“What kind of rehab makes you pay in cash?” Kate asked. “Isn’t that like a debtors support group making you pay by credit card?”
“What?” the woman said.
“She meant Pete paid in cash,” Amanda said.
“Oh,” Kate said. “That makes much more sense.” Amanda banged the counter with her fist. Both Kate and the woman jumped.
“I knew it,” she said. “I knew it!” Then, as if remembering she was supposed to stay in character, she shook her head with a “tsk-tsk” and threw a loaded glance to Kate. When Kate didn’t mimic the “tsk-tsk,” Amanda kicked her in the shins. Kate weakly delivered at least one “tsk” and slightly shook her head at the woman.
“I’m sure the cash is good,” Amanda said in a tone that conveyed the opposite. “You checked it out, though, right?” Amanda mimicked holding a bill up to the light to see if it was real or counterfeit. The woman, who was starting to look sick, shook her head no.
“No problem,” Amanda said. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Although if I were you, I’d try to pass those bills off as fast as I could.”
“Is he dangerous?” the woman asked, picking up the picture Amanda had been edging closer and closer to her. Amanda unconvincingly shook her head again. Kate wished she were anywhere but here and wondered if she should put a stop to the madwoman she barely recognized as her best friend.
“Look,” Amanda said. “As long as you kick him out, we’re authorized to refund the money he paid.” She turned to Kate and held out her hand.
“What?” Kate asked.
“You have the authorized credit card, don’t you?”
“Me?”
Amanda nodded vigorously and then leaned in and whispered.
“I’ll pay you back.”
Kate hesitated. She shouldn’t be using her credit card when she was out of a job. But Amanda didn’t know that. Amanda was also slightly forgetful when it came to things like paying a person back.
“I’m not sure they authorized it,” Kate said.
“Let’s just try it,” Amanda said. Kate sighed and dug out her card. Amanda snatched it out of her hand and handed it to the woman. The woman hesitated, and then took it.
“I’m not sure what to do,” the woman said, turning the credit card over in her hand.
“Maybe you’ve suddenly had a convention come to town,” Amanda said. “Or relatives. Yes, relatives came in to surprise you for your birthday!” Amanda leaned so far over the counter her feet were lifted off the floor. She picked up the credit card and swiped it into the machine. “I’m not saying he’s a pervert,” Amanda said as they waited for the card to process. “But this witness herself heard him say he’s on the prowl for naked women.” Amanda landed back on the floor and shoved Kate forward. The woman put both hands over her mouth.
“He seemed so nice,” the woman said, ripping the receipt out of the machine. Kate didn’t even want to look at the amount. “So heartbroken. He was left at the altar you know.”
“Liar!” Amanda shouted.
“Panda,” Kate said. “Calm down.” Amanda leaned over the counter again until she was only an inch from the woman’s face.
“Seconds before the bride was about to say ‘I do,’” Amanda said in a voice that would have scared the most seasoned exorcist, “the groom was contemplating molesting one of the bridesmaids.” The woman gasped, flipped Pete’s picture upside down, and picked up the phone.
“Mr. Dean,” she said after a moment. “I’m afraid I have some bad news. My sister is coming to town, quite unexpectedly, and she’s bringing…all of my cousins.”
Kate waited until they were on their way home, and Amanda announced she wanted to take it easy the rest of the day, to break the news that she was going out for the evening. A nice old man from Grapevine Books, an adorable bookshop she managed to sneak into without Amanda on her back, had invited her to go on a group sail that evening. He’d caught her looking at books on Martha’s Vineyard, stood right over her shoulder while she was looking at a picture of a sailboat, and asked her if she’d ever been. She soon warmed up to him. His name was Tony, and he was the owner of the little independent bookstore. Her plan all along was to see if she could find out anything about Andy Beck, and she hit pay dirt. One casual mention of his name and she learned Andy had been working on a photo book of Martha’s Vineyard, but the project fell through. It was apparent Tony had been counting on showcasing the book in his store; when he spoke about the project he sounded like a jilted lover complaining about their ex. Kate was about to push for more information when Tony said he had to go—there was a ladies’ book club coming in. That’s when she agreed to the group sail; hopefully they could pick the conversation back up.
