Sweet Starlight

by Kay Correll

  “Thank you, dear. Oh, and did I hear something about you have a new young woman in your life? My assistant said she saw photos of you with someone new.”

  “She’s just a friend. She helped me out with some… details… for the gala.” He wasn’t about to admit to his grandmother anything about the Pavilion Problem.

  “Oh, is she from Indigo Bay? You should invite her to my party.”

  “I don’t know if she’d want to come. She wouldn’t really know anyone.”

  “She’d know you. If she’s a friend of yours, I’d love to meet her. You should invite her over for drinks next week after I get to town. Promise me you’ll do that.”

  He’d never been able to say no to his grandmother. “Okay, I’ll see if she’ll stop by.”

  “Perfect. I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “Bye.” He set his phone back on the table. It seemed like the whole world knew about his date with Whitney last night. The date that wasn’t even a date. It was a thank you.

  Chapter 7

  To heck with being concerned about what he was eating this week. It was going to be stressful enough without adding anything else to worry about. He grabbed his cell phone and headed outside. He was going to reward himself with another one of those fabulous ice cream cones from The Trixie Cone. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was rewarding himself for. He hadn’t gotten through much of his to-do list. He’d mainly browsed the internet looking for all the places photos from last night had turned up and feeling guilty for putting Whitney in the limelight.

  His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket.

  Shawna.

  He couldn’t face talking to her right now. She’d evidently seen the photos, too. He slid the phone back in his pocket, feeling only slightly guilty for ignoring her call.

  He entered the Trixie Cone and the woman behind the counter smiled at him. “Ah, Whitney’s friend. You’re back.”

  “I am.”

  The woman stared at him for a moment. “I usually remember faces. You look familiar. I mean besides being in here with Whitney.”

  Ah, his curse and blessing. Not quite famous enough for everyone to recognize him, but famous enough when some people did. “I probably just have one of those faces,” he answered noncommittally.

  “What can I get you today?”

  “I’ll have a butter pecan cone. Two scoops.”

  Just then the door to the shop opened and Whitney entered. She stopped when she saw him standing there, then a small smile—very small—crossed her face. “Hello, Rick.”

  “Rick. That’s it.” Trixie snapped her fingers. “Rick Nichols, right?”

  Whitney walked up beside him. “Yes, he’s Rick Nichols, but he’s trying to keep it quiet around town, okay?”

  “Sure thing.” Trixie handed him his cone. “What can I get for you, Whitney?”

  “Double chocolate fudge.”

  “You want to sit at one of the tables?” He wasn’t sure if she’d agree to it, but took the chance.

  “I… I guess so.” She didn’t look very certain of her answer.

  They took their ice cream to the far corner table and sat down. He looked at her as she concentrated diligently on her cone, basically ignoring he was sitting right across from her. “So, I take it you found out our photos are everywhere.”

  She looked up at him and sighed. “I did.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Well, of course it is. I’m the reason it happened.”

  She gave him that tiny smile again. “Okay, so it is all your fault.”

  He laughed. “Blame accepted.”

  “I’ve had a constant stream of people coming into the shop today to ask about it. I thought I’d escape to Trixie’s and indulge in chocolate.”

  “Is it working?”

  “It’s starting to.” Her blue eyes twinkled.

  Whitney relaxed a bit and enjoyed her ice cream. She didn’t know why she was letting those silly photos get to her.

  The door to Trixie’s opened again and Vicki Holloway and her daughter, Mia, walked in. Vicki looked over at Whitney and her eyes widened in unmistakable amazement. Whether it was more in seeing Rick or seeing her with Rick, she wasn’t sure. She ducked her head and concentrated on the cone, hoping Victoria would just leave them alone.

  No such luck.

  Vicki and Mia walked up to their table. “Well, Whitney. This is a surprise. Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” Vicki flipped her hair behind her shoulder and showered Rick with a glorious smile.

