He tugged Lee closer. “I’m—we’re—all here to help keep Ocean’s End prospering, so our artists have a place to showcase their work. Without further ado…” Luke played a few lines of melody, as corks popped in the background. “Lee, do the honors. Unveil The Mindi.”
Despite no warning, Lee did her Vanna thing, elegantly and equally as poised as the legendary Vanna, as she stripped the painting of its silver veil.
The audible, collective intake of breath proved Gray right about the painting. About the whole evening. As he waited for the applause to settle, he tucked Lee’s hand in his own. She tried to pull away, but he held on as he leaned in to whisper, “This is working.”
He pulled her back toward the mic. “A recent discovery of several of Mindi’s own work, this painting was done in the seventies. The Starlight Grille is proud to own the first publicly displayed work by a rare talent. So folks, raise your glasses. Look, but don’t touch. In a few minutes, we’ll introduce a taste of hidden talent among Serenity Harbor’s artists, and start the bidding. The rest of the art is displayed across the street at the Ocean’s End, where we’ll retire for dessert and cordials.”
Luke stood to unveil the art surrounding his piano. As the crowd surged forward, Gray watched Lee’s face as Luke pulled off the last cover, praying Lee would forgive him for showcasing one of her paintings without her permission.
Her face blanched, until he reached for her hand tugging her close. “That’s my favorite.” Her smile was reward enough.
* * *
By the time they moved the crowd across the street for coffee, after-dinner drinks, and dessert nibbles, Lauralee’s feet ached. Her exhilaration overrode tired feet, as she moved among the guests, fielding compliments on her painting and that of the other artists. The auction had hauled in twenty-one thousand dollars for the seven paintings. The local artists were overwhelmed, but full of gratitude as they mingled.
Monte, a local artist whose family business was Montgomery Lobster, pulled her aside. “I had no idea people would like my work.”
“You’re a star.” Lauralee couldn’t help smiling at the woman who thought of herself as only a fisherman. Monte blushed to the roots of her braided sable hair twisted on top of her head—tonight sans baseball cap.
“Maybe I should—I don’t know—let people know I painted them”
“Don’t you dare. Your work went for the highest bid. People like mystery. If you want to reveal yourself—we’ll do it slowly, over the next year in our newsletter.”
“You mean little hints?”
Lauralee nodded. “To build suspense—get friends of our guests interested—inspire more sales.” She was on a roll with this idea. “Next year, at the second annual artist’s reception, if you still want to, we can do a huge reveal about you.”
Monte stepped back. “In public?”
“Only when and if you’re ready. No hurry. No pressure. Your call.”
Monte’s shoulders settled. “A yup—we’ll see how the year goes.” She reached over and squeezed Lauralee’s shoulder. “This has been quite a night, I’d say. Guess I should talk to people.”
“Wait.” Lauralee paused, unsure how to broach the subject. “I’m trying to track down…ah, an artist. Yes, an artist Mindi knew as a teen.” She was on a roll now as the fabrication slipped easily off her tongue. “She met him up at Parkers Point. You by any chance remember the name of the caretaker back about thirty, thirty-five years ago?”
“Can’t say as I do. My father may know.”
“Can you ask—?”
“What are you two doing with your heads together?” Gray, sporting a skies-the-limit grin, clasped Lauralee’s hand, warm and comforting. “You have customers who need to speak with you.”
“Business,” Lauralee said on a squeak. She hated keeping secrets from Gray. She plastered on a smile. “Give us two more minutes.”
As he rejoined the crowd, Monte leaned in. “I’m not so good at this mingling stuff. Hauling traps. Bickering about boat prices—yeah. Mingling—”
“I hear ya’. Never thought I’d be in retail or have to speak in front of a hundred people. Gray says you get used to it. Eventually.”
“Maybe none of my business, but seems you and Gray—”
“Yeah, I guess. A bit crazy—we’re from two different worlds.”
“Yoo-hoo.” PattiSue strode across the gallery.
