by Amie Denman
“Ms. Murphy,” he said, “I’m wondering something.”
“You should call me Aunt Augusta. Everyone does.”
“Okay. Aunt Augusta, I have a question about my mother.”
“Shoot.”
Jack fiddled with the label on his soda bottle. “You’ve known her a long time. Do you think she’s...uh...doing okay?”
Great. On top of his charm and smile, he cares about his mother. Gus wondered if that would soften the other vendors’ attitude toward him. Maybe, but not ten thousand bucks’ worth.
Aunt Augusta ran her tongue over her teeth, looking at the bay for a while. “Wish I could say I’ve known her well for a long time. We served on some committees together over the years, but it’s really been in the last year we’ve gotten to be friends.”
“She’s mentioned your work on the Red Cross and Big Sisters program.”
“We stay busy. As for how she’s handling the change in her life, it’s hard to say. She’s lucky to have you and your sisters. When the summer’s over and things simmer down at the Point, I think she’s gonna need a friend. I’ll make sure she stays busy with our committee work next fall and winter. Nothing like helping other people to make you feel better yourself.”
“Thanks. My sister June asked me how she was doing, and I wasn’t sure what to say. Evie probably knows her best anyway.”
“Order 243,” the lady at the counter yelled.
“Is that you?” Gus asked.
“Wishful thinking. I’m 256.”
“Good thing I have plenty of chips left.”
“You’re nicer than my sisters,” Jack said. “They never surrender their food willingly.” He took a sip of his drink. “How about you? Any brothers or sisters?”
“Nope. Just me.”
“And you didn’t go to school in Bayside—but your parents lived here?”
“We all lived here, but I went to Catholic school up to eighth grade. Then my father transferred to a different plant. I went to high school near Detroit.”
“And they’re in China for five years now,” Jack said.
Gus looked up, surprised. “How did you know?”
“Evie told me.”
“Oh. They lived here again while I went to culinary school and then worked for a while in Boston.”
“Lucky me,” Aunt Augusta said, “she was ready to come home and open her own place.”
Gus smiled at her aunt. “I’m the lucky one. Aunt Augusta kept me from being a lonely kid. I must have made a hundred birthday cakes with her before I was twelve years old.”
“That’s a lot of birthdays,” Jack said.
“All of my dolls and stuffed animals had a birthday at least three times a year. I had a calendar to keep them all straight.” Gus hadn’t shared that story in a long time. Jack listened as if she were the most important person on earth.
“Very creative.”
“Not really. Animals age faster than humans. In teddy-bear years, I’m old enough to retire,” Gus said.
Aunt Augusta laughed. “I would’ve been put out to pasture ages ago in that case.”
“Order 256,” the counter lady yelled.
“Hallelujah,” Jack said. “I was about to embarrass myself by stealing food from neighboring tables.”
* * *
JACK ASSESSED THE evening sky as he picked up his dinner from the order window. If he didn’t get back in his kayak in the next ten minutes, he wouldn’t make it to the dock at his house on the Old Road before dark. No lights on his kayak meant no nighttime navigation.
The food in the basket—a grilled ham-and-cheese panini—smelled delicious. Even more tempting was the lady at the table, the evening glow washing her face and hair with warm light.
He’d never been a man who insisted on having his cake and eating it, too. Lately, he hadn’t even managed to have any cake because his life was being eaten up by Starlight Point. Not that he minded, but...
Jack had a tough choice. Take his food to go or enjoy the company of Gus and her aunt. Maybe he had no choice. After all, he did owe Gus a half order of his chips. As for getting home? He’d figure it out.
“What’d you get?” Aunt Augusta asked, checking out his basket. “Is that the grilled ham-and-cheese sandwich?”
“Panini,” Gus said.
The sun dipped even lower, going behind a cloud and sending a deep shadow over the dock.
“Looks like you’re going to need a ride home,” Aunt Augusta said.
“Can I hope you’ll take me?”
She laughed. “I’m worried about my spotless reputation. And my car’s way too small for your kayak. Now, Gus here doesn’t have any reputation to speak of and she has a big van. Her parents are out of town, but I’ll give her permission to go home with a nice young man like you.”
“Thanks a lot,” Gus said. She shoved back from the table, not quite making eye contact with Jack. “I’ll pull my van down here and we’ll put your kayak in the back.”
“I don’t want to be a pain in the neck if you...had other plans.”
Gus finally met his eyes. “It’s my night off. I usually rescue stranded boaters and feed the hungry on Mondays. Be right back.”
“I’ll hit the road, too,” Aunt Augusta said. “Boss expects me in first thing tomorrow. G’night, kids.”
Jack watched Gus and her aunt climb the slight grade to the street and turn the corner. A small parking lot was down one block, taking the place of an old building that had met the wrecking ball years ago. He finished his sandwich and drink and headed for his kayak, untying it and pulling it up on the dock to drip dry.
When he’d gotten into his kayak two hours earlier, he would never have imagined his evening ending like this. A few months ago, he would never have imagined that he’d meet someone like Augusta.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MOST DINERS WERE gone and quiet settled over the docks as Gus backed her van down the narrow driveway. Keeping her eye on the side mirrors, she aimed for the dock with a yellow kayak.
