Silver eyes and a brilliant smile flashed in his mind’s eye and the corner of his mouth inched into a smile. His attraction to Sunny skipped the sparks of attraction and rocketed to near-detonation. Hell, he couldn’t remember anyone ever affecting him as strongly as Sunny.
Reeling his wayward libido under control, he redirected his attention to Max. “Jen and Tiffany were here when I arrived to pick Callie up.”
He'd been both relieved and irritated. Relieved he wouldn't have to be alone with Callie, irritated because those three would make a saint swear.
He glanced out the window overlooking the pool and guesthouse. “I imagine they'll sleep late this morning.”
Max’s gaze followed Gavin’s, and his shoulders slumped. “I thought after spending the past six months in Europe, she’d be more serious. I hoped she’d have the partying behind her and be more settled.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do with her.”
Start by cutting up her credit cards and making her find a job.
As if remembering he wasn’t simply talking to an employee and confidant, but also his daughter’s pick as a potential husband, Max brightened and straightened his shoulders. “I'm sure she'll come around soon. Besides, we want her to have this wild streak out of her system before she settles down.” He winked conspiratorially. “Right?”
Gavin propped the ankle of one leg onto the knee of the other and chuckled at Max’s attempt to paint Callie in a positive light. Callie made her intentions toward Gavin clear, and Max wholeheartedly supported her chase. Despite Gavin’s attempts to politely and tactfully let both of them know he wasn’t interested, Max continued to believe Gavin would someday come around.
Wanting to, once again, reiterate his position, Gavin said, “I know what you're trying to do, but I've told you. I don't have any romantic feelings toward Callie.”
Thinking about her attempted seductions the night before started a shudder he had to fight to suppress. When he'd walked the girls to the guesthouse, Jen and Tiffany disappeared like smoke. Before he could get out the door, Callie had her body pressed against his, one hand wrapped around his neck, and the inch-long fingernails of the other scraping down his chest.
The effect had been the same as nails on a chalkboard.
Not only did he not think of Callie the way a man would a lover, but when he looked into her dark brown eyes, sparkling silver eyes had shimmered in their place.
“You say that now,”—Max's words snapped Gavin back to the present—“but someday you might feel differently. You're a good man, Gavin. Stable and solid, with a good future ahead of you. I want my daughter with someone who'll treat her well and give her a good life.”
He appreciated Max’s confidence and the compliment, but he wouldn’t ever change his mind. He’d been treated like a member of the family for most of his adult life, and the only feelings he had for Callie were brotherly. But he couldn’t seem to make anyone else understand that. “She’s only twenty-four, Max. Give her time and let her find someone who’ll not only treat her well, but will love her.”
While Max nodded thoughtfully and watched the guesthouse, Gavin switched gears to a more important matter. “That bar in Anticue is quite a place.”
The frown lines in Max’s forehead lifted in direct proportion to the corners of his mouth. “I thought you might find it interesting.”
“I liked the eclectic flair.” Damn, he’d forgotten to get the names of the artists from Sunny.
“Yeah, well, I’m afraid that eclectic mess will need to go.”
Confusion, along with a dash of alarm, bounced around Gavin’s brain. “Excuse me?”
Max half-smiled, half-snarled, an expression Gavin had seen a million times. It was Max’s pit-bull face, which meant Max wanted something that someone stood in his way of getting. Which, in Max’s book, meant war. “You know the resort/condominium complex I’ve wanted to build in Anticue?” He paused for Gavin’s nod. “I finally have a group of individuals who can make it happen.”
Gavin leaned back in his chair and tried to appear relaxed, even as prickles of unease danced across his skin. Most coastal areas of the North and South Carolina coast had been overly developed, but a few barrier islands, like Anticue, remained virtually untouched. The locals liked it that way and had measures in place to keep the area protected. “What about zoning? They have ordinances restricting things like this. That’s why the area wasn’t developed long ago.”
