There were other ways to spend your waning years than doing the one thing that could cut those years short. “Why is this book so important to him?”
Francine shrugged. “I don’t know, but does it matter? Maybe he just wants to live on. Without a family of his own, this is the only way he’ll be remembered.”
Kendall stared at the glass dish in the center of the table. “He has family,” he stated. “And he’ll be remembered.”
Her small hand rested on his. “You and I know that, but we aren’t blood, darling. That means something to a man.”
Did it mean something to Kendall? At thirty-four, he’d never come close to having a wife and children. His father’s dedication to Ray, and insistence on living on Haven Island, had created a deep resentment in his mom, infecting their family with a bitterness that permeated every memory Kendall had. That resentment was a major reason he never sought a wife of his own.
Because, like his father, Kendall’s place was on the island, and he would never ask or expect a woman to give up everything she knew to live there with him. Even if he found a woman willing to make the sacrifice, the resentment would come eventually, and history would repeat itself.
After his father had died, Jacqueline James had moved back to New York City. Kendall missed her, but he respected her choice. She’d spent more than twenty years away from her home and family, and she deserved to be happy.
As Kendall contemplated both his past and future, Aadi walked into the kitchen.
“How is he?” Francine asked, rising from her chair.
“He’s okay,” the retired doctor replied. “Skipped a couple of pills this morning, so I’ve suggested one of those day-of-the-week dispensers, but otherwise, a little rest and he should be much better.”
“Can I see him?” Kendall asked.
“He dozed off as I was leaving. I’d let him sleep for an hour or so.”
“Thank you, Aadi.” Francine walked him to the door. “We’re lucky you were here.” The two whispered something Kendall couldn’t make out before the door clicked shut and Francine turned his way. “Liza needs to know that Ray is all right, and I believe you owe her an apology.” She pointed toward the stairs. “Up you go.”
“I’m going,” Kendall said, following the order. There was a chance Liza wouldn’t open her door, at least not for him, but he was man enough to give it a shot.
If nothing else, maybe she’d give him his dog back.
“I really don’t know what you see in him,” Liza said, giving Amos his third slice of ham. “He’s completely irrational, rude, and insulting. Did you hear how mean he was to me? As if I’d be worried about a defenseless old man only because he paid me money.” She rolled a piece of lunch meat for herself. “He makes me sound like a monster for accepting a job offer. An offer that came to me, I might add. I did not go looking for it.”
Truth be told, she hadn’t done her due diligence before taking on this project. Desperation had been her motivation, and that had led to assumptions she never should have made. Interview the man, put the details on paper, and hopefully get a real book idea out of the process. Liza hadn’t considered the human factor at all.
This was the downfall of living like a hermit. She’d forgotten how complicated people could be. Ironic, since human complications had pushed her into hermit mode in the first place. In her previous life as a reporter, the real reason she’d preferred historical articles was that the individuals involved were typically deceased, which made them less likely to take offense at a perceived slight or her omitting them altogether.
Three years ago, she’d written what she’d felt had been a well-researched article on the advancement of women in the workforce over the last fifty years. The result had been hurtful personal attacks from every direction. Women who’d chosen not to work had been offended, as if she’d implied that they hadn’t been part of the fight for women’s rights. Working women had insisted they still faced more obstacles than she’d included in the article, which meant she’d belittled their continuing battle.
To avoid offending anyone, from then on, Liza had limited her work to topics that included little to no human involvement. As expected, she’d run out of viable subjects in a matter of months. Hence, a life of fiction writing. Thankfully, she’d fallen in love with the form almost immediately.
“I’m really not a bad person, Amos. I wish I could convince people of that.”
How to do so was the question. Regardless of approaching all endeavors with the best of intentions, she was misunderstood time and again. Unless the whole world had somehow conspired to give her a hard time, Liza had to be the problem. A depressing thought.
“Maybe getting a dog is the answer.” She stared into Amos’s smiling face. “You seem to like me no matter what I say. Which probably explains your tolerance for your owner.”
A knock sounded at the door, and Liza hopped up, expecting news from Francine. Instead, she found Kendall. Still annoyed, she didn’t invite him in.
“How is Ray?”
“Aadi says he missed a medication this morning, but he should be okay with a little rest.”
She let out a breath. “Thank goodness. Thank you for letting me know.” When he didn’t immediately walk away, she crossed her arms. “Is there something else?”
An apology, perhaps? A little groveling for being a jerk.
Kendall rubbed the back of his neck. “I owe you an apology.”
Will wonders never cease.
“I’m listening,” she said, not ready to trust him yet.
He rubbed his whisker-covered jaw. “Can I come in?”
Willing to hear him out, she stepped back. “Okay.”
Amos’s entire body wagged with excitement at the new arrival. “Hey, boy,” Kendall said, bending to offer a scratch behind the ear.
After closing the door, she crossed to the counter and leaned against it, waiting for his apology with well-earned skepticism.
“I’ve been an ass the last couple days.”
