Under the Boardwalk

by Carly Phillips

  A closer look told Ariana the plans were of this house, which sat on over two acres of unused property. Both the land and the building had been in the family for generations, though nobody knew how Ariana’s great-great-grandfather had acquired enough money to purchase it and Aunt Dee’s lot across the street.

  Ariana suspected he’d won the land gambling, and nobody had ever disagreed with her notion. “You’re expanding?”

  “Yes. We need to make sure we have enough room for clients,” her father said. “You really think it’ll work, Quinn?”

  Hands in his back jeans pocket, Quinn squinted as he studied the papers. The most adorable creases formed at the corners of his eyes as he nodded slowly. “Assuming you get the appropriate paperwork and town approval, the addition will fit in nicely with the rest of the house. I think it’s a great idea.”

  Nicholas nodded. His smile told Ariana in no uncertain terms that he was happy with Quinn. “The architect we hired already filed for permits.”

  “Are you going legit?” Ariana asked and immediately winced.

  “Way to impress your date, Ari,” Aunt Dee said under her breath.

  “He’s not my date,” she hissed. Yet she wanted him to like her family as much as she expected him to leave screaming. She didn’t understand why she cared either way.

  “Tell it to someone who believes you,” her aunt said in a voice filled with glee.

  But Ariana was still thinking about and regretting her comment. After all, not everything the Costas family did was a con. The Addams Family show, for example. Now that was real. It was just the other 99 percent of their activities that Ariana worried over.

  Quinn’s expression revealed nothing about his feelings. He probably thought Ariana had been kidding, since what people in their right minds operated a scam a day?

  She glanced at her father, who also seemed unfazed by her comment. He was used to her expressing her emotions. It was the Greek in her, he always said.

  And he continued after Aunt Dee hushed up. “Well, I’m certainly not going to spend our hard-earned money on something the cops can come in and close down. I want you and Zoe to have something meaningful from your parents. And I know Zoe will approve when she comes home.” He paused, emotion clogging his words. He glanced up at the ceiling and everyone grew silent.

  Ariana knew they were thinking of Zoe. She was too. And more than ever, she prayed Quinn was an honorable man.

  Nicholas cleared his throat. “This spa will give us a feeling of security-we won’t have to rely only on the show from year to year,” he said as he ran a hand over his bald head.

  Ariana looked at him, surprised. She’d thought the show was doing well, but then, she didn’t live at home nor did she visit. How would she really know what was going on? she thought with a twist of guilt in her heart.

  “With this layout, we can keep our family’s privacy. We wouldn’t want our personal moments exposed for public view, now would we?” Elena asked.

  They had before, Ariana thought, immediately recalling the National Enquirer article from years past, but she decided not to mention that embarrassing time.

  “Quinn, would you like a drink?” Elena switched from giving her opinion to playing hostess. “I mixed up a mango-and-papaya-smoothie. Of course, I added my Yiayia’s secret ingredient.”

  Quinn raised an eyebrow, obviously unsure whether or not to accept. Ariana helped him out with a subtle shake no of her head. Though Yiayia still lived in Greece, like Elena, she didn’t cook.

  “There’s no more,” Nicholas said, sparing Quinn from having to answer.

  “That’s impossible.” Elena started for the refrigerator. “Just this morning there was an entire pitcherful.”

  Nicholas sighed, then placed a hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “Never anger your woman, Quinn. That’s what my father told me, God rest his soul. But sometimes they just put you in a place where it can’t be helped. The drink tasted like crap, Elena. It wasn’t fit for a guest.”

  She narrowed her gaze and started muttering in Greek.

  Ariana knew the signs of a storm brewing, as did Aunt Dee, who buried her nose in the Idiot book while Uncle John began whistling quietly and gathered together the floor plans for the house.

  Ariana had watched this scene play out many times since she was a child. “I can sleep on the couch if you need my bed, Dad.”

  Quinn chuckled.