Max’s smiled broadened, losing some of its nastiness and gaining in the confidence department. “Having a group of hand-picked… investors has been the key to getting this project off the ground.”
Ah, in other words, money in the pockets of the right people would ensure the zoning ordinances were modified to accommodate Max's needs.
“That little bar, however, is a fly in the ointment.” Max’s words were like gunshots echoing around the room. “The owner is elusive and obstinate and won’t return phone calls.” Max’s unwavering determination was evident in his expression and demeanor. “We need that property in order to move forward. You need to make it happen.”
Gavin averted his gaze and stared out the window. He understood why the owner had an attachment to the place. Hell, after thirty minutes, he development a warm fuzzy attitude toward it. Well, mostly for the bartender. But the teak bar and old woodwork trimming the windows made the place warm and friendly. The artistic displays added flair, and the people reminded him of the TV show “Cheers.” Everyone knew each other, and it was fun to watch their playful ribbing.
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this yesterday?”
“I was going to. But after you expressed an interest in taking Callie—”
“I didn’t express an interest in taking Callie. She wanted to go. You told me to take her. End of story.” His comment came out harsher than intended, but this deal had him irritated and edgy. He didn’t want to mess with the Blackout. He thought he was checking it out because it was popular and could be duplicated in a Holden resort. Not demolished.
Gavin swallowed the unease swelling in his throat. If they excavated the building, where would Sunny work? What would happen to her and Robby?
Maybe she’d move back to Myrtle Beach.
That thought tempered a little of his trepidation and settled the upheaval in his stomach. If she lived here, maybe he could see her on a regular basis.
But she didn’t like Myrtle Beach. She made that clear when she talked about living here before moving to Anticue.
He drew a hand down his jaw and pulled in a deep breath. “Who owns it?”
Max steepled his fingers and propped his chin on them. “A.L. Black. I don't know any more than that since none of our calls have been returned. I've tried, unsuccessfully, to use my local contacts, since you don't like dealing with the…”—Max waved a hand around in the air, searching for a word Gavin knew would mean underhanded—“unpleasant details.”
Gavin dropped his foot to the floor and grabbed a pen and paper from the corner of Max’s desk. He wrote the owner’s name, then asked, “What’s the owner’s address?”
“311 Atlantic Avenue.”
His gaze shot to Max’s. “That’s the address for the bar.”
Max nodded.
“I suppose this is a priority.”
“Top priority,” Max said. “I need you to make this happen. Fast.”
“Okay,” Gavin said, standing. “I guess I’ll go to Anticue today.” Not a bad way to spend the day. Not only would it give him the opportunity to see Sunny sooner than anticipated, but he’d like to check the island out in the daylight to see how much had changed. Or, as was more likely the case, had not changed.
The same wave of sadness he’d experienced at seeing the abandoned pier crept over him again. After the resort went in, the landscape and atmosphere of the island would change drastically. Nothing about Anticue would ever be the same.
Halfway to the door, Gavin paused and turned around. “Max, do you ever regret
altering the landscape like we do?” Max looked perplexed, so Gavin continued. “Anticue is a nice, sleepy little beach community. They barely have a town, and the beaches are pristine. Do you ever regret what happens after a Holden resort is built?”
Max seemed completely bewildered. “Why should I care? We build luxury condominiums with first-rate amenities. Everything the condo owners and their guests could possibly want is provided onsite. The beach is the beach, regardless of its condition, and they don’t need a large town nearby.”
He should've known Max wouldn't understand. Gavin had asked from the viewpoint of the residents, the ones who liked things the way they were and enjoyed the solitude. Max was single-minded in his pursuit of the next development, regardless of the environmental or personal impact. He nodded to acknowledge Max's answer and sighed. “I'll have my cell if you need me.”
As he exited through the large, oak panel doors of the study, he heard Max say, “I'm counting on you, son.”
