Pearl finished her coffee. Well, she couldn’t change the past. And if there was one thing she’d learned from Dolly, it was that life required a tough outer shell. At the moment, she might not have all her affairs completely together. She might still live in her aunt’s house and have less than a thousand dollars in her savings account, but one thing she could do was make sure the vultures buying up The Esplanade didn’t get anywhere near the diner.
They’d catered wedding breakfasts for movie stars. They’d poured coffee for governors. And long before Pearl had arrived, the diner had opened its doors to the rich and famous, to entrepreneurs and philanthropists and faces from around the globe. Who was Jace McClintock, or his boss or his client, to think he could show up, flash a fistful of cash, and end all that in the name of some shiny casino that looked like every other casino in the world?
She got up and set her mug in the sink with a determined clink. It didn’t matter that Jace was back in town. It didn’t matter that the man made her swoon with a single look. As of that moment, he was the enemy. Venice was her home. It had always been her home. She had seawater in her blood and salt air in her lungs, and she didn’t care how many other people had left this town - Jace included.
Pearl DeVane would protect the diner, its legacy, and her aunt at all costs.
*****
Sixty miles away, at a quarter past eight, Jace pulled his Mercedes into a spot at the far end of Reagan Realty’s parking lot on the north side of Tampa. Flawlessly landscaped, the entire property stretched almost the length of two football fields. He took a moment to admire the sleek black and glass building, three stories high and impeccably designed by one of Florida’s top architects. Hard to believe Marshall Reagan had built it all from nothing in less than fifteen years.
Hard to believe, but not impossible, Jace thought as he locked the car and headed for the grand front entrance. Marshall had smarts, savvy, and a refusal to take no as an answer from anyone. Jace admired hard-working men like that, probably because his father hadn’t been one. Anyone who pissed away a good job and a good pension because of addiction issues didn’t deserve his God-given talents.
“Morning, Alice,” Jace said to the receptionist in the lobby.
“Jace.” She blinked beautiful green eyes lined in kohl. “You’re in early.”
“Big meeting with the boss.”
“Ah. Well, good luck.”
“Thanks.” I’ll need it, he added silently. He already knew Marshall wouldn’t be thrilled with the lack of progress in Venice. As he always did, he opted for the stairs over the elevator.
“Hi, Jace.” Kelly Lincoln, one of the highest-selling agents in the office, met him on the second-floor landing. She wore a black suit and bright yellow stilettos and diamonds at her wrists and ears. Her perfume greeted him, more than a little familiar since they’d slept together a few times the year before. “I hear Marshall has you working on the Venice property for Carl.”
“Yeah.” He shifted his briefcase from one hand to the other. “Any advice?”
“Regarding Carl? Or the sale in general?” She smiled, gorgeous as always. “Watch your back. And do your research.”
Jace smiled. She’d said the same things to him a year ago, when he first started working at the agency. “Will do.”
She patted him on the shoulder and continued down the stairs. “Good luck.”
At the top floor, he turned left. His office, along with the other junior agents, clustered at the opposite end of the hall from Marshall’s. Jace had shared the space with a guy from Orlando until last month, when Marshall let him go without warning. Not enough production, and according to some, not enough balls to stand up to the boss.
Jace opened the door to the windowless space. That wouldn’t be him. He’d worked his ass off for way too long, taken too many shitty jobs and pulled too many sleepless nights, not to live up to Marshall’s expectations.
He turned on his computer and began to type. Hell, who was he kidding? Jace wanted to live up to his own expectations. Being back in Venice had been good for one reason only, and that was seeing Pearl again. In the five years since graduation, he’d made the hour-long trip south from Tampa only once. Yesterday, driving the familiar streets and seeing the familiar buildings had only reminded him of the angry teenager he’d been, of the way he’d hated his life and been determined to escape as soon as he could.
