Will Work For Love

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Will Work For Love Page 14

by Amie Denman


  When the hotel truck pulled up, her heart jumped a little. Then she realized it was a gleaming white pickup loaded with chairs. Two young men in Marriott uniforms carefully unloaded the chairs and set them up where she directed.

  When she heard car doors slamming just as the sun started to set, she thought for a moment that her lonely evening might be getting a little more interesting. Then the doorbell rang and she opened the door to a man in a white chef’s uniform with several other people with him. They walked around the kitchen inspecting appliances and pot and pans in the cabinets. Their visit concluded with a serious discussion about every detail of the menu. The highlight of the visit was definitely tasting some of the dishes Taylor had requested and a few others. Despite their five-star caliber, Whitney’s taste buds took her back to Mavis’ chicken and the few meals she’d shared with Chris. Spiced with something they didn’t serve at the Marriott, those meals left an impression on all her senses.

  When they finally left, it was completely dark and Whitney turned back to the job of making loopy bows. She hauled her supplies inside and set up a workstation on the dining room table. Ella made it look much easier than it really was, but she was managing to get the job done.

  It was her last lonely evening on St. Thomas, and tomorrow her friends would arrive. She searched her heart, examining the last eleven days, and found that the parts she recalled were laced with sunshine, sparkling waves, blue eyes, and a grin she would remember forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It was a sunny morning on St. Thomas only a few days before Christmas, and the shops downtown were decorated cheerfully and ready for business. Whitney went to her usual breakfast place and gave herself the treat this morning of sitting outside at a table while she enjoyed her coffee and breakfast sandwich. Last night was lonely, but this morning, she wanted to enjoy the solitude of the sunshine. The quiet before the storm. It would be great to see all her friends in a few hours, but the real excitement of the holidays and the wedding would start.

  The hustle and bustle of the holidays was always a fun time at home. Or at least it had been while her parents were alive. She had celebrated the holidays with the East family for almost seven years now. Whitney realized with a start that she had not bought a single Christmas present for her friends who were arriving later this morning. That settled it. After breakfast, she would take advantage of the unscheduled morning downtown and do her Christmas shopping.

  The glass storefront reflected the morning sun, but she could still see the holiday displays. She paused in front of a jewelry store, admiring a set of earrings and a necklace that would be perfect with the dress Taylor had picked out for her to wear to the wedding. She hadn’t thought of jewelry in her hurry to pack and get down to the island ten days ago. Now, she wondered what she would wear with that strapless dress. At least she had a tan.

  Whitney went in the shop to ask the price of the earring and necklace set and asked to try it on. She put the necklace on and held the earrings up to her ears. Perfect. She loved the way it brought out the color of her skin. Pink set off by silver. The combination was unusual and exquisite. She gazed in the round mirror standing on the glass countertop and considered buying it. It was quite a bit more expensive than she thought it would be, though, and she still had a lot of shopping to do. Maybe later.

  As she left the store and paused in the window once more to admire the set, she thought she caught a reflection right behind her. It was a familiar reflection of broad shoulders and a blue shirt, but when she turned around, it was gone. There were a number of tourists out and about on the street, but she didn’t see Chris anywhere. She thought she must be imagining things.

  ****

  Chris strolled downtown and got breakfast. As he was turning to head home, he saw familiar long brown hair cascading over straight slim shoulders that he knew intimately. Whitney was admiring something in the window. He stepped into an alley across the street and watched her enter the jewelry store and leave empty handed. She paused to look in the window once more before turning around sharply. Chris quickly stepped into the shadows again and escaped detection. When she was far enough away, he crossed the street and went into the store.

  It only took him a moment to find out from the clerk what jewelry Whitney had been interested in and had, in fact, tried on. On the impulse of the moment, he bought it and arranged to have it delivered to East Pointe with a Christmas card he wrote out himself. He knew he shouldn’t send the gift and couldn’t explain why he was doing it, but he found he was not in control right now.

  “Mornin’ boss,” Rick said as soon as Chris stepped outside the jewelry store. “Doing a little shopping for your mother?”

  Chris grinned. “My mother wouldn’t let me pick out jewelry for her on a bet,” he said.

  “Maybe something nice for your favorite employee?” Rick asked. He raised an eyebrow at Chris and gave him a crooked smile. “I’m partial to pearls, myself.”

  “You know who it’s for, and it’s just business,” Chris said. “I finished her work, hopefully to her satisfaction, and I didn’t think it would hurt to throw in a little—”

  “Bribe?” Rick suggested. “You don’t think she’s going to follow through on any of her threats to turn you in to the insurance company, do you?”

  “Hope not.”

  “I guess we’ll see. You look like hell, Chris. Go home and take a long nap. Maybe Santa will be good to you this year.”

  “What are you doing this morning, Rick?”

  “Shopping for my daughter and the grandkids. It’s going to be chaos on Christmas morning at my place, but you’re welcome to come over if you don’t have any other plans.”