“I’m out of here.” Monte practically sprinted past PattiSue to disappear into the crowd.
“I’ve been looking for you. Roy and I are on our way in from the airport. Sorry we missed the party across the street, but I had to stop by. To honor Mindi, of course.” She gazed around the gallery. “Your mama would have been so proud.”
“PattiSue, can we talk tomorrow. I have a question about my mama.”
“Darling Lauralee, I’m only in Serenity Harbor to pack up. I fly back out tomorrow at noon. We have obligations at home. If you need to talk, it will have to be now.”
Worst timing. Lauralee suppressed a groan, as she gestured down the hall to the workroom. As PattiSue dusted off one of the tall stools and sat, she started in. “I need to know…have you remembered names of kids who hung out with my mama? If any still live in town, I might find out more about what mama was like.” The lie about her motive rolled off her tongue…for the second time that night.
“Oh heavens, I never paid much attention to the townies. I didn’t attend those parties. I did find my old diary. There’s mention of a Sarah somebody and a Tom, Bill, Jim. Maybe a Nancy. Yes, I believe Missy talked about her friend Nancy.”
“Last names?”
PattiSue waved a hand. “Oh lordy. Lauralee, why would I remember names of people I had nothing in common with? I usually hung out with our family friends who summered near the Point. Not townies.”
“Do you remember the caretaker’s name? Or his son’s name?”
“His son was Harry…I think. Kind of an odd fellow. The only reason kids hung out with him was for a place to party.”
“The last name, PattiSue?” Lauralee tried to quell the bubbling irritation. Why had Mindi and her mom ever hung out with her? It seemed they had nothing in common except those South Carolina family ties.
“I have absolutely no idea. My parents took care of all that…nonsense.” She waved her hand again, as if shooing away the pesky fly of having to deal with servants.
Lauralee bit her lip. “Who would know the caretaker’s last name?”
“Well.” PattiSue practically harrumphed.
Lauralee leaned in. “I’m sorry, PattiSue. I’m overtired. This is not the best time to talk. But with you leaving early tomorrow…. You do understand, don’t you?” She plastered on a smile.
“Well, of course, my dear.” She patted Lauralee’s hand, before she stood. “I’m sure the Mann’s must know—they’ve owned the place for generations. Gray’s grandfather Parker and my father were the dearest of friends—God rest their souls. The reason we come here every summer.”
“Gray Mann?”
“Why yes, dear. He owns Parkers Point. Now, I do need to run.” She pecked Lauralee on the cheek and headed toward the gallery as she waved. “Keep in touch. You have my email.”
Gray?
He’d lied to her. All this time he knew about her search and he’d never said a word that his family might have answers to her questions. Gray knew she’d never had a real family until Mindi. Why she so desperately needed to find her father—her family.
The muted din from the other room seemed to roll down the hallway in a blast. She had to get out of here. Without another thought to the party going on in Mindi’s gallery, Lauralee bolted through the back door and up the fire stairs to her apartment.
Locking the door behind her, she sank to the floor and sobbed.
Chapter 13
Gray glanced around the room. Monte chatted with a cluster of people gathered around a painting, as if she was holding court. Rob Campion, the librarian, strode across
the gallery toward another group. It was great to see so many of the townspeople turn out for this event. And mixed among them were many he didn’t recognize—the leaf-peepers. But no Lauralee.
“Luke, you see Lee?”
“Haven’t seen her since she and PattiSue beelined it down the hall.”
“Strange. Thought she and Roy headed south.”
“No sirree. Saw her with my own eyes.”
Gray groaned, and swiveled his attention back to Luke. “What the hell could they be talking about?”
Luke shrugged. “You think she’s interested in one of the Mindi’s?”
“Doubt it. I smell trouble.” Gray strode down the hall to the workroom. PattiSue was bound to spill the beans. Shit. His chest constricted. He’d wanted to tell Lee himself. All about the timing. Had he told Lee too soon, she would never have let him help her build the apartment or pull together the crowd-funder.
