Killer Summer

by Lynda Curnyn

  I don’t think I was imagining it either. After all, no one else— none of Tom’s other pals—had rushed to help Tom the way Vince had.

  But I guess they were best friends. Which was why I needed to be careful, too. I wasn’t sure if Tom would approve of dating within the office. Then I remembered Yaz had dated a sales rep at Luxe, which was a full three blocks down Seventh Avenue from the showroom for Edge. And the office Vince worked from was all the way out on Long Island.

  Still, I would have to be discreet. At least initially. Tom was paying me a pretty fat salary as head sales rep at Edge. But that didn’t mean I had to lose an edge on getting next to Vince.

  Now, where the hell was he?

  My eyes scanned the beach as I got closer to Seabay Walk, the block where Vince mentioned his house was located. Chances are, he had set up camp on the beach close to Seabay, which was about five blocks east of West Lighthouse Walk, where Maggie’s Dream was located. But as my gaze moved over the blankets and beach umbrellas that lined the sandy shoreline, I suddenly couldn’t picture Vince out here. He seemed too worldly and sophisticated to be lying on a beach blanket. I could see him on a sailboat, dressed in whites. Sitting outside a beachfront cafe sipping a martini—not that we had any beachfront cafes in Kismet.

  Maybe gazing into my eyes across a table in Rome…

  Mmm. I always wanted to go to Italy.

  I heard Janis gasp and realized she was choking as she tugged me along. Who taught this dog to walk on a leash? I wondered, realizing that it was probably Maggie and that Maggie had left off…midtraining. I think they’d only gotten Janis this past year. I pulled Janis to a halt and she sat, looked up at me, her brown eyes all innocence, her tongue flecked with foam.

  Clearly I wasn’t ready to pick up where Maggie left off with the dog. The poor thing was dying of thirst, and I hadn’t even remembered to bring water for her. So much for my new life as a dog owner.

  Then I felt my own throat grow dry at the sight of darkly tanned legs. My eyes roamed up to the darkly handsome man attached, who was sitting in a low beach chair, talking on a cell phone.

  Okay, so maybe the cell phone on the beach was a guy thing.

  The question was, did I wait for him to get off it before I moseyed by or…

  Suddenly my choice was taken away from by none other than Janis, who leaped forward, barking wildly as she pulled me toward the water.

  Oh, God. She was going to take me right into the tide.

  Yes, I was wearing a bikini, but drowned rat wasn’t the look I wanted for my next meeting with Vince.

  “Janis, heel!” I yelled, and miraculously, she did, though I think it had less to do with my command than with the little girl who sat just at the tideline, laughing as Janis practically bowled her over in attempt to lick every inch of her face.

  “Janis!” the girl squealed, reaching her arms around the dog’s neck to embrace her as she did.

  Janis? What, did everyone on the beach know Maggie’s dog already?

  Unless…

  “Sophia!”

  I turned to see Vince, now standing, cell phone abandoned as he called out, his face creased with what looked like the concern of a…of a parent. For his child.

  Oh, God. I knew Vince came with baggage, as in the ex-wife variety, I just hadn’t counted on a kid.

  He walked down the beach, his eyes lighting with recognition when he saw me.

  “Oh, it’s you,” he said.

  So much for a hearty hello-good-to-see-you-again.

  “Yes, I was just taking Janis for a walk,” I hedged.

  He smiled finally, relief evident in his features. “For a second, I thought Sophia was being attacked by a strange dog. So many labs on the beach. I guess I didn’t recognize Janis.”

  So many girls, too. At least he recognized me.

  “I like your bathing suit,” the little girl said, startling me. I looked up to discover she was now standing by my side, studying me curiously as she fondled one of Janis’s ears.

  I felt an urge to pat the kid’s head.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Sage, this is my daughter, Sophia,” Vince said.

  All the fight drained out of me, now that he had confirmed it. His daughter. I studied Vince as he smiled down at Sophia. He looked even more handsome, if that was possible, in a pair of cargo shorts and a white button-down rolled up at the sleeves. Sophia looked just like him, too. Same dark eyes and long lashes. Same exotic features.

