by Linda Wisdom
“Don’t worry, I won’t start screaming or anything,” Ginna said. “I couldn’t sleep last night, so I turned on the TV. Big mistake. I think every disaster movie ever made was on. I channel-surfed from crashed planes to earthquakes to tornadoes to sinking ships. You watch enough of those and anyone with normal intelligence would be afraid to leave the house.”
“I guess that could get a person thinking,” Zach admitted, silently amused by her candor. A logical man to the core, he couldn’t imagine that watching a few disaster movies would keep him off a plane.
Ginna leaned over. “If I’d seen one more movie showing a plane crash, I wouldn’t be here,” she confided in a low voice. “I’m not a good flyer. When my mother was six months pregnant with me, she was on a plane that developed engine trouble and could have crashed. Which is why I usually spend my vacations at places you can drive to.”
“That could limit your options,” Zach commented.
Ginna shrugged. “I live in Newport Beach a short drive from the beach, a little over an hour’s drive from the mountains, maybe a couple of hours from the desert. I think I have most of the bases covered if I want to get to one of those places. Anything else, I plan for a longer drive.”
“Yet you’re flying five hours to a Pacific island.”
“I got a great deal from a client who’s a travel agent,” she said, then went on to clarify, “I’m a hairdresser.”
“Funny, I got a great deal from my sister, who happens to be a travel agent,” Zach said dryly.
Ginna raised her plastic glass of diet soda. “To travel agents who know where the deals are.”
Zach tapped his glass against hers. “The plastic clink isn’t as satisfying as crystal goblets, but we know the sentiment is there,” he said.
She nodded. “Exactly. The thought is there. So what do you do, Zach?”
“I write a magazine column,” he replied, figuring it was close enough to the truth.
“Really? Let me guess. A travel column. How to fly and arrive in one piece.”
“Are you sure you don’t write fiction in between haircuts?” he joked, relieved she’d answered her own question.
She shrugged. “I’ve been told I have an overactive imagination, but I can’t even write a decent letter. I guess when someone says they write a magazine column, I tend to automatically think of the wilder side of the business. Someone who’s free and easy, able to pick up and go when they please. And you seem to be a good flier.”
“I was in Florida not all that long ago.” He figured that was the truth without adding that his trip involved Disney World from a four-year-old’s point of view.
“My parents took us there years ago. Did the Disney World thing. They had just as much fun as we did.”
“We?”
She nodded. “I have three brothers and one sister. Keeping tabs on all of us wasn’t easy. Mom once said if she could have, she would have hooked transponders on us so she’d know where we were at all times. Dad said if they lost one of us, it would just be one less mouth to feed. We figured he meant it.”
“Close-knit family, then?”
“We’re all pretty close in age and I guess we’d qualify as a gang. Makes family gatherings interesting,” she said candidly.
“I just have the one sister,” he said. “There’re times when I feel as if she’s three people in one.”
As the flight progressed, Zach found himself enjoying this time with Ginna. He couldn’t remember meeting such an open and honest person. The last lovely woman he’d talked to was the kids’ pediatrician. He was relieved he could carry on a conversation with a woman without discussing eating habits and how best to handle a child’s fears at night.
They made jokes about the airplane food served to them and discussed movies, books and even touched on current events. Zach was definitely enjoying himself.
So why is she looking at me the way a surgeon looks at a critically ill patient?
THIS IS EXACTLY what I need. Time away from work and the attention of an attractive man.
Ginna gave a start when she was positive the plane lurched in a way it shouldn’t have. She relaxed when the pilot’s voice came on and announced they would be landing soon. She was looking forward to planting her feet on solid ground again.
At the same time, she was reluctant to leave this small space with Zach.
She breathed another sigh of relief when the jet’s wheels touched ground with barely a bump. They soon stood up and slowly filed down the aisle.
The moment they stepped onto the jetway she could feel the difference in the air and atmosphere. Zach walked by her side as they headed for the luggage carousel. He took her carry-on bag for her.