  “Vicki, Mia, this is Rick. Rick, this is Vicki Holloway—I mean, Tanner—and her daughter, Mia.”

  “Whitney, you know no one calls me Vicki anymore. It’s Victoria.”

  “Sorry, hard habit to break.” She turned to Rick. “I’ve known Victoria since we were kids.”

  Rick smiled at Vicki-Victoria. “Nice to meet you.” He then turned to Mia. “So, Mia. What flavor of ice cream is your favorite?”

  She gave him a bashful smile. “I like Miss Trixie’s homemade vanilla.”

  Victoria let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “I’ve tried everything to get this girl to experiment a bit, but she insists on vanilla every single time.”

  Rick winked at the girl. “You know what? I get butter pecan every single time. It’s my favorite, so I figure why change?”

  Mia grinned at his kind support of her only-one-choice-ever of ice cream.

  Vicki ignored Rick’s comment and the fact he gave her no sympathy for her long-suffering over having a child that only liked one flavor of ice cream. “So, I saw you two were out at that new restaurant in Charleston. We really do have to go over and try it out soon. There just aren’t many good places to eat here in Indigo Bay.” Every word of Vicki’s came out as haughty indictment of the town. She faced Rick while she spoke, ignoring Whitney completely.

  “It was nice. But to be honest, I love Sweet Caroline’s here in town.”

  Whitney wanted to jump up and hug him for coming to the town’s defense. She didn’t know why she let Vicki get to her.

  “Well, if you want simple food, I guess so.” Though Vicki shook her head no as she said it. “Anyway, I heard you’re having a party for your grandmother’s birthday. Too bad it’s the same day as the Ashland Belle Society’s auction at the pavilion here in town. Maybe you’ll have time to stop by, though?”

  “I’ll be pretty busy the day of the party.”

  “That’s a shame. Maybe you’d have something to donate? We’re raising funds for the school.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “You know, while you’re in town, I’d love to have you over for dinner. My cook can do the most exquisite Southern cuisine. Not simple, it’s more Southern with a twist.” Vicki flashed her patented charming belle smile at Rick. “I’d love to show you some real Southern hospitality.”

  She wondered if Vicki could say Southern any more times in a row.

  “Well, thank you for the invite, but I’m afraid I’m going to be very busy. My family is coming to town and I have the party to finish getting set up.”

  Vicki frowned. “Well, that is a shame.”

  She was insanely happy Rick had turned down Vicki’s offer.

  “Can we get our ice cream now?” Mia tugged at her mother’s hand.

  “Mia, how many times have I told you not to interrupt the grownups when they are talking?”

  “Sorry.” Mia looked down at her feet.

  “Well, Whitney and I were just leaving, so I bet it’s time for you to get your ice cream.” Rick smiled at the girl and she looked at him shyly. “It was nice meeting you, Mia. And you, too, Vicki.”

  “Victoria,” Vicki corrected. She took Mia’s hand and led her away.

  “You called her Vicki on purpose.” Whitney smothered a grin.

  He winked. “Yes, yes I did.”

  They escaped into the afternoon sunshine and left Vicki and Mia inside The
Trixie Cone.

  “You certainly have some… interesting… people here in Indigo Bay.” Rick laughed, aware that Vicki had been flirting with him right in front of Whitney, not that Vicki had seemed to care what Whitney thought about that.

  “Vicki has always been her own biggest fan. She decided, sometime after high school, that Victoria was a fancier name. She’ll always be Vicki to me, though.”

  “To me, too.” He laughed again.

  “You were very nice to Mia.”

  “She’s a cute kid.”

  “Poor Mia. She seems to never do anything quite right in her mother’s eyes.”

  Rick could relate to that. He felt a sudden kinship to the young girl, trying to please her mother, never knowing when she was going to misstep.

  “I should head back to the shop,” Whitney interrupted his thoughts.

