by Edie Claire
“I thought not,” she answered for him. “I knew you were a player the first time I laid eyes on you.”
He had the audacity to look startled. “Now, wait a minute!” he fired back. “I am not a player!”
“Well, what do you call it then?”
His jaws clenched as he struggled to compose himself. “A player is a man who deceives women by making them think they’re the only one, when they’re not. I don’t do that. I’ve never done that. Any woman I get involved with knows exactly what I’m offering. And what I’m not.”
Laney was not appeased. “How noble of you.”
“I’m telling you the truth!” he insisted. “Ask anyone in Tofino if you don’t believe me!” He went quiet a moment. “Not that it matters,” he finished gruffly.
As quickly as his anger had flared, it seemed to drain out of him. And as Laney reflected on his words for the first time, her own anger followed suit. He wasn’t lying to her. Hadn’t his ex at the coffee shop already said as much herself? You’re not his type… He knows you want a boyfriend.
Laney wasn’t being fair to him. He might not want what she wanted, but that didn’t make him an unethical, insensitive jerk. Which is what she had effectively called him.
“I’m sorry,” she said genuinely. “I do believe you. And you’re right. You’re not a player and I shouldn’t have used that term. In any event, I’ve got no right criticizing your lifestyle. I apologize.”
“It’s all right,” he said softly, his ready forgiveness only making her feel worse. “Your nerves have got to be on edge right now. We shouldn’t—” He shook his head. “Any way you look at it, this is a bad time. Can we just go out and… well, see Maui?”
When he smiled at her again, the sight of her old friend Jason nearly crumpled her heart. If she didn’t stop pushing, she would lose him altogether. She couldn’t deal with that. She cared about him too much. Needed him too much.
“How about we forget the last half hour ever happened?” she suggested, her voice painfully weak. Buck up, woman!
His eyes were twinkling again. “Forgetting would be difficult,” he said softly, leaving no doubt as to which part of the last half hour he was referring to. His voice dropped lower. “Impossible, actually. How about pretending to forget instead?”
Laney knew she hadn’t a prayer at accomplishing either. But she could see no other way forward.
She nodded and walked back into the condo.
Chapter 28
Jason had expected Maui to be gorgeous. But the sheer number of jaw-droppingly beautiful vistas they encountered on a leisurely drive up the western coast of the island surprised even him. The ocean was striking enough, with its deep blue color — which he had to admit, even Tofino on a clear day couldn’t compare to — and with the rocky cliffs of Lana'i and Moloka'i rising from its depths in the distance. But the farther north they drove, the more lush and verdant Maui became, with jagged green peaks straddling jungle-like valleys whose tumbling brooks carried mountain rain out to sea. They made a stop on the cliff above Honolua Bay, where he admired the breaking waves at its base, fiercely jealous of the small band of surfers who were practiced enough to take on the break even with the unfavorable wind. Laney kept telling him he should surf whenever and wherever he wanted, but he knew that this morning was not the time. He suspected that she would hear from Gordon soon, and he wanted to be there when she did.
After rounding the northern tip of West Maui, they stopped to get a view of the famous Nakalele blowhole. Laney hopped out of the car and stepped up beside him, and as had been happening all morning, he was unable to keep his eyes off her. She looked so lovely. The wind tossed her blond hair carelessly about her pretty face and ruffled her flowing skirt. And her bare shoulders — which had started out pale but were turning more golden brown by the hour — were beyond tantalizing. He truly couldn’t understand how he’d ever thought she wasn’t beautiful.
Perhaps his view had been colored by the enigma of her — by the gradual but steady reveal of the fun-loving sprite that recent fate and hardship had managed to all but obliterate. He saw more of the real woman every day, every time her mind was sufficiently distracted from her worries. And the more he saw of her, the more he wanted to see.
“Why aren’t you getting a sunburn?” he teased good-naturedly as they neared the overlook. “I mean, seriously… your hair is so light! How can you possibly tan like that?”