Good start. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Dark brows furrowed. “You don’t have to be sarcastic.”
“Sarcasm is the best I can do right now. How would you feel if I suggested you only care about people who can fatten your bank account?”
The grimace softened. “That was uncalled for. Sorry.”
Not the most effusive apology, but considering the source, she accepted. “Thank you. But how do I know you won’t turn back into a jerk in an hour?”
Kendall relaxed, leaning his bulk against the wall beside the door. “Francine set me straight on some things. I’ve decided to get on board with the book idea.”
Suspicion tightened her shoulders. “That’s an abrupt change.” Did this mean there really wasn’t some nefarious crime in Ray’s past? “What happened to protecting Ray from what a book would reveal?”
Holding her gaze, he considered his answer. “You said that details could be left out. Is that still true?”
“Yes, but what if Ray doesn’t want to leave them out?”
“Who gets final say?”
Excellent question. Liza hadn’t insisted that the contract give her full control, mostly because the story she’d be writing didn’t belong to her. She’d also never assumed that Ray Wallis might possess some deep dark secret.
“This is Ray’s story, so it’s up to him.”
Kendall closed the space between them, stopping much too close for Liza’s comfort. His heat surrounded her as his deep baritone dropped to a whisper. “Just promise me you’ll consider the consequences once you know everything.”
Eyes dropping to his full lips, she leaned in. “What kind of consequences?”
He shook his head. “Just promise.”
The journalist in her wanted to argue that anything on the record was fair game, but the genuine concern in his brown eyes had her rethinking that position. “I promise.”
Relief softened his features, and the half grin did funny things to her br
ain. “Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate that.”
They lingered, a mere foot apart, and Liza noticed the hint of a dimple lurking beneath the dark stubble on his left cheek. “You should smile more,” she said. “You don’t look like such a grumpy bear when you smile.”
“A bear?” he repeated, brows arched.
“Yeah. I mean,” she added, leaning back, “you’re still the size of a bear, but flashing that dimple makes you less scary.”
Leaning a hand on the counter, he invaded her space. “You’ve been afraid of me?”
She didn’t say that. “I’m not afraid of anything. I’m just suggesting that a smile now and then can go a long way.”
“With you?” he asked.
Liza wasn’t sure what he meant. “What with me?”
“Smiling goes a long way with you?”
When had she lost control of this conversation? “Are you flirting with me?”
Still grinning, he leaned his hip on the counter edge. “You’re the one saying nice things about my smile.”
Bristling, she put several more feet between them. “I was making an observation. Not offering compliments.”
“Okay, then.” Kendall rose to his full height. “Ray should be up for talking in a couple of hours. While I’m here, do you want me to show you how the cart works?”
Liza did want to know how to use the thing. A quick walk around it the night before hadn’t yielded much information. She’d figured out how to turn it on—since turning a key seemed obvious enough—but not how to put it in gear. If only she’d paid better attention the day of the tour.
“I would, yes.”
“Okay, then.” He strolled to the door that led outside. “Come on, Amos.”
The dog hopped into action, and once beast and owner reached the small porch, Kendall turned her way. “Are you coming?”
“I need some shoes, and then I’ll be down.”
“All right.”
The door closed, and Liza remained frozen near the counter. Cranky Kendall had been exhausting and annoying, but friendly Kendall might be much more of a threat. That dimple was a weapon all by itself, and sadly, she couldn’t claim immunity to its charms.
Having Kendall on her side would make life easier over the next few weeks, Liza reminded herself. This was a good thing. But from the way her body hummed in response to one flash of a grin, it was maybe too much of a good thing.
“Make sure both cords are plugged in or the battery won’t charge.” Kendall pointed to the outlet under the driver’s side of the seat. “When you want to use the cart, unplug everything and wrap the cords around the battery in the back. Any questions?”
Liza had paid close attention throughout his instructions, always keeping a safe distance between them. He hadn’t intended to tease her upstairs, but she’d started it. There was no need to act as if he might attack her at any minute.
“What do I do if it rains?” she asked.
“You get wet.” Seemed like that should be an obvious one. “Anything else?”
“Is this thing fast enough to outrun an alligator?”
“Maybe,” he joked.
As expected, blue eyes went wide. “What do you mean, maybe? I need this job, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to die for it.”
Interesting statement. “You need this job?”
A hand slid through her blonde curls as the wind whipped the long dress around her legs. “Yes, I do,” she confessed. “Contrary to what you and everyone else seems to think, writing one bestseller does not make you rich. Or even moderately comfortable.”
So that’s why she’d bristled when he brought up money.
“Wouldn’t it help to write another one?”
“Now why didn’t I think of that?”
Okay. So he’d asked a stupid question. “Too bad you can’t make a living off sarcasm.”
She smiled. “If that were possible, I’d have a Manhattan penthouse.”
Kendall didn’t think so. “You don’t strike me as the penthouse type.”
Liza looked off in the distance as if considering his analysis. “You might be right,” she said, turning back his way. “I’d rather have a historic brownstone on a quiet neighborhood street. Though I might go stir-crazy in something that big all by myself.”
