Love Lost & Found (Surfside Romance Book 2)

by L. A. Justice

  Cara glanced up. “I thought everyone knew.”

  “I don’t have a clue. I’ve been busy.”

  “Cats.”

  “Cats? How is that romantic?”

  “It’s a cozy mystery.”

  “Oh. I didn’t get that from the title Hearts and Shadows.”

  Cara shrugged her shoulders and returned to her desk as Lana’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  Back at her cubicle, Alexa was surprised to find Zev Humphries making himself at home in her chair, picking at the fabric of the arm rest. He held the flyer for the discounted Miami Heat tickets in one hand and a wad of cash in the other. “I’ll take them if they’re still for sale.”

  She withdrew an envelope from her purse and handed it over. She tucked his damp twenties into her wallet wanting to do a happy dance. “Thanks and enjoy.”

  “I hear your book’s about basketball.” The chair groaned as he pushed himself up.

  “How do you know?”

  As he stroked his short beard, she noticed his fingernails were chewed to the quick. “I’m something of a basketball aficionado if you need any tips.”

  “Yes, that’s great. What about tomorrow after work?”

  At five minutes to five, an interoffice envelope landed on her desk, as if answering her question about Helen Parry’s fashion book. She didn’t open it. Instead, she tucked it into her messenger bag and headed home.

  She invited Zelda over for a simple salad and meatloaf sliders.

  “I expect Travis tonight,” she told them, her voice dropping to a whisper, her face flushed with excitement, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “I’m all tingles.”

  “Okay, but make sure he knows your name before he crawls into your bed,” warned Alexa.

  “Make him show you an ID,” Hannah joshed.

  After cleaning the kitchen, Alexa sat down to write.

  “How’s it going?” asked Hannah, grabbing a soda from the fridge.

  “Pretty good so far. I think I’ve got a handle on it.”

  “It’s about time.”

  Hannah walked behind her mom and glanced at the computer screen. “Jeez Louise!”

  Alexa shielded it with her hands. “In case you didn’t know, sex sells. We could be millionaires this time next year.”

  “Cheddar is dope, Mom.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Money’s good. I’ll need a car soon and I’ve got my heart set on a BMW. Everyone at school has one. I want to be one of the cool kids.”

  “You’re cool already.”

  “You have to say that, Mom.”

  “I do,” said Alexa. “But you are.”

  CHAPTER 48

  THE BELL rang at seven sharp on Saturday night. Luke stood in the doorway decked out in a navy suit, crisp white shirt, red-and-yellow striped tie, and a matching handkerchief in his breast pocket. She ushered him in with a chaste kiss, his woodsy cologne bringing back warm memories. She wondered why he was still single. Did he have a fundamental flaw she hadn’t yet uncovered? Even if he did, Alexa considered herself lucky to have found him. Luke had become a huge part of their lives.

  “Your Rent-a-Dad is here.”

  Zelda peeked out from behind him. “It’s like Cinderella going to the ball.”

  “Except that the prince met her at the castle,” Luke corrected her. “He didn’t pick her up like I’m doing.”

  For some reason, his statement prickled her. She took Zelda’s cool papery hand. “I name you Hannah’s fairy godmother. Without your help this would not be happening.”

  Luke let out a low wolf whistle as his “daughter for a night” emerged in a green scoop-neck dress with delicate ruffled cap sleeves. The layered tulle skirt fell in soft drapes over her budding hips. Instead of glass slippers, she wore beige kitten heels. With her unruly hair swept up and sprinkled with glitter, she glowed as bright as an emerald. He slipped a white orchid corsage on her wrist as Alexa snapped photos.

  He bowed, offering his arm. “Your chariot awaits.”

  Outside, they peered over the balustrade where a sleek black stretch limo idled under the vapor lights. “OMG!” Hannah shrieked and rushed downstairs.

  Luke kissed Alexa’s cheek and whispered in her ear. “I’ll get her home by midnight.”

  “Thanks for coming to the rescue.”

  “Your wish is my command.” He winked.