  “Before you go, I was wondering…” He cocked his head and gathered his courage. “I was wondering if you’d like to go have dinner with me tonight.”

  She stood in front of him, a stunned expression plastered on her face. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I was thinking something a bit less… photographic.” He grinned at her. “Like maybe I could fix you dinner at The Pink Lady. I’m pretty handy with a grill.”

  “You want to cook for me?” Her tone bordered on incredulous.

  “Don’t sound so surprised. I have other talents besides acting.” He looked at her, hoping for some sign that she’d say yes to his invite. “So, how about you say yes? I promise there won’t be all the media attention we had last night. Just a nice, quiet meal.”

  “You don’t have to do that. You’ve already done the thank you dinner thing.” Whitney frowned.

  “I think that dinner was more than you bargained for. Let me do this for you.” He scrambled to come up with more reasons to convince her. “Besides, I don’t really feel like eating alone. You’ll be doing me a favor. How about it?”

  He could see the exact moment he’d convinced her in the depths of her blue eyes. The blue eyes that mesmerized him and made him want to see them light up with her smile.

  An unsure expression still covered her face. “Okay… What time should I come over?”

  “I could pick you up,” he offered.

  “No, I’ll just walk over.”

  “How about seven?”

  “Okay, I’ll see you then.” Whitney turned and walked down the street toward Coastal Creations.

  He grinned to himself and headed off to the market to buy groceries for dinner, whistling a tune under his breath.

  Chapter 8

  “Seriously, Merry. Why did he ask me out again?” Whitney tapped her phone to change it to speaker mode so she could talk to her friend and still get ready.

  “Because he likes you?” Merry’s voice was filled with laughter. “You’re panicking about what to wear again, aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m not,” she lied as she stood in front of her closet at a loss.

  “Wear that cute sundress you got a while ago. That teal one. It has some kind of floral print to it,” Merry commanded her.

  She reached into the closet and pulled out the sundress. “This might work.”

  “I gotta run, but Whit?”

  “What?”

  “No flip-flops.” Merry’s laugh came through the airways before the phone went silent.

  She set the dress on the bed and dug around on the floor of her closet. She found a pair of simple white flats to wear. She got dressed, put on a bit of makeup, and surveyed herself in the mirror. Not bad. Not glamorous like a movie star, but okay for a small-town shop owner.

  She glanced at her watch, then hurried to finish getting ready. She slipped out the door to the cottage with just enough time to walk over to the bay side of town. The closer she got to The Pink Ladies, the more nervous she got. Why had she said yes?

  Before long she stood in front of Pink Lady One. The wide steps beckoned her, but she stood at the bottom of them, ignoring their call and gathering her courage. She looked both directions to see if anyone would notice her entering the house, especially anyone with a camera. Satisfied with the lack of prying eyes, she climbed the stairs and knocked on the commanding double door—bright pink, of course.

  Within moments, Rick opened the door and stood with a kitchen towel over one shoulder. He wore khaki shorts and a blue shirt that brought out his eye color. He looked startlingly handsome and every bit the movie star.

  “Hey, Whitney. You look nice.” He stepped back. “Come on in.”

  She followed him inside, taking in the understated but elegant beach decor. Someone with a great eye for interior design had furnished the house. There were cool mint green chairs, a white sofa that begged to be sat on, and soft, flowing curtains on the side windows. A huge wall of windows and French doors covered the entire back wall of the house, with a stunning view of the bay. “This place is lovely.”

  “My grandmother likes it. She comes here often.” Rick continued on until they reached the kitchen.

  The great room in the back and the kitchen were all one flowing room, perfect for entertaining. She couldn’t imagine renting a place this grand, and it boggled her mind Rick’s family had rented two houses like this for two full weeks. He looked right at home in the place, though. He moved with a self-confident ease.

  She wondered if he’d like to share some of that ease with her…

  He walked to the enormous fridge and pulled open the door. “I have another bottle of white burgundy. You seemed to enjoy that last night. But I also have beer. Or there is red wine over on the bar.”

