Under the Boardwalk

by Amie Denman

  Gus raised one eyebrow, twisting her necklace and chewing her lip. Hank had ketchup and mustard stains permanently occupying his shirtfront, but he had a point.

  “I think we should send you,” Bernie said, pointing at Gus.

  “Why me?”

  “I agree,” Tosha said. “Since you’re the newest of us, you’ve got a more practical approach. Not so much emotional baggage.”

  Gus considered her connection to Jack so far. She’d met him for the first time Saturday night in the parking lot. Standing next to him by the darkening bay, she’d felt a tug of...something.

  “Plus you’ve got three stores here,” Hank said. “You’re a great choice for spokesman.”

  “And you’re the tallest,” Bernie added, smiling.

  “Very convincing,” Gus said.

  They all waited for her to say something.

  “I’ll try to talk to him later today,” Gus said. “I’m interviewing workers for my bakeshops in about fifteen minutes.”

  Gus followed the same path of retreat Jack had taken only ten minutes before. The Lake Breeze Hotel was aptly named: its location on the lakeside of the Starlight Point Peninsula opened it to fresh air all year long. A wide sandy beach and a boardwalk were the only things between the massive Victorian structure and the water.

  She leaned on the blue metal railing separating the boardwalk from the sandy beach. Bright sunshine and the sparkling lake should have made her happy, but she had a sixty-thousand-dollar lump in her throat. How could she manage it?

  Movement way down the deserted boardwalk caught her eye. She turned her head just enough to see Jack Hamilton doing exactly the same thing she was. He leaned on the railing, stared at the sunshine and water, and didn’t look any happier than she did.

  Gus considered marching down the boardwalk and negotiating the terms of all the lease vendors’ contracts right then and there. She’d go with honey, not vinegar, this time in hopes of catching something a whole lot more pleasant than the deal they had right now. She’d toss her hair, smile winningly and appeal to his soft side. If he had one.

  She took one step. Two steps. And thought better of it. He was brooding. Maybe he was grieving for his father. Overwhelmed by his new responsibilities? Or secretly delighted he finally had the power to profit from people like her, Hank, Tosha and Bernie? Maybe he wanted to drive the vendors out and keep all the cash from the food stands. Whatever his deal was, Gus didn’t think approaching him now would help the vendors’ cause. Especially since he could probably guess who’d snapped a rubber band into his cranium only minutes before. Time might be her friend when it came to figuring out how to deal with Jack Hamilton.

  * * *

  GUS WAS BEAUTIFUL. And she’d be right under his nose all summer long. Unless he chased her away with his asinine contract hikes.

  The sound of a maintenance cart zooming down the boardwalk reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing right now. He glanced up and grinned. Mel Preston bore down on him like a storm from the Northeast, gunning the cart for all it was worth. He whipped past Augusta, nearly clipping her.

  Jack pulled off his suit coat and slung it over his shoulder.

  “Roll up your sleeves, boss,” Mel yelled over the rattling of the ancient cart. “You’re going up on the Sea Devil with me.”

  “Problem?”

  “State inspectors. One hour. They’re several days early. They claim it’s just a preliminary, but I don’t want to take chances.”

  “Are we ready? Think we’ll pass?”

  “We’re gonna try. Get in.”

  Jack tossed his jacket in the back of the cart, sat on the cracked vinyl seat next to his best friend and jerked off his tie while Mel whipped the cart around and headed back in the direction he’d come from. They breezed by Augusta, only inches away, and Jack’s eyes briefly met hers. It was probably a good thing he wouldn’t have time to talk about the contract today. The next time they met, it would be on his terms. No angry villagers with pitchforks waving contracts and snapping him with rubber bands.

  Jack twisted around in the seat and looked back at Gus. She stood by the railing, facing him. He was getting farther and farther away, but he knew she was watching him. He finally turned and faced forward, trying to put the image of her, with the sun and water behind her, out of his head.

  “Heck of a good-looking woman,” Mel said.

  “Looks like trouble to me.”

  “Know her?”

  Jack nodded. “She owns Aunt Augusta’s Bakery. Makes cookies you’d kill for. Gonna operate three vendor shops here this summer.”

  “I saw the signs in the warehouse. Our guys will put ’em up later this week.”

  “If she signs her contract by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “She hasn’t signed yet? Season starts in ten days.”

  “None of the vendors have officially signed.”

  “Thought your dad handled all that before...you know.”

  Jack unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his sleeves. “My father left quite a few loose ends when he died. I had to draw up the contracts myself. I changed some of the terms, and the vendors aren’t too happy with me right now. Especially one particular baker.”

  Mel glanced over then resumed navigating the rear gate from the hotel area to the back of the Sea Devil. “Never been interested in your business affairs and contracts and such, but I figure you’ve inherited about as much as you can handle.”

  “Wish I could tell you you’re wrong.”

  Mel laughed. “You love it when I’m wrong.”

  “Makes me feel smarter. And right now, I need all the help I can get.”