  Hannah slid onto the luxurious leather seat. “Buckle up,” said Alexa as Luke got in next to her. Zelda eyed the crystal decanters. “Is that booze?”

  “Sparkling cider,” said the uniformed chauffeur, closing the door with a gentle thud. Alexa waved, but saw only her smiling reflection in the darkly tinted windows. As the limo pulled away, she and Zelda climbed into her SUV to see a movie. Zelda urged her to hurry; she didn’t want to miss the coming attractions.

  Hours later, with her neighbor tucked in and Hannah still absent, Alexa sat down at the computer and transferred her dictated notes into the expanding document, changing the descriptions of the twins to buxom blondes, making them tall and full-figured like Sari. She wondered if the explicit sex scene she’d planned for chapter eight was asking for trouble. What had started as a flirty piece of fluff could now be titled Forty Shades of Seduction.

  Hope straddled Sinclair as he closed his eyes and moaned. She was on him like cream cheese on a bagel.

  Cream cheese on a bagel? Honey on toast? Frosting on a cake?

  “Wouldn’t he realize it was the wrong twin?” she said aloud before answering her own question. “No way, he’s getting laid, what does he care?”

  Her fingers pounded the keys.

  They tumbled off the couch and onto the floor, their sweat-drenched bodies joined together from lips to hips when the front door opened and someone said, “What the hell…”

  Her front door suddenly flew open. Hannah twirled into the room, her face aglow. “We caught fire, didn’t we Daddy-O?”

  They high-fived each other. “Yep, we were swerving.”

  “Swerving?” Alexa made a face.

  “Yeah Mom. Can I get an amen?”

  “Amen,” said Luke. “It was a bazillion times better than good.”

  “We killed it on the dance floor.”

  “I’m glad you had fun, honey. It makes me so happy to see you smile like this—and you look gorgeous.”

  Hannah asked Luke, “Do you want to stay over?”

  Alexa’s eyes narrowed, she cleared her throat, and glanced at Luke. “Excuse me?”

  “I saw his sneakers here the other night,” Hannah grinned knowingly. “It’s Gucci.”

  “That means cool,” Luke explained. “I learned a whole new language tonight.”

  Hannah rose on tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks Pops, it was lit. There’s Mom, go get her.”

  Luke took Hannah’s hand and kissed it gallantly. “We’re tight. Am I right, ladies?”

  “Yeah, swag.”

  Luke pulled Alexa out of her seat, cradling her head, tilting her backward and planting a wet one on her lips. He stood her upright and walked to the door.

  “Tonight was hashtag badass!”

  “LOL,” said Hannah as the door closed. She took off the wrist corsage and laid it on the table. “You really should make a better effort to keep him this time. Don’t mess it up again.”

  Surprised at the accusation, Alexa stiffened. “Let’s not do this dance sweetie. I don’t want to lose Luke anymore than you do. But men are complicated.”

  “No, they’re quite simple. They like sex and sports.”

  “Is that what you talked about in the limo?”

  “We talked about everything. He wants to take Doc to a Miami Heat game. Of course we’d be invited too.”

  “Really?”

  This was the reason Alexa didn’t do impulsive things, why she thought everything through and weighed the pros and cons. The night she bought the tickets she’d left her common sense at the front door. But Zev had bought the tickets so
she could stop kicking herself—at least for that.

  “I told him you were writing a book about a basketball player,” said Hannah. “He sounded relieved.”

  “You mean that the protagonist wasn’t a lumberjack.”

  “The pro what?”

  “Protagonist. The main character.”

  “Maybe. Anyway, play it cool. I’m going to give you some leeway here, but for cripes sake don’t blow it again.”

  “Don’t you want to pat my head and scratch behind my ears?”

  “Not really. Write your book. Make millions. Just be cool with Luke. I’d be okay if he’s my new dad.”

  Alexa gulped hard and stared blankly at her daughter. Who was she? What was happening?

  CHAPTER 49

  WHILE HANNAH was in her room uploading her photos to Facebook and Instagram, Alexa was in the zone: the creative space where her brain unspooled like a movie, fingertips flying across the keyboard at warp speed. It was after midnight when her cellphone chirped. Picking it up quickly, she purred into the receiver, “Hey lover boy.”

