Barefoot Bay_Paradise by Design

by Barbara Barrett

  “Won’t bother us,” he replied.

  Bo thumped him on the back. “Says the old married man. I’d bet money if you went au naturel in this pool, Drew, Tony’d be the first to leave.”

  She snuck a glance at Keegan. Was he listening? If he joined his buddies, she’d manufacture a miraculous discovery of the bikini. “Not to worry, Tony. I’m not one to parade around in my birthday suit.”

  Instead of Keegan, though, Ainsley joined in the banter. “I have a suit I’d loan you, but I don’t think it would fit.”

  “Why don’t you wear it?” Drew asked. “You deserve a break more than me.”

  “I’m seriously considering that spa treatment. I saw that place the other day when we toured the grounds and have been trying to figure out how I’d work in a visit ever since.”

  Keegan didn’t participate in this exchange, choosing instead to check his phone for messages.

  Drew studied him as inconspicuously as she could. He seemed to be deliberately remaining on the sidelines. Even if she’d done something to jeopardize their reunion, why wasn’t he kidding around with his team? Until now, she hadn’t noticed him remaining aloof from them.

  She’d hoped she and Keegan would have one more encounter before they said goodbye. Perhaps one more chance to gather her courage and ask to get back together. Sometime last night she’d decided that was what she wanted, but there hadn’t been an opportunity to broach the subject since her dad returned. Now, they had to get past whatever was on his mind before moving ahead to their future. “Aren’t you going to join them, Keegan?”

  He turned to the team rather than look at her. “After I shower and change clothes, thought I’d take a walk on the beach.”

  “It’s the hottest time of the day out there,” she said.

  “Good for thinking.”

  “Is that what you need to do?”

  Now he did eye her. “Yeah. Alone. Please…understand.” He pivoted and slipped off to her father’s bathroom.

  Understand? She didn’t understand a thing about his actions the last several hours. Obviously, he had something on his mind. Was it her?

  ****

  While the others were gone, Drew drifted around the villa seeking something to occupy her attention. Keegan had made his feelings quite clear, so she’d give him his space. She no longer had the right to push. Something was obviously eating at him, but she had to respect his wishes.

  Maybe later he’d be ready to talk. Before their break-up, he used to let down his defenses and spill his concerns to her. Whether they got back together or not, maybe they could at least revive that earlier level of trust and communication.

  She checked in again with her dad. Mrs. Coleman, the nurse, glanced up from her knitting. “How’s he doing?” Drew kept her voice low, because he appeared to be sleeping.

  “He’s bored,” the man said, opening his eyes. “Haven’t spent this much time in bed since I had chicken pox as a kid.”

  “So, you’re having a great time.” Best not cater to his mood.

  “Good thing Carol here has read some of the same books as me. We’ve been conducting our own two-person book club meeting throughout the day.”

  Drew turned to Mrs. Coleman. “I’m glad you had that in common. My reading tastes don’t match Dad’s.”

  The nurse rolled up her project and stuck both it and her ball of yarn in a bag. “I don’t tend to remember authors and titles, just the highlights of the plot. It’s been a bit like a game show. I describe a story and he supplies the author and title. Interesting way to discuss books.”

  “Carol says I can get up tomorrow.”

  “As long as you don’t overdo.” The nurse seemed to know just how much leeway to give Drew’s father and when to curtail his enthusiasm.

  “You’re leaving?” Drew asked.

  “I work the day shift, and I don’t think it’s necessary to bring in a night nurse for Burgess. He hasn’t shown any signs of concussion, so I think he got lucky with his spill.” After profuse thanks from both Drew and her dad, the nurse took her leave.

  “See, sweetie. I’m okay. Not to worry about your old man.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, especially since we have company tonight.”

  “Ah, yes. Keegan and his gang. Looks like we were the only port in the storm, in a manner of speaking.”

  She plumped his pillows for him. “I’m fine with their being here, but it would have been nice if you’d left me a note before dropping off to sleep.”

  “Oops. Sorry. But I didn’t think you’d mind, especially having Keegan around one more night.”

  Apparently her dad hadn’t been fooled by Keegan’s explanation of his presence this morning. It had been pretty obvious. So be it. At the moment, it didn’t appear anything further would come of it. Why did the mere thought of their reunion coming to an abrupt end make her want to cry, and her insides feel bereft? It would be so great to curl up in her dad’s arms and let him comfort her, tell her everything would turn out right, but he wasn’t up to playing protective parent yet, as much as he might argue the point.

  “Why don’t you go enjoy our private pool? You haven’t used that new bathing suit that you bought just for this trip.”

  She put a finger to her mouth. “Shh. I told them I didn’t bring one. Bo and Tony are already enjoying the pool. I didn’t feel like joining them, especially the way they’re splashing around like twelve-year-olds. Finishing a shoot must release a torrent of otherwise restrained playfulness.”

  “Where are the other two?”

  “Ainsley’s at the Spa, and Keegan’s walking the beach.”

  He frowned. “And you didn’t go with him?”

