by Jill Sanders
In Too Deep
~ Grayton Series ~
Roman & Marissa
© 2015 Jill Sanders
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Summary
Roman has been searching for his long-lost adopted sister, Marissa. When she disappeared shortly after her seventeenth birthday, he was the only one who had a clue why.
Now that he’s finally found out where she’s been hiding all these years, he would do anything to get back the only woman he’s ever loved.
In Too Deep
by
Jill Sanders
Chapter One
Missy leaned against the counter and swayed her hips to the old tune that was pumping out of the small speakers she’d hung up the week before. The short shorts she was wearing were a little too old and loose, but she didn’t care, not when the music was taking her back to the good ol’ days.
Images flashed in her mind as she punched the keys to the old ten-key calculator. She smiled when she saw that she was under budget again this month, but she would work the numbers once more just to make sure.
It still got her deep in her chest when she saw the extra money sitting in her bank account after everything was paid at the end of the month. Smiling, she looked up as one of her employees, Jenny, walked in.
The girl was young and pretty enough to keep customers happy, even when they found out they would have to pay a little more than at some of the other places along the Gulf shore.
White-sugar-sand beaches sat right outside of Dog’s Landing’s front door, along with the long dock that housed three of her best moneymakers. One boat was a ferry, which could carry five full-size cars to Dog Island, along with over a dozen passengers. One of the other boats was smaller, but made just about as much money as the ferry did carrying parasailers across the crystal-clear waters of the Gulf. Her last boat was bigger and made the most money by taking a group of eight out into the deeper waters on fishing charters.
Buying the two other boats had been one of the first changes she’d made when she’d inherited the small convenience store, along with the dock and the old ferryboat.
It had been a shock at first, running her own business, but she’d adjusted, like she always had in life.
Sighing, she stood up and watched Jenny straighten a few cans of food and boxes of cereal as she made her way towards the back of the store. Her long blonde hair swayed with each step she took. Her standard uniform of shorts and a button-up blouse made Missy remember she had wanted to go clothes shopping for a few new items.
“Sorry I’m late.” Jenny smiled as she walked around the counter.
Missy laughed. “Jenny, you’re never late.” She glanced at the clock and smiled. “Actually, you’re five minutes early.”
Jenny sighed. “I’m late if I’m not ten minutes early.”
Missy shook her head at her. “I just can’t understand it.”
Jenny leaned against the counter and giggled. “My granny taught me well.”
“Wish I could say the same about all my other employees.” She frowned when she noticed that the smallest of her boats was still docked outside. There were customers waiting out on the docks for their turn to enjoy flying over the water. “Where are Tom and Roger?” She sighed and knew it was past time to get more reliable employees to run the parasailing tours.
“Where do you think?” Jenny picked up the shop phone and dialed. “Hey, yeah, again.” She rolled her eyes. “Okay. Thanks.”
Missy crossed her arms over her chest and watched Jenny hang up the phone. “You can’t keep asking them to do this.”
Jenny smiled. “I know, but they like it.”
“He’s old. They’re too old.”
Jenny laughed. “Not as old as you think.”
“I don’t know how those two can keep up with people half their age.”
Jenny smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “They tell me working here keeps them young.”
Missy laughed. “Right.” Just then they both turned to see Jenny’s grandfather, John, and his best friend, Bob, walk in. Both men were in shorts and smiling from ear to ear.
The men lived less than a block from the store and had been a staple in both Carrabelle, Florida, and to Dog’s Landing since before she’d been born.
“Good thing you called. We were driving the wives stir-crazy.” Bob chuckled as he walked over and grabbed the boat keys from behind the countertop.
“Full day?” John asked.
She nodded. “You’re booked solid. Unless Tom and Roger show up, it’s all yours for the day.”
As the men glanced at each other then walked out chuckling, Jenny leaned closer. “You know they make more in tips than Tom and Roger.”
She sighed and nodded. “Yeah, it’s funny when two old men can out-earn two young hunks.”
Jenny laughed. “Tom and Roger are not hunks. They’re dorks.”
Missy frowned and tilted her head. “I wish you would have told me that when I hired them.”
“I did.” She laughed. “Trust me, next time, let me do the hiring.”
She nodded. “Okay, it’s all yours.” There were still things she was learning about the business, even after five years of running it.
“I’m going to head out on the next ferry ride. I’ve got a few deliveries.” She nodded to the cart full of boxes, which were stuffed with orders.
The store had many customers who lived on Dog Island in St. George Sound, one of Florida’s only totally secluded islands. There was a small airstrip on the island, but most of the locals used her ferry service to move between the island and the mainland. Many of the people who lived on the island were pretty self-reliant. There were fewer than three dozen homes on the semi-private island and she had almost a dozen loyal customers who helped keep her doors open and her shelves stocked with groceries.