Putting the van in Park, Gus didn’t even unbuckle her seat belt before Jack opened the rear doors. He balanced the one-man kayak on his shoulder as if he’d done it a thousand times.
“Tried to dry it off some,” he said. He loaded it and shut the door. “Do I get to drive?”
“Sorry.” Gus laughed. “You’re not on my insurance plan.”
Jack gripped the collar of his wet suit and peeled it down his body. Gus leaned against the cool back door of her van and tried to concentrate on the last rays of the sunset without focusing on the broad chest being revealed inch by inch in front of her. She looked away—okay, she intended to look away—as he shucked the wet suit over his hips and down his legs, revealing a pair of dark blue swim trunks underneath.
“Do I seem dangerous?” he asked.
“Very,” Gus breathed. “You get to navigate. And no honking the horn this time.”
“No problem.”
“Do you have a shirt?” she asked after he climbed in the passenger seat next to her. “The seat belt’s going to chafe, but you have to wear it. Company policy.”
“I’ll tough it out,” he said, tugging it on.
Gus dug into a box behind her seat and pulled out a pink T-shirt. “Here,” she said. “We had these made for our employees, but no one needed the extra large.” She handed him the shirt, which had the company logo screen-printed on the front: Aunt Augusta’s Bakery over an elaborate three-tiered cake.
“I match your van,” Jack said as he put on the shirt and leaned out to admire himself in the side mirror.
“And if you ever need a job, you’ve already got the uniform.”
“You’ve seen my cake-decorating skills,” he said.
“I believe in seco
nd chances.” The words slipped out before she could think. She wished she could gauge his reaction, but she was afraid to look at him. Instead, she came to a full stop at the top of the hill, driving as if she were taking the test to get her license.
The drive took only ten minutes—no cars were heading toward the amusement park at this time of night. To break the silence as they crossed the Point Bridge, Gus was tempted to ask if Jack was selling Starlight Point, but close quarters weren’t the best place for dropping bombshells.
“I’m sorry—you’re going to get in a lot of traffic when you turn around to head home,” Jack said.
“I’m getting used to it. But I’ve never driven down your street,” she said. “I didn’t realize how close the Old Road homes are to the Point.”
“Right next door. I risk my life every day walking across the parking lot to get to work. Maybe I should have pedestrian lanes painted and crosswalks installed.”
“Lately,” Gus said, “I’ve been taking some risks, too. Bought a van, took out a loan the size of Lake Huron, opened a bakery, and you know the rest.”
Jack was silent a few minutes. Huge homes came and went in the van’s headlights.
“There’s my house. The small one. Driveway’s just past the mailbox.”
“No mansion?”
“Disappointed?”
“I’m hardly in a position to judge. I’m living in a flat above my bakery.”
She cut the engine. He took off his seat belt.
“I’m no genius in the kitchen, but I could offer you a piece of leftover birthday cake if you’ll come in for a while.”
Gus hesitated. This was a decisive moment. Back out of the driveway or take a chance? The flutter in her chest could be telling her either one.
“I know it’s a few days old, but I kept it in the fridge,” he said.
Gus toyed with the keys dangling from the ignition, but her glance strayed to Jack’s long fingers resting on his bare thighs.
“I also make excellent coffee. I learned the summer I worked the coffee shop at the hotel.”
“Coffee shop?”
He nodded. “Yep. Parents insisted. We all had to work seasonal jobs so we’d see things from a different perspective.”
“I knew Evie did that, but I somehow didn’t picture you slugging it out every day with the minimum-wage crowd.”
“Because I’m the oldest son? That’s a pretty medieval assumption.”
“Maybe.”
“Believe me, if you’d known me the year I shoveled coal on the train crew, you’d never have imagined I was the boss’s son.”
“Dirty?”
“Filthy. But I had dangerous muscles.”
Gus tried not to think about Jack covered in sweat, muscles—dangerous or not—rippling under bare flesh.
“Only did that one summer. My parents were afraid I’d run off with a train girl.”
“So no big summer romances for you?”
“Nothing serious.” He leaned close and whispered, “I’ve always been in love with Starlight Point.”
Okay, so maybe he wasn’t going to sell out. You couldn’t sell something you loved. Unless you had to.
“I think I’d like some cake and coffee,” Gus said.
Jack’s home was a total surprise. One story, large uncurtained windows in the living room overlooking Starlight Point. Nothing on the walls. Small television hung directly across from the only furniture—a lumpy brown couch. Kitchen and serving bar to one side.
“Not much to look at, huh?” he asked. “Had this place five years and haven’t changed much. Seems to work.”
“It’s uncomplicated. Simple.”
“Glad you see it that way. No sense in a fancy place when I practically live at the Point. My mother can’t imagine how I sleep in this ‘hovel,’ as she calls it. My sisters think I should at least hang some pictures. But I think...” He gestured out the back windows where the twilight sky was punctuated by the coaster lights.
“With a view like that, who needs artwork?” Gus suggested.