  Trying not to seem overwhelmed by the house, the fact she was once again having dinner with a famous actor, or the choices of beverages, she slowly walked farther into the kitchen. “I’ll just have a beer, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course.” He stood back a step. “Take your pick.”

  She looked in the refrigerator. It held a dizzying array of bottled beer, most of which she didn’t recognize. “I’ll have a Corona.” She at least recognized that bottle.

  He reached for the beer and then snagged one of the fancy named bottles for himself. He got out two glasses from the tall cabinets perched over the expansive granite countertop. She watched his hands as he expertly sliced a lime and poured her beer. He gave her a glass and raised his own. “Here’s to a non-eventful dinner.”

  She’d drink to that.

  Rick grabbed a tray with their steaks and led the way out onto the deck. “It’s a nice evening. I thought we’d sit outside while I barbecue.”

  Whitney followed him outside and settled into the glider near the grill. He put the steaks on and sat next to her, close enough to touch her and smell a hint of her perfume.

  She took a sip of her beer. “The view here is gorgeous. I bet you see some fabulous sunsets.”

  “I’ve caught a few since I’ve gotten here. They are nice.”

  “The bay is so wide here, you can barely see the shore across the way.”

  “My grandmother says she loves to sit right out here on this glider when she stays here. Of course, she brings a cook and her assistant with her when she comes.”

  “Really?”

  He grinned. “At least. Sometimes more.”

  “I can’t even imagine.”

  “My grandmother thinks I’m roughing it this week with no cook or other help.”

  “I guess you didn’t tell her about eating at Sweet Caroline’s every day.” She smiled at him. “But you did say that you’re a grilling whiz.”

  “Just you wait. The steaks will be great.”

  She looked at him doubtfully. “Somehow I don’t picture you as a chef.”

  “Well, I can grill. That’s about it.” He shrugged. “I’m also a whiz at heating up leftovers in the microwave.”

  “A man of many talents.”

  He felt his phone vibrate, and he took it out of his pocket. Shawna again.

  “You can get that if you need to.”
She nodded at his phone.

  “Nah, it’s not important.” He slid the phone back into his pocket. No way was he having the conversation he needed to have with Shawna while Whitney was sitting here right next to him. He still was a bit surprised—and proud of himself—for convincing Whitney to come over.

  “So you said you grew up in Philadelphia.” She sipped her beer and looked at him with her endless blue eyes.

  Focus on words, not eyes. “Yes, mostly. I went to a private school, then I went away to camp each summer. My parents were really busy.” Really, really busy. Sometimes he wondered why they’d had kids. Well, except now they got to brag about his sister the surgeon and his brother the lawyer. “How about you? I bet you grew up in a house with a white picket fence and family dinners.”

  She looked out at the bay. “Not exactly.” Her voice was soft and low. “My mother died when I was a young girl.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just blurted out my imagined perfect life for you.” He was a clueless fool.

  She nodded, accepting his apology. “My father didn’t handle it well. He—my father—was gone a lot after that. He would just—disappear.”

  “That must have been tough.”

  He watched her take a slow sip of beer, then square her shoulders. “My brother basically raised me from then on. He took multiple jobs, dropped out of school at one point to work to keep food on our table. We kept it a secret that my father was gone so often.”

  “I can’t even imagine, I’m sorry.”

  “Well, we did okay, though I was always afraid that someone would come and take me away. I was afraid they’d come and throw me in an orphanage or foster home.”

  He was never again going to complain about his childhood. His was a bed of roses compared to hers. “So do you ever see your father now?”

  “I do. He came back a year or so ago. We made peace with our past. He’s a good man and regrets he wasn’t there for us back then. But Willie and I turned out okay.”

  “You’re close to your brother. He accepts you for the person you are. I envy you being that close to him.”