by Lisa Dyson
“Well—” He looked at Charlotte. “I would like to spend more time talking about your artwork.”
“It’s all settled, then,” Allie said. “I’m sure Mr. Fletcher can make a reservation for four instead of two. I’ll call you later to find out the restaurant.” She put out her hand to Chuck, hoping to make their exit before he realized he was being manipulated. Charlotte stood, picking up on the hint that they were leaving.
“Before you go,” Chuck said quietly, sounding a little embarrassed, “I have something to show you.”
Allie almost sighed with relief that he wasn’t canceling dinner.
“Come this way.” Chuck led them into the hallway and took a left, leading them away from the reception area.
“Oh!” Charlotte stopped suddenly and put both hands over her mouth.
Both Chuck and Charlotte were looking at a gorgeous scene of a deserted beach with the sun coming up over the horizon. The colors—pastels would be Allie’s guess—were both vibrant and subtle. She almost felt like part of the scene.
“That’s beautiful,” Allie said before she noticed the signature. C Harrington.
Charlotte quickly wiped tears from her cheeks, obviously emotional. In a shaky voice she said, “Thank you for showing me this.”
“Oh, Ms. Harrington, it’s definitely my pleasure to have your work displayed here,” Chuck gushed, which he seemed to do on a regular basis. “I actually bought it for my office last year, but everyone loved it so much that I decided to move it out here.”
Charlotte touched the man’s arm. “I’m glad people are enjoying it.”
Allie quickly ended the encounter by reminding them that they needed to arrange accommodations for the night. Charlotte was obviously having trouble keeping herself together.
“We’ll see you at dinner.” They both waved and hurried outside to the pavement. “Are you okay, Charlotte?” Allie asked when she pulled her to a bench to sit down.
Charlotte shook her head and covered her face with her hands. Her whole body shook, and Allie couldn’t think of anything to do but lightly rub Charlotte’s back until she was ready to speak.
Finally Charlotte straightened, staring ahead at the cars driving down the main street. Allie had to strain to hear Charlotte’s words. “That was the last scene I completed before my mother’s pancreatic cancer diagnosis.”
Allie had no words of comfort and pulled a sobbing Charlotte into her arms.
* * *
WHEN ALLIE AND CHARLOTTE showed up for dinner, Jack was even more surprised than when the deputy mayor called him to add two to the reservation. He’d expected two of Chuck’s coworkers—maybe the mayor himself—not this pair.
How had Allie manipulated Chuck to get invited to dinner?
Chuck walked in with them and took the seat in the booth across from Jack. Charlotte quickly sat next to Chuck, leaving Allie to sit beside Jack.
He purposely didn’t give her much room, for which he was rewarded with a look of contempt. “You look nice tonight,” he told her, knowing it would only set her farther off course.
The restaurant was a typical touristy place with sea creatures such as starfish and shells on the walls, and paper covering the tables. The menu selection was exactly what Jack expected, with every type of East Coast seafood available, including quahogs, Rhode Island’s type of clams.
Jack had wanted a more refined restaurant for dinner, but just as rooms were unavailable, so were restaurant reservations. If not for dropping the deputy mayor’s name, as well as Chuck’s suggestion to try this restaurant, the four of them might very well have been going through a fast-food drive-through.
“This looks delicious,” Allie said to Chuck as she glanced around at the food on the other tables. “Do you eat here often?”
“This is one of my favorite places,” he admitted. “And it’s not only because my cousin is the owner and chef.”
“How nice!” Allie went back to reading the menu. “What do you suggest?”
They talked about the menu for a few more minutes before their server took their drink orders. Jack couldn’t help noticing Charlotte was more quiet and subdued than usual. He didn’t want to embarrass her in front of Chuck, so he didn’t mention it.
At one point, Allie moved in her seat and whispered under her breath from behind her menu, “Can you move over a little? I’m going to fall off.”
He smiled sweetly and moved about a quarter of an inch. She responded by shoving her whole body into him, not that she was strong enough to move him.
“Jerk,” she whispered, kicking the side of his shin with her shoe.
“Nice talk from such a lovely mouth.”
Her cheeks turned pink, just as he’d expected.
“Stop it,” she sputtered.
“Is everything okay?” Chuck asked.
Jack had been so caught up in his little battle with Allie that he’d forgotten why he was at dinner in the first place. Their legs were still touching, and he made no move to avoid contact, loving the heat they made together.
“Everything’s fine,” he told Chuck as he discreetly took Allie’s hand beneath the table and entwined their fingers tightly enough that she couldn’t pull away. She squeezed her hand to show her displeasure, and he squeezed lightly back. “We were discussing which way we liked our seafood cooked. What’s your preference, Chuck? Fried or sautéed?” He settled their hands on his thigh, probably a mistake since his body began acting inappropriately at the proximity of her hand to certain body parts.
Remembering once again that this was a business meeting, he turned his mind back to the menu. After ordering their entrées, Allie and Jack asked Chuck a lot of questions about the town, both intent on producing an excellent advertising campaign and selling Chuck on their own expertise.
“I hope you’ve found a room for the night?” Chuck directed his question to Charlotte.