  Yep, her dad was on to them.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Walking the beach of Barefoot Bay in the height of the afternoon sun and heat was not one of Keegan’s better ideas. Within minutes, he gave it up and found his way to a tree-lined path instead. Probably should have jumped on one of the golf carts and checked out the property one last time. Better yet, he could be forgetting the difficult decisions on his plate back at the bar in the main building. In air conditioning.

  If he’d stuck around the villa, the guys would have taunted and cajoled until he jumped in the water with them. Not that a brisk dip would have been so bad. But he didn’t trust himself around Drew. If she joined them for a swim, how long before he would have been messing around with her, which would have led to…couldn’t go there. If she weren’t in the pool, Drew would most likely approach him to ask why he’d been so distant since morning. He wasn’t ready to spill.

  He needed to call Brian, but first he had to decide. The question was pretty clear: continue with the show or become Jensen Acres’ lead architect? Why was he having so much difficulty coming up with the answer? Surely he didn’t think this show offered him more security. The network could end his globetrotting any minute. Had running into Drew short-circuited his usual decision-making powers?

  Drew. Yeah, therein lay his problem. The very person he so wanted to consult about his career decision was the very one he had to avoid until he knew what kind of future he’d be offering her. Catch-22.

  After half an hour, having come to no conclusion, he gave it up and returned to the villa.

  Maybe Ainsley had convinced Drew to accompany her to the spa. He could only hope. The guys were still in the pool and so involved in their water antics they didn’t notice him. Burgess was in bed, and there was no sign of the women. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and wandered out to the patio. It was relatively cool in the shade. He lowered his frame onto one of the deck chairs, sipped the cold liquid and returned to mulling over his troubles.

  “There you are,” Drew said from the doorway. “I thought I heard you come in but couldn’t find you.”

  Not the person he wanted to see right now. “Needed some alone time.”

  She eyed him with a curious expression. “So you said. Okay, I’ll continue to give you your space.
Just as soon as you tell me what I did to offend you since this morning.”

  Hell. Just what he didn’t want to discuss. Maybe he could bluff his way through this. “Offend me? What do you mean?”

  When she settled into the chair next to him, he caught the fragrance of lilies-of-the-valley in spring. Delicious. Another thing he didn’t need.

  “I think you do. This morning you couldn’t get enough of me. Since the Farrell interview, you’ve kept your distance.”

  Could he hold her off with half the truth? He fixed his eyes directly into her helpful yellow-brown gaze. “I received a message this morning that could change my life. It’s weighing on my mind. Sorry if some of my frustration rubbed off on you.”

  She stared at him a few beats, as if debating what to say next. “Would you like to talk about it?”

  Yes. Tell me if we could be together again if I become a full-time architect. He shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but for now I have to think this through on my own.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Her reply was heavy with disappointment. “I’m relieved it isn’t something I did.”

  He hoped that would satisfy her enough to leave.

  Drew threaded her fingers through her hair. “Look, I realize we’ve just reached speaking-to-each-other-again stage. Ending things between us back then gives me no right to intervene in your life now, but…”

  “No, it doesn’t. The sex was great. For old times’ sake. I’m glad we’ve reconnected enough to spend a little time with each other.” Okay, he’d given her that much. Now he had to be strong and get rid of her. “But that doesn’t mean we’ve resumed the old closeness.” God, he was being such a prick. She only wanted to help.

  “I just thought you could use a sounding board.”

  “What I could use is some privacy.”

  She rose and backed away. Blinked. More than once. Several times. “I…I, okay, I get the message.” She slipped away without another word.

  His stomach felt as if he’d swallowed cement. Damn! He’d hurt her. Sure, she’d hurt him, too, but her reasons then had been noble. His today? Purely selfish. But he had to get his own life in order before he’d consider complicating hers.

  His phone rang. Couldn’t he get a spare minute to himself? Brian. “I know what you want, partner.”

  “So? What’s the verdict? Should I go apartment-hunting for you?”

  “It’s barely been six hours, man. I told you I’d let you know within the next twenty-four.”

  “The developers are getting antsy. I just got off the phone with their rep. He didn’t understand why we hadn’t signed the contract yet.”

  “Good grief, they only notified us this morning. They took well over eleven months to make up their minds.”

  “I don’t disagree, buddy, but now that they’ve reached this point they’re ready to charge ahead. Apparently the local press got wind of the deal and plan to air what they found on the news tonight. The developers are anxious to issue a press release to beat them to the punch.”

  “Maybe you should become point man, then. We can’t afford to lose this project. It’ll make our careers.”

  “If they push me to the wall, that’s what I’ll have to do, but it’s not my preference. This is your baby. Besides, although they haven’t come right out and said so, they want you. Not that your design concept isn’t the best of the best, but I’m guessing your celebrity drove our firm past the competition.”

  A consideration that hadn’t eluded Keegan. One of the reasons he’d hadn’t accepted the job immediately. Would his celebrity get in the way of his talent if he went back into private life? If it did, could his ego handle it? On the other hand, if that’s what had gotten them the job, could he use it to his advantage? “If they call before tomorrow, tell them I’m committed one hundred percent to this show and intend to wrap up my run without burning bridges.”