His gaze scanned the studio. Red shawl tossed across the stool, but no Lee. Gray shivered as the cool air hit him. He grabbed the shawl and headed out the back door sitting ajar.
“Lee? Babe, it’s cold out here. I brought your—” The only shadows were the tall oaks, pines, and maples scattered over the lawn of the town park sloping toward the water’s edge.
Gray jogged to the front walkway and searched the backlit gallery. Nothing. His gut clenched. Marching through the door, head down to avoid conversation, he headed toward the stairs. People still managed to stop him, asking questions about donating to the cause. One wanted to know the farm where the pink and purple sheep in the painting lived. Really? The line in front of Luke grew longer, as he took credit card payments and shipping instructions.
He glanced at the stairs, and knew with Lee MIA he was forced to step in and help.
An hour easily passed, as Gray took orders for paintings to be shipped, filled in emails for the mailing list, and hooked patrons up with local artists.
As the crowds began to clear out, Gray signaled to Luke. “Finding Lee.”
The hairs stood straight on his forearms, as he bolted up the steps to pound on her door. “Lee. Open up. We have to talk.”
He waited for a beat of seconds. With his hand gripping the door handle, he knocked again, then twisted the knob.
“Lee.” He stepped into the lit up efficiency. The dress she’d worn was slung across the back of the chair, each shoe kicked off to land in different directions. The contents of her little black bag spilled out on the counter. No keys. No cell.
Damn. She’d run.
He raced down the stairs, tossed the gallery keys to Luke. “Lock up. I have to find Lee.”
“What the hell?”
“She found out I own Parkers Point.”
“Shit, man, you never told her? You’re an ass. You know that, boss?”
“Yeah.”
“Go get her. And this time you better be spilling your guts. You hear?”
The parking space in front of Gray’s car sat empty. No point walking up and down Ocean Avenue. He unlocked the Mustang and shoved the key in the ignition. Where the hell could she have gone as the clock ticked toward midnight?
Gray drove in ever-widening circles though the small town. He started down Route Three when the thought hit. Slamming into the Wayfarer’s Motel parking lot and pulling a U-turn, he arrowed back through town, up Ocean Avenue, to swing a right on Pine Street.
When he pulled in front of the Atlantic Coast Senior Health Living, the place was virtually shut down. The only bright lights shone from the lobby where the reception desk and administrative offices stood. Muted lights shone from hallways star-fishing off the lobby.
She had to be with Mindi. Lee had nowhere else to go. No one else to support her.
The gravity of his omission yanked on his heart. He’d screwed up royally. She’d trusted him with her story. And he hadn’t done the same for her.
Shame gnawed at his gut. The shame of what he’d done in New York. The grief from losing his family because of his stubbornness about letting any of them in. Except Gramps. The only person who loved him unconditionally. Had valued Gray’s opinions. Had taught him to be his own man.
How could he tell Lee? She suffered the pain of being motherless and cast out, but it had been no fault of her own. He’d made his own bed to lie in—afraid to stand up to his father or the firm’s partners when in his gut he knew they were wrong about so many things.
Afraid to be his own man. And in doing so, dishonoring the memory of his grandfather. Now he betrayed the woman he’d fallen in love with.
No more. He’d come clean. Even if Lee rejected him, he’d know he’d done his best to make amends.
With no one at the front desk, he signed in and moved down the far hallway. Mindi’s room was second on the left, before the hall bent off to the right—the nurse’s station beyond.
He stood outside the door. Lee’s murmur gentle but distinctive floated toward him. He imagined Lee’s voice soothed Mindi, even as she slept.
Gray stepped through the doorway.
* * *
Lauralee straightened as the muted hallway light blurred into a shadow crossing the bed. The nurse. So intent on being at Mindi’s side, she’d forgotten to sign in.
Without letting go of Mindi’s warm, fragile hand, she turned. “I can explain—” Breath swooshed out of her lungs at the sight of Gray pulling a chair close to the bed.
“Not you. I—I—Why, Gray?” Her harsh whisper caused Mindi to roll over.