He typed furiously. He didn’t have a verbal agreement to give Marshall yet, but he’d spent enough time at the diner to know Dolly would be forced to sell soon. One part of him hated knowing that; despite the way he felt about most things associated with his hometown, he’d always felt at peace in the diner. When Pearl told him her uncle had died, it put a spear in his chest.
Jace printed the pages, fifteen minutes ahead of his meeting. He couldn’t let himself dwell on that. Life happened, and a lot of times it broke people’s hearts. Business was business.
“…it can’t relate to business.”
“Then it’ll be strictly pleasure? I can deal with that.”
He ran a hand over his hair to smooth any flyaways. Trouble was, he couldn’t keep his mind on business altogether. It had taken him all of fifteen minutes to remember exactly why he’d fallen for Pearl DeVane back in high school. Smart, beautiful, and unwilling to tolerate anyone’s bullshit, she mesmerized him. Challenged him. And absolutely turned him on. Five years had only fanned the adolescent flames of desire. He took a deep breath as he imagined again her tongue meeting his, her hands urging him closer. Damn. She was way out of his league - but if she hadn’t realized that yet, maybe he still had a shot.
Jace locked his office door and strode down the hall. The only problem was figuring out how to convince Dolly to sell the diner without having Pearl hate him in the end.
Chapter Five
“The numbers aren’t great,” Dolly said. She ran the tip of a pencil down her ledger. Even with a complex computer system and an accountant, she preferred to keep her books the old-fashioned way. “A little better than last month.”
“And next month will be even better,” Pearl said. She finished mopping the floor behind the counter.
But Dolly shook her head as she stared at the page. “We had the Wellness Fair this month. That brought in a few customers who wouldn’t normally be here.”
Pearl wrung out the mop and propped it in the bucket of murky water. “We have three major craft fairs in town next month. And the snowbirds will start coming down in October. We always do better once they’re here.”
Dolly scratched something onto the bottom of the page. “I hope so.” She looked up, her face tight and drawn with worry. “I don’t want to say it, but -”
“Then don’t. We won’t sell this place.”
“We might have to.” Dolly slipped her ledger into the worn brown carryall she’d had for as long as Pearl could remember. “I got a call this morning. After the reporter left.”
Pearl’s hackles rose. “Who was it?”
“A man named Carl something.”
“Carl Evans?”
“You know who he is?” Dolly looked up with surprise.
“Everyone knows who he is.” Except, apparently, her aunt. “He’s the one putting up the casino.”
Dolly nodded. “He wanted to stop in and see the place.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him any customer was welcome to stop in between the hours of six in the morning and two in the afternoon.”
“Hhmph.” Pearl wheeled the mop bucket to the back door and dumped out the dirty water. It eddied and swirled along the sidewalk, seeking refuge in the drains a few feet away. She leaned on the mop and watched it. How many times had she done this over the years? A hundred? A thousand? The water always took the same path. By now it had worn a faint groove in the pavement.
“Let me know if he shows up, will you?” she asked when she returned inside. “I want to see what kind of man buys up people’s dreams.”
&n
bsp; Dolly smiled as they locked up. “You have a flair for the dramatic, don’t you?”
“Not really. I just know this place is important to me.” She stopped and turned back, taking in the plate-glass window, the striped awning, the neon sign above the door. I grew up here. Half of what she’d learned about life - more than half - she’d learned from the people who came in and out of the diner.
“It’s important to me, too,” Dolly said quietly. She slipped her arm through Pearl’s. “Coming home for dinner? Or do you have another hot date tonight you’re keeping mum about?”
Pearl flushed. “No hot date.”
“That’s too bad. You’re only twenty-one. You need to live a little.”
“I live just the right amount,” Pearl said. “Think I will take a walk, though. It’s beautiful out.” The late-afternoon light cut ribbons of yellow and orange through the sky and the palm trees along the pier. She hadn’t been down on the beach in a while.
Dolly nodded. “No hurry. I’ll see you later.”
