Down and Out in Flamingo Beach

by Marcia King-Gamble

  Preston took another gulp of beer. “You make a good point, so what are you going to do?”

  “I’m done,” Derek said, setting down his glass as the room around him began to blur. “I’m moving on.”

  “So who’s the next candidate? Someone in this bar?”

  Derek glared at him.

  Preston stared back. He slid off his stool and reached for his wallet. “I got to get home. If not you’ll be testifying for me in divorce court. Coming?”

  “I’ll be along in a while.”

  “Should I take your car keys from you?”

  “I told you I walked,” Derek said.

  Preston threw some bills on the bar. “Try not to get too drunk then,” he said, heading off in the direction of the exit.

  Derek already had a finger up, signaling the bartender to fill him up.

  Chapter 17

  “I haven’t heard from Derek in at least a week,” Joya confided as she and Emilie sat side by side enjoying a pedicure—Emilie’s treat. “He may be giving me the cold shoulder and I’m not sure why. I miss him.”

  “Why don’t you call him?” Emilie answered distracted, as she leafed through a magazine.

  “I’ve tried. He hasn’t returned one call. He’ll have to come out of hiding soon because there’s his Nana’s quilt to pick up and the party is next week. He decided to have it at the house after all.”

  “Didn’t he ask you to be his date?”

  Joya shrugged. “Guess he forgot. I don’t understand men.”

  Emilie had planned this girlfriend day out. She’d used her corporate privileges at the Flamingo Beach Spa Resort to get them various services and treatments. So far, they’d had deep-tissue massages and a seaweed wrap. Now they were relaxing and thoroughly enjoying their pedi-cures. Next on the agenda was lunch at the resort’s elegant bistro.

  The attendant at Joya’s feet painted her little toe a summery pink.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “I like it. Makes me feel young again.”

  Emilie who’d settled on a fire-engine-red polish was being led to an area to dry her toes. Joya soon joined her. They sipped on cups of tea and the conversation resumed.

  “So what do you think is really going on with Derek?” Emilie asked.

  Joya snorted. “Maybe he started dating someone and didn’t know how to tell me.”

  “And that’s the kind of man you want to be with? The type who isn’t brave enough or classy enough to let you know when a relationship is over with?” Emilie added sarcastically.

  “But we weren’t really dating.”

  “You were spending a lot of time together and that constitutes a relationship to me.”

  “I guess he thought differently.”

  “Well he can’t avoid you forever, not in a town this size. Why don’t you show up somewhere where you know he’s going to be and try talking to him?”

  “Confront him?” What an outrageous idea. She’d never been one of those women. “Can you imagine me walking onto the site and insisting he speak with me?”

  “Why not? He’s working on those new waterfront villas right here on the property. You could say that you’d been calling to speak to him about the quilt, and since he hasn’t returned your calls you came to find him in person.”

  “It’s too much energy to put out. I’ll have to think about it.”

  “I’m hungry,” Emilie said, setting down the cup of herbal tea the attendant had given her. “How about you?”

  “Starving.”

  “We’ll give it another five minutes with these toes and then off to lunch we go.”

  Derek had agreed to meet Rowan James for lunch at Beachcombers, the resort’s bistro. The two men had hit it off at Chere and Quen’s wedding. Somehow, the developer had found out about Derek’s advanced degrees in engineering and architecture and he’d proposed they talk.

  Derek wasn’t sure exactly what talk meant, but he sure was going to keep all of his options open. He had some serious decisions to make in the next few weeks. He’d called his old company and was assured they wanted him back tomorrow. The package they were offering was almost impossible to refuse.

  Curious as to why Rowan wanted to meet, Derek had left the construction site and taken the time to clean up, even using the resort bathroom to change clothes and swap his dusty boots for a pair of loafers.

  Refusing to think about Joya, he’d buried himself in work this last week, putting in long hours. He’d brought in help to finish up Nana Belle’s house, but he’d also ended up working alongside the guys. All in all, it had paid off, the project was finally near completion and the house would be done in time for the party.

  And a good thing, too, the centennial celebrations were right round the corner and everyone was fixing up their places. Traffic had picked up and there was congestion everywhere you turned. Derek had never seen so many signs for grand openings in his life. Any establishment that could slap on a coat of paint was having a grand opening and inviting people to come in to browse and have tropical drinks.

  “Can I seat you, sir?” the hostess at the entrance asked as Derek continued to pace.

  “I’m waiting for someone.”

  “Perhaps your party is already seated,” she said. “Give me their name.”

  Derek did so and she consulted a computer.

  “Yes, Mr. James is already here. Shall I take you to him?”

  He followed the slender young woman to the table where Rowan was seated.

  “Hey, guy,” Rowan said, rising and meeting him halfway. They pumped hands and Derek took the seat Rowan waved him into.

  Rowan’s finger was in the air summoning the waiter. “What are you drinking?” he asked.

  “Water. I have to get back to work.”

  “Two bottled waters then and menus.”

  The waiter scurried off to get their order and Rowan chewed on a breadstick thoughtfully. “You’re probably wondering why I invited you to lunch.”