“I tried to tell you so many times.”
She swatted her hand in the air. “You had ample opportunity. You lied to me.”
Gray touched her arm with his wide palm. The sizzle shot through her, despite the fact she never wanted to speak to him again. See him again. Think about how close she’d come to declaring her love.
“We need to talk. Not here.” He gestured toward Mindi who stirred in her sleep.
She wanted to scream at Gray to leave her—them—alone. Instead she gently squeezed Mindi’s hand—their long-time signal for I love you. Then she pressed her lips against Mindi’s soft cheek, careful not to wake her, before she rose to follow Gray.
They reached the dark parking lot. She shivered. The warmth of Gray’s jacket weighted against her shoulders. She drew it around her like a cocoon of protection, then wished she hadn’t. His citrus and pepper scent accosted her, reminding her she could no longer trust what had drawn her to him these last six weeks. “I can’t do this.” Tossing off the jacket, it drifted to the pavement as she trudged toward her car. Within a few steps, he caught her elbow.
“I’m not letting you go thinking I lied to you.”
She swung around. “But you did. You know you did. You have the answers about my father. And yet—”
“It’s more complicated than lying Lee. I don’t have the answers you need.”
“But you know who does. Same thing.” She yanked her elbow from his grip and escaped to the sanctuary of her car.
This thing with Gray was over. Totally and irreparably over.
Chapter 14
Gray scrubbed his hand through his thinning by the minute hair. “Childhood should have come with a warning label at birth.”
Luke pointed to the cell clutched in his other hand. “Careful. You’re about to crush the damn thing.”
Gray chucked it on the couch. Luke snatched up the phone, shoved it back in Gray’s hand, and gave him the look. The one he’d sported since childhood when he knew Gray was screwing up. “Call your gawd-damned father.”
Gray willed his hand to relax and his shoulders to drop. “Not easy.”
“You gonna’ let your old man reach out from the City and grip you by the neck? ‘Bout time you set him straight.”
Gray swallowed. “You were lucky. You had parents who cared. Who stood behind you. Didn’t jump to—”
“You’re a self-made man.”
“You should talk. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here.” Gray gestured, around the ro
om and out toward the town whose lights shone across Serenity Harbor. “I had help from my best friend.”
“Not me who forgets, Gray.”
Gray’s brow lifted. “What, no boss?”
Again the look. “You know when I’m serious. Don’t go fooling with me, boss, and don’t short-change your contribution to this place” Luke gestured around the restaurant. “I’m out of here. When I get back I want to know you done right by Lee—you hear?”
He was a self-made man, after he’d finished screwing up the dream his family had for him. His dad had never heard Gray’s side. Now he’d make him—if the old man didn’t hang up on him first.
He punched in a number he hadn’t used in three years. His stomach roiled with each ring, until the gruff “Grayson Mann here.” His tongue tangled, as he willed himself not to disconnect.
Luke was right—be a man. Prove to the woman you love you’re worth something. “It’s Gray.”
Silence. The deathly quiet, punctuated only by breathing, lasted a good fifteen seconds. “What the hell you want, boy?”
As a kid, he’d hated being called boy. He hated it now. The demeaning word insinuating he’d never grown up, would never grow up, and wasn’t worth the extra breath it took to call him by his given name. The word telling him he owed his father nothing. Not an explanation. Not love.
But he owed Lee.
“I want the name of the Parkers Point caretaker who worked here when you were growing up.”
“Why would I know his name?”
He refused to play his father’s games. “Give it to me. Then I’ll leave you the hell alone.”
“You really want to go through the rest of your life without family, son?" His father sounded almost...what?...wistful?
“Right now, I need one thing—the name.” He heard the husky outlet of breath. His dad was near retirement now. All he had left was Gray’s mom. He'd alienated the rest of Gray's siblings too. For a split second, Gray almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“Your mom—she misses you.”
Damn. “I miss her too.”
“Well, that’s something then. You could call her once in a while.”
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