went off to the women’s summit. About wanting to kiss me.”
“I shouldn’t.” She was pretending a deeper interest in the menu.
“That wasn’t the question.”
“Yes.” She sighed heavily, then looked up at him. How had he never realized he had a thing for women in glasses? “I shouldn’t,” she repeated.
“Why not?”
“Because I was serious about not wanting to get into a relationship.”
“I think it’s a bit early to worry about that.” Though he was beginning to. Mac hadn’t decided how he felt about this complication. “And believe it or not, I’m no longer the party animal deejays are made out to be, so I don’t tend to sleep with women on the first date. But if you want to just use me for sex, hey, I’m okay with that, too.”
She didn’t immediately answer as those faint lines appeared between her brows again. “I’m trying to decide if you’re serious or not.”
“That makes two of us.” Then her big gray eyes dropped to his mouth, as if remembering that kiss she’d said she wanted, and all his good intentions to take things slow went south. Straight from his brain to below his belt.
“So,” he managed. “Which sounds good? The blackberries or the crème brûlée?”
He nearly groaned when she licked those lips he was dying to taste again with the tip of her tongue.
“I’m not really in the mood for dessert,” she said.
“How about a drive out to the beach?”
“To that place you told me about earlier?”
“Yeah. Or we could go to your place.”
“No.” Her response came quickly, giving him the impression that while she might be up for another kiss, or hopefully more, she wasn’t ready to jump into bed. Which was probably the wise, sensible decision.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t feeling either wise or sensible at the moment.
“The beach,” she decided. “But I really do need to get back to the store soon.”
“Deal.” He waved the server over for the check, and to save time, rather than waiting to go through
the credit-card-charging routine, he tossed some bills into the lavender folder.
Playing the gentleman, he pulled her chair out for her. Then, with his hand on her smooth, bare back, they walked out of the restaurant together.
28
“You realize we’ve probably just landed ourselves on the front page of the Shelter Bay Sentinel,” Annie said as they drove away from the restaurant and back toward town.
“You’re overestimating our importance,” he said. “We’ll probably land somewhere between the notice of the Taste of Shelter Bay festival and the police report.”
“Which last week consisted of a call about a suspicious car stopping at mailboxes, which turned out to be the mail carrier,” she said. “Another mailbox was vandalized when someone painted a yellow smiley face on it and a domestic disturbance reported by a neighbor next door to a home where the couple who lived there turned out to be engaging in ‘vigorous sexual role-play.’”
“Don’t forget the pool of blood on the pier,” he said.
“Which turned out to be spilled Pinot Noir.” She’d laughed when she’d read that one. “So, the top crime on the Shelter Bay police report hit parade was two cars stopping on a Forest Service road outside of town, some teenage boys getting out, having a fistfight, then getting back into their cars and driving away.”
“The first rule of Fight Club is never talk about Fight Club.” Mac glanced over at her. “And you don’t sound all that upset.”
Annie shrugged. “It was a little unsettling, since I’m not used to being in the spotlight. But everyone was already speculating about us. At least we’ve livened things up until the next excitement.”
“Someone’s bound to get drunk on the Fourth and do something stupid,” Mac said encouragingly. “That should take the heat off us.”
“I’m not sure. Especially since the mayor made that proclamation declaring Shelter Bay the ‘Romance Capital of the Oregon Coast’ and decided to add a matchmaking fair as part of the Fourth of July weekend festival.”
“That’s a plus. There’ll be lots of other couples to focus on, so we won’t be stuck in the bull’s-eye.”