From Gavin’s first day on the job, Max had treated him like a son. It was evident from the beginning, for reasons still unknown, that Max would groom Gavin to be his successor.
But for months now, Gavin had been unsettled about his future. This new development caused the unease to snarl and expand, and once again, he questioned if he was the right person for Max’s job. He didn’t think he had the stomach to make the same decisions Max made, or to continue the company in the same direction.
As he approached the massive front doors, Gavin couldn’t shake the sensation that he wasn’t just leaving Max’s house, but crossing over one of life’s significant thresholds.
Chapter Seven
“Oh, God.” Callie squinted against the debilitating morning rays and pushed her sunglasses tight against her face, but the polarized lenses didn’t stop the blinding light from piercing her bloodshot eyeballs. With every footfall drilling a hole into the side of her head, she traversed the brick walkway leading from the guesthouse to the patio, where her father sat reading his Wall Street Journal and eating his breakfast.
At her approach, he lowered the paper and gave her the same warm smile that had greeted her every morning of her life. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make it this morning.”
As she dipped her head to kiss his cheek, the sudden shift in altitude sent a wave of nausea from her stomach to her throat and produced a sledgehammer-worthy whack in her temple. She swallowed hard and gently took her seat, allowing everything in the cranial region to settle back into place. “I’d never miss our breakfast.”
He smiled at her, the adoring father he was, and set the paper aside. “That means the world to me. How are you this morning?”
“I’m good.”
Wise eyes studied her, and his mouth twitched slightly. “Have you ever gotten away with lying to me?”
She tried to laugh, but the agonizing throb in her temple stopped her short. She took a sip of her orange juice and gently shook her head. “No, I don’t think I have.”
“Want to tell me what’s wrong?” After a brief pause, he added, “Besides the hangover.”
She cringed and shook out her napkin. “Do I look that bad?”
She’d hoped her large frame, Hollywood-style sunglasses would keep him from seeing her red and glassy eyes ringed with the deep dark circles, but apparently the disguise wasn’t enough.
He shook his head and smiled. “You know I think you’re always beautiful. Just had a feeling, is all.”
She picked up her fork and flipped a piece of cantaloupe around in her bowl. “I don’t know what to do about Gavin. It seems hopeless to think he’s ever going to care about me. At least the way I do for him.”
“Why do you say that? I thought last night was a positive step. I was a bit surprised, though, to hear you took friends along.”
She stabbed the cantaloupe and brought it to her mouth. As it neared her lips and she caught its sweet scent, her stomach sent out a warning growl: Don’t you dare. Following her stomach’s command, she left the fruit untouched and lowered the fork to her plate. “I thought it might make the evening less awkward.”
She played with the corner of the napkin and debated how honest she should be. Deciding she had nothing to lose and everything to gain, she said, “Sometimes Gavin makes me nervous. Not that I think he would ever hurt me. At least not physically. But he’s so… intense.”
“His intensity is what makes him such an asset to Holden Enterprises. He’s single-minded in his focus.” Max smiled. “Sometimes that can be intimidating.”
He was right, as usual. Most people found her father intimidating. Some even called him dangerous because of his strong personality and tendency to be overbearing.
“There’s more.” His words were a statement, not a question.
She tried to meet his gaze, but couldn’t. “Sometimes, I wonder if he even likes me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone likes you. You’re a beautiful young woman. Any man would be crazy not to fall in love with you.”
“You’re a little biased, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely. But that doesn’t change the facts.”
She wished she shared her father’s confidence. “On the way to Anticue, I tried to engage him in conversation, but it only made him angry.”
Her daddy smiled knowingly. “Gavin’s not a big conversationalist.”
“He spent a lot of time talking to the bartender.” She slumped in her chair. “He was really into her.”
Her father’s gaze drifted to the pool and he… smiled?
“Why are you smiling? It was awful.”