Dog’s Landing had been delivering groceries to the islanders since she’d taken over the store. The customers loved that their food was delivered fresh daily and she loved the work.
“Enjoy it. I hear we’re supposed to have some bad weather later this week.” Jenny leaned down and pulled out a fresh bottle of water from the stocked fridge behind the counter.
“Yeah.” She frowned. “Already I’ve had a few cancellations for fishing trips.”
Jenny shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll bet it will pass quickly. It always does this time of year. Then, you watch. We’ll be booked solid for the Fourth of July.”
Missy smiled as she loaded the small handcart full of the deliveries. “Yeah, remember last year?” She laughed. “The two groups that fought over the charter boat.” She laughed, remembering how the two groups had tried to outbid one another for the day use of her boat.
“We could hire another boat this year,” Jenny said, looking over the schedule book. “We’re already booked, but I bet we could easily book another boat solid for that weekend.”
She tilted her head. “Do you know someone?”
Jenny smiled. “I don’t, but I bet my grandfather would. I can ask him when he comes in for lunch.”
Missy thought about it and nodded. “While you’re at it, if he knows anyone else to hire…”
Jenny laughed. “I’ll ask. If Tom and Roger show up?”
She sighed and closed her eyes. “I guess I need to go ahead and rip that Band-Aid off as well.”
Jenny smiled. “I’ll do it. Don’t worry. I already have one person in mind for replacing them. I’ll have to look around for another.” She frowned.
“You are too good to me.” Missy smiled. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Good thing you pay me well.” She smiled at their private joke. “Now, you’d better get going. The ferry is coming in.” She nodded towards the front windows. Sure enough, the big boat was making its way towards the dock.
By the time Missy had carted out the two loads of boxes and the large cooler for her deliveries, the ferry was already filled up with new passengers and cars.
She waved up to Clay, one of the ferry captains. Clay and Marv, two men who had worked as ferry master for the past eight years, usually alternated workdays. She allowed them to make their own schedules, since it tended to work best when they communicated with one another directly. She didn’t mind, so long as there was someone manning the ferry seven days a week.
She stored the supplies and locked them down for the half-hour journey to the island, and then she made her way up to sit next to Clay.
“Hey,” she sighed as he started pulling the ferry away from the dock.
“Hey.” He smiled over at her. Clay was easily one of the sexiest men she knew. But all the women around knew that Clay’s wife of almost ten years, and his high school sweetheart, was eight and a half months pregnant. “Do you have a lot of deliveries today?” He glanced over at her quickly and she wished more than anything that she could find someone that would cause her heart to skip who didn’t have a gold band around his finger.
She shrugged her shoulders. “It might take me a while.” She rolled her eyes. “Mrs. Mette has two boxes today.”
He chuckled and she felt her insides kick at the rich sound. She could only ever remember one other person who’d caused her body to respond that way. Sighing, she forced her mind to focus as she glanced below deck at the passengers enjoying the slow ride.
“I don’t know why you let that woman push you around like she does.”
She smiled. “Well, it helps that she’s one of our best customers.”
Clay glanced at her again. “And one of the craziest people on Dog Island.”
She chuckled. “Yeah, but you have to admit, she give us something to talk about.”
He laughed and nodded and then focused on maneuvering the ferry out of the small port and into the deeper waters of Saint George Sound.
Missy loved the peaceful ride out to the island and back. She even enjoyed riding the small electric cart on the island to deliver the groceries. She really did enjoy everyone on the island, even Mrs. Mette, although it was quite a pain when she happened to be in one of her moods.
Missy shivered at the thought of having to run back to the mainland to replace an item she wasn’t satisfied with. One time, it had taken her a full day of running back and forth before Mrs. Mette was satisfied that she had the freshest eggs possible.
By the time she had everything unloaded from the ferry, with the help of Clay, there was a small trail of sweat rolling down her back. She loved living along the Gulf Coast, especially during the summer months.
As she pulled her small electrical cart out of the parking area, she waved at a few locals and hit the small road towards her first delivery. Dog Island was a small community she loved being part of, even though she didn’t live on the island herself. She smiled as she pulled up to her first stop and thought of her small cottage a few blocks from the store. She’d been shocked when she’d found it up for sale and had been even more in shock when she’d been approved for the loan. She could remember the countless hours she’d spent as a child dreaming about her future home. This one hadn’t disappointed her childhood dreams.
The first few deliveries went quickly and by the time the cart was almost empty, she had to pull over so she could eat the small sandwich and soda she’d packed in the cooler for her lunch. As she sat on the side of the road, people stopped and talked to her as they made their way around the island. There were no posted speed limits and everyone knew everyone else, which made it easier for her to make her deliveries, since people tended to leave their homes unlocked.
