Some Like Them Rich

by Shirley Hailstock

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “Killing time. I’m going riding in a few minutes.”

  “You like horses.”

  I nodded, not bothering to tell him I hadn’t known of this love for the noble beasts until I set foot on this island.

  “What a coincidence. I’m going riding, too.”

  “I don’t ride that well,” I told him. I wouldn’t want him to think I was an expert rider and then see me bouncing around like a rubber ball in the saddle.

  “Neither do I. I’ve been a few times over the years. And since I’m going to have some time off, I thought I’d check out some of the attractions.”

  “When you travel, don’t you get to see places?”

  He was shaking his head before I finished the question.

  “The airport, hotel, and concert hall is usually it.

  ““That’s a bummer.”

  “I’ve been around the world and seen very little of it. We usually go from one job to another. With setup, rehearsals, and breakdown, there is little time for sightseeing.”

  “But the Vineyard is different?”

  “Mike is taking a vacation, so we have some time to ourselves.”

  “And you decided to spend yours on a horse?”

  “And with you,” he said, his tone low and sexy.

  I couldn’t help but smile back. He offered his arm in an exaggerated gesture and I took it. The warmth of him was as tantalizing as sugar cookies.

  “What do you do?” Shane asked as we walked toward the stables.

  “I own a consulting firm,” I lied. Well, it wasn’t a total lie. I’d thought about consulting, and since I lost my job I’d taken a few contract positions that lasted either a few weeks or a few months. If I stretched the definition of consulting, I suppose it was partially true.

  “What kind of consulting?”

  “Mainly computer systems. I go into companies and train their employees on how to access information. Sometimes from the Internet, sometimes from proprietary programs. You’d be surprised at the number of people who still don’t understand how to use the technology sitting on their desks.”

  “Sounds very technical. Do you have a large clientele?”

  I shook my head. “It’s small and select.” I added the last to make it appear that I was financially sound.

  Luckily we reached the stable at that moment and I was saved from any further lies.

  “Do you have a certain path that you follow?” Shane asked when we were in the saddle.

  “I try to go a different route each time,” I said.

  “Lead on.” He gestured with one hand.

  I turned the horse, pulling on the reins so it went left and headed toward the woods. We walked along side by side for a while. I was racking my brain trying to think of something clever to say. Of course, nothing came to mind. Even the mundane eluded me.

  “So how long is the vacation Mike Adams is taking?” I asked, feeling a need to break the silence stretching between us.

  “The rest of the summer.

  ““Two months?”

  “Maybe longer. He’s going to write some new songs and he won’t be touring.”

  “Are you staying here that long?”

  “I’m thinking about it.”

  Shane’s words made my heart act a little funny. He was going to be trouble for me. I liked him, and that wasn’t good. I was here to find a rich husband, not a member of the band. I could hear Amber’s voice in my head.

  “Can you afford to take that much time off?” I asked seriously.

  He laughed. “I won’t starve, if that’s what you’re asking.” Then he got serious. “We plan for downtime.”

  “That’s good.” Most people didn’t understand how to budget from one paycheck to the next. They were often overextended with credit cards maxed to the limit.

  “And now that I don’t have to work and I’m staying on the Vineyard, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

  I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest. I had no plans for the evening. I liked this big man. He was tender and kind, and he had the nicest eyes and a winning smile.

  The morning sailed by because Shane shared it with me. As on that first morning we met, he regaled me with stories. I laughed at some of the mishaps that had beset the band in places like Auckland, New Zealand, and Malaysia. I could have stayed with him all the way to dinner and through it, but he had some business to take care of. We parted at the door to the house. He kissed me on the cheek and confirmed our dinner date.

  I walked in the house feeling lighter than air. Shane’s lips were soft against my skin. I could feel his hands, large and strong, steadying me. Emotion welled up inside me from the whisper of my ears to my painted toenails.

  Chapter 14

  “I’m going to be gone for the weekend,” Jack announced just as I brought the sandwich to my mouth. I stopped before biting into it. We were on the beach, at the Inkwell. The three of us had just finished a game of volleyball and we were all famished and thirsty.

  We rarely saw each other for any length of time. We passed each other coming and going or we saw each other over morning coffee in the kitchen, but we hadn’t had a girls’ night out since our first night here. Lila had suggested we meet here for a few hours of girl talk.

  And Jack greeted us with her declaration.

  “What?” Lila asked. “Where? With whom?”

  “Why?” I asked. “Where are you going? This is the first I’ve heard of you leaving.” I glanced at Lila, then back at Jack.

  She’d been to the stables this morning. She went there every day, even suggested that Lila and I join her. She’d talked so much about horseback riding that I felt obliged to try it before leaving the Vineyard. I wasn’t sure I even liked horses, let alone wanted to sit precariously atop one of the beasts. It was enough for me to see some dead general immortalized in bronze along a highway or sitting in a park where only the pigeons noticed him.

  But Jack seemed enamored of them. And the exercise was paying off. She’d lost a few pounds.

