by Shady Grace
Terry reached across the table and patted her forearm, hearing these words for the first time. He hadn’t realized until now that maybe his father had been hard on more people than just his son. But why would she tell him now? His father was dead, and he couldn’t turn back time. “I’m sorry.” He truly meant it. “But what would you want me to do? Everything is taken care of, as it always has been.”
“But I can do many things. I know people—”
Terry’s gaze drifted to the doorway, and his mind went blank.
He blinked, not quite believing who stood there looking like a flower rising in the desert, surrounded by cacti.
Terry didn’t even feel Wanda pull her arm away as he stared in complete shock and awe at the beauty walking toward their table.
Her hair was piled high with a few ringlets framing her face. Silver earrings shimmered under the lights. A frothy white gown, tied around her neck and tapered down, barely covered her pert breasts and flowed like water down to her heeled feet.
He pushed up from his chair and pulled out hers. “Wow,” was all he managed to say as Mary gracefully took her seat. Holy flying fuck.
“Thank you.”
Johnathan arrived within seconds of Mary taking her seat. Terry had a hard time containing his disappointment that he couldn’t comment more on her beauty before the goddamned waiter arrived. He sat in pouting silence as the girls fussed over each other like a couple of hens.
“Champagne, Mrs. Billings?”
And that fucking name.
Mary glanced at Terry, an odd expression on her beautiful face, before she looked back up at Johnathan. “Please, call me Miss Lector.”
Terry shoved forward, suddenly interested to speak. “Lector? As in the serial killer from those movies?”
Wanda gasped in outrage and Mary chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not one in the same. Lector is my maiden name. My new driver’s license, health card, and other documents arrived two days before I came here. Right in the nick of time. I’m officially a Lector again. It feels good.” Her smile was simply stunning.
Terry pushed his seat back. “Excuse me for a minute, ladies. I need to make a quick call.” He walked away from the table, heart pounding, as he pulled his cell out of his pocket and dialed her number.
He held his breath as the answering machine kicked in.
“Hi. You’ve reached Mary Lector. I’m out at the moment, but please leave a message and I’ll get back to you when I can. If this is a wildlife emergency please notify the ministry immediately. Thank you.”
Terry returned to the table, smiling like a man who just received the best blowjob ever. He took his seat and listened in as Wanda asked Mary a few personal questions.
“Tell me about your family, sweetheart.”
Mary fidgeted with her napkin, a sign he knew she must be nervous. “Well, let’s see. I’m an only child. My parents divorced when I was a teenager, and Mom moved to Florida for the weather.”
Wanda smiled in wonder. “Florida is beautiful. I especially love the beaches in Miami. And your father, did he stay in this…Sliver Point?”
The troubled expression on Mary’s face worried Terry, as well as her stiff body language. Her father must be a sore spot, as Terry’s was for him.
But like a trooper, Mary lifted her chin slightly. “Silver Creek, not Sliver Point. And yes, my father is there.”
“How is he? What is he like?” Wanda asked, totally unaware that her questions were quickly becoming too much for Mary. Terry was about to put a stop to it, but Mary reached under the table and put her hand on his knee.
“He lives deep in the bush away from any human contact. I haven’t seen him since I was a young girl.” She cleared her throat and took a healthy sip of champagne before she continued. “He lost his marbles after Nam.”
Terry stared hard at Mary. He had no idea about her family life. Why hadn’t he asked her these things before? He was so caught up in wanting to take her to bed, he never considered finding out about these important facts about her life. He felt like an asshole. A horny dog who couldn’t see beyond taking her clothes off.
Wanda seemed bent on getting to the bottom of the woman who’d captured Terry’s interest. “Ah, I see. Your mother left when he went crazy?”
“Wanda, that’s enough,” Terry warned. “This is supposed to be a nice family dinner, not an interrogation.”
“It’s okay.” Mary squeezed his knee, and turned back to Wanda. “No, she didn’t leave him then. The voices didn’t get really bad until the eighties, shortly after I was born. One random fall day he took his rifle and we never saw him again. My mother may as well have been a widow all those years. As much as I love my dad, I will never try to find him. His only peace is quiet, and I respect that.”
Terry took a deep breath and stared at Mary with new eyes. Even though she’d lived a rugged lifestyle, he thought her upbringing must have been relatively easy. Who would’ve guessed small town life wasn’t a stroll in the park? Now he knew better. Now he understood her more.
“My mother was granted a divorce several years after his abandonment. But enough about me.” Mary pulled her hand away from his knee. “Tell me about your family, Wanda.”
Terry’s lip twitched in amusement as Mary put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her fist. The view from his seat was simply stunning, and cute all at once. He imagined she felt awkward as hell, sitting there in a five star restaurant, wearing a beautiful gown and high heels, in the company of powerful, and very rich people.
And she was a trapper.
A mountain woman.
His little minx who shot a beaver in the back of the head.