“You understand,” he said, stepping behind her and laying one hand on her shoulder. He put his other hand gently at her waist, barely touching her. She watched a lighted train climb slowly up a hill and then crest and fall, racing away into the night. A line of cars waited to exit the lot, their drivers impatient after a long day in the park. Lights stretched across the Point Bridge, a ribbon of red and white indicating the nightly traffic jam.
Jack cleared his throat. His lips brushed her temple. He smelled of lake water and a touch of salt. It would be so easy to lean back against him and feel his arms close around her. They were alone in his living room, watching the night skyline of a place they both loved. She took a deep breath and stepped forward instead of back, reminding herself that she worked there, under his thumb and contract. What would the other lease vendors think if they could see her now? They would expect her to zap him with a rubber band and put him in his place.
She turned to tell him good-night, face-to-face, but he spoke first. “Gus, I think you know I’d like to spend more time with—”
“I should go,” she said. She had to stop him before he said something she would find too hard to resist.
“But I thought—”
“It’s getting late. I have to be right over there—” she pointed toward the flashing lights of the midway “—very early in the morning.”
Jack’s jaw tensed. “I promised you cake and coffee.”
Gus tried to laugh to break the tension, but it sounded insincere, even to her. “You could come by my bakery tomorrow. Have some then.”
Wailing sirens in the parking lot caught his attention. He raised his head for a second, glancing toward the large window and listening. A faint crease appeared between his eyebrows.
“I would prefer to be alone with you. We could talk.”
More sirens and air horns. Jack made a visible effort to ignore the noise from the parking lot. A cell phone rang, vibrating on the kitchen table where it rested with his keys and wallet.
“Maybe you better answer that,” she said. “I’ll just show myself out.”
Jack held out one hand in a gesture that said wait while he grabbed the phone, glancing at the name of the caller. “It’s the chief of security.” He answered the phone and listened for a minute. “Uh-huh. I was afraid of that. Got Bayside Fire coming in?” Jack stalked over and looked out his window. “Uh-huh. Yep. Only thing you can do. I’m right here at the house. I’ll open the gate.”
He disconnected the call and set his phone on the table.
“Gate?” Gus asked.
“The one out of the parking lot that opens onto the Old Road. We don’t usually want all that traffic going down the Old Road because it’s dark and narrow and just not built for it. But no choice tonight. The Point Bridge is closed by an accident and thousands of people have to have some way off the peninsula.”
“You have a gate key?”
“I own the place. I have a key to everything.” Jack slipped on a pair of sneakers that were under his kitchen table. He returned to Gus, moved in close and ran a gentle finger down her cheek. The movement was personal. Too personal. It reminded her why she needed to leave now.
“You have two choices,” Jack said. “You can leave now because once I open the gate onto the Old Road you’ll be in the mother of all traffic jams.” He moved even closer. “Or you can wait here. I’ll be back in a half hour or so and you’ll have to stay late because of traffic. We can pick up where we left off.”
Gus thought about it. Was picking up where they left off the wisest thing to do? And where exactly did they leave off anyway? She could run now, beat the traffic and settle onto her nice, safe couch to watch television. Sleeping on the events of the evening and evaluating t
hem in the sane morning light was a whole lot smarter than committing to a late night at Jack Hamilton’s. Her aunt may not agree, but her bank loan and the other lease vendors certainly would.
“You know which choice I’m hoping for,” Jack said. “We could still have that cake and coffee I promised you.”
Gus shook her head. “I think I’ve already indulged enough tonight.” She headed for the door.
“Gus, wait.”
She turned, feeling braver about resisting him as she neared escape.
“Thanks for the ride home,” he said. “Any chance you’ll have dinner with me as a way to...uh...thank you?”
Dinner with Jack. An actual date and not a chance meeting or flirtation. That was another thing she’d have to sleep on. But she already knew what her practical side would tell her. Getting involved with the owner of Starlight Point wouldn’t make it any easier for her to face her friends, pay her employees and retire her massive bank loan.
“I don’t know,” she said. “You have a reputation for stealing food. Having dinner with you is just—” she paused, flinching inwardly at the crestfallen look on Jack’s face “—too risky for me.”
As she drove down the Old Road, she glanced toward the section of parking lot Jack cut across to open a little-used access gate. His bright pink shirt picked up the headlights from an approaching security vehicle, and Gus chuckled, wondering how he’d explain his wardrobe choice if anyone asked.
* * *
EVIE TOOK OFF her silver-rimmed glasses and shoved the folder back toward Jack. She shut the laptop in front of her and sighed, frowning at her brother.
“I was afraid of this,” she said.
“You were ahead of me, then. I had no clue.”
“I just had a feeling these last few years. Always wondered where some of the revenue for the capital improvements was coming from. Now we know. Dad didn’t share any of this with you?”
“Nope.” Jack scrubbed his fingers through his hair as he stood watching Starlight Point through his living room window.
“I thought your jobs overlapped quite a lot.”
“Not really. I can see why you thought so. I’m sure everyone did. Truth is, I did my thing and he did his. I was responsible for the human resources and marketing. Got out and about, fixed problems, fixed a ride now and then when Mel let me.”