  “It happened last night. I was out with Shane and he was telling me he knows Jordan West. He says Jordan was his best friend in high school and that the two of them are still tight.” She crossed her index and middle finger to demonstrate. “I called his bluff, and right then and there he whips out his cell phone and calls the dude.”

  “Shane?”

  “Shane. He’s someone I met recently.”

  Her voice sounded a little strange, but I let it go. I knew who Shane was. He was a member of Mike Adams’s band.

  “It was the night I went to the music festival.”

  “I thought you went with …” I was lost for a name. It seemed there had been so many men who had come into Jack’s life in the past few weeks, I was losing track.

  “I went with Lila,” Jack said. “And I came back with her, too, but that’s where I saw Shane.”

  “Saw him?”

  “It was the second time. I met him in a tiny shop. Well, outside of it. We were both writing postcards. I shared his table.”

  I remember her relaying the story the day she did my hair. She’d left out a few details and I knew it.

  “Jack, do you feel comfortable enough to go away with him? How do you know it was really Jordan West?” I heard a loud sound behind me and checked the volleyball game. Obviously someone had made the winning shot. “I mean, anyone can be impersonated over a phone.”

  “Right, which is why I’m going away for the weekend. Jordan West is in Vermont doing a concert this weekend. He invited us up to see the show.”

  “Jack, are you serious? I mean, you don’t really know this guy.” I was concerned about her going away with a virtual stranger. Would she be safe?” He seems like a nice guy and he has a winning job, but that’s no indication that he’s not a pervert or worse.”

  “He’s not a pervert,” Jack said. She shifted on the blanket, turning to stare directly at
me. “I understand your concern, Amber.” She swung her glance between me and Lila. “I like Shane, but I don’t blindly trust him. I’ve already told him that the first sign of a lie on his part and I’m gone. If Jordan West himself does not meet us at the airport when the plane lands, I go no further.”

  “You promise?” I asked.

  Jack’s stare turned dark. She raised herself up on her knees and put her hands on her hips. “Amber, I’m from Brooklyn.”

  The test of my resolve with Don came the very next morning when I drove Jack to the ferry that would take her and Shane back to the mainland and then to her trip to see Jordan West.

  The last person I expected to see was Don. He hadn’t been on the beach this morning or any morning since my tennis game with Bob. Don walked off the ferry dressed to kill. Most people came off wearing jeans or casual clothes. He had on a gray suit that must have cost him a month’s pay. He looked like a Southern preacher. His eyes met mine. For a second, I looked back, then I turned to Jack.

  “There he is,” Jack said. “Now’s your chance.”

  I wanted to glanced at Don, but forced myself to remain with my back to him. It would be easy to walk over, especially since every fiber within me was telling me to go and apologize. I wanted to go, but I wouldn’t. Turning away, I walked with Jack to meet Shane.

  He wasn’t tall and thin, the kind of man Jack usually went for. Shane Massey ran counter to form. He was tall and built, muscle-hard and looking more like a bodybuilder than a guy who played piano. He shook my hand and smiled. He had incredible eyes. They were light, amber colored, and contrasted with his dark skin. His handshake was firm, confident. He was likable, but I was still wary of Jack going away with him.

  “I left the paper with where we’ll be staying on the kitchen counter,” Jack said. “We’ll be back on Monday.”

  I hugged her. “Have a good time,” I said, then whispered, “Call me if there’s any sign of trouble.”

  I shook hands with Shane again and watched as they stepped from land to sea. I waited until the ferry left, then returned to the car. I thought of Don, seeing him dressed in his suit and looking every inch the GQ man. As I approached the parking area and looked at my car, I stopped in my tracks. Don casually leaned against the fender, his ankles and arms both crossed. He wore a smile that could melt granite.

  We stared at each other without saying anything. Then I started walking again.

  “Good morning, Don,” I said when I was within earshot, not slowing my stride by a single step. I got into the car and started the engine. He stepped away, turning to face me. I didn’t wait to hear what he had to say. Putting the car in gear, I drove away. I didn’t bother to look back. He had avoided me for a week. Just because I happened to run into him was no reason to change his tactics.

  Or mine.

  Don was out of my life. He shouldn’t have been there in the first place. But he’d chosen the path. For a week I’d expected to find him jogging toward me. He’d avoided me. His getting over his tantrum was no reason for me to play mother and open my arms, welcoming him back into my life. He had no place in my life or my future.

  But it appeared Don wouldn’t be so easily shrugged off. The phone was ringing when I got back to the house and opened the front door. Some mental telepathy told me it was Don.

  It rang five times before I lifted the receiver.

  “Hello.”

  “Good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you?” I was confused by the voice, ready to hear Don’s deep-throated baritone. “This is Casey Edwards.”

  I sat down, my legs suddenly weak from the absence of adrenaline that had me pumped up to rebuke Don Randall.

  “I know it’s short notice, but Joel and I are going on a picnic and Joel suggested we ask you along. I’d like you to come, too. Are you game?”

  I smiled. “It sounds like a plan,” I said.

  “Good. I’ll pick you up at noon.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  I hung the phone up. A picnic was nice. It would give me something to do to keep my mind off Don. And if he happened to see me out with Casey, good!

