Ask Anyone

by Sherryl Woods

  “Betrayed you?” Jenna’s voice climbed. “How typical of you to think of it like that!” She didn’t even try to hide her fury or her hurt. “I can’t discuss this with you now.”

  “Well, you’d better,” he snapped. “I cannot and will not tolerate you going behind my back and getting involved in things you know nothing about.”

  “Oh, you’d be surprised by how much I know,” she said, reining in her temper. “That’s the problem. I may have given you reasons to doubt my judgment years ago, but you have never once, not in all these years, forgotten that and seen the woman I’ve become. If it weren’t so painful, it would be just plain sad.”

  With that, she quietly replaced the receiver on the phone’s base. When it promptly rang again, she ignored it.

  Only then did she look up and see Darcy regarding her with wide, frightened eyes.

  “Mommy, was that Grandpa?”

  Jenna held out her arms and Darcy ran into them. “Yes, it was, baby.”

  “Is he mad at us?”

  “Only at me.”

  “Why?”

  Jenna had tried never to say anything bad about the two most important men in Darcy’s life—her grandfather or Nick—but the temptation to do so now was overwhelming. She struggled to fight it.

  “Sometimes people make mistakes,” she explained carefully. “And the people who love them can’t forget about it. Whenever anything goes wrong, they drag out all that past history again.”

  Darcy looked puzzled. “Did you make a bad mistake?”

  How could it have been a mistake to marry a man who had given her the gift of this child? Jenna couldn’t think of her marriage to Nick as anything other than a sad interlude that had left her with a child she treasured more than life itself.

  “No, baby. It was the best thing I ever did, because it brought you into my life.”

  Darcy scrambled into her lap, for once oblivious to her conviction that she was too old for such a show of affection. “I love you, Mommy.”

  Jenna rocked back and forth holding her daughter. “And I love you, more than anything in the world,” she whispered, tensing when the phone rang yet again. She scowled at the offending instrument. “Not now, Dad. Not now.”

  Darcy gazed at her with pleading eyes. “Mommy, let me answer it. I’ll talk to Grandpa and tell him not to be mad at you anymore. Please.”

  Jenna nodded.

  But as soon as Darcy answered, the smile that split her face was way too broad for Jenna’s father to be on the other end of the line.

  “I thought you’d forgot us,” Darcy said. “Want to talk to Mommy?”

  She held out the phone.

  “Is it your father?” Jenna asked cautiously.

  Darcy shook her head.

  “Grandpa?”

  “No, it’s Bobby.”

  Well, wasn’t that fascinating, Jenna thought, as her pulse skipped a beat. She should refuse to talk to him, but she’d been waiting too darned long for some sign that he might deign to meet with her.

  “Hello,” she said, her tone cool.

  “Daisy says your drawings are wonderful,” he said, his voice just as cool. “Can you bring them by?”

  As badly as she wanted to, she would not play coy about this. There was too much riding on it. Besides, there was no room for emotions in what was essentially a business situation. Never mind that his treatment of her lately had felt a whole lot more like a very personal rejection.

  “When?” she asked.

  “How about now?”

  “Give me thirty minutes,” she said, trying to keep the elation out of her voice. “I’ll have to bring Darcy along, and she wants to stop by the bookstore and get something to read. I think I can persuade her to choose quickly, since she finally finished her required summer reading and gets to pick whatever she wants.”

  “Of course,” he said. “I’ll fix you both a banana split and have ’em ready by the time you get here. Think that will help to make up for me behaving like a horse’s behind the last couple of weeks?”

  Jenna chuckled. “It’ll work on Darcy, that’s for sure.”

  “And you?”

  “I could be a tougher sell.”

  “Name your price.”

  He said it with a quiet intensity that startled Jenna. “A contract for the boardwalk project,” she said without hesitation.

  “You drive a hard bargain,” he said, but there was a hint of admiration in his tone.

  “Tell that to my father,” Jenna said wryly.

  “You never know. Maybe one of these days I will. See you soon.”

  Jenna slowly hung up the phone, then picked it up again and dialed Daisy’s number.

  “Thank you,” she said when Bobby’s sister answered.

  “For?”

  “Talking to Bobby. He’s seeing me in a few minutes.”

  “That’s fabulous. And don’t forget, you’ll be seeing him again on Sunday,” Daisy stressed. “You and Darcy are having Sunday dinner with the family.”

  “Let’s just see how today goes,” Jenna said. She knew what was behind the invitation to Cedar Hill. It was more of Daisy and King’s scheming to make something more out of her relationship with Bobby.

  “Oh, I have every confidence that it’s going to go well today,” Daisy told her.

  “What did you do, threaten him?” Jenna asked, only partially teasing.

  “Didn’t have to. The drawings will get his attention, Jenna. They’re good.”

  “You have no idea how much I needed to hear you say that one more time before I go off to face him, especially today.”

  “Why? What happened?” Daisy asked, instantly concerned.

  “We’ll get into it another time,” Jenna promised. It would take way too long to explain her strained relationship with her father to Daisy. Jenna had a feeling that Daisy—oddly, for someone she’d known only a few weeks—had already figured out much of it on her own. “I promised Darcy we’d go by the bookstore on the way. She’s fallen in love with the place.”