  A father. I guess it made sense. He had been married, and he had to be close to Tom’s age. But still, it disturbed me. I had never dated a man with children. Hell, most of the men I dated were children.

  “How’s Tom feeling today?” he asked.

  “He’s okay. He slept in a little bit.”

  He nodded, as if this answer satisfied him.

  “We gonna go in the water now, Daddy?” Sophia asked.

  He sighed. “Not now, kiddo. We have to head back up to the house.”

  Sophia’s face crumpled, and she looked ready to stamp one of her pretty little bare feet. I couldn’t blame her. I wanted to stamp my foot, too. This guy was always running off somewhere.

  “Daddy has to send a few e-mails,” Vince replied. Then he looked at me.“You leave the office for a few days and chaos ensues.”

  “But the office is closed for the holiday weekend,” I said.

  He smiled ruefully. “They aren’t celebrating the Fourth in China, unfortunately. In fact, it’s almost Monday morning in Shanghai. And I need to get some information to my team at our factory there.”

  Well, I like an ambitious man. But now I knew why I never dated them-—because they were never around to date.

  “But I want to stay at the beach!” Sophia wailed.

  I resisted an urge to clamp my hands over my ears. I wasn’t so sure I liked children. Well, I liked them well enough. Just didn’t want to deal with them.

  Then I looked up at Vince, saw the struggle in his beautiful features and, before I could think twice about it, I said,“l could keep an eye on her.”

  Vince looked at me. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” As sure as I’ll ever be.

  Just moments after Vince left and Sophia sat looking up at me expectantly, panic set in. I hadn’t dealt with a kid since I was a kid, and then it had been my sister. What was I going to do with this one?

  “Janis looks hot,” she said, smiling fondly at the brown lab, who had crawled under the umbrella to cool off, yet still sat heaving in the heat. “Maybe we should go in the water?”

  “No,” I answered quickly. Not the water. “How about something to drink? You got anything to drink in the cooler for this poor old dog?”

  Sophia giggled. “She’s not old. I’m. older than she is.”

  “How old are you?” I asked.

  “Six. But I’m gonna be seven after Santa Claus comes.”

  Six. God, I couldn’t remember being six. I remembered Hope being six, but I don’t think I ever was.

  I shook off the thought, stepping over to the small cooler and pulling off the lid. Three bottles of water and a few ice pops in an assortment of colors. I felt Sophia step up next to me. “Ice pops!” she squealed, grabbing one before I could stop her.

  Well, I supposed a little sugar wouldn’t hurt anything. Besides, it might keep her occupied for a bit, I thought, watching as she struggled with the plastic wrap.

  “Here, I’ll help you.” I took the pop from her, tearing the wrapper off and handing it back. She looked at me as if I had solved world hunger, smiling happily as she popped the tip of the bright green ice in her mouth.

  Grabbing a bottle of water, I opened it and took a good sip before turning to Janis, who sat, tongue lolling, as she gazed up at me.

  How was I going to get this water in her?

  “Here, use this,” Sophia said, spotting my dilemma and reaching tor a yellow bucket that sat abandoned on the beach blanket.

  “Thanks,” I replied, taking
the bucket and filling it before I placed it before Janis, who perked up immediately, lapping up the water within moments.

  Well, that took up at least four minutes. I looked at Sophia.

  “Want some?” she said, holding out the pop to me as a gooey green line began to trail down her arms.

  Yuck. “Uh, no thanks. I’m trying to quit.”

  She giggled. “Silly,” she admonished. “Who would quit eating ice pops?”

  Give it time, kid, you’ll see.

  Sitting down on the beach chair Vince had abandoned, I studied the horizon, the waves crashing on the beach.

  “So how old are you?” Sophia asked.

  “Thirty-one,” I answered, surprised by her curiosity.

  “Wow,” she said. “That’s almost as old as my daddy.”

  Hmm. Maybe I could turn this baby-sitting gig into an opportunity. A research opportunity. “How old is Daddy?”