Pearl started at the far end of Venice Beach. She walked along the rocky pier, watching the fishermen cast out their nets, then haul them back in as pelicans waited nearby with beady black eyes. Once in a while the birds were tossed a handout from the catch, and they’d gulp it down awkwardly.
The sun hung in the sky but the water was still, the beach nearly empty. She took off her shoes and held one in each hand as she stepped into the sand. Warm from the day’s high heat, it cushioned her feet. She stayed far above the water line, digging her toes in as she made slow progress.
She wasn’t in a rush. She had nowhere to be. A dog and his owner jogged along the beach. Two little girls ran past her, giggling. Their mother followed a few yards behind, dragging a chair and umbrella in one hand and an enormous tote bag in the other. She looked at Pearl with a weary smile.
Other than that, the beach stretched out with emptiness. A forgotten pail lay on its side next to a sand castle half-washed away with the incoming tide. Far down the beach, two figures walked toward her.
Pearl stopped and faced the sea. Her entire life, she’d gone there for solace. For inspiration. For solitude, sometimes, and to let the sound of the waves soothe her. She loved this beach. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere else than on the Gulf Coast of Florida. Sure, she dreamed of traveling. She wanted to see London and Paris and the ruins of Rome. Heck, she’d never even been to New York City.
But her heart tugged to the place around her, with all its memories and beauty and resilience. Tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t let Dolly sell the diner, even if everyone else had given up on their end of town.
She continued walking down the beach. The little girls and their mother had disappeared, probably through the tall grasses and back to the parking lot. The sun had dropped another inch in the sky, but the air still baked with late-August heat. On impulse, Pearl tugged her long-sleeved work t-shirt over her head. She wore a black bikini top underneath, so she tied the sleeves of her shirt around her waist and let her bare skin drink in the warm afternoon rays.
The two figures walking down the beach grew closer, turning from fuzzy outlines to men she couldn’t make out. Fishermen, probably, or maybe a couple of college guys having one last beer on the beach before they split up and went their separate ways for the fall semester. But as they approached, Pearl realized they weren’t either. Her heart leaped up, plummeted somewhere around her ankles, then righted itself again in the center of her chest.
Jace is still in town? I thought he went back to Tampa…
For an instant, Pearl thought about turning around. He hadn’t recognized her yet; she still had time. But in the seconds it took her to consider the option, he and his companion neared her, and his eyes widened with recognition.
“Pearl!” He waved. “Hi!”
She took one step back. Her toes actually dug into the sand as she prepared to flee. All she could think about was the night before, dinner and the wine and the kiss. Then her declaration to remain detached and distant. Business, remember? That’s why he’s here. But her determination to keep him at arm’s length faltered as he walked closer. He wore khaki shorts and a burgundy polo shirt and his hair was mussed over his face. Oh, damn. Every girl part in her sent off fireworks.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
If he was bothered by her lukewarm welcome, he didn’t show it. Instead he turned to the man beside him, older and taller, with silver temples and a craggy face that bespoke a whole lot of history.
“This is Carl Evans,” Jace said.
Pearl’s fingers went limp and the next thing she knew, her sandals were lying in the sand. The Carl Evans?
“Hello,” she said coolly. She bent to retrieve her sandals.
“Didn’t expect to see you down here,” Jace went on.
“Really? I live here. I would think you’re the one who’s out of place.” Her eyes went to Carl, who hadn’t yet spoken a word.
“Pearl’s aunt owns the diner,” Jace explained.
The man’s face changed. “Ah.” He held out a hand. “Very nice to meet you.” His palm was warm, the shake strong but not overbearing. “She is quite a businesswoman.”
“Yes, she is.” Pearl lifted her chin. “She has every intention of remaining one, too.”