“I understand the hotel has a shuttle bus,” he said, after learning they were staying at the same hotel.
“That’s what I was told also,” she replied.
“Why don’t you call the hotel and request the shuttle to pick us up? I can watch out for the luggage if you tell me what yours looks like,” he suggested.
“My nieces offered to let me use their Barbie suitcases, but I explained I needed something a lot larger.” She laughed. “It’s a large teal soft side with a hot-pink band around it.”
“I’m sure that will stand out.”
Ginna found the phone and board listing the hotels. She made the call and was assured a van would pick them up in about forty minutes. When she returned to the luggage carousel, she found her suitcase at Zach’s feet. He was occupied grabbing a black suitcase from the carousel and setting it down by his side. He looked up when she reached him.
“They’ll be here in about forty minutes,” she told him. “They pick up by the hotel shuttle sign, which is right outside.”
Luckily the shuttle bus was prompt in picking them up and transporting them to the hotel.
“This is just what I needed,” Ginna breathed, looking around the lobby with avid interest.
She was smiling and bubbly during check-in procedures. In no time, she was given her room information.
Ginna turned away to follow the bellman when Zach touched her shoulder and spoke her name.
“Have dinner with me tonight,” he coaxed.
She tipped her head to one side as if considering his invitation.
“Nothing in small trays or plastic cups? I can have a drink with an umbrella in it?” she quipped.
“Anything you want,” he said, meaning it.
“I’ll meet you down here at seven,” she replied with a smile that seemed to shoot right through his heart. She turned away again and followed the bellman.
When Zach turned back to the desk, the clerk looked at him with something akin to awe.
“Have a nice stay, Mr. Stone,” he finally said as he handed the key card to the bellman.
He smiled. “I’m sure I will.”
The minute Zach was alone in his room, he pulled out his cell phone and tapped out a familiar number.
“Donner residence. Come on over and we’ll eat you for dinner!” a voice blasted.
Zach groaned. “Not funny, Nick. Where’s your mom?”
“She’s cooking dinner.” The boy laughed uproariously.
“Let me talk to her.”
“Honestly, Nick, you know your uncle doesn’t have a sense of humor,” he heard his sister saying in the background. Then she was on the phone. “Hey there, big brother. Is it as gorgeous there as they say?”
He walked over to the sliding glass door and pushed it open. The sound of waves crashing on sand and rocks was the first thing he heard.
“More so. How’re the kids?”
“What? You think I locked them in a closet the second you were gone?” She chuckled. “They’re fine. Emma’s helping me make a salad and Trey’s feeding Luther.” Luther was the twenty-five-pound family cat that Zach estimated was older than dirt.
“Just make sure it’s not the other way around.” Zach was all too familiar with the cat’s insatiable appetite.
“Z
ach! Listen to what you’re saying. You need to relax. Now I know this vacation is the best thing for you.”
“Luce, I can’t just forget I’m a father,” he protested.
“Of course you can’t.” She lowered her voice. “But there’re times when you need to remember you’re also a man. This is your chance, for a short time, to forget you’re Emma and Trey’s dad. Just be Zach Stone, freewheeling single guy. Spend time on the beach, get a boogie board and ride the waves. And if you meet someone in the process, even better.”
“You know what? I never want to know about any of the times you take off for one of your recharging weekends,” he told her.
“I go to a spa,” she said with a virtuous sniff.
“Yeah, that’s what you tell me, but now I wonder if that’s really what you do.” He shifted the phone against his ear. “Can I talk to the kids?”
“Emma! Trey! It’s your dad!” she called out.
“Daddy!” Zach flinched as his daughter’s excited squeal assaulted his eardrum. “Aunt Lucie’s lettin’ me cook. But not on the stove,” she assured him as if she knew his instinctive response to that announcement. “I get to tear up lettuce for our salad. Don’t worry, Aunt Lucie made me wash my hands first.”