  “Laugh now, but a Greek woman’s anger knows no bounds.” Nicholas imparted those words of wisdom, patted Quinn on the back, and then turned his attention to his wife, who’d folded her arms across her chest. “Aah, agape mou.”

  He murmured the term of endearment but Elena wasn’t buying it and she slapped his hand. “Don’t try to sweet-talk me. What did you do with my drink? You didn’t pour it down the sink, did you?” She shook her head. “No, because that would be a waste when there are starving people in the world.” She pulled open the refrigerator door.

  “It’s going to get worse before it gets better,” Nicholas said, warning Quinn.

  “There’s none here,” Elena said.

  Nicholas sighed. “I gave it to Spank,” he admitted.

  “Oh, for the love of…” Elena trailed off. All traces of elegance gone in the face of her anger, she slammed the appliance door closed and stomped over to the monkey. “So tell me, did you like my drink? The secret ingredient is one my ancestors swore would restore youth and vitality. I plan to use it in some version at the spa.”

  Spank bared her teeth in an ugly smile, then smacked her lips together and blew Elena a raspberry.

  “She liked it,” Elena said, obviously feeling validated.

  “Actually she felt much better after I gave her some Pepto,” Aunt Dee said.

  “Traitor,” Elena muttered.

  Aunt Dee waved away her sister’s words. “Kiss and make up,” she ordered, pushing Nicholas and Elena together.

  From past experience, Ariana knew things could go one of two ways. Her mother would either turn and walk out, leaving her father on the couch for the night, or they’d retreat to the bedroom, everyone and everything else forgotten, and stay there for hours.

  Personally, Ariana had never met a man whose company she wanted in her bed for all that long. In hindsight not even she and Jeffrey had shared the passion her parents still did, leaving her to wonder if she’d find it with any man.

  Her gaze fell on Quinn and electricity crackled inside her.

  At the same time, her father’s hand came around her mother’s back, pulling her close. He whispered in Elena’s ear, something only she could hear.

  The next few seconds were critical, so Ariana held her breath and counted to three. Elena whirled around, but instead of storming out, she touched Nicholas’s hand. “If you’re serious, you can make it up to me. Come. Now.” She turned, head held high, and walked out of the kitchen and stormed up the stairs.

  Nicholas grinned. “It’s the best part of fighting, is it not?” Then, not caring that they had an audience, or perhaps performing for them, Nicholas headed out the door, following in his wife’s footsteps.

  Embarrassed as she always was at their display, Ariana turned around for sympathetic nods from Aunt Dee and Uncle John, but sometime during her parents’ show, they’d disappeared, leaving Ariana alone. With Quinn.

  The one man she could see keeping in her bed for a long time to come.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I thought we were having dinner with your parents,” Quinn said as he started the truck outside Ari’s house. “Elena said she was cooking.” Much as he hated to admit it, he’d been looking forward to a home-cooked meal.

  “You actually sound disappointed.” Ari shook her head in obvious amazement. “I’m sorry, Quinn, but my mother had you fooled. She’s not a traditional Greek woman.”

  “I never mistook Elena for traditional. I just thought when she said she’d cook, she meant it.”

  “Obviously you don’t know my mother’s version of cooking.�
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  “Any version of home cooking would be a damn sight more appetizing than the stuff that any of my foster mothers used to serve.” Realizing how much he’d given away, Quinn quickly shifted topics. “So tell me what Elena meant.”

  Ari rolled her head to the side, meeting his gaze. In her eyes, Quinn saw questions. He clenched the steering wheel tight. No matter that he’d brought up the subject, it wasn’t one he wanted to get into.

  “My mother makes a phone call and dinner is delivered from the Greek diner in town,” she explained.

  Whether Ari read his mind or simply skimmed the topic of his past on purpose, he didn’t know. But he was grateful. “Greek diner. Why am I not surprised?” he asked, laughing.

  She chuckled. “Aunt Kassie owns the diner.”

  “I’ll have to check it out one day.”

