by Marie Force
“I know. Cal and I have talked about how his illness created the opening at the clinic. Without that, we never would’ve met.” She checked her watch. “Well, I’d better get up the hill and open the Attic for the day. We’ve had a nice break thanks to the storm, but back to reality today.”
“For me too. Back to the marina.”
She went up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Take care of yourself.”
“You, too.” As he watched her walk away, Grant discovered he was truly over her. In fact, he couldn’t wait to get to the marina so he could see Stephanie again. Making his way to Ned’s cab, Grant felt lighter and freer than he had in a long time. Knowing that Abby forgave him for the way he treated her and wanted to remain friends made it possible to move forward guilt-free.
Ned, Evan, Adam and Mac with Thomas on his shoulders eyed Grant with thinly veiled curiosity.
“What?” Grant asked them, exasperated by the way Gansett Islanders were always minding other people’s business, especially in his family.
“What yourself,” Adam said. “What’d she have to say?”
“Better yet,” Evan added, “what did you say to make her all weepy.” He made a pout face and dabbed at his eyes.
Enough, Grant decided as he lunged for his youngest brother and had him in a headlock in under a second. He’d forgotten, of course, how freakishly strong his “baby” brother was, which was how he found himself rolling on the pavement under Evan.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, you guys,” Mac said as Thomas giggled at his uncles’ antics. “Get up before Mom hears you’re brawling in the parking lot like a couple of drunken tourists.”
Mac knew exactly what to say to stop the wrestling match before it spiraled further out of control. None of them had any desire to be compared to a tourist. Year-round Gansett Island residents had a love-hate relationship with tourists. They loved their money but often hated their behavior.
Grant got up and brushed gravel off the seat of his shorts. His recently injured hand pulsated with pain, and he hoped hadn’t busted open his stitches. He glanced at Ned and gestured to the cab. “Still good for a ride?”
“Thought ya’d never ask. I’m ready fer a donut after three days without.”
“Let’s go.” While Grant felt like a fool for engaging in idiotic behavior in public with Evan, he’d succeeded in dodging their questions about Abby.
The arrival of the first ferry in days had brought a flood of people and cars and bikes. Ned carefully navigated the downtown area, dodging baby strollers and mopeds and pedestrians.
“What a madhouse,” Grant muttered.
“Nice ta be open fer business again.”
“I guess.”
“Yer brothers are just razzing ya, same way ya would them.”
“I know that.” Grant instantly regretted his snappish tone. Ned had been a good friend to all of them and had covered his ass more than once when he was a teenager. “Sorry to be cranky with you,” Grant said, staring out the window. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Yer thinking about Stephanie.”
“Among other things.”
“Has she told ya bout her troubles?”
Surprised by the question, Grant looked over at Ned. “Has she told you?”
Ned shook his head. “I got the Google. I know how ta use it.”
Amused by Ned’s indignant tone, Grant asked, “What’re you doing Googling the employees?”
“Somethin’ about her was familiar. Couldn’t put my finger on it. So I used the Google.”
Grant wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but there was nothing funny about Stephanie’s situation.
“So has she told ya?”
“Yeah.”
“Whata ya gonna do about it?”
“I have a few ideas in mind.”
“Yer Uncle Frank might be able to help.”
“He’s at the top of my list.”
“Good,” Ned said, seeming satisfied that someone was planning to do something to help Stephanie. “If she needs money, ya come to me, boy. I like that gal. I’d be happy ta help her out.”
“That’s really nice of you, Ned, but I doubt she’ll take money from any of us.”
“Damned foolish pride ain’t gonna get her stepdaddy outta prison.”
“How do you know he shouldn’t be in prison?” Grant asked.
“I read about how she’s been fightin’ for him ever since he’s been there. Figured she wouldn’t a been doing that if he was guilty.”
“She says he never laid a hand on her. It was her mother who beat her up and left all the bruises they found on her.”
“Ya believe her?”
“I do.”
“Then ya gotta help her. Poor gal has been fighting a long battle all by herself.” Ned pulled into the marina and cut the engine.
“Let me ask you something, Ned.”
“Anything ya want.”
“How is it you always know what’s going on before the people involved even know?”
The question was met with a smirk from Ned. “Cuz I pay attention. Ya might want ta try it, my friend.”
Grant rolled his eyes at Ned, but he couldn’t deny he’d been told that before. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Don’t let that little filly get away,” Ned said, eyeing Stephanie inside the restaurant. “I have a feeling she’s just whatcha need, Grant McCarthy.”
Since he’d been having the same feeling himself lately, he didn’t bother to deny it. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Any time.”
Chapter 19
Grant went inside to have a word with Stephanie before he got to work on the docks, but she’d suddenly disappeared. He asked Amelia, the teenage girl working the register, where she was, and Amelia gestured to Stephanie’s room behind the restaurant.
He went down the short hallway that led from the kitchen to her room, but stopped short at the sound of her agitated voice.
“But you said I have until the end of September to get you the money!”
Grant knew he shouldn’t be listening, but he couldn’t seem to move.