“You could take home an alligator, so you wouldn’t be alone.”
Laughter danced on the breeze. “First flirting and now a real joke. Where’s the cranky caveman who tried to hurl me from a moving cart?”
“That wasn’t my fault. You let go of the bar.”
“You should have slowed down for the turn.”
“If you hadn’t worn such a short dress, I wouldn’t have been distracted.” Liza blushed as Kendall cursed his stupid mouth. “If we’re good, I’ll head home to shower.” He was still in his running clothes and likely stank.
“We’re good,” she said. “Thanks for the compliment.”
“The what?”
One corner of her pink lips curled up. “The dress comment. That was a compliment, wasn’t it?”
Kendall’s body tightened at the gleam in her blue eyes. “Yeah, it was. Let me know if you have any problems with the cart.”
Liza saluted. “Will do.”
Backing into the sunlight, he snapped for Amos to follow him. “See you around, then.”
“See you around.”
Trudging through the sand to his cart at the front of the house, Kendall’s thoughts wandered into dangerous territory. He wouldn’t have minded sparring with Liza a little longer. She challenged him one minute, shoulders back and spine straight, only to soften at the slightest compliment. The combination of strong and soft pulled at Kendall more than a mere physical attraction.
To his surprise, he was starting to genuinely like the challenging writer with the pretty smile and quick wit, which is where the dangerous part came in. Like she’d said, Liza was a brownstone-in-the-city kind of girl. Not a woman who would be happy living on Haven Island. If her working relationship with Ray wasn’t reason enough, this fact alone would keep Liza Teller squarely in the off-limits category.
Chapter 9
The week went by in a blur.
They’d worked out a solid routine for both Ray’s pill-taking and his interviews with Liza. He’d insisted she enjoy the island for at least a few hours each day, and every evening he invited another neighbor to dinner. After the first few days, Liza noticed a pattern. One she wouldn’t have expected when she’d stepped off the ferry more than a week before.
Everyone on Haven Island was rich.
Ray’s home had been evidence enough that he was well-off, plus the generous advance, of course. And then there had been Francine, the world-renowned artist. The day of Ray’s episode, she’d met Aadi, the retired doctor who happened to be a groundbreaking heart surgeon from Atlanta. He’d bought a vacation home on the island nearly a decade ago and had been living as a retiree on Haven for just under three years.
After that, she’d met the Boston lawyer—a man named Jacob Michaels who’d come on a little stronger than Liza liked—then the Wall Street trader, the professional baseball player who’d grown up in the Lowcountry, and a woman who owned a city block in downtown Charleston.
All of them appeared to have more money than the Pope and considered Haven an island paradise where they could leave the world behind once they stepped off the ferry. Or off their own yachts, in at least two cases.
Liza felt obscenely out of place with each new acquaintance. Not that anyone had acted as if she were beneath them. On the contrary. If she hadn’t grown suspicious and typed a few names into a search engine, she never would have guessed these island residents weren’t ordinary people.
In truth, nothing on Haven was ordinary.
Not the quiet beaches, the graceful birds, or the startlingly large alligator she’d spotted sunning himself on a floating dock during one of her afternoon jaunts around the island. She’d stopped long enough to get a picture—
because Vanessa was never going to believe the story without visual proof—from the safety of her running golf cart.
When she’d conveyed the story to Ray, he’d replied with a simple, “That’s just Bruce. He’s harmless.”
The natives may have fooled themselves into believing that this creature was harmless, but Liza wasn’t falling for it.
As far as she knew, Kendall was the only resident who wasn’t wealthy, which made Liza wish he’d come around more often so she wouldn’t feel so much like a peasant among nobility. When they’d parted the day of Ray’s fainting spell, she’d felt lighter than she had in a long time. Liza couldn’t remember the last time a man had flirted with her, let alone one as attractive as Kendall James.
Not that she would partake in anything more than a friendly flirtation with a man whose moods swung from sweet to surly with the regularity of a metronome, but still. There was no reason she couldn’t enjoy a man’s company while she was here.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t seen Kendall since that day. Not even on her frequent outings driving herself around the island and taking dozens of photos. Liza told herself she missed Amos, and that was why she looked for the pair down every narrow lane.
“We have a new adventure for tonight,” Ray said as Liza watched a heron glide along the glowing horizon line. They’d been working two hours in the morning and two hours after lunch before her subject followed doctor’s orders and retired for a daily nap. Late afternoon, they’d have supper, and then talk on Ray’s deck until just after sunset.
“Shouldn’t you be going to bed?” she asked. Ray rarely stayed up more than a half hour after the sun went down.
He rose from the rocker with surprising agility. “Tonight, we’re going to the movies.”
“The movies?”
“Yes. Bradley’s Bargain Cinema kicks off the season with a viewing of Casablanca.” He rubbed his hands together. “One of my favorites.”
Liza loved the film as well, but since when did the island have a cinema? “I thought there were only homes here.”
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