  “Be nice to me and maybe I’ll take you.” She not so subtly walked her fingers across the back of his seat until she reached his collar and dipped her hand into his shirt.

  His neck tingled and he liked the sensation. “Define nice.”

  “Where’s my sister?” she asked, not missing a beat.

  He let out a groan and, unwilling to fall prey to her feminine wiles, volleyed the next change of subject right back at her. “I didn’t meet your Aunt Kassie, did I?”

  “I’ll take that as a sign you aren’t ready to play nice.” She blew out a frustrated puff of air. “No, you haven’t met Aunt Kassie. Her work at the diner keeps her busy and out of family trouble.”

  “Just like your work keeps you away and out of family trouble?”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Don’t bother asking questions when you won’t answer mine. And don’t pretend to know me.”

  “I’m not pretending. I know a little, and by the time we’re through with each other, I have a hunch I’ll know a lot more.” But more intimate knowledge wouldn’t come now. She was angry that he wouldn’t answer her questions, so instead he decided to hit on a lighter topic. “Tell me about the monkey.”

  A reluctant smile pulled at her lips and she shook her head. “I don’t know. I came home and there he… I mean she was. The dress was something new.”

  He chuckled. “Your family’s a riot.”

  She turned her gaze his way. “Not many people think so,” she murmured. “But they obviously like to take in strays.”

  The word “stray” distracted his thoughts from Ari’s relationship with her family to his own problems and triggered a reminder of Sam. “Oh shit.” He glanced at the street sign and took the nearest right.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We have to make a stop first. I have to talk to some friends. It’s important or I wouldn’t take the time.” He drove through the side streets, winding his way toward Sam’s foster parents’ house.

  “What about my job?” Ari asked, though from the way she’d folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the car seat, she was resigned to whatever errand he had to run.

  “It’ll be there when you get back.” He glanced at his watch. “Besides, we were planning on having dinner at your parents’. It’s not like you’re going to be late.”

  But he was days overdue checking on Sam and talking to Aaron and Felice. Quinn couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about Sam’s problems, but between Ariana and Damon, Quinn had his hands full.

  Especially since two years of cultivating Damon’s trust was about to come to fruition. Damon had just asked Quinn to oversee operations this weekend so he could get away with his most recent bimbo. Quinn would be able to compare the videotapes of the counting room with the books Damon turned over to the IRS. With a little luck, he’d also find the real books that documented the actual take from the casino. He was so close to the end he could actually taste it.

  But that didn’t mean Quinn could let Sam’s problems get lost. The system did that too often. She had to know there was one person she could count on.

  He pulled the car to a halt in front of a pretty house, yellow clapboard with white trim and black shutters. The kind of house Quinn had dreamed of growing up in with two parents, brothers, sisters, and a pet inside. He slipped the gearshift into park.

  “Can we get something to eat in the casino before my shift?” Ari asked.

  “Behave now and I’ll consider feeding you. Wait here. This shouldn’t take long.” On impulse, he touched her nose with his fingertip before turning and climbing out of the truck, leaving one problem and heading for another.

  • • •

  After watching Quinn walk into the house and the door shut behind him, Ariana realized he wouldn’t be right back. She grabbed her bag and moved into the back seat of his truck. Blocked by tinted windows, she quickly changed into her work uniform. The short black skirt and tight white T-shirt with “Damon’s” scrawled across her breasts was a sight she hadn’t wanted her family to see.

  She planned on telling them about her new job at the same time she told them she wasn’t leaving again for Vermont soon, as originally planned. Any sooner and they’d be meddling in her life, something neither she nor Zoe could afford.

  She tied her last sneaker and glanced out the window. Still no sign of Quinn. “Damn the man.” As long as she was early for work, she’d hoped she could implement her plan to convince Maria she had no interest in Connor. But if Quinn didn’t hurry up, she was out of time and luck.

  Another five minutes passed and Ariana ran out of patience. She grabbed her purse, left the truck and walked up the driveway to the house, then followed the bluestone steps that led to the front door.