  “The thought did cross my mind.”

  “It’s like this,” Rowan said starting in. “I am considered a developer with deep pockets but I’m still an outsider. And I’m from up north, which makes me even more suspicious. You’re the local boy made good. You got out, got degrees, did the corporate thing, and came back to work with your hands. These people trust you and you understand them.”

  “Yes…and?”

  “You’re good partnership material.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  The waiter handed them menus and water. “I’ll give you gentlemen a few minutes,” he said, leaving them again.

  “Give us ten.” When he was out of earshot, Rowan continued. “Land developers travel, which means we aren’t always there to keep an eye on things. Plus, and this is strictly confidential now, we usually don’t know Jack about construction, which means we often get taken. You’re the kind of guy who can straddle the fence, going from T-shirt to suit, plus, you know the people and understand their mentality.”

  Derek was getting it quick. Even so, his loyalty kicked in. “I work for Shore Construction,” he reminded Rowan. “Preston Shore gave me a chance when most wouldn’t. No one thought I wanted to get my hands dirty.”

  The developer dismissed his comment with another wave of his hand. “Preston’s a decent guy and a businessman. If the shoe were on the other foot—well…anyway a big birdie told me you’re on board to learn the business from the ground up. You’re ambitious and looking to start up your own construction company. True?”

  “True.”

  “Then you must know start-ups cost money. You’ll need funding, plus it takes time to build a business. What I’m proposing wouldn’t cost you a dime out of pocket. And the salary I’m willing to pay is more than you could ever make hauling cement.”

  Rowan named a figure.

  Derek whistled. The whole package would be difficult to turn down. His head was spinning.

  Rowan let loose with a long
low whistle of his own. “It’s our lucky day. Look who just walked in. Emilie Woodward gets my engines revving and her friend, the one you were with at the wedding, is pretty damn hot.”

  With an anticipatory flutter in the pit of his stomach, Derek gazed in the direction Rowan was staring. He had been dreading the moment when he had to face Joya and had been lying low. He’d needed space and time to get over his hurt feelings. And he still couldn’t understand why she kept calling. Her grandmother’s place was done.

  “Let’s table the discussion for now. Think over everything I’ve said.” Rowan stood up. “I’m going to ask the ladies to join us.”

  Rowan was off in the direction of the women.

  This was going to be awkward. But at least there would be other people around. Minutes later Rowan returned, making a face. “They turned me down flat. This is a girlfriends’ outing, like I’m supposed to know what that means. I guess they’d rather eat with each other than dine with us. I would have picked up the tab.” His laughter was hollow. He didn’t like being rejected.

  Someone was looking out for him. Oh no, Emilie Woodward was coming over.

  “We’ll join you for coffee and dessert,” she said breezily.

  “We’ll look forward to it,” Rowan said, rallying. He beamed as she walked away as though she’d just handed him a million dollars. “Guess I still have it. Unless it’s you she likes.”

  Their waiter was back. Derek stabbed a finger at the menu. His appetite had returned. “Burger and fries. I’m not going to be able to stay for dessert.”

  “What?”

  “I need to get back to work.”

  “Okay, since you and Joya are dating you get to see her any time, I guess.”

  “We’re not dating,” Derek said stiffly.

  “Could have fooled me.”

  But Derek’s eyes kept darting over to the area where the ladies lunched. Joya, dressed in a short skirt and cute little halter top, was making him hungry, and not just for lunch.

  He managed to wolf down his meal when it was brought to him, then quickly shot out of his chair.

  “Thanks, Rowan, I’ll be in touch and let you know one way or the other.”

  The men shook hands and Rowan handed him his business card again. “Let me know something definitive by next week,” Rowan added. “I need to finalize travel plans.”

  “You’ll have an answer in a few days.”

  Derek made it to the entrance before he heard heels tip-tapping behind him.

  “Derek, can you wait up for a moment?” Joya called.

  He couldn’t continue walking, that would be just too rude.

  “Oh, hi Joya.”

  She stood directly in his path, scanning his face. “Is there something wrong between us?”

  “Why do you say that?

  “I haven’t seen you in some time. You haven’t returned my calls. It made me wonder.”

  “I’m just busy. You know how it is.” He felt like a louse.

  She looked at him with those wide gray eyes and he got the feeling she didn’t believe a word he said.

  “Your grandmother’s quilt is ready,” Joya said, quietly. “Let me know what you want to do about it. If you prefer, I can make arrangements for Granny J or someone else to bring it to you.”

  He felt like an even bigger dirt bag. He’d invited her to be his date at Nana’s party and she was providing an easy way out. Maybe instead of letting it fester, he should just tell her what was eating him up.

  “Joya…”

  But she’d already walked away. And although he wanted to stop her, pride got in the way.

  Joya got back to her place to find a message from Dr. Benjamin on the answering machine. He left her a number that she assumed must be his office. Since Granny J had gone in for a check-up earlier that week Joya immediately assumed the worse.

  She took a deep breath before picking up the receiver and punching in the number. Might as well get it over with.

  A receptionist answered and she was put on hold.

  “Dr. Benjamin,” the doctor said in his no-nonsense manner sounding somewhat distracted.