“Well—”
Jack spoke up before either of the women could stop him. “Actually, they’re staying at the same B and B as I am. I talked to the innkeeper, and she has a very small room for you.”
“Really?” Charlotte asked. “That’s wonderful. How nice of you.” She asked Allie, “Wasn’t that nice of him?”
“Just trying to help out.” He was rewarded with another kick in the shin from Allie, while she merely smiled at Chuck. Jack released her hand to rub his leg.
Later, when the bill came, Allie was quick to pick up the check.
“We could split it,” he suggested, aware of her financial situation.
Allie wouldn’t give in. “You bought lunch, so I’ll pick up dinner.”
They were getting up to leave when Allie asked, “What time should we meet you at the artists’ workhouse, Chuck?”
This was news to Jack. No wonder Charlotte had come along. “That sounds like something I’d like to see, too,” he said, which got him a jab in the ribs from Allie.
“It opens at ten o’clock tomorrow,” Chuck said. “Shall we all meet at the workhouse then?”
They agreed and Chuck departed for his car, leaving Jack and the two women standing in front of the restaurant.
“If you don’t want the room at Fairleigh Manor,” Jack said, “I can cancel.”
“We’ll take it,” Charlotte said quickly.
“I had them reserve the room on my credit card,” he said.
“I’ll make sure the charge goes on mine,” Allie told him.
“You can pay me back later if you need to keep it on my card,” he offered.
“I’ll be fine.”
Jack wasn’t so sure about that.
* * *
CHARLOTTE LISTENED TO Allie complain about Jack the entire ride from the restaurant to the hotel.
“That man drives me crazy in less time than it takes to shoo a fly.”
Even so, Charlotte couldn’t help but enjoy the way Jack and Allie were together.
Their attraction was obvious. If only they didn’t allow business to get in th
e middle of it, they might be on their way to a pretty darn great relationship.
“Good thing you’re off men,” Charlotte reminded Allie. She pretended to look out the passenger-side window so Allie wouldn’t see the smile she couldn’t hide.
“I admit I had a little bump in my plan last night,” Allie said. “But it’s not like we have a relationship or anything.”
“Especially since Jack isn’t into relationships either.”
Allie didn’t reply, simply driving the few more blocks to Fairleigh Manor, a Victorian home with a much grander name than the building with its peeling paint and missing cedar roof shingles.
“I didn’t realize how late it was getting,” Charlotte said when the car was parked.
“Me, either,” Allie agreed on a yawn. “I just want to go to sleep and get up in time to grab breakfast and check out the town before we meet with Chuck.”
Jack was already in his room when the two women arrived. He came out into the hall as the innkeeper was showing them to their room next to his.
“There’s not much room in here,” Allie noted when the innkeeper left.
She wasn’t kidding. The room had a double bed with only about two feet on either side of it. There was even less space at the end of the bed.
“There’s not even a place to put our things,” Charlotte said. “I guess we can pile everything here.” She put her small suitcase on the bench at the foot of the bed.
Allie had rolled her overnight bag into the room, and she put it next to Charlotte’s on the bench. She opened it, grabbing a cosmetic case and what appeared to be a nightshirt. “Where’s the bathroom?” she asked Jack and Charlotte.
“We share one,” Jack said. “It’s across the hall.”
“Great.”
“There’s no one else on this floor, so we’re the only ones using it.”
“And that’s supposed to make things better?” Allie left the room with her things.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Jack told Charlotte.
“Good night and thanks.” Charlotte waited for Allie to finish, wondering what she could do to get Jack and Allie to realize they should be together. She tried to think like Allie did, looking for any advantage. While brushing her teeth, a plan came to mind. She smiled at herself in the mirror. Someday they’d thank her. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow. But someday.
* * *
ALLIE HAD NEVER been more uncomfortable in a bed. Not that the mattress was that bad, but it was Charlotte.
She kicked and squirmed and flailed her arms. Just as Allie would drift off, Charlotte would start her tossing and turning. Allie clung to the edge of the bed that couldn’t possibly be as big as a standard double.
She’d never get a wink of sleep at this rate.
She couldn’t help visualizing Jack’s bed. She knew he was easy to sleep next to, but how could she do that without giving him the wrong idea?
Very, very bad idea.
Charlotte moaned and flung her arm in Allie’s direction, hitting her in the back of the head.
Allie finally got out of the torture bed as quietly as possible, thinking she’d have to find another surface to sleep on. But there was no other furniture in the room to sleep on, and barely enough floor space to walk around the bed. Allie almost reconsidered her decision to sleep somewhere else when Charlotte seemed to have fallen into a deeper, calmer sleep.
But then she began flailing again—Allie had no choice.
She tiptoed to the bedroom door, taking her pillow and the extra blanket from the end of the bed with her. Maybe the hallway would be a better choice. She opened the door quietly and carefully and closed it behind her.
“What’s up?”
Jack was coming out of the bathroom. He was shirtless with only his khaki shorts on. Allie’s fingers tingled at the memory of his bare skin.
She cleared her head. Not a time for thoughts like that.
“Charlotte’s all over the bed. I came out here to sleep in the hallway.”