  “Who are you?” a voice coming from the bushes to her right asked. A young, female voice.

  “That depends on who’s asking.” Ariana glanced around, but didn’t see anyone.

  “I’m back here. Behind the big bush and in front of the prickly ones.”

  Ariana followed the direction and caught sight of a baseball cap peeking out from between the surrounding greenery. “Well, show yourself. I’m not coming in to find you.”

  “Not a nature girl, huh?” the young voice asked.

  “Not when I can avoid it,” Ariana answered.

  “Can’t say I blame you.” A teenage girl popped out of the landscaping, a hunter-green cap on her head and blonde hair hanging down her back. “I didn’t think Quinn would go for the preppy type either. You look okay though.” She had huge, sad eyes that seemed to see and know too much, and she stared at Ariana. And she couldn’t be any more than thirteen.

  “I’m glad I have your seal of approval.”

  The girl crossed her arms over her chest. “I haven’t decided that yet.”

  “Well, I’m Ariana and I’m a friend of Quinn’s. Who are you?” Who was this child to Quinn? Ariana wondered.

  The girl came up beside Ariana. “Nobody important.”

  Ariana’s heart squeezed tight in her chest. “You’re wrong or you wouldn’t know Quinn.” She didn’t know how or why she knew that to be true. She just did.

  “He’s okay,” the kid said, grudgingly.

  “Okay” seemed to be the operative word of the moment. Before they could continue their conversation, Quinn stormed out of the house, slamming the screen door behind him. He ran down the steps, nearly barreling into Ariana. “Ari,” he said, surprised.

  She felt Sam bump her from the other side, then Quinn’s hands came out and grabbed her forearms tightly. “What the hell are you doing here? I told you to wait in the car.” His eyes appeared darker than before, as if a black cloud had settled over him.

  “I needed fresh air and I was just talking to-” Ariana glanced around, but the teenager had disappeared. No sign of the baseball hat in the bushes, either. “Someone,” she muttered.

  “Well, let’s get the hell out of here.” Obviously upset, he led her to the car and headed out of the neighborhood and back toward Atlantic City and the casino.

  “I met a friend of yours,” Ariana said into the oppressive silence. He hadn’t ev
en turned on the car radio. “But she wouldn’t give me her name.”

  “It’s Sam.” His fingers clenched the steering wheel tighter.

  “Your sister?” she hazarded a guess, though she hadn’t noticed a resemblance between Quinn and the young girl beyond the sandy hair color.

  He shook his head. “McDonald’s okay with you?”

  “It’s fine. Look, I don’t want to pry into your private life-”

  “Then don’t.”

  “But she was upset and so are you. And I’m a good listener.”

  Quinn pulled into the drive-through of a McDonald’s rest stop off the Garden State Parkway, then leaned one arm over the back of her seat and glanced her way. “If you miss psychology so much, why don’t you go back to teaching and leave me alone?” he asked without much heat in his voice.

  “Because it’s so much more fun bothering you.”

  “Can I help you?” a voice asked through the microphone.

  Quinn placed their orders without asking her preference, drove around to the window, and took the bags, handing them to Ariana to sort through. She didn’t think it was wise to argue with him right now, so she let him pay.

  She bit into her hamburger and watched as he did the same. He’d been distracted since leaving the house and she wanted to know why. More, she wanted to help him deal with what was bothering him. Not just because it would be a good distraction from her own problems, but because she liked him better when he was smiling. But she couldn’t figure out a way to get him to open up, so she munched on a french fry in silence.

  Since she obviously wasn’t going to get any information out of Quinn by pumping him, she remained quiet the rest of the way to Damon’s, and five minutes later the glittering lights of the casino came into view.

  Instead of leaving the truck with the doormen at the front, Quinn pulled around back and into the garage, circling around till he reached his reserved spot in the back. Ariana crumpled her wrapper and put all her garbage into the bag, then reached for the door handle.

  “Sam’s in foster care.”