  “Forty-four. That’s double digits,” she said, licking a drip from the ice pop with satisfaction.

  I smiled at her. Forty-four. Okay, older, but not as old as Tom, who was forty-eight if I remembered correctly.

  “So do you live with Daddy?” I said.

  She shook her head. “I live with Mommy.”

  Well, that was one hurdle down. I could deal with the whole kid thing better if the kid wasn’t around all the time. “Where’s Mommy today?”

  “Home,” she replied, maneuvering the ice pop to catch another drip.

  “Where’s home?”

  “Brightwaters.”

  Just across the bay. A little too close for my comfort. “Where’s Daddy live?” I asked, pumping the kid shamelessly.

  She scrunched her nose. “In a condom.”

  I bit back a smile. “Condominium?”

  Smiling brightly, she nodded her head.

  “Where?”

  “Brightwaters.”

  Uh-oh. That was a bit close to the ex. I wasn’t sure I liked that.

  But I supposed I would have to deal with it, if I really wanted this man. A vision filled my mind of Vince at the party the night before. Those broad shoulders. Dark eyes. Big, big hands.

  Oh yeah, I wanted him. At least once. Maybe twice.

  Okay, maybe I could do with a whole lot of him.

  Besides, this kid business wasn’t bad after all, I thought, sinking deeper into the chair. At least I was out in the sun. Relaxing…

  “Ohhhhhh!”

  I sat up, just in time to watch the rest of Sophia’s ice pop slide off her stick and into the sand. Shit, now what? The kid looked like she was about to burst into tears. I could handle just about anything but tears.

  “Sophie, honey, it’s okay—”

  The teary face dissolved, replaced by a frown. “It’s Sophia.”

  The kid had moxie, I thought, looking at the way her dark brows pulled together over her perfect little nose. She had some cheekbones, too. Just like her daddy. “Sorry,” I said finally.

  She seemed to forgive me immediately, beaming me a thousand watt smile. “You want to help me make a sand castle?”

  Actually, I had been thinking about taking a nap. Now I glanced at the assortment of buckets and shovels and wished I could shut my eyes and make it all go away. “Maybe later,” I said noncommittally.

  Sophia’s face began to crumble again.

  “Okay, okay!”

  So that was how I wound up on my knees in the sand. After I had wiped off the green goo from Sophia’s hands the best I could with a wet nap I found in Vince’s beach bag, we set to work.

  I remembered that I was quite the little castle-maker back in the day. Granted, I didn’t have these fancy molds that Sophia had to make turrets, or a special shovel to carve out a moat. I was lucky my mother and father even remembered sunscreen when they took me to the beach. But as I dug up sand, molded corners, patted down the sides and carved out a few windows, a memory of me and Hope on the beach emerged. I shook it off, focusing on Sophia, her tongue between her teeth as she shoveled out the moat. It was one of the few jobs she could manage, and she had made a mess of herself in the process. Sand covered her everywhere—her knees, her chin and probably elsewhere, I realized, watching as she tugged at her bathing suit bottom.

  “Can we go in the water now?” she said.

  There was no way to avoid it any longer, I thought, looking at her flushed face and sandy arms and legs.

  “Come on,” I said reluctantly as I stood up.

  “Yay!” Sophia yelled, jumping up and racing toward the tide.

  “Sophia!” I said, running to catch up.

  She stopped, turned around, a puzzled expression on her face.

  “Wait for me,” I said meekly.

  She did, and within moments, we were both standing with our feet in the tide.

  I stared out to the horizon, concentrating on the feel of the surf washing up against my legs…

  And nearly fell over when I felt a small, wet hand clasp mine. I looked down with surprise and found a shivering Sophia smiling tremulously at me. As if she had given me her trust, then realized she wasn’t sure if I could be trusted.

  A wave rolled up, soaking my thighs and practically bowling Sophia over.

  “Be careful,” I said, clutching her hand tighter as she squealed.

  I shivered, as an image filled my mind of rushing water, tugging at a listless body…

  I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t…

  I shut my eyes, but that didn’t stop the images. And when I opened them again, I was surprised to feel them fill with tears.