  “Might take you up on that if I’m in the mood for a little chaos,” Chris said. He and Rick headed in opposite directions, and Chris thought about Rick’s offer. What was he doing on Christmas morning? Even with tourists milling around and sunshine touching every surface in the busy street, Chris felt a cool wave of loneliness wash over him.

  ****

  Whitney tried to enjoy herself. She window-shopped all the way down the street and then got serious on the return trip and started going into the shops she’d scoped out. She had a colorful straw bag slung over her shoulder and it was nearly filled with gifts for Taylor and her parents, and a few indulgences for herself.

  Almost lunchtime, Whitney stopped in the outdoor café one last time. It would be her last meal alone, probably, because the East family should arrive at the airport within the hour.

  She selected a table with a hot pink umbrella close to the street. Had that been a glimpse of Chris she saw earlier? Not that she had chosen this table just in the vain hope of seeing him, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep her eyes open. Even though she was still angry at his deception, and she couldn’t forget how he’d nearly ruined Taylor’s wedding, she still missed him. For a few perfect days, she thought she found romance in paradise.

  Instead of one of the young pretty waitresses, Mavis herself came over to her table.

  “Did you deliver my message to Mr. Maxwell?” she asked without preamble.

  “I did,” Whitney said, glancing up at the now familiar oversized apron covering an ample bosom and leathery skin.

  “And did you take him that food?” Mavis asked.

  “Uh-huh,” Whitney said. Her appetite was strong when she first came in, but now her insides felt hollow. Maybe she should just leave and eat something at home. She could bake Christmas cookies and the house would smell homey when the family arrived. A girl could live on cookies if she had to.

  “Good,” Mavis said. “Got something else for you to take him.” She hurried away and Whitney sat there, feeling stunned and wondering what on earth she was going to do. Making another food delivery was next to impossible. Chris was not at her place and she didn’t know where he lived. Not that it would be too hard to find out.

  A waitress came and Whitney half-heartedly ordered the lunch special without even looking at it
. She was waiting for the large woman in the colorful apron to return. She didn’t have to wait long. Mavis wound her way through the tables on the outdoor patio and parked herself in a chair across from Whitney. She had a large brown envelope in her hands.

  “This is what I want you to give’em,” she said as she pushed the envelope toward Whitney.

  “I can’t deliver anything to Chris,” Whitney said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not…I mean we’re not…”

  “I’d walk it up the street to his house myself, but it’s gettin’ busy here with the holiday tourists and all.”

  “Up the street?” Whitney asked. Her mouth was dry and she felt like she was a swimmer being shoved around by a strong unseen current.

  “To his house, at Blue Isle Construction. I don’t know why a man so fine as that lives in a tiny house no one wanted anymore anyway, but I guess he likes being close to his work.”

  “I guess so,” Whitney lamely agreed.

  “All he does is work, and we’re all gettin’ sick of the fact that he won’t take nothing for it.”

  Whitney stared at her, not sure what to say.

  “Just tell’em he’s gonna take that money ‘cause he earned it.” Mavis heaved herself out of the chair and stood in front of Whitney. “Tell’em I’m sorry it’s all in cash, but this is a cash type of business,” she said, gesturing around her restaurant.

  Mavis started to walk away, but Whitney stopped her. “When you said ‘we’, who did you mean?”

  “I mean us locals. Blue Isle Construction’s been fixin’ and rebuildin’ all fall since that hurricane. He fixed our houses first and then our businesses, even though most of us don’t have insurance. I don’t know where he come up with the money for supplies, and he ain’t taken a dime that I know of from anybody.”

  Whitney stared at her, clarity beginning to dawn.

  “There isn’t a shack on this island he hasn’t had a hand in fixin’ up for somebody. He’s got a heart of gold, and I for one got the money to pay him back. Don’t know how he keeps goin’, that man.” Mavis stopped and smiled, deep wrinkles swallowing her cheeks and extending clear up past her eyes. “Gettin’ tired of paying him in chicken. Though, God knows that man loves to eat. Now, you take him that cash. He won’t take it from me.”

  And then she was gone in a swirl of color, and Whitney stared at the empty chair across from her. She was almost afraid to believe what she’d just heard, yet it all made sense. The pieces started clicking. The boat ride to deliver supplies to Sammy. The grateful glances she had seen people sending him on the street. The name of his personal boat. The Sherwood. Apparently, Chris had been playing a grown-up version of Robin Hood with the insurance checks of the wealthy. It was a risky game, but she’d only caught him because the East family had an impromptu wedding.

  The waitress delivered a plate of food that smelled delicious and should have been incredibly tempting, but Whitney’s senses were filled with Chris. It felt like being filled with bubbles and rising to the surface toward glimmering daylight. The Chris she started to fall in love with was not the unscrupulous criminal she thought she had caught. He didn’t do the work at East Pointe, there was no denying that, but he took the money and helped dozens of people who needed a home and a livelihood.

  Whitney desperately wanted, needed to see Chris right now. She wanted to feel his hands on her flesh and run her fingers over his broad shoulders that had apparently been shouldering the burdens of so many others.