Besides, she desperately needed a break from Amanda. Breaking it to her, however, was proving difficult. “I can’t wait to get into our pj’s, drink wine, and talk,” Amanda said. Kate smiled. She couldn’t think of anything worse. Besides turning the island into her own personal edition of America’s Most Wanted, and searching for naked men, all they’d been doing was sitting in their pj’s and swilling alcohol. Kate was going sailing no matter what. Did Amanda really think she was going to spend her impromptu vacation getting drunk and man-bashing? It was a small enough island, and if they weren’t careful they were going to become known as the Man-haters of Martha’s Vineyard. Who was Martha anyway, and how did she get a vineyard? Kate would have to google it next time she was on the Internet. She’d also have to google “scorned almost-brides” and see if there were any tips.
Because so far, Amanda showed no signs of turning into the insecure ball of mush Kate was sure she could mold into sanity and roll back to Pete so she could get on with the business of getting on with her life. A life that didn’t include Andy Beck. So why was she thinking about him nonstop? It was being in his house, Kate decided, surrounded by his things. And she was dying to see his photographs again. Maybe Tony from the bookstore had copies. She had to go sailing. She had to find out more about Andy.
“I think I’ll just stay dressed,” Kate said as they walked up to the porch.
“Nonsense,” Amanda said. “We’ll change into pajamas.”
“I can’t very well go sailing in pajamas,” Kate blurted out. Amanda stopped, blocking Kate from the door.
“Sailing?”
“Yes. I’m sort of going tonight.”
“Sailing.”
“Sailing.” There, this isn’t so bad. Except for the whole time I say sailing, she says sailing, I say sailing bit.
“With who?”
Kate wondered if Amanda realized she was bellowing. It was probably not the best time to tell her.
“Tony from the bookstore,” Kate said.
“Tony from the bookstore?” Amanda parroted. Kate noticed she said “bookstore” like a Sunday-school teacher would say “porn.” “You’d rather go sailing with Tony from the bookstore than drink wine in your pajamas with me?” If Kate wasn’t careful, she was going to walk right into one of Amanda’s verbal traps.
“Of course not,” Kate said.
“Good.” Amanda marched up to the front door. Kate meandered over to the swing. She picked up the fallen chain from the disabled right side, and before she could chicken out, she reattached the hook. She could feel Amanda’s glare on her, but she couldn’t turn back now. Kate sat on the swing like a prisoner cutting the first slice of a barbed-wire barrier.
“I’m kinda surprised you don’t want me to go sailing,” Kate dared to say. “You’re the one who told me I needed to move on with my life.”
“That was before I learned my fiancé was a total perv,” Amanda said. “I’ve changed my mind. We’re done with men.”
“We?”
“You’re never going to find another Jeff, Kate. You know that, don’t you?”
Kate used her feet to push off, swinging the little porch swing harder than she should.
“I know that, Amanda,” Kate said. “But I’m not going to just s
hrivel up and die!”
“But I’m on my honeymoon, Kate. You can’t go on a date and leave me alone on my honeymoon!”
“It’s not a date,” Kate said. “It’s a group sail.”
“Katie!” It was Amanda’s alarmed tone of voice that finally got to Kate. She was truly upset, like a psychotic patient on the verge of a meltdown, and only Kate had the medicine.
“Okay, okay,” Kate said. “You know me and things that float. I’d probably get seasick anyway.” It was all a lie. Kate had never once had a problem with things that float, but Amanda seemed to buy it hook, line, and sinker.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Amanda said, joining her on the swing. “I promise, we’ll go sailing another night.”
We?
“Great,” Kate said, wracking her brain for a way out of this. Unfortunately, if she wanted to escape the cottage tonight, she was going to have to go all soap opera on Amanda’s ass and drug her nightcap.