  But that was nothing compared to the fear that clutched at me when Sophia wrenched free of my hand.

  “Sophia, no!” I shouted, the lump in my throat thickening to panic as I watched her narrowly escape a crashing wave.

  “Sophia!” a male voice echoed, and I felt a wash of relief so strong tears did fall. I swiped at them quickly, before turning to see Vince heading down the beach toward us.

  “Daddy! Sage and I are swimming!” Sophia yelled, running up the beach to meet him.

  Giving me just enough time to swallow the rest of my tears. God, what was wrong with me? I thought I had this under control.

  By the time Vince made his way down to the tide, Sophia now hoisted up on one lean hip, I had it under control.

  Or so I thought.

  “Is everything all right?” Vince asked, his gaze roaming over me speculatively.

  “I’m fine. I just—” I looked around wildly, my eyes falling on Janis, who had stood, as if alerted to some trouble. “I need to get back.”

  Then, before I had to answer the questions I saw in his eyes, I jogged back up to the blanket, disentangling Janis’s leash from the umbrella stand and heading quickly back toward the lighthouse and home.

  * * *

  Chapter Seventeen

  Maggie

  If I can’t make it here, I can’t make it anywhere.

  oTm was the one who suggested I go back to work, which was ironic since he was the one who’d encouraged me to leave my job. Maybe he sensed my unhappiness. Not surprising, since I complained often enough. But if my lack of direction in life left me lethargic, it spurred Tom into action. First he suggested I come to work for him at Luxe, but the last thing I wanted to do was spend my days shuffling along in his shadow. I already did enough of that at home. He talked to friends in various industries, but the job offers were few and far between, and when they came, they were usually administrative, which made sense, since that was the only kind of job I had ever held during my not-very-glamorous and short-lived career in the music business. Then he started bringing home bulletins from the local colleges, believing a few courses might help me better define my dreams.

  But as I flipped through course catalogs, I realized that I didn’t have any dreams. Not anymore.

  I also learned something about Tom during my malaise. And that was that he was at his happiest when he thought he could help. I started to understand all that passion he had
shown me when we first met. Back then, I had been a glorified secretary on a meager salary and Tom was the white knight come to save me. He had been my hero then, and now, I realized, he was trying to be my hero again.

  I loved him for trying. And hated myself a little more. I had never seen myself as a damsel in distress, but there I was, the disillusioned housewife with no more prospects and even less ambition than I’d had years ago.

  Of course, it wasn’t Tom’s fault my life was nowhere. Though I sometimes wondered: If I hadn’t been surrounded by the comfort and security he provided, might I have done something more than master the art of a making a respectable creme brulee?

  But it wasn’t Tom who saved me this time around; it was Amanda.

  Amanda had managed to finally get married, though Donnie Havens wasn’t the prince she’d once looked for. When they first met, he hardly made enough to support himself, much less a wife and family. But he seemed to really love Amanda, so much so that he mortgaged the tiny house they bought on Long Island at least twice to give her everything he thought she needed. Still, she seemed happy enough—or at least around me she acted like she had it all. Maybe she did. Like me, she never had children, though she said it was because she was devoted to her career. I might have been jealous of her ambition, except that I sometimes wondered if she hung on to that job simply because Donnie couldn’t afford to give her the lifestyle she desired on his own.

  Still, I was grateful Amanda did keep her job. Especially since she helped me land a position with a client of hers, a small record label in need of a marketing assistant. And though it was hard, at age thirty-four, to find myself taking orders from a boss who was half my age, I did a good job at Global Records for the seven or so months I was there. At least I thought so. But my boss, Lewis, didn’t seem to agree. Or he got tired of arguing with me over our differences about how to run the marketing department. Lewis said I was “out of it.” But really, what did he know? Rock and roll was here to stay, not like that derivative mix of pop and dance music Global Records was trying to push.

  There were other jobs, too. Mostly in promotions (it was the only thing of value on my resume) or selling ad space. But the one thing that became clearer and clearer to me was that I was unfit for a workforce that catered to a demographic I had lost touch with.