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” Daisy enthused. “Gail Thorensen just opened it a few months ago. She’s married to Walker’s old boss from D.C. It took more time than she’d expected, but she managed to turn an old house into a charming treasure trove of great books and nooks and crannies for browsing. I highly recommend the mystery section.”

  “I don’t have time for browsing today,” Jenna said. “I have a meeting with Bobby in a half hour. I can’t be late.”

  As soon as the words left her mouth, Jenna laughed. “Imagine that. I actually have an important business meeting.”

  “I predict it’s the first of many,” Daisy said.

  With Daisy’s confident words ringing in her ears, Jenna set off to prove that her father was completely wrong about her. She was not going to screw up this deal. For once in her life she was going to accomplish the impossible.

  Then she was going to return to Baltimore in triumph and make her father and her brothers dine on crow for months to come.

  12

  Bobby waited for precisely thirty minutes, then went to work in the kitchen. He put three scoops of ice cream—chocolate, strawberry and vanilla—into the banana splits, then ladled hot fudge sauce over the top. He was just adding a huge dollop of whipped cream when Jenna and Darcy finally strolled in nearly fifteen minutes late. He got a strange feeling in his chest at the sight of them. Probably indigestion, he decided hopefully.

  Darcy was toting a heavy bag of books, which explained their tardiness. Obviously she’d finagled a larger selection than the one book her mother had promised her. Already looking more cheerful than she had in days, she regarded the ice cream with wide-eyed appreciation. “Is that for me?” she asked.

  Bobby grinned. “It is if you’re sure you can eat it all,” he said.

  “I can eat lots and lots of ice cream,” Darcy assured him, already reaching for the old-fashioned bowl. “Who’s the other one for?”

  “Your mom.” He met J
enna’s cool gaze. “Unless, of course, she decides to share it with me.”

  To his surprise Jenna’s reserve disappeared. She grinned at him. His own resolve to keep his relationship with her strictly professional vanished in a heated burst of pure lust.

  “Not a chance. Get your own,” she said. “Besides, you have work to do.”

  She handed him a large sketch pad. “If you insist on eating ice cream while you look at these, don’t drip all over them,” she warned with mock severity.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Bobby said dutifully, relieved by the release of tension between them. “Maybe I’ll put my ice cream on hold. Let’s take all of this into the dining room. There’s more space.” And keeping a whole lot of space between him and Jenna right now was a really good idea.

  “Aren’t you opening soon?” she asked.

  “Worried someone else will see these and steal your ideas?” he teased.

  “No. I’m worried that you won’t give them your full attention,” she said.

  “Not a problem. We won’t open for another hour. I’ll be finished by then.” He caught the look of dismay on Jenna’s face and guessed the cause. “I’m going to give these thorough consideration, Jenna. I promise. But I will warn you that I won’t make a snap decision. You’re not going to have my answer when you walk out of here today. There’s too much at stake.”

  There was no mistaking her disappointment, but she managed to nod. “Fair enough.”

  Bobby guided Jenna and Darcy to one table, then moved to another one nearby and opened the sketch pad. While it was true that Jenna was neither an expert artist nor an architect, she had captured the feel of the setting. He could see that on the very first page, where she’d used discreet splashes of watercolor to give the drawing a vibrancy that made him want to rush to hang it on the wall where everyone entering the restaurant could see it. She had managed with a few brushstrokes to convey the quaintness and allure of Trinity Harbor.

  Captivated by that first overview, he was reluctant to move on to the others. What if they disappointed? It was one thing for Daisy to claim the sketches were all wonderful, but quite another to make the financial commitment that would bring the ideas to reality. Besides, a pretty picture didn’t necessarily translate into a concrete, profitable plan for developing some very expensive real estate.

  He felt Jenna’s worried gaze on him and shot a reassuring smile at her.

  “You’re not turning pages,” she said quietly. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. This first one is very right.”

  A slow smile lit up her face and made Bobby’s heart lurch unsteadily. Her genuine delight was almost painful to see. Given what he and Daisy both suspected about her uneasy relationship with her father, he understood just how much was riding on whatever he decided. That scared him.

  What if the rest of the sketches, which really detailed her ideas, were wildly off the mark? How would he bring himself to tell her? He wanted to plead with her not to get her hopes up, but that would be like snatching something away before it had even been offered. Besides, what was wrong with clinging to hope? It had been a long time since he’d felt that rare emotion. Too long, in fact. And the woman sitting at the next table was responsible for bringing it back into his life. He owed her for that, if nothing else.

  With careful deliberation, he turned the page and felt a surprising burst of pure delight. There in a grove of trees, with the water glistening in the background, was a magnificent carousel. Given how all this had started, he shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. The carousel looked as if it had been made for the setting back in the early 1900s.

  Even with her inexpert hand, Jenna had managed to create an image that captivated. Bobby could almost hear the music of the pipe organ, the carefree sound of children laughing, the breeze in the trees, the splash of the Potomac lapping against the shore. The carousel was perfect. A roller coaster, even a Ferris wheel, would have been too out-of-scale for the location, but this was charming and right.

