Shark Bite

by K L Montgomery

My heart is pounding as her words soak in. “Yes, ma’am, it’s our family business. It’s been in my family for generations.”

  “I guess I don’t understand why you require a loan? Wouldn’t the business be given to you by your parents or another relative? Passed down to you? The application states it’s to purchase the property from the current owner.” The confusion is evident in her voice.

  Megan approaches me with her eyebrows raised, her curiosity obviously piqued. I hold a finger up and try to shoo her away. “Well, first, I don’t recall submitting the application, and I have no idea about the letters. Who are they from?”

  I have to restrain myself from gasping when she answers, “A Dr. Walter Byrd, Veterinarian; a Mr. Meric Chandler, owner of Meric Chandler, CPA; a Mr. and Mrs. Martin Adams of the Adams Family Pharmacy; and a Mr. Matt Cameron of Rehoboth Beach Buddies. Do those names sound familiar to you, Mr. Kelly?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I manage, swallowing down the emotions threatening to rumble up my throat.

  “So you’re saying you didn’t submit this application? Did one of the aforementioned community members submit it on your behalf?” she questions.

  “I guess so, ma’am. I’m sorry. You’re calling on a Saturday. I’m a little taken aback.”

  “A rush was put on this paperwork—and it had to have come from higher up the chain. I’m working a little overtime, trying to clear my queue of applications, that’s all,” she tells me. “But you didn’t answer my question about whether or not you need the loan in the first place.”

  “I do,” I choke out. “My father isn’t leaving the business to me. He’s forcing me to buy him out. Otherwise, the family business is done for, and he’s selling the property. The carriages, which are priceless historical artifacts, will be relegated to a museum, when they are in good working order and provide immeasurable joy to members of the community.” Listen to me! I sound like Megan is in my ear coaching me! She’d be so proud.

  I glance over, and she’s definitely eavesdropping. She gives me two thumbs up and an enthusiastic smile.

  “Well, we plan to approve the loan,” she tells me, “but I wanted to get some clarification.”

  As soon as the words leave her mouth, a wave of relief rushes over me so fast, it nearly takes my breath away.

  “You still there, Mr. Kelly?” she asks after a few seconds of silence pass between us.

  “Yes, yes, I’m still here, and oh, Ms. Dennison, you won’t regret it. Thanks for taking a chance on me—I know I don’t have the kind of credit score and assets you like to see when loaning this kind of cash.”

  “Maybe not, sir, but these letters of reference are impeccable. And Dr. Walter Byrd pledged fifty thousand dollars to invest in the company in his letter of support as well. Any business that has that kind of support is a business Coastal Delaware Bank wants to back!”

  Now those tears I was fighting a moment ago are stinging at my eyes again, and the look on Megan’s face proves she knows exactly what’s going on. She’s completely silent but jumping up and down, whooping and hollering on the inside. I know as soon as I hang up this phone, she’s going to go nuts. Maybe not as nuts as my stepmom will go, though.

  “What do I need to do now?” I try to keep my voice calm and steady, but it’s a challenge to contain my excitement.

  “Stop by on Monday to sign everything,” she tells me. “We’ll close in two weeks.”

  “That’s incredible. Thank you again!”

  I hang up, and I don’t get a word out of my mouth before Megan launches herself into my arms, and I pick her up and swirl her around me before planting another kiss right on her lips. For a guy who hates PDAs, I don’t even seem to notice everyone is staring at us.

  Kathy comes up behind us. “Well? Is it true?”

  Apparently Megan told her about the application, which I guess she took from my house. And then she organized the letters, and somehow got a rush put on this thing. I have no idea how she did all of it, but she did. And she’s amazing.

  “Shay, you have demonstrated many times over that you care more for others than yourself,” my stepmom says as a curious crowd gathers around us. “Even today you saved not one but two lives, more than likely! The very least we could do is save your legacy. You deserve it, honey. You deserve it all!”

  I let go of Megan to wrap my arms around Kathy again, kissing her on the cheek as everyone cheers. A split second later I hear, “Excuse me.”