Her lips lifted into a fetching — and uncharacteristically shy — smile. “I don’t know,” she answered, giving a shrug to the delectable shoulders in question. “I’ve always tanned really easily.” Her smile turned sly. “Other women hate that.”
Jason laughed out loud. “I’ll bet they do.”
All morning they had maintained, by unspoken mutual agreement, a safe physical distance between them. There were no accidental shoulder bumps, no guiding hands on arms or backs. Just casual conversation and increasingly easy laughter. He was proud of the awesome job he’d been doing pretending that their explosive kiss on the lanai had never happened. But he was under no delusions about how long he could last. Once Laney’s whole impossible situation with her family was resolved, they were absolutely going to revisit that kiss. How they would get there from here he didn’t know. All he knew was that the promise of more was the only thing keeping him sane.
A sound like a giant wet cough, followed by a torrential spit, rent the air. It was coming from the next outcropping of cliff over, a few hundred yards away. They stopped and stared as a towering plume of frothy white water rose from a basin of black volcanic rock, sailed into the air, slowed, then crashed back down, draining away through rocky crevices to return to the sea.
“That is so cool,” Laney said with delight. “But it doesn’t look safe for those people to stand there.”
Jason grinned at her unintended irony. Several people in bathing suits were standing on the wet rocks near the blowhole’s opening. He’d heard that tourists sometimes perished here, swept off their feet and sucked down into the hole along with the returning water. Warning signs were ample, but routinely ignored. “Yes,” he said with obvious sarcasm. “How presumptuous of a tourist to think they know better than the locals what’s safe.”
Laney’s expression of wonder didn’t alter as she jabbed him playfully in the ribs. “Oh, shut up.”
Jason feigned a painful grunt with a smile. He knew she was fantasizing about how much fun it would be to be down there herself. Her lust for adventure was strong, if still largely untapped, and he longed to help her discover it. He wondered what had managed to suppress her inner adrenaline junkie this long, and suspected that chronic financial stress had certainly had something to do with it. But beyond that, her own positive character traits seemed to be at odds with each other. What was a thrill-seeking personality to do when it was also loyal, responsible, hard-working, and self-sacrificing?
Almost as if she could read his mind, Laney broke her gaze away from the intermittently erupting blowhole in order to check her phone. She’d been doing so all morning, though more frequently as time went on. He watched as her eyes flashed with disappointment. She dropped the phone in her bag and looked up again. But new worry lines remained on her forehead.
“He’ll call,” Jason assured.
Her blue eyes flickered his direction, but only briefly. She’d been unwilling to meet his gaze for any length of time since their argument.
The words she’d said to him then still stung. If she truly thought so little of him, why would she even want to be his friend? Her use of the words “the first time I laid eyes on you” had only added insult to injury, because unbeknownst to her, she’d actually rushed to judgment of him twice. Before the concussion she had dismissed him at a glance. At the hospital later she was polite but still wary. She’d known nothing about him then; he’d done nothing to deserve her censure. But as much as he’d like to write the whole thing off as her fault for being too judgy, he knew she wasn’t the only one.
As careful as he was not to misrepresent himself to the women he dated, people on the outside saw only one thing — a man who slept with a lot of women. Could he really expect Laney, or anyone else who didn’t yet know him, to assume he wasn’t a player?
But I never hit on her! He told himself, knowing the defense was bogus even as he floated it. On no planet would Laney assume that he was keeping his hands to himself because he was a nice guy who could read women well enough to know she wasn’t into hookups. What she would assume was that he wasn’t attracted to her. Women were idiotic like that.
His mind replayed their kiss, and he smiled to himself. At least there could be no more confusion on that score.
The sun was glinting off her newly bronzed shoulders. His lips were mere inches away from her smooth, supple skin. All he had to do was lower his head…
Laney jumped. Jason sprang back. He was an instant away from apologizing when he realized he hadn’t touched her. He hadn’t even moved.
Laney dropped her bag from her shoulder, dug around in it, and produced a vibrating phone. “Hello?” she said nervously, stepping toward their car.
Jason followed, keeping a polite distance behind, until a frantic gesture of her hand assured him she wanted him closer. As he neared, she held out the phone from her ear, enabling him to listen.