Carl clasped his hands at his waist. He also wore shorts, with a long-sleeved, light-blue shirt rolled up to his elbows. The pair of them looked like they’d stepped out of a magazine shoot, Pearl thought. Cool and collected, they stood there smiling, as if they were out for nothing more than a stroll along the beach - when in fact they were trolling, making plans, plotting their strategy for striking.
A gust of wind blew up from the water, and her hair covered her eyes. One strap of her bathing suit fell from her shoulder, and although she tugged it quickly back into place, when she looked at Jace, his face had changed. A flash of desire replaced the easy calm. His gaze went from her collarbone to her navel in one heady sweep. Strong. Wanting. One corner of his mouth pulled up in a grin, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thoughts she was.
Your mouth on me. Now.
*****
Well, hell. Jace’s plans to put business first went straight out the window the minute he saw Pearl. That bikini. That body. He was eighteen again, his shorts rising without warning, and it took every fiber of his being to think of numbers and promotions and the reason he stood there on the beach in the first place.
Her hair blew across her face and got caught in her mouth, and he wanted to reach over and free it. Then he wanted to taste it. Then he wanted to feel it draped across his bare chest as she lay above him.
“…wanted to stop by,” Carl was saying, and Jace pulled himself back to the conversation.
“We’re closed for the day,” Pearl responded, and fire flashed in her eyes.
Carl looked at Jace. “Tomorrow, then,” he said. “I’ll be staying in town for a few days. I have a contractor coming down from Tampa. I’ll be working closely with him on the other projects on the block. Perhaps we could stop in and show you the plans.”
“I’m not interested in your plans.”
Jace both loved and feared the way she stood up to Carl. The lift in her chin, the confidence in her stance, turned him on. Yet she also stood in the way of a potentially enormous business deal, one that would put Jace on the fast track to real estate success a la Marshall Reagan, and that was something he’d dreamed of since leaving town in the first place.
“Give us a minute?” Jace asked, and Carl nodded. Jace took her by the elbow and led her down to the water.
“What are you doing?” She glanced over her shoulder.
“Talking to you.”
“You shouldn’t be. You should be entertaining Mr. Bottomless Pockets.” She pulled her elbow from his grasp. “Shouldn’t you?”
He’d intended to say something about the diner. He’d intended to ask her to back off, be nice, at least consider Carl’s request to meet w
ith Dolly. But as he stood there, with the sunlight streaming through Pearl’s copper-colored hair and the scent of her perfume coming to him on the breeze, all those words fell away.
“What I should be doing is kissing you,” he said in a rough whisper. His gaze bored into hers. “Long and slow while I take off that bathing suit and make love to you right here on the sand.” His voice turned gruff with desire. “I want to taste you, Pearl. I want to make you come right before I do.”
Her mouth turned into a perfect O. Those magnificent green eyes caught the light, and their color deepened as she stared at him.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since last night,” he went on. “Actually, I don’t think I’ve stopped thinking about you since I left Venice five years ago. I just didn’t realize it ‘til I saw you again.”
Chapter Six
Six hours later, Pearl clutched a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses snagged from her aunt’s kitchen in the other. At almost nine, she’d thought Venice Beach would be deserted, but it looked as though she wasn’t the only one with plans for a drink by the water.
“I’m insane,” she muttered as she locked her car door. She had no reason for agreeing to meet Jace there except he turned every bone in her body to jelly. She hadn’t felt that way about a man - well, ever. Royal had been a nice, reliable boyfriend, but he’d never made her tingle with a single comment whispered in her ear. She’d never lain awake wishing he’d appear in the dark.
Jace McClintock?
The guy had captivated her since the day she’d seen him in the halls of Venice High, a senior with swagger and a dark side no one ever seemed to crack.
She arranged the glasses carefully in a tote bag on her shoulder and headed for the walkway where they’d agreed to meet. As she neared the sand, she saw one couple hand in hand on a bench, watching the waves in the moonlight. Someone down near the water was doing yoga.
Passionate Kisses 2 Boxed Set: Love in Bloom Page 50