  We whip around to see the realtor and her clients, a well-dressed, middle-aged couple, approaching our group. “What’s going on here today? I was told it would be okay to show my clients the property this afternoon.”

  “We’re having a carnival here in about thirty minutes,” Megan announces. “So you might want to wrap up your tour.”

  “Well, it’s not very becoming to have a huge event on the property when clients are trying to determine interest in purchasing it,” the realtor says in her snotty voice, flipping her bleach blonde hair over her shoulder.

  “It’s not very becoming to show a property which is now OFF THE MARKET!” Megan fires back. “Seriously. Scram. It’s been sold. Thank you! Okay, buh-bye.” She waves and blows them a kiss as the realtor scoffs and tries to stomp off, but her high heels keep sinking into the mud from the recent rain.

  As soon as we’re rid of them, I drive the truck down to the end of the driveway, rip the for sale sign out of the ground, and replace it with a sign that says “CARNIVAL!” Megan hops out of the truck with a huge bunch of balloons and ties them to the sign.

  “So, what do you think?” I pull her toward me, hoping to sneak in another kiss.

  “I think you’re going to make a great new owner and president of Kelly Carriage Company!” she exclaims.

  “You know what my first act as CEO will be?” I lean down and kiss her cheek.

  “What’s that? New barn?” Her eyelashes flutter, and her green and copper eyes glow as she looks up at me.

  “Hiring a full-time PR person,” I answer. “Know anyone?”

  I don’t remember going to carnivals or fairs, stuff like that, when I was a kid. We went to the beach and the boardwalk quite a bit when I lived in Delaware, and I was allowed to play a few games in the arcade. But I’ve never seen anything like this. There are food trucks spread across the pavement near the barn, and the petting zoo has been erected on the other side. There are tents and kids everywhere. A hot air balloon with a vibrant rainbow pattern is floating over the treetops. The opposing rugby team even stayed to help deconstruct everything in the Legion parking lot and reassemble everything here. It was great to have an extra twenty or so pairs of hands. And now they’re having a blast, playing right alongside the kids and their parents. A few volunteered to take a turn in the dunk-a-rugby-player tank we rented. I even saw one of them with his face painted like a tiger—their mascot.

  Megan reaches down and grabs my hand, squeezing it in her smaller, softer one. At least I was able to run inside and grab a quick shower. She doesn’t seem squeamish or put off by dirt or sweat, so that’s a plus.

  “My ex would have never come to something like this with me,” she points out as we walk between the tents, dodging strollers and wayward toddlers.

  “No?” She has barely said anything about her ex. I only know she was married for about five years and got divorced three years ago.

  “He was an asshole. We don’t talk about him. But if you want to know anything, just ask. If you’re going to spill your guts about your past, then so will I,” she tells me. “I believe in fairness and equality.”

  I chuckle at her straightforwardness. She’s nothing if not blunt. “I don’t need to know anything. I mean, he’s obviously an asshole if he let you go. A stupid asshole.”

  She stops mid-stride and brushes a kiss against my cheek. “I know you don’t like PDA, but I’m gonna win you over eventually.”

  “I don’t seem to be able to keep my hands off you anyway.” My laughter fills the air. I haven’
t laughed this much in so long. I feel light. Nothing weighing me down. And I don’t know that I have ever been able to say that.

  “I feel like Danny and Sandy at the school carnival in Grease!” She giggles and swings our connected hands up into the air and back down again.

  “I have no idea what you mean by that, but okay.”

  “You’ve never seen Grease?” Her eyes bulge as she looks up at me.

  “Is that a musical?”

  “Uh, yes, of course it is. Only one of the greatest musicals of all time!”

  “I don’t like musicals.”

  She scoffs at me. “How can you like 80s music and not musicals? 80s music is even cheesier than musicals!”

  Like it was cued up on the DJs sound deck, ready to go, Madonna’s “Crazy for You” starts to flow out of the speakers. I’d almost forgotten that Declan had installed a sound system out here for when we do weddings. It was a new revenue stream Kathy cooked up a couple of years ago, and it has been profitable so far. That one tiny thought of “weddings” gives me a momentary flash of what Megan might look like in a wedding dress.