  Casey drove past the Inkwell and went to a different beach. I felt a sigh of relief when we passed the much-lauded beach that was well-known to African American visitors and very well populated as a hunting ground for every single man and woman on the Vineyard.

  He’d had the hotel pack a picnic basket. While Joel and I spread a blanket on the sand, Casey unpacked the car.

  “I wanna go swimming,” Joel announced as sand chairs were unfolded and coolers set within arm’s reach. He looked at his father.

  “Sure.” Casey grabbed his hand. “Join us?” he asked me. The three of us ran toward the water. The surf caught us cold. Both Joel and I recoiled and took several steps back before venturing farther into the water. After a while we were playing and swimming and laughing as if we’d known each other for years. Anyone watching us might have thought we were a family, that Joel was my son and Casey my husband.

  Casey was affectionate, catching me around the waist now and then and dousing me in the water. He did nothing overt. Maybe because Joel was there, maybe because of our public position, or maybe it wasn’t his nature. But I felt somehow, something was missing.

  Maybe it was me. My attitude.

  Don had made me angry, and for the last few days I’d wondered all manner of things about him. Then seeing him today, healthy and looking good enough to eat, set me on edge. And it shouldn’t.

  I got out of the water, breathing hard, but with a smile on my face. Joel ran by me. “I want some chicken,” he said.

  Casey came up behind me. He slipped his arm around my waist and rested it on my right hip. I smiled at him as if I enjoyed the contact. I should have. I liked Casey, but there was no electricity in his touch. Today he hadn’t talked about himself. In fact, he hadn’t once mentioned his business. I knew he worked for Coca-Cola in their business development department and lived in Atlanta.

  “I have two tickets for the festival tonight,” he said. “I was hoping you’d go with me.”

  “What about Joel?”

  “The hotel has a child-care service. I hired a very nice lady to watch him while we’re enjoying ourselves.” His hand squeezed my hip slightly. “What about it? Are you free?”

  “I’d love to go.”

  “It starts at eight. I could pick you up at six and we could have dinner before going.” “That sounds good.”

  We sat down on the blanket. Joel had already opened the basket and pulled out a container. He was biting into a drumstick, chewing with gusto only known by children.

  “Not so fast, Joel. You don’t want to get sick,” his father said.

  “This is really good,” Joel said. “I talked to the chef at the hotel and he’s the best in the world.”

  “Really,” I said, accepting a covered dish that Casey passed me.

  “He’s lived all over the world and cooked for some of the best restaurants.”

  “How did he come to be at the St. Romaine on Martha’s Vineyard?” I asked, appearing overly interested in his story.

  “Mr. Randall hired him.”

  There he was again. Don. I couldn’t get away from him.

  “Don’s a really nice guy,” Casey said. “He’s allowed Joel to have more freedom at the hotel than most managers would.”

  “Have you known Don long?” I asked, keeping my voice even.

  “We met my first day here, but he’s the architect who’s turned that hotel around.”

  I stabbed a small amount of the macaroni salad with my fork. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a St. Romaine, and if you’ve been in any of the other hotels, you’d know this was little more than a third-class facility a year ago. Probably the bottom of the chain. Then Don took over, and it’s a first-class place now. Getting a room there gets harder every day.”

  How well I knew that, I thought, remembering trying to get a place to sleep and the consequences when
there was no room in the inn.

  “A year doesn’t sound like enough time.”

  “Sounds impossible.” Casey laughed. “But Don put his heart and soul, not to mention his muscles, into the job. And it’s paying off.”

  “I suppose the St. Romaines are glad they found such a good manager in him.”

  “They should be. He’s back this morning, but he spent last week reporting to them.”

  “Reporting?” My ears picked up. Don had been away all week?

  “They had their annual meeting last week and Don was invited to report on the hotel’s progress,” Casey said.

  “Did he … did he say how it went?”

  “I didn’t get to speak for long. We only saw him as Joel and I were leaving the hotel. His face and body language gave nothing away. He always looks and acts the same.”

  I knew differently. Don was multifaceted. He was different each time I’d seen him. There were personality traits that were unreadable and those that screamed at you. He hated what I was doing, yet he’d agreed to help me. He made love to me like the world was about to end, yet he’d disappeared without a word, leaving me wondering.

  “Can we go back in the water now?” Joel asked after finishing his meal. His question interrupted my thoughts, and I was glad of the diversion. I wanted Don out of my head, and talking about him wouldn’t accomplish that. I didn’t need him as an invisible specter intruding on my day.

  “I think we should wait a while to let our food settle,” I told him. I didn’t remember if they had changed that one-hour rule about swimming after eating, but it couldn’t hurt to wait a while.

  Joel looked a little sad.

  “I have an idea.”

  He looked up at me, his eyes hopeful. “Why don’t we build a sand castle?” His face fell.

  “I saw that look. But you’ve never built a sand castle with me. So if you’re not up for the challenge …”

  I turned away, picked up a small bucket, and walked toward the wet sand. Casey followed me. And a moment later Joel joined us.

  We spent the afternoon building the castle, swimming, and eating. Joel dominated the day, asking questions and telling his disjointed stories.