The deck held a scattering of lounge chairs and small tables. A large rectangular canvas bag and folded beach chairs sat in the corner of the deck. As he noticed these, Noelle motioned toward the bag.
“That’s your job, Mr. Sampson. That’s a tent-type tarp that should provide us with some much-needed shade today. ‘Some assembly required’ has never been my strong suit. Why don’t you and Raine head out to the beach and set it up? Instructions are on the bag. Oh, and take a couple of those beach chairs, if you can carry them. I’ll bring some towels and a few drinks and snacks out in a few minutes.”
“You got it.” Sean turned toward his daughter. “Sweetie, let’s check out the beach.”
Raine was off, shedding her cover-up and sandals on the way, and was to the surf before Sean reached the bottom of the steps.
After he set the bag and chairs down, he quickly shed his shirt and sandals. In a few minutes, he had read the instructions and was ready to get to work. Ten minutes later, the rectangular tarp was up. He positioned it over a patch of sand that looked ideal for sandcastles, only a few yards from the surf. He rechecked the last of the four post anchors and tightened the lines. He looked toward the house to see Noelle appear on the deck. She made her way toward the beach. She was overloaded with the cooler and food, so he hurried up to help. Sweat trickled down his spine. He wondered if it was from his efforts concerning the tarp or from seeing her walking gracefully across the sand. He met her and took some of her burden, and they walked together to the tarp. Raine had wasted no time and was sculpting a sandcastle.
Noelle spread two towels over the sand, in the sun next to the tarp, and positioned a small pillow on one of the towels. He offered her something to drink and retrieved two small water bottles from the cooler. He watched her remove and fold her cover-up and lay it with her sandals, at the head of her towel. He was thankful for the shades he wore, which hopefully masked his expression. She wore a tastefully skimpy white bikini. He struggled to swallow a mouthful of water.
****
She packed a small cooler with drinks and snacks and watched Sean assemble the tarp. She found herself making small, quiet, almost obscene noises when he peeled away his T-shirt and attacked the job. His broad shoulders glistened in the sun and the ripples of his abs created rows of narrow shadows across his stomach. Spellbound, she watched as his arm and shoulder muscles moved in perfect harmony while completing the task at hand. The dark hair on his chest was visible, even from a distance, as were his calf muscles when he bent down to jam the anchors into the sand.
Oh my God!
Connie was right about those abs. The dark hair, as it protruded from the baseball cap, made his image the perfect poster photo for any billboard ad that wanted to accent sexy. Anywhere. Selling anything!
She took a deep breath, checked the contents of the cooler, grabbed the towels, and walked out onto the deck, forgetting for a moment to close the door behind her. She was totally flustered. She wasn’t at all sure she could walk. Her heart beat wildly. He looked up and trotted toward the deck. For a moment, she took him in through her sunglasses, and his god-like movements seemed to be animated and in slow motion, his firm muscles and abs glistening as they moved in perfect harmony with his tall frame. When he reached her and took the cooler from her, she almost dropped everything else. A trickle of perspiration formed on the small of her back. Her body responded to his being so close. Even though he was sweating, he smelled very nice, primal and definitely all man. She resolved to get in the water quickly, just to cool off.
Where was all this coming from? She had never experienced this kind of problem before, had never been so out of control, so excited from the sight of a man. Did he notice? Did he have a clue what he did to her?
At the beach, there would be no way she could keep the cover-up on the entire day, so she reluctantly took it off. He offered a drink, and she folded the garment and laid it neatly on her sandals at the head of her towel.
He turned toward her with his drink, and she lay down on the towel.
He hardly seemed to notice her bikini at all.
Maybe some conversation would get his attention. “The tarp looks good. I can’t believe how fast you got it set up.”
“Piece of cake,” he said, but seemed hesitant to make eye contact. Had she gone too far with the bikini? She tried hard to stay fit and slender. Had her efforts not been good enough? He busied himself with adjusting and stabilizing the anchors.