Chapter Five
“Someone is in the backyard,” Amanda said, dragging Kate to a window in the kitchen. “Look.”
Sure enough, there was a man in the yard, setting up a large, green tent. Kate’s first thought was that the army had given up on the inner city and was recruiting in Martha’s Vineyard. The man turned around, and she recognized Pete. Kate felt a strange stab of disappointment as she realized she’d been hoping it was Andy. This couldn’t be happening to her, could it? Could she have a crush on some guy she didn’t even know? One who hated her guts, no less?
“What is he doing?” Amanda demanded as if Kate had sold him the tent.
“You took his mug shot to the inn,” Kate said, wondering if there was any room in the tent for her. “What do you think he’s doing here?” At that, Pete discovered Amanda and Kate in the window and waved. Amanda hit the floor. “He’s not armed,” Kate said, nudging Amanda with her toe.
“Get down,” Amanda said in a low whisper.
“He can’t hear you through a closed window,” Kate said, staring at Pete while Amanda fussed with her hair.
“I look like shit,” she said. “He had to see me when I look like shit.” Just then, a second head emerged from the tent. It was Andy. A little bird took flight in Kate’s chest. She wasn’t even aware of drawing in her breath until she felt a sharp pinch on her shin. Then Amanda’s head popped up next to hers.
“What? What did you see?” Andy had disappeared back into the tent. Pete was still securing one of the lines.
“Andy Beck is with him,” Kate said, now whispering herself. “He just went into the tent.”
“Let’s go.” Amanda pulled Kate so hard she almost yanked her arm out of the socket. Soon they were flying up the stairs. Amanda immediately threw open her suitcase and scoured it for the dress she’d been wearing all week, the one designed to catch Pete’s attention.
“Nice pajamas,” Kate couldn’t help but say.
“I have a master’s degree in business,” Amanda said, pulling off her sweatshirt, “and sometimes I still feel like I’m in the seventh grade, waiting to be asked to the dance.”
“I know,” Kate said. “I should be thinking about my career. Instead I’m like a little girl with a crush. It must be the island. Takes me back to summer vacations when I was a kid.”
Amanda pulled off her sweats and pulled the sundress over her head. It was a tight fit; in other words, perfect.
“Hold on,” Amanda said. “Crush? What crush?”
Kate was still staring at her suitcase. She was fine, she realized, in her jeans and top. As usual, she had a lightweight blouse over her tank top that came to just below her elbows. It would look too out of place with a sundress.
“Kate?” Amanda said. “I said, what crush?”
Kate went to the bedroom window and peered into the backyard. Andy and Pete were throwing a football. Their shirts were off. Kate was thrilled to see Andy had nice arms, but he wasn’t completely buff. He was slightly pale, which suggested he wasn’t one to lounge on the beach. He wasn’t hairy (a big plus for Kate), and he had a tiny little paunch. Not a gut by any means, but he wasn’t a gym rat. And although Kate was slim, she by no means considered herself on par with models, and she was very aware of the fact that she was in her thirties now, no longer even young by most standards. And with her scar…
In other words, she was imperfect, and as sexy as Andy Beck was with his shirt off, she was thrilled to see he wasn’t picture-perfect, either. Unfortunately, it made him even sexier in her eyes. She wanted to put her hand on his tiny paunch—and although she probably wouldn’t have had such thoughts in the seventh grade, she was definitely feeling more schoolgirl than grown-up. Amanda followed Kate’s gaze out the window.
“Since when do you know Andrew?” she asked. “You met at the wedding?”
“No,” Kate said. “We met here.”
“Here? What do you mean here?”
“You sound pissed.”
“You didn’t tell me you and Andy met here.”
“He came in on me when I was…getting the house ready for you.”
“And?”
“And I thought he was cute, and he thought I was a total lunatic for hiding the roses, and tossing the chocolates, and unwrapping the—”
“Woah, woah. What roses? What chocolates?”
“Oh, they were gorgeous, about a dozen of them—”
“From Pete?”