  “Back at ya lover girl. What’cha up to?”

  The unexpected voice from Portland sent shivers up her arm.

  “Um-uh writing.”

  “Are you sure? You didn’t sound sure.”

  She didn’t want to say she expected someone else’s voice. Instead, she said, “Sure I am.”

  “Is it about me, something sexy perhaps? Do I curl your toes?”

  “Hannah and I were just talking about Teena. Did I conjure you up?”

  “I can’t get you out of my head.”

  “Then get a new head.”

  “Ha-ha. No, really. I keep thinking of us.”

  She liked Rick Harlow, liked him a lot. But there was no “us” and there was always a “but.”

  His deep, throaty voice resonated in her ear. “You know attractions are more than just physical. We have chemistry, baby, buckets of it.”

  “I suppose.” She didn’t want to encourage his lopsided fantasies when there was no possible way of ever being together. Besides, she’d just promised Hannah she wouldn’t mess it up with Luke. They’d even done a pinkie swear.

  Plus her big fat weekend alone with Luke was rapidly approaching and she hoped it would produce an “I love you,” or even a small friendship ring. He hadn’t quite said the words yet, but she knew he was close. It was definitely a possibility.

  “Listen Rick. I’d like to talk but I’m on a roll with the writing and I’d really like to get back into the story.”

  She almost added, maybe we can chat another time, but refrained. What was the point? It would only create another snag. But instead of saying goodnight, he was back on the line talking fast.

  “So let me guess: guy meets girl, loses girl, gets her back, loses her again, but they end up together on the last page. Am I close? God, I pray I’m close. It would be such a great ending. And you can make it happen. Only you can do it Alexa.”

  In the background she heard a laugh, more like a harsh cackle. “Are you at a bar?”

  “Could be that I’m a little drunk. But I can still feel you in my arms.”

  Although sitting down, her knees felt weak as visions of the lumberjack flashed like lightning, illuminating the room: the kisses, the ring, his body pressing against hers.

  “It’s late Rick. I’ve got to go.”

  “I want to buy a copy of your book. Hell, ten copies, maybe a hundred.”

  “It’s not even written. I’m hanging up now. Take care.”

  “But we have a love story for the ages. You should tell it. You’ve got to!”

  After disconnecting she sat back limp as a rag doll. Her coast-to-coast life was a jigsaw puzzle. Logically speaking, she saw no reason to feel guilty, but she did—as though she’d been disloyal to Luke for talking to an old friend who happened to be a man. She closed the computer, picked up a green pen to correct Helen Parry’s book about fashion. She opened the interoffice envelope hoping to divert her attention to something less risky than picturing Rick naked and rock hard.

  Shaking out Helen’s new pages, a plain white envelope also tumbled to the desk. She picked it up and turned it over. Inside were five crisp one-hundred dollar bills, each with a blue ribbon just to the right of Ben Franklin’s face. Fanning them out, she wondered if this was part of the hidden stash of purloined money acquired by Helen’s convicted husband, or if she’d squirreled it away from her paycheck. Either way the gesture was appreciated.

  The next morning, she deposited the bills in the ATM on her way to work and picked up coffee and a doughnut. No sooner had she taken a sip when Lana materialized. A paperback thudded onto her desk. The proof book had a white cover with black block lettering and the words Hearts and Shadows.

  “Wait, this book is yours.” Alexa looked up puzzled.

  “It should’ve won the contest and not Cara’s. But hey, it’s getting published. Only two of us can say that.”

  “Why are you giving it to me?”

  “Bryan wants you to double check it.”

  Lana’s lime green sweater and yin/yang pendant made her appear almost normal, except for the faint aroma of cat urine. “We need it tomorrow at noon, so stay up all night if you have to.”

  Alexa picked up a green felt pen. Lana clicked her tongue. “You won’t need that. The book is perfect as written.”