“You don’t have to do that.” He took her pillow and blanket. “Come with me.”
She followed him into his room, knowing full well that it was a bad idea. “This is a bad idea.”
“It’ll be fine.” He began moving pillows around on the bed, using her pillow and the blanket to make a barrier down the middle of the bed. He pointed to his work. “There. The walls of Jericho.”
“Huh?” This was a terrible idea.
“It’s an old movie. It Happened One Night. We should watch it together sometime.” He stripped down to his underwear and crawled into one side. “Come on. You need some sleep.” He rolled over, his back to her, while she stood and watched.
Sleeping in the bed with him couldn’t possibly be as bad as sleeping with dear Charlotte—Charlotte of the Newport Ballet and Karate Company.
She shut off the light on her side and climbed into bed. Turning on her side, her back to Jack, she tried not to think about how close he was to her. His soft, even breathing told her he was probably asleep already.
Damn. Why had business gotten between them? Her pulse pounded so loudly she thought he might hear it.
She reviewed her plan for tomorrow, wondering what Jack had in mind. He’d already horned in on their visit to the artists’ workhouse, although the more time they spent together, the more she’d know about his plans for the town. She was determined to win this account after losing the last one to him.
She’d set her cell phone alarm so she’d be up bright and early to go for a walk before breakfast, but she’d forgotten her phone in her room. Charlotte had mentioned she wanted to go out to sketch in the morning, so they would be splitting up until they met at the workhouse. Ideally, Allie would wake up on her own in time to do what she needed to do.
She was nearly drifting off when she felt movement. Jack had turned over. Was he going to make a move toward her? Could she be strong and tell him no?
Her heart raced until she heard him breathe softly and regularly again. She relaxed and eventually fell sleep.
She wasn’t sure how much later it was that she suddenly woke to movement on the other side of the bed. The pillows between them were being tossed aside, and Jack’s strong arm came around her middle to pull her to him. As they spooned, his hand slid under her nightshirt to comfortably cup her breast.
As if that’s how they slept every night.
“Jack, you’re naked!” Now that her nightshirt had ridden up because of his fondling, she couldn’t ignore what was now pressing against her own bare skin.
“Oh, yeah. I didn’t want to seem too eager earlier.” His words whispered in her ear were deep and gravelly from sleep. He couldn’t have sounded sexier if he’d tried.
She wiggled to move away from him, even if it was reluctantly. “And now?”
He kissed her neck just below her ear, and she didn’t care anymore. Her nightshirt landed on the floor, and she begged him to make love to her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JACK WOKE TO the sun peeking through the drapes. He sat straight up, the sheet covering his chest falling forward, when he realized how late it must be. The bedside clock said nearly eight o’clock. He got out of bed and noticed the pillows at his feet, and the memories of the night he’d had with Allie came back in a whoosh.
Jack grinned. He hadn’t dreamt it.
He leaned over the bed to pick up the pillow she’d slept on. Yep, definitely smelled like her citrus shampoo. Also cold to the touch. She must have gotten up a while ago.
He opened the door slightly and saw no one was using the bathroom. He hopped into the shower, noticing one bath towel had been used already.
Once in the shower, he remembered more clearly how he and Allie had spent the night. He smiled, remembering the time she’d spent touching and kissing every inch of him.
After showering he got out the door in no time, so he explored the streets of Fairleigh. He noticed several boarded-up businesses. They’d obviously not been able to survive th
e hurricane devastation.
“Excuse me,” he said to a middle-aged couple walking in his direction. “May I ask you a few questions about this town?”
“Of course,” the woman answered immediately.
“I work for an advertising firm that’s been tasked with bringing tourism back to Fairleigh. Are you tourists or do you live here?”
“We’re locals,” the man said. “Twenty years ago, we left Kansas and opened a flower shop here in town. We wanted to be near the water.”
“And you’ve done okay since the hurricane?”
“Not exactly, but luckily we have insurance. Not all the businesses in town were covered. And either help from FEMA came too late, or it wasn’t enough and some people couldn’t reopen.”
“I see.” Jack wasn’t surprised by their answer. “How do you see the town now? Are you still glad to be here despite tourism being down?”
“I’m sure it will come back,” the woman told him confidently.
“Why’s that?”
“Because the people here love this town, and they’re willing to do what’s necessary to revive it. Just because a few people didn’t reopen their businesses doesn’t mean the town will fall apart. I see it as opportunities for others to start businesses here and be successful.”
“I appreciate your opinion on the matter.” Jack gave her his business card. “If you think of anything else that might be useful, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”
They all went on their way, and Jack stopped to speak to several more people on the street as well as some shop owners as the stores began to open.
He finally came to a restaurant that served only breakfast. Figuring that was a good place to get some coffee and food, and meet a few more locals, he opened the door and stepped inside.
There was nothing special about the place except for a homey atmosphere that Jack couldn’t put his finger on. The furniture was metal, lots of small tables and chairs with the ability to be moved around, and it had obviously been used hard over the years. The walls were freshly painted, and an old-fashioned case held muffins, scones and all sorts of baked goods with a sign proclaiming they were freshly made on the premises.