  Bobby’s gaze shot to Jenna. How had she known that when he’d dreamed of this project, this was exactly what he’d seen? Exactly. She looked up from her ice cream just then, a dab of hot fudge at the corner of her mouth, and his body went hard. Never in his entire life had he wanted a woman the way he wanted Jenna in that instant. Never had he felt so totally in sync with another human being. It wasn’t only the erotic sight of chocolate just waiting to be licked clean or the parting of her lush lips. It was the quick flash of vulnerability in her eyes, a tentativeness she quickly hid behind a brave smile. He understood vulnerabilities like that because he had lived for years with the uneasiness that by not caving in to his father’s expectations for him, he would lose King’s respect, perhaps even his love.

  “Well?” she said, her tone filled with false bravado. “Still on target?”

  “Still very much on target,” he commended her, then forced his gaze back to the page. Once again, the image grabbed him, moved him.

  But a fancy antique merry-go-round wasn’t an entire boardwalk project, he cautioned himself. It might be charming and quaint, but it wasn’t going to translate into huge income or tax dollars for the town.

  The next page demonstrated Jenna’s grasp of that. There was a gazebo with picnic tables, also in a grove of trees, and just beyond that were the beginnings of a row of shops with Victorian gingerbread trim.

  He turned to the next sketch without hesitation and found that she had included everything from walk-up windows offering ice cream and flavored snow cones to crab cake sandwiches, corn dogs and French fries. Moving along the boardwalk, there were shops selling souvenirs, resort wear, gifts and even a small bed and breakfast hotel with rocking chairs out front. Taking into account the potential for flooding, the entire row of buildings was built several feet higher than flood stage. A porch that stretched across the entire expanse of buildings with appropriate ramps and steps and flowerpots was both decorative and functional. Midway there was a full-scale restaurant with dining on a deck facing the river.

  At the far end, closest to the town pier, was one last building, its Victorian facade in keeping with the others. Above the windows, which were open to the breezes, was a sign indicating it was a bingo hall.

  He glanced at her sharply. “Bingo?”

  She nodded and moved to stand at his shoulder. He could smell the faint scent of her perfume, something vaguely familiar. Lily of the valley, he realized, a scent his mother had worn.

  “I checked the papers, and there are bingo games every single night all over this area,” Jenna told him. “If the various sponsoring charities could be persuaded to use a central location, there would always be bingo on the boardwalk. That, in turn, would guarantee a nightly crowd.”

  Bobby was immediately intrigued by the idea. It reminded him of stories he’d heard about Colonial Beach in its heyday. And Frances would be thrilled. King had been taking her all the way to Colonial Beach to play at the rescue squad games on Tuesdays and back again on Saturdays for games at the fire station. Now he could stay closer to home—assuming the two of them ever worked out their differences.

  “What would be the benefit to the charities?” he asked.

  “More money,” she said at once. “Even people who’ve just come to the boardwalk to take a stroll might be drawn in to play. And for organizations like the volunteer rescue squad and fire department, it would mean not having to move all their equipment to make room for setting up tables and chairs.”

  “They make some of their money selling food,” he pointed out.

  “The building would include a kitchen.”

  He nodded. “Okay, then, what’s my incentive to build something that’s going to give me no return on my investment? Community service?”

  She grinned at that. “No, I wouldn’t want to test your charitable instincts. The way I see it, each group would pay a nominal rent, which would be more than offset by the additional players. Added together, those rents would give you a
steady income.”

  It was workable, Bobby thought. And, again, it fit in with his image of a low-key boardwalk that was family oriented. That’s what he wanted for Trinity Harbor, a pleasant escape at the end of the day, a weekend retreat for families that stressed low-tech fun.

  “Only one thing missing,” he said, gazing up at her.

  “Oh, really?”

  “Miniature golf.”

  “You’re selling me short,” she said at once. “Turn the page.”

  Sure enough, on the next page there was a miniature golf course. “Where would you put it?” he asked.

  “My choice would be at the opposite end from the bingo hall, by the carousel,” she said without hesitation. “That way you’d have big draws at each end, which would encourage people to stroll along the boardwalk to see all the shops in between.”

  Bobby had to fight to temper his enthusiasm. There were other bids to consider, dollars and cents issues to be debated. And, then, there was the prospect of working with someone as totally inexperienced—and totally tempting—as Jenna. That part alone had danger written all over it.

  But his gut was telling him to buy into this whole plan right here, right now. Maybe it took someone with a totally fresh view, someone a little hungry for a deal, to pull off what he wanted for Trinity Harbor.

  He risked a look at Jenna, and there, once again, was that glint of hope brightening her eyes, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth as she waited for his decision as if her life depended on it.

  In the end, that was what made him cautious, what made him remember all the risks of making a commitment too soon. He needed to work slowly, keep his own emotions on an even keel, be sure he wasn’t being persuaded by a desire to bring a smile to this woman’s face.

  “It’s good, Jenna. Really good. You should be proud of yourself,” he said. His heart clenched at the slow smile that spread across her face.

  “Really?” she said with heartbreaking hesitation.

  “Really,” he said emphatically. “But—”