  With Lana tucked back in her office and a pen in her hand, Alexa flipped over the cover, the dedication page, which had the notation TKTK—to come, to come—followed by a blank page for the disclaimer and publishing information. On another page, a solitary quote was centered halfway down: Curiosity killed the cat.—Ben Johnson

  Chapter One: The black cat named PeeWee sat side-by-side with Powder Puff, a pure white angora, both staring out the window at a blotch of red in the newly fallen snow. Nearby lay the body of their owner, Jane Qwinlan, a sweet older woman who’d adopted both of them from the shelter when they were kittens. They didn’t know what had happened—why she was lying in the white stuff, why her coat was open and her purse was tossed to the side. They’d seen a man chase her down the street and swing something at her. They watched as cans of food scattered. Powder Puff meowed. She was hungry. PeeWee rubbed against her, licked her ear, and settled down to wait.

  Alexa sat back stunned. She pressed on, turning pages without adding a comma or semicolon. This was insane. Insane! How did Lana learn to write like this? As the hours evaporated, she discovered one minor mistake the average reader would never have noticed: the word bad, which should have been had, a simple error easily fixed.

  The plot thickened with mounting suspense as the police came and taped off the crime scene as Powder Puff and PeeWee watched intently. Someone entered the house, fed them, and said, “Good kitties. We’re sorry about this, but we’ll find you both good homes.”

  Powder Puff replied with “Yow,” and PeeWee squeaked out a faint “Ik ik ik.”

  Something rustled in the back of Alexa’s brain. She’d heard those cat sounds before, read them somewhere. Now she understood why Frost picked this as his second choice. It wasn’t a bubbly, flirty romance, but cats were a cash cow. She owned a few at one time, but they usually said “Meow” not “Yow” and especially not “Ik ik ik.”

  Even so, this would be a chart-topper and maybe a movie. She pictured that singer from America’s Got Talent, the one from Scotland, Susan something-or-other, playing the role of the ill-fated Jane Qwinlan. She was certain Lana would follow this up with the sequel and win the grand prize for this year’s contest. Her heart sank.

  At five o’clock, she packed up the manuscript, took her purse and messenger bag, and drove home wondering if she was resentful or green-eyed with envy. Either way, like any first-rate reporter, she had the feverish need to uncover the truth.

  CHAPTER 50

  LUKE AND Hannah stood in Zelda’s kitchen. He held a small object in his hand. “What’s that?” Zelda asked.

  “A video camera.�
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  “Watching yourself have sex is so much better in your mind,” she said with a straight face. Hannah blushed violently and avoided eye contact.

  Luke’s mouth dropped open. “Say what?”

  Zelda smiled. “Just an old joke.”

  “Not funny.”

  “Did you eat your sense of humor for dinner last night?”

  “We want to find out who’s stealing your things. Is anything else missing?”

  “My car keys and photo album.”

  Hannah walked to the bookshelf. “She’s right. It’s gone. But who’d want it?”

  “Maybe someone with a secret crush on me.”

  Luke set the camera on the counter. “Let’s hope this helps.”

  “So you’re spying on me.”

  “For you. There’s a big difference.”

  “What if I walk around naked?”

  “We’ll get an eyeful.”

  “It won’t be pretty.”

  “It’s a chance we have to take.”

  Luke invited Hannah to join them for frozen yogurt, but she demurred saying she had to study. At home, she slipped quietly past her mother. “How’s it going?”

  “I’m sorry to say Lana’s book is almost perfect, just a few misspelled words. But something’s not right.”

  Hannah pulled a soda from the refrigerator. “Want anything?”

  “Water would be great.”

  She placed a bottle on the table. “Like what?”

  “It’s a cozy mystery about two cats who witness a murder.”

  “When we lived up north, you loved books like that. I think the author was Lilly Brown and she had some old guy who solved mysteries.”

  Alexa stared at her daughter. “That’s it! But it was Lilian Jackson Braun. I’m surprised nobody noticed.”

  “Did she use the same cats?”

  “That would’ve been too obvious.”

  “What’s the title?”

  “Hearts and Shadows.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “It should’ve been Hearts and Meow Mix or Shadows and Kitty Litter. But nobody asked me.”

  “Are you gonna say something?”

  “I suppose the company could get sued. What do you think?”