“You must spend a lot of time outside,” she said, trying to extend the conversation. “You’ve got a good start on a tan. Such a nice skin tone—I’m envious. It seems all I can do is burn.”
“Yeah, well, thanks,” he said but only glanced at her for a moment before diverting his attention away. “That little girl likes to spend a lot of time outdoors. Between the patio, the pier fishing, and working on the boat, we do seem to be out a lot. Makes it tough for her, though—her skin’s similar to yours.”
With that comment, his glance meandered from her shoulders to her legs. He quickly looked away and cleared his throat.
“She…ahh, it’s hard to—anyway, if I don’t keep her slathered down with sunscreen, she gets burned.”
Noelle took sunscreen from her bag. Me, too. Please offer to put some of this on me!
Sean seemed more interested in the sandcastle Raine was sculpting.
Okay, I get it! You’re a great dad, watching your child. But what about me?
She lay back, frustrated. Obviously, he wasn’t going to be distracted.
No matter what tactics she applied.
****
Noelle seemed happy soaking up the sun. Sean joined Raine in the construction of a sandcastle. He doubted if he could carry on a conversation with Noelle without drooling on himself and gawking at her anyway.
Give me a minute to get used to that drop-dead body, please.
To say she wore the bikini well was an absurd understatement. He had suspected she looked good but never dreamed she was put together so well. She didn’t seem to be aware that it made her all the more attractive. She was so unassuming, unlike a lot of women he had seen on the beach who continually flaunted it. If anyone deserved to flaunt it, it was her. It seemed that type of self-centered behavior wasn’t in her make-up.
Oh, great! Something else hard not to like about her.
“Last one in the water is a rotten egg!” Raine shouted from behind a mound of sand.
Before he could react, Raine made a beeline for the surf. He quickly shed his shades and cap and ran after her. Before he could reach her, Noelle sprinted by him. He was definitely about to become the rotten egg. He kicked the waves and dove past his daughter, who had stopped in the very shallow waves. Noelle surged past him, out to deeper water. She laughed. The salt water played on her shoulders, and she wiped wet strands of hair from her face. Her smile was as beautiful in the sun as it had been that night in the moonlight on his patio.
“Okay, Miss Noelle, how did you get from there to here so fast?” He deliberately spoke loud enough for his daughter to hear. “And how did you get up from that towel and past me before I could get halfway to the water? I thought I was pretty fast, but you blew me away. Are you some kind of closet sprinter?”
“As a matter of fact, I am. Or at least I used to be. If you’re ever near Pensacola High, you should take a look at the trophy case. You might see a few shiny objects with my name on them. Some track, but mostly for swimming. You might have to dust them off—it was a few years ago—but I think they might still be there.”
“You’re kidding me. What else should I know about you?” I would really like to know!
“Sorry, buddy.” She swam closer to him. “That’s it. I’m afraid what you see is what you get.”
He checked on Raine who was back on the beach, playing at the edge of the water. He looked back to Noelle. It would be hard not to like what he saw.
“I’m impressed!” He struggled to tread water. Noelle moved effortless, barely
making a ripple. “And I don’t buy that ‘what you see’ stuff. I think there’s a lot more to you than you let on. But be aware—I’ve read up on you. Your résumé is quite impressive and extensive. I think if you laid out your honors and awards, you might cover up a great deal of the track you used to run. Psychologist of the Year two years ago? Featured in Psychology Today, Newsweek, and USA Today?”
“Everyone gets featured in Psychology Today.”
Sean scoffed.
“And if we’re talking awards, you’ve got a few in your pocket also.” Her smile lit up the day. She treaded water in a semi-circle around him. He moved around in pace to face her. “New York Times best-sellers list three books in a row. All kinds of literary awards.”
Although he tried to hide it, his expression must have said all. Her narrative faded as he looked away.
“I’m sorry, did I say—”
“No, not at all.” He looked toward Raine, who sat at the edge of the waves digging into the sand. “What say we see what that little girl is up to?”
To her credit, she never lost the smile. “Is that a challenge for another race?”