“Yes,” she said unsteadily. “This is Laney Miller. Thank you for getting back to me.”
“I understand you’d like to schedule a meeting,” a stern male voice boomed through the phone. “But as you can imagine, this is a rather difficult topic for us. It would be better if you could give me a little more information over the phone first.”
Jason watched with admiration as Laney drew in a breath and straightened her spine. Her next words were clear and direct. “I understand the delicacy of the situation. And I do sympathize. But no, I’m afraid there’s nothing else I can say right now. Speaking about something like this over the phone doesn’t feel right. But I’m happy to meet with you and your wife wherever and whenever you like, and I promise to be brief. I don’t want to upset you. I’m hoping that what I have to say, you’ll find comforting.”
There was a pause. Laney shot a glance at Jason, and he gave an encouraging nod.
“Well, if that’s the way it has to be,” Gordon replied finally, sounding disgruntled. “Needless to say, my wife is anxious to meet with you. Let’s meet at the Hula Beans coffee shop by Ma'alaea Harbor. Four o’clock.”
Laney’s shoulders slumped with relief. “That sounds perfect. I’ll be there. Thank you.”
“Yes. Four o’clock,” he repeated curtly. The line went dead.
Laney stood still a moment, breathing heavily. “Not exactly the warm, fuzzy type is he?”
“He was a CEO. I’m sure that’s the way he talks to everybody,” Jason assured. “Except the kids he takes out on his fishing boat. One dose of that voice and they’d probably jump overboard.” He kept his tone light, understanding her concern. Gordon Tremblay might be a loving family man. But he sounded like he could also be a formidable enemy.
Laney said nothing. When Jason saw her shaking, he didn’t think twice. He swept his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. For the first time all morning, the kiss and its aftermath fled his conscious mind, replaced with a fierce protectiveness. “Don’t worry,” he whispered in her ear, his heart warming as she clung to him without protest. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
***
Laney held her head high, determined not to tremble, as she swung open the door of the coffee shop at 3:55PM. The ambience was light, bright, and casual; the seating area nearly deserted. Gordon and Joan were already there, seated at a table for four in the far corner, two steaming but untouched mugs of coffee sitting in front of them.
Laney felt the comforting touch of Jason’s hand on the small of her back. She steeled herself. No cowering. You’ve done nothing wrong.
The reminder was necessary. Whatever she might be feeling or thinking about this moment, she knew that the Tremblays’ experience was in no way equivalent to her own. Whereas she was laying eyes for the first time on biological relatives, they were expecting to hear grim details about the body of a beloved family member, possibly preceded by a shameless attempt at extortion.
They looked the part. Gordon rose as they entered and placed one hand protectively — or commandingly? — on his wife’s shoulder, as if to say, “Don’t get up. I’ll handle this.” As Laney walked toward them, with Jason a step behind, Gordon’s cool blue eyes darted from one to the other, assessing them. His jaws were clenched, his forehead deeply lined. His whole countenance spoke of unquestioned authority.
The woman beside him seemed small and shriveled in comparison. She sat motionlessly, her face nearly white, her mouth drawn into a thin line. The only sign of life she emitted was the stare of the small, dark eyes behind her glasses, which fixed on Laney immediately and followed her every movement.
Laney kept walking. Never in her life had she felt a stronger desire to turn tail and run. But she had to do this thing. She smiled. “Mr. and Mrs. Tremblay. Hello. I’m Laney Miller.” She extended a hand. Don’t tremble!
Her hand trembled. It was also freezing cold. But if Gordon noticed, her distress had no effect on him. He reached out his own massive paw, gave her hand one firm shake, then quickly dropped it. His sharp eyes turned to the man beside her.
“Jason Buchanan,” Jason introduced, extending his own hand. The men shook.
“Pauley says you’re from Tofino,” Gordon remarked, making the comment sound like an accusation.
“Yes, sir,” Jason replied easily. “I own the Pacific Rim Surf Lodge at Chesterman Beach, and the Pacific Rim equipment rental in town.”