For the first time in a long time, Terry felt at ease. He settled back in his chair, content to simply watch her, not really listening to Wanda’s story. He casually sipped his champagne, enjoying the atmosphere and the company. Despite the depressing turn of events, he sorely needed a nice, quiet night with the people he loved.
“. . . difficult for young women . . . most of my brothers are gone . . . many poor people in my country.”
He frowned and sat straighter. “I thought you were from Los Angeles.”
“I am, darling.” She winked. “But I wasn’t always a rich girl.”
Terry settled back in his seat again, watching in silence until their dinner arrived. He never realized Wanda lived a poor life in her younger years. As far as he knew, she was a spoiled rich girl who knew his mother from back in the day. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t know much about Wanda at all, or that she once had brothers.
His stepmother had always treated him like her own son, and no matter what fell into her lap in this crazy family life of theirs, she always held her head high and made him feel loved. But hearing her speak of a past he knew nothing about alerted him to the fact that maybe Wanda wasn’t who she claimed to be.
Why bring these details out now?
He had always been overworked and overtired to pay much attention to his father’s second wife, or anything that had nothing to do with business.
As dinner was served, he quietly contemplated digging up her background, but shook off the notion. Wanda was a good woman and loved Colton very much. If not for her his father would’ve died of loneliness after his mother passed away.
Wanda was the string holding them all together.
As they finished dinner and Wanda took her leave to return home, Terry ushered Mary back upstairs and made urgent love to her on the couch, with that sexy dress shoved up around her neck.
* * * *
Thick clouds blanketed the sky with the sun peeping out now and then as Mary ventured down the hotel steps and headed toward The Bay Centre around the corner. After leafing through several guides Terry left for her to browse, she’d discovered that Victoria had some of the best shopping around. The Centre covered an entire city block with over ninety street front shops and many more inside.
As much as she wanted a walk along
the water she also craved an entire day spoiling herself in these shops. When she finally had the nerve to count the money Gabe had given her, she was overwhelmed and flattered that he’d handed over ten-thousand dollars to her for doing absolutely nothing. Would she ever get used to that much money kicking around? Even Gabe had acted as if that much coin meant nothing at all.
Still, she couldn’t help her excited grin at finally being able to do something she’d never experienced before—real shopping.
Maybe later she’d take a stroll through the market since Terry’s fridge was filled with beer and a few plates from the restaurant, wrapped in foil. He clearly needed proper food instead of constant room service or takeout from a fast food joint.
The sidewalk teamed with locals and tourists. Half the people who passed her by had cameras at the ready, and all smiles. She couldn’t help one of her own as a pudgy little boy with chocolate smeared all over his face, ran up to his mommy and yanked at her skirt.
“When do we get to see the killer wales, Mum?”
“Maybe you should be watching the water instead of packing in all that sugar,” the mother said, and rustled his white-blond hair.
Mary stared at the little boy and imagined a younger Terry.
He was an innocent boy at one time too. When did everything change?
She contemplated this as she continued onward, wishing Terry could join her instead of all these meetings he had to attend.
She’d left home to be with him, only to be alone anyway. But she didn’t let that cloud her mind. She was in a new world, free to enjoy the scenery unlike her own back home. Besides, he’d lost his father and inherited an empire. She understood he had business to tend to. She just needed to keep busy as well until he could spend more time with her.
She passed a cart filled with freshly caught fish. She chatted briefly with the owner of the booth and decided on the way back to Terry’s apartment she’d purchase a salmon for dinner.
Mary was overwhelmed by the constant hustle and bustle around her. From fresh food to jewelry to every style of art. Carvings, crafts, clothing, music in the streets, you name it, and she hadn’t even reached the mall yet.
She weaved around people, lost amidst the crowd, before she saw a familiar face dashing across the street. A handsome face she’d never forget.
Not having anyone else to chat with she picked up her pace and followed him. What harm could come from asking him to join her for coffee?
He moved stealthily through the crowd, his crisp black suit stark amidst the colorful tones of everyone else. Mary almost had to run to catch up to him as he disappeared between two buildings.
She reached the narrow walkway between two shops and paused.
Maybe I shouldn’t follow him back there if he’s on a secret mission.
She hesitated, then looked back at the crowd. Many people filled the streets, but nobody paid any mind to a young woman who had no clue what she was doing or where she was going. Still, if something happened a scream would bring everybody around.
And she was curious.
She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped into the walkway. The back of his suit disappeared from view around another corner. Heart pounding, yet anxious to see what he was doing, she picked up her pace again.
Voices and music filled the air. The distant sound of a boat along the water blended happily with everything else. It was a beautiful day despite the clouds, not too hot, the breeze rustled her hair. She gasped as a flock of starlings suddenly burst into the shaft of sky between the two buildings. In a tight formation they soared above the buildings, zigzagging like a black cloud across the sky.
Mary shielded her eyes and watched, fascinated by their skyward dance and smiled at the beautiful view.
But as she stepped out into a small parkway behind the buildings, she froze. The smile on her face faltered, her eyes grew wide in disbelief.