“That’s great, sweetheart.” He found himself having to force the enthusiasm. He should be happy she wasn’t pining away for the major man in her life. That she was enjoying herself. He talked to her a few more minutes before Trey had his turn.
“Luther makes really gross smells,” he informed his dad, then went on to describe Nick’s latest escapade.
“Okay, enough,” Lucie interjected, obviously snatching up the phone. “All that happened was that Nick picked up the wrong can of cat food at the grocery store.”
“So they’re doing fine,” Zach said, sounding almost morose.
“Yes, they’re doing fine. You know what you need to do? Shower off the trip, go downstairs and find a beautiful woman to take to dinner.”
Zach opened his mouth with the intention of telling her he was going to do just that, but stopped himself. He knew his sister well enough to know that if he confided in her about Ginna, she’d insist on all the details.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said. “Luce?” He paused. “Thanks.”
“Anytime, big brother. After all, you’ve always been there for me,” she said softly. “I couldn’t have gotten through it all if it hadn’t been for you.” Her tone suddenly turned brisk. “So get out there and relive those wild times of your youth. And don’t worry about the twins!” She hung up before he could say another word.
“Goodbye to you, too,” he murmured, grinning.
Zach unpacked his clothing, put away his shaving gear and decided he had enough time for a quick swim before he needed to get ready for his dinner date with Ginna.
GINNA DIDN’T WASTE any time unpacking and hanging up her clothing. She made a trip to the vending machine and ice machine and fixed herself a glass of diet soda. With that in one hand and her cell phone and address book in the other, she walked out onto the balcony. She dropped onto one of the chairs and looked out over the ocean.
For several moments, she was content just to sit there and enjoy the serene setting.
“Oh, yes,” she murmured. “Denny, this is the absolute best thing you ever did for me, you scum-sucking bottom feeder.”
She switched on the phone and tapped out a series of numbers.
“Hello?” A woman’s voice answered.
“Hey there, travel agent to the rich and famous,” Ginna said cheerfully.
“I wish!” The woman chuckled. “So how’s it going? Did I do good?”
“You did better than good,” Ginna replied. “You are talking to one very satisfied client, and all I’ve seen so far is the lobby and my room. I braced myself for what I thought would be a flight from hell and, instead, met this great guy who took my mind off my fears. Let me tell you he was better than any over-the-counter medication. And he’s invited me out to dinner tonight. Luce, you are a miracle worker.”
Lucie Donner laughed along with her. She didn’t need to be psychic to know her plan had worked. Both her brother and her friend sounded happy, which meant their meeting had gone well. Now she could only pray the rest of their vacation would be just as rewarding.
“What can I say, Gin? For the past five years, you’ve kept my hair looking great. When you were awarded that money from your lawsuit, you told me you decided it was time to do something for yourself. You wanted an out-of-this-world vacation—I figured the least I could do was make sure you got one.”
Chapter Two
Zach was convinced he’d died and gone to heaven.
He had come downstairs ten minutes early. He spent some time in the gift shop, looking at bright-colored T-shirts and beach towels.
It was a man murmuring “Now that’s what I call a woman” that first caught his attention.
He turned around in the direction of the elevators. He instinctively knew the man was talking about Ginna.
Nick would have called her a hottie. For once Zach wouldn’t have disagreed.
Ginna had dressed for the warm climate in a silky cobalt-blue handkerchief halter top and a blue tropical-print ankle-length skirt. The high-heeled sandals she wore put her almost eye level with him. An exotic-looking white flower was tucked behind her right ear while her hair tumbled down her back in loose curls. Even with the sexy picture presented to him, all he could see was the intense blue of her eyes.
“When I look at your eyes, I feel as if I’m looking into the ocean,” he murmured, walking up to her.
Her smile warmed considerably. “Why suh, I do declare you are flattering lil ol’ me unduly,” she said in a syrupy Southern drawl.