Half of her clients left instructions for her to deliver and put away their groceries, which she did without a qualm. But Mrs. Mette was a whole other breed. Even though she should have been her next stop, Missy waited until after she’d delivered the other two deliveries before heading back towards the older woman’s house.
Here, on the farthest and most secluded tip of the island, there wasn’t a paved road; instead, the sand had been cleared for carts and cars to get through. Most of the homes along this part of the path were accessible by water only. Yet her cart easily made the trek since she’d replaced the smaller tires just last year with larger ones that had high-traction treads. It was a bumpy ride that she couldn’t make in bad weather, but she enjoyed it. It was like going four-wheeling or riding in a sand buggy. She loved seeing the white sand kick up behind her as she flew towards the largest house on the island.
Mrs. Mette was in her late sixties and looked like she was at least twenty years older, probably due to the amount of time the woman spent in a bathing suit sitting out by the huge swimming pool in the back of her house.
Her home was far away from anyone else and Missy had it on good authority that Mrs. Mette didn’t always bathe with a suit on. She cringed at the thought and took a deep breath, silently praying that today would be one of the woman’s more sane days.
She pulled the handcart off the back and piled on the two large boxes of Mrs. Mette’s items. When she finally made it through the sand to the small boardwalk and up the stairs, Mrs. Mette was already holding the door open for her.
“I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten about me.” The older woman smiled at her. Missy noted that she was wearing a long silk cover over her suit today. She was thankful that it appeared to be one of her better days.
“No, just a very busy delivery day.” She smiled and stopped the cart in front of the door.
“Oh, good. Well, come on in.” She held the door open.
It still got to Missy, seeing the amount of wealth this lone woman had. Even though she’d chosen to seclude herself on an island in the Gulf of Mexico and had no car or other means of transportation that Missy knew of, the woman was wealthy beyond belief.
The furniture alone must have cost more than Missy’s little cottage home, which she was so very proud of. Italian tile, marble, stone, and some of the richest, warmest woods she’d ever seen filled the more than six-thousand-square-foot place that was this woman’s entire world.
The outside of the home looked nothing like the inside. Outside, the place was plain, boring. It was a fairly square home with a large deck and pool off the back. The metal roof was a bright gold, matching the yellowish tint of the walls. There were lots of windows, and each one had storm shutters in case of high winds.
But inside, the house could have come straight off the pages of Better Homes and Gardens, Millionaire Edition. Large stone columns separated the two largest rooms, and high ceilings made the rooms look even bigger. The front room was decorated in all white. Large white sofas with pale blue fluffed pillows sat facing one another on the marbled floors. Thick accent rugs cushioned their footsteps as they walked past the perfect room towards the kitchen area.
There was a large marble dining table, which could easily sit six people, immediately in front of a large island. To say that Mrs. Mette’s kitchen was what dreams were made of would have been an understatement.
The first time Missy had seen it, she’d dreamed about it for the rest of that month.
Large, warm wood planks ran along the high ceiling as soon as you passed through the stone archways into the kitchen area. Two large chandeliers hung high over the dining table. Missy just knew that they each cost more than her car.
The kitchen itself was completely white, like the rest of the downstairs. Its high cabinets and stone counter-tops always gleamed. Actually, Missy had never seen anything out of place in the house. Mrs. Mette seemed to not belong in the gleaming cleanliness.
She stopped her cart in front of the bar area and quickly got to work putting each item in its designated spot, noting when she found the woman was low on other items on the checklist she’d created almost six years ago.
“You’re running low on wild rice,” she said absentmindedly as she continued to put the items away.
“Yes, I had a few guests over the other night.” The woman sighed and leaned against the counter, watching Missy’s every move.
“Oh?” She smiled at the woman and jotted down to deliver two more boxes the next trip.
“Yes, well.” The woman shook her head and glanced out the window, something Missy had never seen her do before. Mrs. Mette had always kept a very keen eye on her movements when she was there, almost like she didn’t trust her to not steal anything or, worse, drop something and make a mess.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, turning to the older woman when she noticed a sad look cross her eyes.
The woman glanced back at her and then blinked a few times. “Yes, of course it is.” She straightened her shoulders and Missy saw that she was back to her old self. She turned back to the task at hand.
“Are you married?” Mrs. Mette asked out of the blue.
For the six and a half years that Missy had been delivering this woman’s groceries, she’d never asked her a personal question. Until now.
“No.” She frowned as she put away the last can of tomato soup. Then she turned towards Mrs. Mette.
“Have you ever been?” The older woman had her arms crossed over her chest and was leaning back on the marble counter-tops.
Missy shook her head, unsure of what had brought on the line of questioning. Sure, she was friendly with most of the customers she delivered for. Most of them knew her life story and she knew theirs. It wasn’t as if she’d been hiding anything from anyone. A deep feeling in her gut made its way to her heart and she felt it skip a beat. Okay, maybe just a few things.