  Pretty sure that’s putting the cart before the horse, but that’s not hard to do when you own a carriage company.

  “Where’d you go?” She stops walking again and pulls me to face her. “You just zoned out.”

  “Sorry, I was thinking about how I can’t believe I’m going to own this place.” Her eyes sparkle as she soaks in my words. “I can’t believe you submitted my loan application and didn’t even tell me.”

  “After I found out what you did for Max, I figured you deserved someone to do something nice for you too.”

  “I appreciate it, Megan.” I bend down and press a kiss right to her lips. A small, innocent one. I mean, there are kids around.

  “Shaaaaaaaark!” All the sudden I have a small creature attached to me. I look down to find Max. Apparently we summoned him by mentioning his name.

  His mom, Sheila, is standing there holding Max’s little sister’s hand. “Hey, there. I’m glad we found you! I didn’t get a chance to thank you for what you did for Max a couple of weeks ago.”

  “I miss you, Shark!” Max steps back. “When can we hang out again?”

  “I don’t know, buddy. I’ve taken a break from Beach Buddies for now.”

  Max’s lip pooches out in a pout. “But why?”

  Like we also summoned Matt when we said “Beach Buddies,” he sidles up next to me, a kid on his shoulders. “We’d love to have you back on the Beach Buddies team, man.”

  “Really?” I look up at him. After the incident with Max, he didn’t seem to mind if I played on the rugby team, his organization’s partner, but he didn’t invite me to stay on as a Big Buddy.

  “So does that mean I can see you next week?” Max pipes up, his lips curled in a hopeful smile.

  I give him a playful punch on the arm. “Guess so, Little Buddy!”

  “I’m so glad!” Sheila exclaims. “Thank you, Mr. Cameron. Max didn’t even want to try a new Big Buddy. He only wants Shark.”

  Matt offers up a smirk. “I can see why. He’s a pretty special guy.”

  After they all leave, Megan notices her phone is ringing. “Oh, crap!” She dives for her pocket. “It’s Drew!” She scrambles to answer it.

  I watch her face for clues to how Sonnet is doing, and she’s so animated, her eyebrows moving every which way, her lips in a frown, then straight, then smiling. It’s impossible to know what Drew is saying.

  She hangs up and turns toward me, fortunately not holding me in suspense any longer. “He said they got her stabilized. They want to keep the baby in there for longer if they can keep her blood pressure down, but they’re giving her some sort of steroid injections to help the baby’s lung development in case they need to deliver early.”

  I nod. “That’s good. I’m glad she can bake that little guy a little longer.”

  “What makes you think it’s a boy?” She purses her lips as she stares at me, the copper centers of her eyes glowing.

  I shrug. “Just a feeling.”

  “I think it’s a girl.” She huffs out a breath. “But I think Meric and Lindy are having a boy.”

  “What are you, like physic or something?”

  She giggles. “No, just a good guesser.”

  Madonna fades out and Whitney Houston’s “Saving All My Love For You” starts up. I always had a thing for Whitney.

  “How did you get them to play 80s music?” she teases me. “I mean, really? This music is so forty years ago!”

  “Bite your tongue, woman! This is the greatest music ever made.” I don’t know why I love it so much. I just do. Always have.

  Funny, it’s kind of the way I feel about her too.

  25

  “Oh, the Cape Gazette finally ran the article about the carnival!” I shriek as I run from the front door to the living room where Shark is reclined on the sofa with his feet up on the ottoman. He worked a twelve-hour shift, and he’s beat, but my excitement cannot be contained.

  “I’m sure they said it was a raving success,” he murmurs in his zombie-like state.

  “Ahhhh, listen to this!” I clear my throat as I read the opening lines, “On October twelfth, Rehoboth Riptide Men’s Rugby Club and Beach Buddies hosted a children’s carnival with a petting zoo, carriage rides, a hot air balloon, dunk tank, and lots of fun, games, and food. Despite a last-minute venue change, the event, which took place at Kelly Carriage Company in Georgetown was a big hit with youngsters and adults alike. Organizer Megan Adams had this to say about the event: ‘Beach Buddies and rugby are both about bringing people together. Both have a real team culture to them. Actually it’s more than just a team. They’re like family, you know? There’s nothing a rugby player won’t do for a fellow teammate, and the same with Beach Buddies. It’s a natural affinity for these two organizations to come together to provide safe, fun, family-friendly entertainment for the youngest members of our community.’”