  But why hadn’t he explained? Did he think she wouldn’t listen or wouldn’t care? That thought burst her little bubbles considerably. She was completely focused on getting her work done in time for the wedding…what would she have done differently if she knew more about his motives? Well, she knew she would certainly have been a whole lot nicer about it. And then made him do the work anyway. And in the same amount of time.

  She looked at the fat brown envelope. There was no way out of it. It looked like she’d be walking up the street where Mavis gestured until she found a tiny rescued house on the grounds of Blue Isle Construction. It couldn’t be that hard to find. She would knock on his door. What happened then, she didn’t know.

  ****

  Chris thought Rick gave good advice as usual. Unlike usual, though, he was actually going to take it. He walked home, enjoying the sun on his shoulders, and headed straight for his couch. A nap would clear his head. And maybe he’d do something productive with the rest of the day. Even though Blue Isle was officially closed for the holidays, he always had a half-dozen projects needing attention. And he’d neglected that list while preoccupied with Whitney.

  The fresh air through the window and the silence of his construction yard quickly lulled him into deep sleep. He didn’t hear the light knock at his door, but he thought he heard a familiar voice calling his name. It must be a dream, though, because it sounded like Whitney’s voice saying “Chris, wake up.”

  He opened his eyes and looked at the open window in the front of his house. There she was, looking in the window. Now he knew he was dreaming.

  “Are you going to invite me in?” she asked.

  Chris was awake now. He sat up and looked at her, unable to believe she found his house and baffled about why she was here. Unless, he realized with a sinking feeling, there was some problem with her construction project. She didn’t seem mad, though. He had seen her mad, this wasn’t it.

  He only needed three steps to get to his front door. He swung it wide open, but she didn’t step in. She held out a thick brown envelope to him.

  “Mavis asked me to deliver that,” she said.

  He looked at the envelope. “Doesn’t look like food,” he said. It sounded like a stupid thing to say, but his brain was foggy from his deep daytime nap. He hadn’t gotten much sleep in the last week.

  “It’s not food.” Whitney laughed and smiled at him. Incredible. Here she was, and she just smiled at him like before she’d found out he owned Blue Isle Construction.

  “It’s cash,” she said. She handed it to him and he took it without looking at it. He set it down on a small table inside the door. He knew what it was for, but the question was, how much did Mavis tell her?

  “I just want to say that I think, that I might have, you see, I realized something that I didn’t understand before.” She let go of his hand and turned to face him, arms crossed over her chest. A loud ringing in her purse interrupted her. She looked chagrined and dug through her purse, glancing at the caller ID and then looking apologetically at him.

  “Hey, Taylor,” she said into the phone. “Is everything okay?”

  Chris could hear a woman’s voice, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying. He was watching Whitney’s face and imagining pulling her into his house and making love to her before she got a chance to protest. Maybe while she was distracted by the phone would be a good time.

  “I’ll be right there,” he heard Whitney say, and then she closed the phone and dropped it into her bag.

  “Problem?” he asked.

  “Rental car issue,” she said. “I guess Taylor’s dad didn’t consider the number of people and luggage when he booked a car. I have to go to the airport and pick them up.”

  He reached out and touched her arm. “Maybe they could wait a little while.”

  It was tempting, so tempting. “I wish,” Whitney said slowly, “but they’ve had a long flight. Taylor’s pregnant, and she sounds tired and, well, I think she needs a friend.”

  “You’re an incredible friend. You’ve spent your entire vacation knocking yourself out.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you,” Whitney said.

  Chris rubbed his eyes with one hand. “Whitney, it should never have been this way. It’s all my fault, and I just want to say I’m—”

  Her phone rang again, and she read her friend’s name on the caller ID. “Taylor again,” she said.

  Chris nodded seriously and looked over Whitney’s shoulde
r. “Where’s your Jeep?”

  “On the street downtown. It’s a short walk.”

  “I know,” he said, “I’m just sorry you have to go.”

  “Me, too,” she said. Based on her expression, Chris allowed himself to hope she really meant it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The rest of that day and the next day were a blur. Taylor kept Whitney constantly busy with wedding details, but they also found time for shopping and manicures.

  “You’re quiet,” Taylor observed as they ate lunch poolside at the Marriott after their spa appointments. “Are you worried about your business at home?”

  “A little,” Whitney said. “Kelly’s hounding me to make a decision about expanding. I just don’t know about taking a huge leap into manufacturing. I don’t think we can grow much more as we are, but do I really want to build a building and hire a bunch of people? Where would I even build it?”

  “Is that the only thing bothering you?” Taylor asked. “You’ve always been business-savvy and I haven’t noticed you getting too overly nervous about it, even though Kelly can be really bossy.” Taylor looked closely at Whitney and grinned at her. “This looks to me more like…” she tapped her temple and squinted her eyes like a mad scientist. “Man trouble,” she pronounced.

  Whitney rolled her eyes dramatically. “Yeah, right. Like I have time for that.”

  “Now that you mention it, I was wondering what you’ve been doing down here by yourself for two weeks,” Taylor said.

  Whitney sipped her fruity pink drink. “Long story,” she said. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get back to Boston.”

  “I want every sordid detail,” Taylor said.

 

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