There, with arms and lips locked passionately together, stood Wanda McCoy and Sammy Hayes.
Mary shifted back closer to the wall, stunned by the intense and highly inappropriate scene before her. Her mind raced a mile a minute. They hadn’t noticed her. They probably didn’t notice anything, entranced as they were in each other. To Mary it seemed they only had eyes for each other, as if they’d been lovers for many months, or maybe even many years.
Embarrassed, and a little worried, Mary slunk back around the corner of the wall and rested her back against it. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She should call Terry right away with the news. She should burst around the corner and scream that she’d seen them.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she walked back the way she came and went straight back to the penthouse, her day of shopping completely forgotten.
* * * *
She had always been a jeans and t-shirt kind of gal.
Tonight she chose comfort with a touch of sexy in a white tank top and black jeans, with roman-looking sandals. She kept staring down at her glowing tank top as they all sat beneath the black lights in Terry’s favorite club the following night.
Apparently this place was another business the main business owned and operated. Numerous well-dressed people came up to the table to talk to him, whisper dark secrets in his ear. He was kind to all of them, and only denied a few who seemed messed up on something. Those people were hauled away by the bouncer and chucked outside.
Mary felt overwhelmed by the attention, even though none of it was directed toward her. She sat right beside the big boss, and she felt so out of place she had no clue what to do with herself, for more reasons than one.
This was not her world. She was just a guest. What she had to say probably didn’t matter, even if Terry always tried to make her comfortable. How could she tell him what she saw? Would he believe her? Should she stay out of it?
Keep your nose out of it. Maybe Wanda reached out to Sammy in her grief. She knew what that felt like, needing a warm embrace. Needing a strong man. What business was it of hers that Colton had been murdered only a couple of weeks ago? Still, it seemed wrong that Wanda would have a relationship with one of Terry’s close friends.
She sucked in a calming breath, leaned over and whispered, “Are you going to give me a tour in town? I’d like to see some attractions…if you have time.”
Terry smiled and rubbed her hip, holding her close against him. “What would you like to see? What interests you?”
“Killer whales. I’ve never seen one up close and personal. And museums. Castles. Are there any castles around here?”
Terry chuckled. “Slow down. You can see all of that. Whales and sea lions at Fisherman’s Wharf. Craigdarroch Castle. The Maritime Museum, among numerous other things. Don’t worry, honey, you’ll get your fill of everything. But right now. . . . “
He stood up and offered his hand, his eyes twinkled danger under the black light.
Mary reluctantly put her hand in his. “What?”
“I want to dance with you, that’s what.”
“I-I don’t—” She stood up, trembling, feeling all eyes on her as Terry led her to the dance floor.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you,” he murmured for her ears only, and wrapped her up in his arms.
She didn’t even notice the music had changed from funky hip-hop to a slow song as she easily fell into step with him. She’d never danced with Tom before. He never took her out on the town. Only when she was young did she ever let loose on the dance floor.
Terry smelled of spicy cologne as she rested her cheek to his chest. She closed her eyes, enveloped in his powerful arms and confident stride. Nobody else existed as they swayed and turned and clung to each other.
His hand curved around her back to nestle just above her bum. She felt the heat of him through her clothing, felt the steady thrum of his heartbeat against her cheek.
She needed this. Needed to know that he wasn’t embarrassed to bring her out here like this, a country girl completely lost in the city n
ightlife.
He made her feel like she belonged.
When the song ended and he led her back to their seat, only then did she realize how different she was from the other girls. Their slow dance lasted only a few minutes, and once again she felt out of place, as if somebody simply flipped a switch.
She felt like a ragamuffin around the young women wearing tight dresses barely covering their breasts and skirts revealing too much ass cheek. She had to admit they were gorgeous: curves in all the right places; hair dyed and cut in the latest fashion; long colorful fingernails.
Mary stared at her own hands and frowned. They were dry and her nails needed a serious filing.
What the hell did Terry see in her? She glanced at him discreetly, and felt a gut-punch as his eyes followed the other girls on the dance floor. She followed his gaze and stared at the women.
It was painful to watch as they jiggled and grinded on the dance floor, the music once again back to its fast pace. Many of the girls switched from one man to another, apparently eager to take any one of them home for the night, or perhaps they shared each other.
What ever happened to being content with one man?
“Don’t be jealous, Mary. You’re more tempting than they are,” Terry said in her ear as he lightly stroked her hip.
She blushed, looked away from the girls and lifted the cocktail to her lips. Thank God for the dim lighting as the patrons basically had sex on the dance floor with their clothes on. She didn’t want to be caught watching, but she couldn’t help herself either. The fact that Terry had seen her staring was bad enough. Now she felt even worse.
Back in Silver Creek they had a couple of small pubs, country music or classic rock ruled the radio, and women dressed respectably. They didn’t grind their box or shake their ass, leaving nothing to the imagination, and if they did they were labeled a slut and would never live it down. Silver Creek had a few of them, as every town did.