He held up one hand, shook his head and smiled. “Concede!”
“You’re no fun,” she said and frowned.
You have no idea, lady.
Together, they swam toward the shore.
Chapter Nine
In his book The Winds of Time, Sean created a scene set in Puerto Rico, where his protagonist was drugged during a crowded Cinco de Mayo celebration on a street in Old San Juan. When his hero woke, he was bound and gagged in ankle-deep water in a small, dark, and dank cistern. Snakes swam in circles around him. The water rose quickly from a sudden torrential cloud-burst.
On this fifth of May, as the plane descended toward Kennedy, a similar storm shook and rattled the wings and fuselage of a very old and worn 757. Sean sat with hands folded and looked out the window. He was doing his best not to look terrified. The plane tossed around in nasty turbulence, and it occurred to him that being drugged and surrounded by snakes might not be a bad alternative right then. At least, in his book he could write his way out of danger. His daughter was busy working a crossword, oblivious to the frightening situation. On Raine’s other side, Noelle sat white-knuckled and smiling, trying very hard not to look scared out of her wits as well. The plane took a sudden dip in altitude, and several passengers screamed as if on a roller coaster.
Raine kept right on filling in words.
Earlier, a flight attendant serving juice and sodas smiled and patted Raine’s head. “Aw, pretending to do the crossword, like Mommy and Daddy.” Sean had looked at Noelle to catch her reaction, who did her best to keep from laughing. Raine gave the attendant a funny look, as if to say I’m not pretending. You want to try and see if you can do better? Instead, to Sean’s relief, his little girl smiled at the attendant and filled in a nine-letter word for “wanting to succeed.” Sean had seen the clue earlier while looking over her shoulders, and had come up empty. Raine said the clue, and it took her all of five seconds to pencil in a-m-b-i-t-i-o-u-s. As she wrote the word in, Sean frowned and glanced at Noelle. She again appeared to be stifling a laugh.
Another jarring bump turned Noelle’s knuckles whiter, and Sean squirmed in his seat. Raine looked at him, then Noelle.
“Don’t worry,” she said and patted Noelle’s hand. “This plane is built to withstand a lot more structural stress than the bad air we’re getting right now.”
In spite of his own uneasiness, Sean resolved this was sufficient reassurance they were in no immediate danger of crashing and dying.
An older gentleman seated across the aisle heard this wisdom from Raine. He gave Noelle a puzzled look. “What did she say?”
Sean couldn’t hear Noelle’s response, but the man smiled uneasily and nodded. A few seconds later, his puzzled look was back.
“Are you sure Global This Morning is okay with plugging the adoption process?” Sean pulled out all the stops in an effort to distract from his apprehension. The plane continued to bounce around. Noelle seemed relieved to have the subject changed.
“Yes, they were fine with it. It might have to be quick, given we are scheduled for only a three-minute segment. And I let them know you don’t want to talk about your books. At first they questioned this, but I think they finally understood we want to keep this about Raine.”
“Thanks.” He scoffed. “As you might imagine, Derek wasn’t too happy about that. Oddly, he said sales of a few of my books have spiked since this whole matter leaked. What time did you say we go on?”
“After a break around eight a.m. I couldn’t get a script of what questions they were going to ask. According to the producer, they keep it informal—a getting-to-know-and-introducing-Raine session.”
The little professor was right; the plane was quite structurally sound and touched down in one piece, a few minutes behind schedule. A large, dark-skinned man wearing a chauffeur’s hat and uniform stood at the exit to the ramp. He held a sign that read Sampson. They made their way through the hordes of people toward him. He smiled when he saw Raine. From behind his back, he produced a large stuffed lion with a mouthful of tickets. Raine’s eyes opened wide, and her mouth flew open. She took the lion and gave the driver a hug, which turned the man’s face a maroon red. He seemed instantly enamored with her and spread his arms. She jumped into them, and he held her all the way to baggage claim. He summoned help with the luggage and then carried her to the limo.