  Mel parked the cart under the new ride. “Wish the inspectors weren’t showing up early, but I think we’re ready. This ride’s been a long time in the works, and we’ve just got a few details to finalize before it’ll be safe enough for your china dinner plates.”

  “Nice to know you’ve been earning that generous salary.” Jack punched Mel lightly on the shoulder as they stepped out of the cart and headed for the steel ladder extending from the steps on the first hill of the coaster.

  “Doubt you could pay me what I’m worth, but you’re welcome to try,” Mel said.

  “Let’s see how the inspection goes. I’ve got a lot riding on the Sea Devil.”

  If only Mel knew just how much.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  AFTER A MARATHON session making wedding-cake flowers, Gus stood at her shop door ready to flip the sign to Closed. A tall man loitered outside. He met her eyes but didn’t move a muscle.

  She stared back, waiting to see if he would make the first move.

  Or any move.

  Gus caved first, stepped back and pulled the door open.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Are you closed?” Jack asked.

  “Closing,” she said, managing a small smile until she remembered the thirty-thousand-dollar kick in the gut he’d delivered a few days ago.

  “I just...” He stopped. Gus wanted to put him at ease—her natural inclination was to be the sunshine in the rain, especially in the doorway of her own business. She glanced at her apron and fiddled with the knot in front. It was fully decked out in summery designs. Beach chairs, fireworks, bikinis, a flag, a boat.

  Jack gestured to her apron. “I like it,” he said.

  Gus said nothing, trying for a neutral expression and hoping he would go away. She was the official spokesperson for the lease vendors at the Point, who were getting a rotten deal from the six feet three inches of man standing in front of her. She squared her shoulders and tried not to think of him as an attractive man with a sweet tooth and a smile that could melt chocolate.

  “Summer is my favorite season,” he said. He looked pointedly at all the symbols on her apron
. “I like all of those things.”

  One hundred percent awkward.

  He shifted his feet and propped the door open with his hand. “Maybe you could put the Sea Devil on an apron to wear at the Point this summer.”

  Gus had broken her own record. She hadn’t kept her mouth shut for this long since she’d gotten her wisdom teeth out in high school.

  Jack stepped into the open doorway now, preventing her from slamming the door in his face and locking it.

  “I saw that you signed the contract,” he ventured. “All the vendors did.”

  Gus tried to relax her jaw. What was the point of his visit? To gloat? She untied her apron, pulled it over her head and hung it on the back of a nearby chair.

  “We didn’t have much choice,” she finally said.

  “Yes, you did.”

  Gus started arranging chairs around the small tables in the front of the shop. Four chairs per table, perfectly spaced and shoved in. There was something satisfying about keeping her hands busy and her back to Jack. She could not look at him. Would not give him the satisfaction. He was on her turf here. He was the one who should be uncomfortable. She aligned the chairs viciously, snapping them into place with their shoulders pinned against the tables.

  He approached the glass case and looked at the cookies and cakes on display.

  “What I mean is,” he said, “you did have a choice.”

  Gus crossed her arms over her chest and faced him. She wanted to get behind her counter, her shield, her fortress of confections—but he blocked her way to the pass-through.

  “You could have told me to go jump in the lake with my contract,” he continued, a small grin sliding up one side of his face.

  “I thought about it,” Gus said. She’d thought about him quite a lot, as a matter of fact.

  He chuckled. “I’m sure you did.”

  Gus exhaled slowly. “Sorry if I don’t find it so funny.”

  “It’s not. It’s business. Nothing funny about business.”

  “Says the man who owns an amusement park.”

  He continued to gaze at the cookies in the case. No way was she offering him one now. Even if it would make him go away.

  Gus wondered if her aunt was listening to this conversation. Aunt Augusta had helped her all day and should be washing up. Gus should hear water running, but no sounds came from the kitchen.

  Jack suddenly stepped closer and looked down at her. He smelled like a man who’d been outside all day, a hint of lake air and a touch of sweat. It was a nice combination. Too nice. She had to keep her mind on her business, which was currently a house of cards built on bank loans and confectioner’s sugar.

  “I would have been in a real bind if you’d all refused to sign. Don’t know how I would’ve replaced you all at such short notice.”

  Gus wanted to throw something. What was wrong with this guy?

  “I’m just so glad we didn’t inconvenience you,” she said, her words laced with bitterness. “I’m sure you’re hoping we’ll all make a nice profit and your twenty percent—instead of the original ten—will be even sweeter.”

  “Of course I hope so.”

  Gus stared wordlessly at him. Heat crept over her; her ears flamed. She made a Herculean effort to keep her voice from shaking.

  “I have work to do,” she said abruptly, clipping off the words and hoping they conveyed dismissal.

  “I thought you were closing for the day,” he said.

  With a genius like him at the helm of Starlight Point, we’re all in serious trouble. Has he never seen a bakery kitchen after it was closed for the day?

  Maybe he didn’t know the first thing about actual work. But she did. She grabbed her apron off the back of a chair and folded it. Jack moved toward the door, leaving the floor open for Gus to retreat behind her counter. She felt braver there, like a judge behind a bench.

  “I’ll go,” Jack said. “I just stopped by to say...”