  “Then you have decided,” Brian said, jumping on Keegan’s words. “You’re gonna do this.”

  “I didn’t say that. Whenever I leave this show, I plan to do it in style. But if the developers want me for my TV cred, then suggest that cred could be jeopardized if I leave my bosses in the lurch or if word of my leaving gets out too soon.”

  Brian didn’t reply for a few beats. “I’m not a PR man, Keegan. But I’ll do my best, if it comes to that.”

  “You’ll do fine.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  He rang off on that hopeful note.

  Keegan stared across the patio at the vast expanse of the Gulf. So beautiful. And peaceful. Was he ready to trade locales like this for the Arctic winters of Wisconsin?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Stupid, stupid, stupid! Keegan had made it quite clear when he went for his walk that he needed to be by himself. But that hadn’t stopped Drew from corralling him almost the minute he returned. He said it wasn’t her, that he had some big life decision to make. Most likely that was true, but there seemed to be more he wasn’t telling her.

  Could she blame him? As much as she now would like to be, she was no longer his confidante. He wanted to make this decision without her. She had to respect his desires.

  Desires? Why had that word popped in her head? Because that was all she’d been able to think about since last night—desire, passion, sex. Love. Love? Of course, love. Her libido may be satiated for now, but there’d been more than the physical release of intercourse happening last night. She loved this man. She may have buried it deep inside the last several years, but it was still there, stronger than ever.

  When you loved someone you gave them their space. Despite her hurt feelings, that’s what she’d do. At least for a little while. The delay in their schedule had given them a reprieve, one more chance while they were both still here on the island to make right what she’d destroyed once upon a time.

  Putting on her best fake smile, she returned to her dad’s room. “Think I’ll get back to your project. I stuck all the stuff in one of your dresser drawers when the others arrived.” She retrieved two piles of documents and stacked one on top of the other. In so doing, a single piece of paper slipped out and fell to the floor. She picked it up and placed it on top. “Call if you need anything. I’ll leave the door open.”

  Though the guys’ luggage took up part of the great room, there was still plenty of space around the desk she’d been using to work on her father’s documents. She turned on her laptop and sorted the documents into the various piles she’d established earlier.

  Finally, she returned to the document that had fallen on the floor of her father’s room. It was a letter from Harvey Powell, her father’s former partner and the real crook, to Jason Mortimer, whoever he was. More a letter to a friend than a business letter. Powell described his plans for a flower garden he would be planting the coming spring. Mortimer must have been a gardener as well because Powell went into great detail about the dimensions and layout. He even included the dates he intended to plant each type of flower. Weird. Did people still engage in this kind of correspondence? Especially Harvey Powell. She didn’t remember him as either into gardening or that chatty.

  She returned to her father’s room, letter in hand. “I found this in the documents you gave me. I have no idea how it fits into the overall picture.” She handed it to him.

  He retrieved his eyeglasses from the small table next to the bed and read it through once, then another time. “Where did you say you got this?”

  She explained how the letter had come to be on the top of the pile.

  He wrinkled his forehead, apparently trying to recall how the document had come into his possession. He glanced at it again. “It’s dated February 12. That was about a week before all hell broke loose. Everything happened so fast that week. I remember being in Harvey’s office around that time, because he was signing a Valentine card, presumably to his wife.”

  “Could you have picked this up without realizing it?”

  He scratched his chin. “I had several client folders with m
e. I’d been reviewing them, and the numbers weren’t making sense. I thought maybe he knew something about them.”

  “Which he did, because they were some of the people he’d been bilking.”

  “He claimed total ignorance. I gathered them up and left.” He narrowed his eyes as if replaying the scene in his head and then clapped his hands. “I know! This must’ve been underneath where I set them.”

  Drew blew out a breath. Was it a waste of time focusing on this letter rather than proceeding with the rest of the project? “That solves the mystery of how you got it. But what about the contents? Was Harvey into gardening? And who’s this Jason Mortimer?”

  “Never heard of him. But then, it’s not like we shared all our clients. That’s what saved my people from Harvey’s shenanigans.”

  Shenanigans? The man was a consummate criminal. But why rub it in? “If something occurs to you, let me know.”

  Just to relieve her curiosity, she searched the name on the Internet. Although she found several entries, none of their descriptions jumped out at her, nor did the address on the letter match any of the states listed with the various Jason Mortimers. Undeterred, she also looked up Harvey Powell and skimmed the contents. She’d almost clicked off when a name caught her eye. Elsie Mortimer Powell, Harvey’s mother.

  This couldn’t be a coincidence.

  She considered calling Harvey’s wife but changed her mind. Too much bad blood still existed between the two families.

  She attempted to tell the patient about her discovery, but he was sleeping when she went to ask. This could wait. She had more than enough documents in that stack to review. Hopefully, they’d keep her mind off Keegan.

  Chapter Seventeen

  As he waited for the text from Clay saying he’d returned, Keegan replayed in his head his experience here at Casa Blanca, because it represented his dilemma in a microcosm, and what his future could be. He could get through the filming of interiors or interviews without the siren song of being a full-time architect resonating in his ears every few minutes. Interiors weren’t his specialty.