He jerked his attention back to her and frowned. “I’m sorry you were uncomfortable.” Taking hold of her hand, he said, “Sometimes, Gavin’s going to need to do things you might find unpleasant. Probably, the less you know about his work, the better off you’ll be.”
The hangover must be making her brain fuzzy because she couldn’t have heard, or at least understood, her father correctly. “You mean… he was supposed to flirt with the bartender?”
His smiled returned and his eyes gleamed. “He didn’t know it, but that was my plan.”
She pulled her fingers free of his grasp and leaned back in her chair. “Then why did you insist I go?” How could he be so insensitive to her feelings? And what kind of crazy assignment required Gavin to flirt with a skanky bartender?
Her father’s brow rose. “You’re the one that insisted you go. If you remember, I suggested it wasn’t a good idea. But you argued. If I were too insistent that Gavin go alone, he would've gotten suspicious.”
“Suspicious of what?”
“He would wonder why I didn’t want you to go.”
Needing to concentrate so she could follow this crazy conversation, she scrunched her eyes shut to block the overpowering light. “So… You want Gavin to…”
“Become friendly with the bartender.”
Dread settled over her like a cold, wet blanket. “How friendly?”
“As friendly as necessary.”
Reading her despair, he reached across the table and patted her hand. “Eat your breakfast, sweetheart, and don’t worry about Gavin.” His jaw took on a determined set, and his eyes turned to steel. “Don’t worry about that bartender, either. She’ll be a non-issue in no time.”
He dropped his napkin to the table and pushed his chair back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few phone calls to make.”
Knowing Gavin would be forced to spend time with the bartender made the leftover contents of her stomach bubble and churn like a test-tube science experiment gone wrong. Drastic, heavy-duty diversion tactics would be necessary to get her mind off his assignment, and she could think of only one thing powerful enough to do the trick.
“I’m going shopping with Jen and Tiffany today. Is it okay if I take the black MasterCard?”
“Of course.” He dropped a kiss onto the top of her head and patted her shoulder. “Don’t forget to get something for Lorraine’s
retirement dinner tomorrow night.”
“Oh, shoot. I forgot about the party.” Lorraine had been her father’s secretary since before Callie was born. Her father was throwing a huge party to thank Lorraine for her years of service. Translation: to thank her for all the years she’d tolerated him. Everyone in the organization had been invited, and Callie was sure Gavin would be there. Which meant she needed something extra special to wear. “Do you know Gavin’s favorite color?”
Max chuckled and shook his head. “No, Callie, that’s not something I’ve ever asked.”
Last night, getting a new, wildly sexy, and revealing wardrobe seemed like a great idea. The party offered her the perfect opportunity to try out the new look. But today, in the harsh daylight, she wondered if she had the nerve to go through with it.
***
On the hour-long drive to Anticue, Gavin formulated a plan and made a mental “to-do” list. First stop: the Blackout to see if the owner happened to be around this early in the day.
Wonder what time Sunny goes to work?
He blew out a breath, and forced his thoughts back to his job. Why would A.L. Black be so elusive?
Wonder if he knows where Sunny lives
What would motivate Mr. Black to—
Maybe I could see Sunny before she goes to work?
Jesus Christ. Forgetting about Sunny was like forgetting to breathe. Absolutely impossible. Her cheerful attitude and the way she traded barbs with the locals made him smile, inside and out. Her loyalty to and personal sacrifice for her brother was a testament to her caring nature. And her sex appeal rocketed off the damned charts. Everything, from her unique eye color to the tantalizing necklace, intrigued him. Water pooled in his mouth as he remembered the smell of her strawberry shampoo and the taste of her soft skin. Holy hell, she was a firestorm erupting in his arms, and he couldn’t wait to feel that heat again.
He told himself he brought an overnight bag as a precaution, in case he got tied up trying to locate the owner. But it was time to call bullshit. His plans of staying overnight in Anticue had nothing to do with work, but everything to do with Sunny.
Last Call (Book #2 - Heat Wave Series) Page 6