  Gus tapped a pencil on the counter while she waited. It was funny to see such a tall, well-dressed man acting so... What was it? Nervous? Guilty? Aloof?

  “I know how influential you are with the other vendors,” he said, looking her directly in the eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know why.”

  “You don’t know why people would listen to me.” It was a statement, not a question. Of course he wouldn’t get it. She kept her voice steady. “I’m the newest one there and a mere...”

  “Baker?” Jack supplied. “That’s one of my favorite professions.”

  Gus wanted to laugh, if only to break the tension. Her shoulders were like wild dogs straining at the leash of her spinal column.

  “Let me enlighten you. The other vendors asked me to speak for them because I have three locations at Starlight Point. My sixty thousand dollars carries a lot of weight with them and with me.”

  “So why didn’t you?”

  “What?”

  “Speak for them?” he said. “I thought you might come at me without the oven mitts.”

  “I did come by the next morning, but your troll of a secretary said you were unavailable and would be all day. She implied I was wasting my time even trying.”

  “Dorothea has been with us for centuries. She’s very loyal.”

  “I’ll have to name a cookie after her.”

  “She’d like that.”

  Gus rolled her eyes and continued, “So did you really tell your guard not to let me past the palace gate?”

  “It’s a busy time of year,” Jack said.

  “Um, you gave us twenty-four hours to make a decision that could make or break our businesses. And you couldn’t make time to negotiate? Really?”

  Jack stared at his shoes, his shoulders sagging. “I am sorry I didn’t get a chance to see you.”

  “And what would you have done if you had?” Gus asked hotly. “Renegotiated? Offered us a better deal? Honored your father’s verbal commitment to people he’d worked with for years—some of them for decades?” She knew she was stepping over a line, invoking his deceased father, but he’d invaded her shop and insulted her.

  Jack stared at her for ten long seconds, the veins standing out in his neck.

  “I wouldn’t have changed a thing in the contract.”

  Gus’s heart hammered in her chest. She’d pushed him too far for the second time in her role as leader of the vendors. And the results weren’t any better this time around. He had a way of turning her sunshine to storm clouds faster than weather changed in the Midwest.

  “Goodbye,” she said.

  Jack stalked to the door.

  “You know,” he said, “I really came here today to say thank-you.”

  And he was gone. One thing was certain. Jack was not an easy man to understand.

  CHAPTER SIX

  VIRGINIA HAMILTON PARKED Betty’s red wagon in front of the Midway Bakery, where Gus stopped working, wiped her hands on her apron and leaned across the counter, smiling at her visitor.

  “All ready for opening day?” Virginia asked.

  “You tell me,” Gus said. “How many customers do you think we’ll have?”

  “Depends on the weather, of course, and the local schools are still in session a few more weeks, but I’d say we can count on ten thousand or so. A lot of regulars come for opening day every year.”

  “Ten thousand cookies coming right up,” Gus said, laughing. “The rest of the special cookie cutters I ordered should be in tomorrow. I think you’ve already seen the carousel horse, but wait till you see the roller coasters—especially the new Sea Devil—on a cookie. My favorite is the Starlight Point skyline. We plan to ice those cookies in dark twilight colors so the coaster lights will really pop.”

  Movement on the midway caught her attention. Jack Hamilton rode slowly
past her shop on an old tandem bicycle, one of the employee loaners. The vacant seat made him look like a man dancing alone on an empty floor. He waved and continued down the midway, a rubber band around the leg of his suit pants.

  Virginia waved to her son and turned back to Augusta. “I know you’re busy, but can I borrow a minute to talk about my summer project? I’d like to get the plans going right away.”

  “What can I do?” Gus asked, striving for a neutral tone.

  “I was thinking,” Virginia said. “All these young men and women will probably be parents someday. Most of our older employees already are.” She reached across the counter and laid her hand on Gus’s arm. “Family is very important here at Starlight Point.”

  And they have no idea how lucky they are. Virginia had lost her husband, but she still had three children close at hand. As an only child with parents who moved often because of her father’s job, Augusta craved the sense of family and belonging that everyone else seemed to have. But she did have her aunt and a fledgling business—otherwise she’d still be adrift.

  “Of course,” Gus said as she forced her thoughts back to Virginia’s summer project. “It’s a family amusement park, gotta love families. But what would you like me to do?”

  This was getting scary. Was she supposed to teach them about family values? Natural childbirth? Installing a car seat correctly? Sibling rivalry?

  Betty snored loudly in her wagon. She’d seen lots of summer improvement programs come and go. Maybe dog grooming had been one of them.

  “What is an important thing that all parents should be able to do?” Virginia asked.

  “Um...tie shoes? Sing the alphabet in two languages? Apply Band-Aids?”

  “Make a birthday cake!” Virginia exclaimed. She smiled broadly and clapped her hands together once, leaving them joined.

  “Oh,” Gus said. “That was my next guess.”

  “Every parent should be able to bake and decorate a birthday cake for their child.”

  “I think so, too. But they can also get one from a bakery,” Gus suggested, grinning. “I could recommend a good one for anyone looking.”