  “It’s Joya Hamill, Granny J’s granddaughter. You asked me to call. Is everything okay with my grandmother?”

  “Oh, Joya. Thanks for calling back. Yes, yes, your grandmother is coming along nicely. My call was more of a personal nature.”

  “Oh!” she waited, wondering if Granny J was up to it again.

  “I thought perhaps if you weren’t busy that you might be interested in accompanying me to the cocktail party at Mayor Rabinowitz’s mansion. It’s the event that kicks off the centennial celebrations. The one where they’re conducting that silent auction for the flamingos around town.”

  “When is it?” Joya asked, carefully.

  “Next Friday.”

  And Saturday was Belle’s party. Dr. Ben had caught her completely off guard and she couldn’t think of a good excuse to turn him down. Besides, he seemed a nice enough man and an invitation to the mayor’s mansion was nothing to sneeze at. She hadn’t heard of him dating anyone local, and he wasn’t married either, which were both good things. Plus, the way it looked, she and Derek were done. Not that they’d been dating. She was as free as a bird.

  “Sure I’d love to attend and thank you for asking.”

  “Good. Good. I’ll call again closer to the date to give you the particulars.”

  Joya thanked him and hung up. She should have been elated. Dr. Kyle Benjamin was more in line with what she thought she wanted, but how come she didn’t feel the least bit excited about the date they’d just set up?

  An annoying voice at the back of her mind gave her the answer. Because what she’d done was fallen in love with Derek Morse.

  And Derek was one hard act to follow.

  Chapter 18

  Granny J was back to form, bustling around the newly refurbished store like her old self when Joya returned from the bank. She was feeling much better now that sawdust wasn’t constantly in the air and paint fumes didn’t make her gag.

  “You do your own dirty work. Don’t hand it off to that child,” Gran said, thrusting at her one of the big yellow shopping bags that Joya had had specially made up to advertise the store. It read: Joya’s Quilts—Providing Coverage for Another Hundred Years.

  Inside was Nana Belle’s commemorative quilt. Joya had asked Portia to deliver it to the Flamingo Beach Resort and Spa where Derek was working, and it was still sitting here.

  “That quilt needs to get to Derek before tomorrow. He’s going to want to examine it and probably gift-wrap it before his great-grandmother’s party,” Joya reminded Gran.

  “In that case, you pick up the phone and call him to come by and get it.”

  Joya made a wry face. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t think he wants to see me.”

  “Enough of this childish behavior,” Granny J said. “The two of you are acting like two lovestruck teenagers.”

  “Hardly lovestruck.”

  “Then act like adults, face up to your problems and talk things out. You are planning on showing up at his great-grandmother’s party with me tomorrow?”

  Joya huffed out a breath. “I’m still thinking about it. Going out two nights in a row might just wear me out.”

  “That’s right, you have a date with Dr. Benjamin.”

  “We’re going to the mayor’s cocktail party this evening.”

  “What are you wearing?”

  Joya shrugged. She hadn’t given much thought to any of it and although she wanted to feel excited she just couldn’t. The party was a big deal: anyone who was anybody had been invited. It was the kickoff to an entire month of celebration. Since it wasn’t every day that a town turned one hundred years old they were breaking out all the stops. There were tall ships in the harbor and every vendor was selling some kind of souvenir.

  “Gran,” Joya said changing the subject, “There’s something I’ve been me
aning to talk to you about.”

  “Sounds serious,” Granny J said, taking a seat on one of the newly upholstered couches.

  “When you were in the hospital and I had to do the banking I found out you took out an equity loan. Why?”

  “The store was all paid for. Why not?”

  “Why did you need the money, Gran?”

  The old lady pursed her lips and studied her knuckles, then she reluctantly said, “The store wasn’t making a profit. It cost money to keep it open and pay salaries and I was determined not to go bankrupt. This store has been in our family for years.”

  “I understand, hon. Since the store’s doing better now you should be able to pay down that loan. What’s that smell?” Joya sniffed the air.

  “Smells like something’s on fire.”

  The conversation was tabled as both women raced toward the back room, Joya leading the way.

  “Call the fire department,” Joya shouted, spotting the smoke seeping through a closed door. “The supply room is on fire.”

  In the distance, sirens could be heard. A glance out the window indicated a small crowd had already gathered on the sidewalk.

  Harley Mancini came charging in. “Chet spotted the smoke. We didn’t bother calling you figuring what could you do about it? The fire department is on its way. You need to get out.”

  He grabbed both women by the elbows and began moving them toward the door. He was dragging them down the walkway when the fire truck pulled up and the firefighters, dragging hoses, leapt out.

  All Joya could think about was the mess that would have to be cleaned up in the newly renovated store. The firefighters were bound to track in dirt on their boots and leave smudgy fingerprints on the walls, not to mention the water damage. But it was better than having the place burn down.

  In minutes, the fire, which was said to have been caused by a cigarette, was put out. Neither she nor Granny J smoked.

  “Arson,” Chet insisted, confronting one of the firefighters. “You need to check that angle out. The fire had to have been set deliberately.”