The driver knew the city quite well and tried to point out landmarks on the way to mid-town. Raine yawned, too tired to notice. By the time they reached the hotel, the droopy-eyed child offered little resistance to a pre-planned nap. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and with the excitement of the city, Sean doubted she would sleep well that night.
Raine was soon snoring in her adjoining bedroom. Sean joined Noelle in the sitting area of the large suite. She stood in front of a bar, preparing to make drinks. She took two glasses down from a shelf. “You look like a Scotch man.”
“Lots of ice in a tall glass, half-water, please.” In a matter of seconds, she handed him the drink, and he fell into a soft chair. She poured wine for herself and took a seat across from him.
After taking a hefty slug, he smiled. “Ah, perfect.” He lifted his glass. “You must be tired. Please, rest if you like. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
“I plan on doing that. But first, I think we need to talk more about Raine. I’ve been doing a lot of research, and I have some interesting updates.”
“Yes, absolutely.” Sean rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. As much as he tried to think positively, a tiny bell of alarm gave him pause. “You talk, I’ll listen.”
“Okay, but feel free to ask questions as I go along.” She gracefully lifted and folded those beautiful legs under her. “For lack of a better term, let’s attribute the unusual talent Raine displays to the results of a ‘hybrid ESP.’” She held fingers in quotes. “There’s a few technical terms that might apply, but for our purposes, and from what I’ve witnessed, in addition to what you’ve told me, she doesn’t quite fit any of the conditions or specific clinical categories—”
“Conditions?” he asked. “Is this some sort of disease?”
“No, not at all. And it’s not the same connotation you might apply to a medical or psychological anomaly. We should probably term it something else. Let’s call her situation…well, simply a gift. I know we’ve thrown that word around a lot, but it really does fit. Because from all I have researched and can determine, this is not a disease of any kind and therefore offers very little, if any, downside. It’s something she has that only a very few others possess. Basically, as in most situations where an anomaly of intelligence is involved, most studies indicate her gift is enhanced by certain chemical reactions in the brain.”
Sean frowned and shifted in his chair.
“Don’t be alarmed at that; it’s not something to worry about. The better
news is it doesn’t come with any known side effects or conditions one might expect from, say, a savant or high-functioning autistic child. I mean like social issues, self-destructive behavior, and the like. What Raine has been blessed with is very rare.”
“Are there others with this condition?”
“It’s something only a handful of people currently or in the past have experienced, as far as we know.
“But let’s get back to the chemical part. We don’t know what causes her brain to produce the chemicals that enhance her ability of keen perception, or what regulates the level of the chemicals and causes them to increase or dissipate. So, the ESP she exhibits can come and go, depending on the level of the stimulating chemicals. Without getting too technical, there are literally hundreds of thousands of chemical reactions that occur every second in the brain. Most everyone has heard of two of the main chemicals—the ones that get a lot of press. Dopamine and serotonin are the most common. They are the happy and mood chemicals. But there is also a hormone called norepinephrine, which is secreted by the adrenal glands. This is the fight or flight chemical the brain produces when we’re faced with fear or danger. The brain can respond in literally hundreds of ways, depending on the mix of this hormone with the other brain chemicals.”
“I have to admit, this is Greek to me.”
“Not to worry; it’s Greek to a lot of people. But think of it like this. The level of chemicals her brain produces varies—when and why, we don’t know, but it serves to dictate how strongly or how weakly her brain will react or in her case, dictate the strength of her extrasensory perception.”
“You said there were a few others with this gift. How does her case compare to the others with similar ESP?”
She took a few seconds to formulate her next statement and looked gorgeous in the process. He was reminded of her at her office, and she was quite sexy in her element.
“Well, to start with, the other cases display this ability rarely, not frequently, as Raine does. I mean—and this is going to sound very strange to you—she has a nearly constant ability to know certain things before they happen. And unlike others with the gift, hers appears consistently accurate, not in the sense that she can predict the future and not even in the purest sense of the word predict. Now this is going to sound even stranger, but hear me out.”
Time for Raine Page 9