“I can give you nine thousand now, and the other thousand at the end of the month. Please file the appeal. I promise I’m good for it.”
As Grant waited breathlessly to see what she would say next, his heart beat fast, and his stomach ached over what she was dealing with. He knew he should stay out of it. She wouldn’t appreciate his interference, but he simply couldn’t bear to listen to the fear and panic in her voice.
He stepped to her open door. “Fire him.”
She gasped and gestured for him to get out.
Grant didn’t move. “Fire him.”
“Get out,” she whispered.
“Tell him you no longer need his services,” Grant said loud enough for the scumbag lawyer to hear him. More softly, he added, “I’ll get you someone better. I promise.”
Stephanie’s expressive eyes shot daggers at him. “Yes,” she said into the phone, speaking through gritted teeth. “You heard him right. I don’t have the money, so I guess you’re fired.”
As she ended the call and turned to him, Grant was braced for her fury. She surprised him when she didn’t yell at him for butting in to her business. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not? You’re prepared to pay him nine thousand dollars and that’s not enough to retain his services to file an appeal? He was extorting you, Stephanie. He was going to take your money and run.”
“You don’t know that! He was going to file the appeal, and now I’ve got no lawyer and no appeal. What am I supposed to tell Charlie when I see him on Friday?”
“I’ll have a new lawyer for you by the end of the day.”
“I won’t be able to afford your lawyer.”
“A lot of the guys I know would handle a case like this pro bono because of the publicity it’ll generate. Let me make a few calls and see what I can do.”
She rested a hand on her
stomach and grimaced.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Stomach pains. I can’t believe I just fired our new lawyer. We had all our hopes pinned on him.”
Grant closed the small distance between them and put his arms around her. “Breathe, baby. Deep breaths.”
Keeping her arms hanging loosely, Stephanie took a couple of rattling breaths.
“I promise I won’t let you down.” He ran his hands up and down her back as he surveyed the austere quarters that included a twin bed, a beat-up dresser and a view of the marina’s gas tanks through a small window. “I bet your stepfather has nicer accommodations in prison than you’ve got here.”
Stephanie pulled back from his embrace. “I like it. It’s free, it’s clean and it’s close to the water.”
“You would’ve liked my place in Malibu.”
“Anyone would like a place in Malibu,” she said, rolling her eyes at him and starting to sound more like herself.
He caressed her cheek. “Will you be okay?”
“I will be as long as you keep your promise and find me another lawyer.”
Grant bent to kiss her gently. “I’ll keep my promise.”
She looped her arms around his neck to keep him there. Teasing him with flirtatious strokes of her tongue, she had him breathless with longing in two seconds flat.
Grant tightened his hold on her and kicked the door shut, sealing them off from the hubbub of the marina.
“What’re you doing?” Her eyes were closed and her lips were slick. “I have to work.”
As he smiled at her halfhearted protest, his hands were already under her tank top, seeking out her nipples. “I just need a minute,” he said, backing her up to the door.
She arched her back to encourage his attention to her breasts. “I guess I have a minute.”
A minute turned into five when his hand ventured under her skirt as her talented fingers freed him from his shorts.
“No condom,” he somehow managed to say through the thick haze of lust that had stolen his sanity.
“I’m on the pill.”
Oh, God… Was she saying… Without a condom? It was official, he thought as he tugged her panties off, I’ve died and gone straight to heaven. Pressing her against the closed metal door, he arranged her legs around his hips and surged into her heat. The sensations were so exquisite, so intense, that he nearly came with one stroke.
“God, that feels good.” He bit his lip to refocus the attention on the pain rather than the growing crisis below.
Stephanie didn’t help when she arched enthusiastically into him and clawed at his back. “I can’t believe we’re doing this at work,” she whispered between hot kisses.
“There was no way I could wait until tonight.” He squeezed her ass cheeks and had to bite his lip again when her tight channel clamped down on his cock.
Suddenly, he needed more. Sweat streamed down his back as he tightened his hold on her and shifted to bring her down on the twin bed where he came face-to-face with a stuffed Pooh bear.
“Harder,” she said, driving him crazy with the harshly spoken word.
“I can’t. Pooh is looking.” While she laughed, he turned Pooh so he was facing the wall and gave her what she wanted. They came together in a cataclysmic moment of complete unity that left them panting and sweating.
“Mmm,” she said, her lips vibrating against his neck. “If we get in trouble for this, it was all your idea.”
“Absolutely,” he said, capturing her lips for another heated kiss.
“Stephanie! Are you still on the phone?”
“Oh, crap.” She pushed on Grant’s chest to dislodge him. “Amelia needs me.”
He withdrew from her, got up and extended a hand to help her. When he tried to “help” with her clothes, she slapped his hands away, so he focused on pulling up his own shorts.
“I’ll go out first,” she said, running her fingers through her spiky hair. “How do I look?”
Grant hooked a hand around her waist and kissed her swollen lips. “Like you’ve just been thoroughly ravished.”
“Fabulous.”
“Yes, it was.”