“I guess, I don’t know. And the sweetest box of local chocolates—the Sweet Shop, I think…”
“The Sweet Shop?” Amanda cried. “I love the Sweet Shop. Where are they? What did you do?”
“You sent me here to destroy them, remember?”
“No. I definitely do not remember that.”
“You said kill romance. You said to get rid of anything that would remind you of Pete and the wedding.”
“So you threw away completely good roses and chocolates?”
“I only had fifteen minutes. Look, can we get back to me and Andy?”
“Oh, so it’s you and Andy now, is it?”
“I just think he’s incredibly sexy. That’s all.”
“Stay away from him, Katie,” Amanda said, pulling her back from the window and closing the blind. “He’s trouble, believe me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look. Haven’t I already told you he’s an egotistical ass?” Amanda said.
“Yes,” Kate said. “But that’s all you’ve ever said.”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“No. I want details.” Amanda slumped on the edge of the bed.
“I met Andy the same summer I met Pete. I was waitressing for the summer. In fact, I had a little crush on Andy at first.”
A ball dropped in Kate’s stomach. “Did you sleep with him?” Kate asked. If she had, it was game over. There was a limit to what she was willing to share with her best friend.
“No. Thank God. Pete told me what he was like before that happened.”
“What do you mean, what he was like?”
“Andy’s a con artist. He’s a player.”
“Come on.” Kate turned back to the window and peeked through the blinds. Andy was laughing at something Pete said. And then, even though he couldn’t possibly see her, Andy looked up. It was like one of those moments where Kate was convinced the news anchor on television was making eye contact and talking directly to her.
“It’s true. He lies to women all the time,” Amanda said. “I think he only goes for rich ones, though. Where do you think he got the money for this house? It’s not from snapping pictures, believe me.” Kate wanted to tell Amanda how good of a photographer she thought Andy was, but she felt as if she’d be betraying Andy by doing so. Plus, she realized, she wanted to keep his photographs all to herself. Could it be true? Was he a con artist?
Kate’s thoughts were interrupted by music blaring. It was “My Girl.” Amanda tried to snap open the blind, but it stuck halfway up. It took three tries of raising and lowering it befo
re she got it to stay up again. Next to the tent, a large boom box was hooked up to enormous speakers.
“It’s his song for me,” Amanda said.
“Aw,” Kate said. “That’s so sweet.”
“Yes, well,” Amanda said. “I guess he couldn’t find one called ‘I Love You but I’m Going to Want to See Other Women Naked for the Rest of My Life.” Then she headed into the bathroom to do her makeup. She had completely forgotten about Andy Beck, and, Kate realized, whatever bad things she was about to say about Andy Beck, she didn’t want to hear them. A few minutes later, Amanda emerged from the bathroom armed with cleavage, shiny hair, and wet lips. They headed for the stairs. Just before going down, Amanda grabbed Kate by the arm. “No matter what happens,” she said, “do not leave me alone with Pete. Capice?”
“Got it.”
“I mean it. No matter what I say, or what I do, do not let me.”
“Okay.”
“And do not go off with Andy. I already told you—he’s trouble.”
Yes, Kate thought. But why did she have the feeling that it wasn’t that Andy was trouble that was bothering Amanda, it was simply the fact that Kate liked Andy. Was Amanda jealous? Was that why she was being so critical of him? After all, he was the one who fixed up the cottage and gave it to them for their honeymoon. Of all the things to do with your summer, Kate thought, crashing someone else’s honeymoon had to be at the bottom of the barrel.
“Andy,” Amanda said the minute they hit the backyard. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Andy caught the football and held it for a moment. Kate couldn’t help but notice he was looking at her. He pulled his hand back and made like he was going to throw to Pete, and then, at the last minute, heaved the football to Kate. She caught it with ease. He grinned. All of his previous anger at her seemed to be gone. It had been a couple of days since they’d met; maybe he was starting to trust that she wouldn’t tell anyone about his photographs. Kate could feel Amanda’s glare.
Almost Home Page 25