“Sorry, sweetheart, Scarlett O’Hara, you ain’t.” He grinned.
“Damn Yankee,” she said, deadpan.
“Wasn’t that a baseball movie?” Zach took her arm and tucked it under his.
“Flatterer and quick on the uptake,” she said with a smile filled with approval. “I like that. Just don’t think your charming and witty answer will get you out of my drink with an umbrella in it. I intend to order the fanciest drink they offer.”
He inhaled the scent that drifted off her skin and at the same time noticed the shimmering glow on her bare shoulders.
As the hostess led them to a table on the lanai that overlooked the beach, he thought about the evening ahead. He didn’t need a psychic to tell him this was going to be an evening he’d remember for a long time.
Ginna didn’t disappoint him. She was warm and friendly to their waitress, discussed a variety of drinks and finally settled on one called Tropical Sunset. She was delighted that the drink not only sported an umbrella but a pineapple spear.
“There is nothing like the Hawaiian Islands,” she confided as she nibbled on the pineapple. “The minute you step off the plane you instantly relax. You want to put on your bikini, slather on some sunscreen and just lie on the beach.”
“I think I’d go for something that covers a little more than a bikini,” Zach said. “I’m the modest type.”
Ginna grinned. “Come on, Zach, tell me more about you. Likes and dislikes in foods, what you like to do on the weekends, any pets, where you go for haircuts.” Her bright eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Hate broccoli and cauliflower, like squash and green beans. Like to go hiking in the mountains when I can.” He doubted running after the kids at the local playground qualified as a weekend activity. “No pets. A very nice guy named Rupert cuts my hair every four weeks.” He grew suspicious at the look on her face. “What’s wrong with my hair?”
“Hate corn and lima beans, like green beans also, and carrots. I have Casper, a white German shepherd, who enjoys long runs on the weekend,” she replied. “One of my friends cuts my hair, and yours could use a good conditioner and some shaping. Sorry, occupational hazard. Rupert gives you a decent cut, but I can give you a better one.”
&n
bsp; Why did he feel as if she’d just suggested something a lot more intimate?
He was ready to give her an enthusiastic yes, but managed to remain silent.
She leaned forward. “Am I unnerving you, Zach? For a minute there, you looked panicked.”
“I think it’s more panicking that I won’t remember how to relax,” he said. “You seem to have it down to a fine art.”
“I work very hard. I realize some people think that hairdressers are flaky individuals who don’t understand what work is. Trust me—” she lowered her voice “—it’s not easy standing there listening to a woman explain just how she wants to look, while deep down you know no matter what you do, there’s no way you can make her look like Heather Locklear. Explaining to her what will work better for her is diplomacy to the nth degree. But I love it. I love seeing women brighten up when they leave the salon. I love knowing that my efforts help them feel beautiful.”
“An artist,” he murmured, finding himself just enjoying the sound of her voice.
“Artist?” She looked delighted with his description. “I can’t draw a straight line with a ruler. I was the only child in my school’s history to flunk fingerpainting. Although, unlike my brothers, I didn’t stick the paintbrush in my mouth. Mark, my older brother, had a purple tongue for a month.” She stopped speaking and wrinkled her nose. “I’m talking too much, aren’t I? It’s a problem I have. Probably comes from growing up in a large family. If you don’t speak up, you don’t get heard.”
As their dinner was placed in front of them, Ginna dug enthusiastically into her mahi mahi.
“No, I like your candor,” he told her. “I have to admit I haven’t been out with a woman in a while, but I don’t remember enjoying a conversation so much.”
“What do you usually talk about with women?”
Whether Emma should take dance classes or tae kwon do with her brother. The subject of my next column on single fathers. Listening to a woman stockbroker tell me what I need in my portfolio.
“Stocks, bonds, whether I have enough life insurance,” he admitted. “I know it’s not manly—” he twitched his fingers to indicate quotes “—to admit I haven’t dated much, but I was never much for intimating I’m a party animal when I’m not.”