She smiled, kissed him once more and opened the door, looking both ways in the hallway before she ducked out.
Grant closed the door and dropped onto the bed. He’d never done anything quite like what’d just happened in this tiny room. Before Stephanie, sex had always been a civilized encounter between two willing participants. Before Stephanie, he now realized, sex had been kind of boring. The thought made him feel guilty toward Abby, but he couldn’t deny the truth.
Mindful of his promise to Stephanie, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts until he found Dan Torrington’s number. He was told Dan was in court and left a message for him. His next call was to his Uncle Frank, who was also unavailable at the moment. Again, Grant left a message. In both cases, he used the word “urgent.”
He stashed his phone in his pocket and left Stephanie’s room. On the way past the kitchen, he caught her eye and winked at her. She smiled at him, and if he wasn’t mistaken, a bit of a blush colored her cheeks, which was deeply satisfying to Grant. Whistling a chirpy tune, he stepped into the bright sunshine to find his father, brothers and Ned occupying one of the picnic tables.
The whistle died on his lips when he realized they were staring at him. “What?”
“What yourself,” Big Mac said with a glint in his eye. “Where ya been?”
“On the phone, if you must know.”
Evan elbowed Adam. “Is that what they’re calling it in LA these days?”
For the second time that day, Grant wanted to kill his youngest brother. Rather than jump him, though, this time he chose to ignore him. On most mornings, he might’ve joined them for coffee and a donut, but today he wasn’t interested in sitting on the hot seat.
His ringing phone gave him an excuse to head down the main pier. He was relieved to see Dan Torrington’s name on the caller ID.
“Counselor. Thanks for calling me back.”
“No problem. Don’t tell me you finally got yourself arrested.”
“No,” Grant said, laughing, “not yet. Listen, I have this friend…” Grant relayed a synopsis of Stephanie’s story.
“Wow, man, looks like you’ve stumbled upon your next screenplay.”
“Maybe,” Grant said, once again ignoring the buzz of interest that overtook him. He was dying to write this story. “But that’s not my primary concern. She needs help, Dan. This whole situation is insane.”
“It certainly sounds that way. You say she testified, but it didn’t do any good?”
“She said it was like she was screaming at the top of her lungs, and no one was listening.”
“You believe her?”
For the second time that day, Grant said, “I do. She loves him. I think he’s the only person in her life who was ever kind to her or took an interest in her. She’s eaten up with guilt over the fact that his kindness toward her resulted in fourteen years in prison.”
Dan sighed. “I hate cases like this. They make me see red.”
“Can you help her?”
“You bet I can. Let me check the schedule and see how soon I can get there.”
Grant’s mouth fell open in shock. “You’re going to come here? You yourself?”
Dan laughed. “I do actually work, you know. And miscarriage-of-justice cases like this interest me.”
“She doesn’t have a lot of money, so let me know what you need to get started.”
“Don’t worry about that for now. We’ll see what’s what after I’ve had a chance to dig a little deeper.”
“I owe you big for this.”
“Yes, you do. At the very least, I want a consultant’s credit on the screenplay.”
“You got it,” Grant said with a chuckle.
“I’ll be in touch.”
Grant sprinted down the main pier, past the picnic table full of nosy McC
arthys and straight into the restaurant. He did a one-handed leap over the counter and made a beeline for Stephanie. When he reached her, he picked her up and swung her around.
“What the heck has gotten into you?” she asked, her eyes darting around nervously to see who might be watching them.
“I just got off the phone with Dan Torrington.”
She clutched his shoulders and looked up at him with those big blue-green eyes that did him in. “And?”
“He’s coming here.”
“Wh-what?”
“He’s coming to Rhode Island to see you and Charlie. He’s taking the case, Steph.”
As if she couldn’t believe what he was saying, she shook her head.
By now they’d attracted a crowd of onlookers, but Grant didn’t care. When he realized she was crying, he gathered her in closer to him and turned his back on the crowd. “Talk to me, honey. What’re you thinking?”
“I can’t believe it.”
“If anyone can get you and Charlie out of this nightmare, it’s Dan. A lot of times, just having his name associated with a case is all it takes to open doors.”
“I can’t afford him,” she said, wiping at the dampness on her face.
“He said not to worry about that for now.”
She looked up at him again. “He’s really coming here?”
Grant nodded and hugged her again, relieved that he’d been able to do something for her. As he held her close, it occurred to him that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.
Owen poured a cup of coffee, filled it with cream and sugar the way Laura liked it, and started up the stairs to the manager’s apartment that used to belong to his grandparents. He was on the third-floor landing when he heard what sounded like retching noises.
He gave a gentle rap on the door, which swung open. “Laura?” Putting the coffee on a table, he tried to decide what he should do. Another round of violent vomiting spurred him into the bathroom where he found her draped over the toilet. “Jesus, Laura, what can I do?”
“Go.” She waved a hand at him. “Go away. Please.”
For a second, Owen considered doing as she asked, but then she was heaving again, and he couldn’t leave her. He wet a washcloth under cold water and crouched next to her to bathe her face.