  “That’s perfect, Megan. Congratulations,” he manages, with a little more volume behind his weary voice. “I’m really proud of you, babe. Do you want to go take a nap with me?”

  I scoff, “You know very well what happens when we try to take a nap together.” There’s no sleeping going on, that’s what. I don’t have to tell him, though; he’s fully aware.

  “I’m pretty sure this time I’ll fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow,” he predicts.

  “Come on, then.” I try yanking him upright, nearly falling forward when his huge bicep contracts, pulling me down toward him. “God, you’re strong!”

  “Mmmhmmm, keep talkin’ babe. Take me to bed or lose me forever…” he quotes from Top Gun. Since the carnival, he made me watch that after I forced him to watch Grease. I’d say we’re even now.

  “I’m pretty sure Goose’s wife didn’t mean taking a nap.” I laugh as we walk down the hall to his bedroom.

  “So what did your boss say when you tendered your resignation yesterday?” he asks me when we settle down in bed.

  “Well, she was very apologetic about the permit.” I roll my eyes. She had some flimsy excuse like they must have lost it, and then she tried to put it on me for not following up. Which, in retrospect, I should have, but I also trusted she’d get it done since she promised me she would. “She’d already heard about the carnival, even though it wasn’t in the paper yet.”

  “Oh, yeah? Good things?”

  “Of course! Great things!” I correct him. He chuckles. “She offered me an account manager position and a twenty percent raise.”

  “That’s fantastic!”

  “It is, but I have a feeling my new job as Kelly Carriage Company Public Relations Director and Event Coordinator is going to be so much better.”

  “Oh, yeah?” His eyebrow lifts as his eyes bore into mine. Hard to tell if they’re half-closed from exhaustion or desire at this point. But I’m willing to bet it’s the latter.

  “Yeah. Much better fringe
benefits too…” I stroke my fingers up his thigh, then up his bare chest—he never wears a shirt at home, oh darn!—and finally across his cheek.

  “What kind of fringe benefits?” His voice is nothing but a needy rasp when it comes out.

  “I can show you…or would you rather sleep?”

  “Eh, sleeping is overrated…”

  “Mmmmhmmmmm…that’s what I thought…”

  “I can’t believe Sonnet already had her baby!” Lindy says, patting her own swollen belly. “I may be a little jealous.”

  “Well, she had quite the ordeal the past few weeks, being on bed rest and trying to keep her blood pressure down,” I remind my best friend. “And now she has a preemie.”

  “The most adorable preemie I’ve ever seen!” Lindy corrects. The four of us: Lindy, me, Meric and Shark, are headed to the hospital to meet the sweet little newborn bundle who weighed in barely over five pounds and, fortunately, had a very short stay in the NICU, thanks to the lung development steroids. The family will be going home tomorrow.

  “Pre-eclampsia is no joke,” Shark points out from the front passenger seat. “I’m really glad everything turned out okay.”

  “The doctors said if you and my mom hadn’t acted so quickly, she might have lost the baby—or even died,” I point out. “I don’t know what we would have done if you weren’t both there.”

  “Walt would have figured something out,” Shark argues.

  “He’s not used to treating humans!” I scoff.

  “Dogs, cats, humans. He’s still a doctor.” Shark shrugs.

  Meric makes a turn into the hospital parking lot. “Well, here’s a silver lining: they’ll get to claim the baby on this year’s taxes!”

  “Spoken like a true accountant!” Lindy teases him. “Don’t think you’re going to get so lucky with this one.” She pats her belly and purses her lips. Then I need to pat her belly too—for good measure.

  “I’m just glad everyone is okay. And if I ever have a baby, I pray everything goes extra smooth,” I announce, hoping a certain someone might say something to the effect of “You mean, when you have a baby.” But he’s silent. Drat.