Gordon nodded, his face granting a modicum of respect. “I’ve heard of them. Pretty ambitious undertaking for a man your age.”
Jason smiled. “We’re doing well enough.”
Laney looked back at Joan. The woman sat motionless, saying nothing. She had not been introduced. The gaze she fixed on Laney was so penetrating that Laney averted her eyes. Did she know? Could she see it?
“Sit down,” Gordon ordered, rather than invited. He sat, and Jason and Laney followed. There was no mention of the newcomers ordering coffee. The Tremblays seemed not to notice their own.
Laney set down her bag, breathed deeply, and sat up straight. Emotional wreck though she might be, she would not allow Gordon Tremblay or anyone else to bully her. His hostile suspicion might be justifiable, but it was counterproductive to both her purpose and his own best interests. Besides which, no matter how rich, powerful, and intimidating he might be, as her Grandpa Auggie used to say, the man still puts his pants on one leg at a time.
“Before we go any further,” she proclaimed, keeping her voice soft even as she forced herself to make unflinching eye contact with Gordon. “I want both of you to know that I don’t want anything from you. Nothing at all. I only ask that you listen to what I have to say. Because for both our families’ sakes, it needs to be said. Then I’ll go. All right?”
Perhaps she was imagining the slight softening of the lines on Gordon’s forehead, the hint of human feeling that sparked deep within his otherwise cold eyes. She decided to assume the best. “I have no personal memory of the tornado that hit Peck in the spring of 1994,” she began. “I was too young. We’d only just moved there a couple days before it happened. My father had died in a military accident, and my mom, who’d grown up in Peck, wanted to move nearer to her parents. But all she could afford to rent was a mobile home, and it was no match for the tornado. It tipped over and was largely destroyed. We were lucky to survive with minor injuries.”
Laney turned to Joan. “I’m sorry that your daughter’s family wasn’t so lucky. From what I know of the tornado it sounds like there wasn’t anything they could have done that would have changed the outcome. Everyone in Peck felt horrible for them. I’ve heard that volunteers were out for days, looking everywhere for your
granddaughter’s remains.”
Joan still looked like a wax figure. No emotion whatsoever made its way to her face, and her eyes were difficult to read. She seemed frozen, petrified.
Laney felt a painful wave of sympathy. She knew what Joan expected her to say next. That some kids playing in a creek had found a skeleton, or that somebody’s dog had brought back a suspicious bone. But it was time now to rock the poor woman’s world — for better or worse. “I hadn’t spent much time in Peck before then, so people in town didn’t know me, but everyone knew my mother. When the trailer tipped, she was knocked unconscious, and when she woke up she found herself in her worst nightmare. She couldn’t find me, or our dog.”
“How old were you?” Joan murmured, her thin lips quivering. They were the first words she had spoken. Her face could not appear more bloodless.
“Twenty months,” Laney answered. “You can imagine how terrified my mother was. How frantic. All the neighbors dropped everything to help her look for me, even people whose own houses were torn apart. No one had any idea if I’d wandered off on my own while she was unconscious, if I was dead and buried somewhere under a pile of rubble, or even if—”
“Jessica!” Joan bolted upright, bumping the table and sloshing coffee out of the mugs. She clutched at her husband’s shoulder. “Gordon, it’s Jessica!” Her dark eyes burned with intensity and her sharp cheeks flared a ruddy color.
Gordon sprang up and threw a restraining arm around her shoulders. “Joan!” he rebuked, his voice sympathetic and chastising at the same time.
“Look at her!” his wife said emphatically, taking her eyes off Laney just long enough to glare at her husband. “Just look at her! She’s Elizabeth’s daughter, Gordon! Can’t you see it?”
Laney could neither move nor speak. She couldn’t even breathe.
Gordon’s countenance weakened, but only slightly. His gaze slid smoothly over Laney’s features before he turned his attention back to his wife. His words to her were warm, concerned. “Sweetheart, don’t do this. People look alike. You can’t jump to conclusions. Please, sit back down.”