“I’m picking up some anxious vibes from …” He turned with the painting in his arms to the woman behind the desk and read from her name tag. “Marjorie. So I’d better hang this back here before she gets upset.”
He flashed his smile again—he had the sexiest mouth—and Marjorie merely stepped aside to permit him to return the painting to its place.
“Did you see whatever it was you were looking for?” He came back around the desk and stood in front of Carly, his hands on his hips, his gaze on her face.
“I did, thank you so much.” Carly’s heart thumped inside her chest under his scrutiny. She wished he’d stop looking at her.
“How ’bout a refill on that wine?” He gestured toward the empty glass in her hands.
“Oh. I’m good. But thanks …”
She started to walk away, and he fell in step with her.
“Maybe you should take a look at the front of the inn,” he suggested. “See those columns and the balcony for yourself.”
Having just seen Carolina’s interpretation of the inn, she found the idea appealing.
“I think I will, thanks. And thanks for the painting.” Carly shook her head. “I’d never have had the nerve to grab that off the wall the way you did. I’m surprised she let you get that close.”
“Must be my charm,” he said drily.
“Do you know which way is the front?” Carly stopped in the middle of the room.
“It’s this way.” He gestured toward the room where the party was being held. “Through the double doors …”
He held the doors for her, and lightly touched her arm when they encountered a small crowd walking in their direction. Her skin tingled under his fingertips and she thought he must have felt it, too, because he instantly pulled his hand away.
“Hey, people are looking for you.” Someone called to him as they neared the party.
“The door right ahead there goes out to the front of the building,” Carly heard him say just before he suddenly turned and vanished into the party crowd. “Enjoy the rest of the night.”
Just that quickly, he was gone.
Trying to pretend that she hadn’t been taken aback by his abrupt disappearance, Carly continued to the front door on her own. She stepped outside and went directly to the grassy circle formed by the curved driveway. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the old inn that had been depicted in the painting she’d seen in the lobby, and wondered if Carolina had ever painted it as it appeared on a night like this. Tonight clouds drifted like soft mist across the face of the moon and the breeze whistled through the cattails in the marshy area on the other side of the driveway. Music floated from inside the inn and she could hear laughter from a gazebo off to the left of the building. There were lights in all the front windows and the inn looked alive. She could—probably should—go back inside and rejoin the party, but she wasn’t in a party mood. Besides, she still felt awkward, never having met the guest of honor. She walked up to the front porch and took a seat on one of the wicker rocking chairs. She’d wait until she heard the party start to break up before going back in to find Ellie and Cam.
Carly sat and rocked and watched the moon emerge from the clouds only to be hidden again minutes later. Eventually her fingers went to the spot on her elbow where the man with eyes the color of a stormy sky had touched her, and she wondered if she’d see him again.
Chapter 6
“HERE are the numbers I’ve come up with.” Cameron passed a spreadsheet across the table at an angle so that Ellie and Carly could see it at the same time. “What do you think?”
Both women leaned forward to look it over.
“I think it’s a little low.” Ellie studied the bottom line.
“I don’t see costs for too much other than the heating and air-conditioning.”
“I thought I’d eat a little of the cost here and there. Like the drywall.” He shrugged. “I can’t cut the number for my HVAC guy unless he agrees to do that on his own. Which he might be willing to do if we ask him nicely. He’s relatively new in town and a bit shaved off the top here would go a long way to endear him to the community.”
“In that case, I think the town council will love it,” Ellie replied. “Of course it’s hard to say, not knowing what their budget might be.”
“There’s no number for security,” Carly noted. “Security is going to be big, Cam.”
“I didn’t have any specs for that, and besides, that’s not a cost that I can estimate,” he told her. “You’re going to need a security expert to help you out there, since you said it would have to be a really sophisticated system.”
“I think the council needs to decide first if they want to use this building as a gallery,” Ellie said. “If yes, then they’ll have to decide if they want to go with the additional costs to secure Carolina’s work.”
“I think you’re right,” Carly agreed. “If the town doesn’t have the funds for the right kind of security—”
“We’ll deal with that if and when we have to. Right now I’m going to drop this off to Ed and see what he thinks.” Cam put the spreadsheet into a folder and stood.
“You might mention to him that a lot of people were talking about the proposed gallery last night and were really excited about it. Since he’ll be running for reelection in a few months, he might be interested,” Ellie said.
“I don’t know that the opinions of a few people at a party would sway him one way or another,” Cam replied, “but it can’t hurt to let him know that people are talking favorably about it. Though he probably heard some of that talk himself last night.” Cam leaned down to kiss the top of Ellie’s head. “What do the two of you have planned for the afternoon?”
“Just some sightseeing.” Ellie grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer to kiss him, then let him go. “We’ll meet up with you back here for dinner.”
“See you then.” Cam disappeared into the hall, and seconds later, Ellie and Carly heard the front door open, then close.
“So what did you think of Grace’s wandering boy?” Ellie got up from the table and began to fill the dishwasher.
“Who?” Carly frowned. “Oh. Right. The guy the party was for. I never did meet him.”
“Actually, you did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. I saw you talking to him when I went to the ladies’ room.” Ellie turned and added, “In the lobby.”
“I met some guy in the lobby but …” Carly paused. “That was him? Grace’s son?”
Ellie grinned. “Some hunk, huh?”
“I didn’t notice.”
“Liar.” Ellie laughed.
“Okay, yeah, I noticed. He didn’t introduce himself. He just walked over and …” Carly blew out a long breath. “Yeah. He was pretty hot.”
“So what were you guys talking about?” Ellie leaned back against the counter.
“Mostly just the painting. I’d wanted to see it up close but the desk clerk wouldn’t allow me to go behind the counter. Then he came along and just walked back there and took it off the wall …” Carly sighed. “I should have figured out right then that he wasn’t just another guest at the inn. At the time, I guess I thought he’d charmed her into letting him hold it.”
“That’s it? You just talked about the painting?”
“Pretty much.” Carly got up and refilled her water glass. “Why no interrogation last night? Why wait till now?”
“I didn’t think you’d come clean with Cam in the room, since he and Ford are old friends.”
“There’s nothing to come clean about.” Carly shrugged. “We had one brief conversation, then the next thing I knew, someone was calling him from the room where the party was being held and he disappeared.”
“So, what? No impression?” Ellie persisted.
“I didn’t talk to him long enough to form an impression. Other than his previously established hotness. Why the interest?”
“As we were leaving, Grace menti
oned that she was disappointed that she hadn’t had an opportunity to introduce you to Ford, that’s all. Apparently she hadn’t seen the two of you in the lobby.”
“I don’t know why that would have disappointed her.” Carly took a long drink of water. “So, did you actually meet him?”
Ellie nodded. “Sure.”
“So how did he impress you?”
“As not wanting to be there.” Ellie appeared to choose her words carefully. “As someone not comfortable with the spotlight on him.”
“Maybe he’s not a party guy,” Carly suggested.
“The party was clearly Grace’s idea, and it seemed as if everyone there was happy to see Ford, but it didn’t seem that he really engaged with anyone. He didn’t show much emotion.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you’d think that if you’d been away from your friends for a long time, when you finally saw them again, you’d look happy to see them.”
“Well, yeah, if they were really your friends, you would be. Are you saying he seemed unhappy?”
“ ‘Unhappy’ isn’t the right word. I think maybe ‘distant’ is a better term. Or ‘detached.’ ” Ellie appeared to weigh the word. “Yes, detached is the best way to describe him.”
“Funny. I didn’t have that impression of him at all. At least, not at first.” Carly rinsed her glass and sat it on the counter. “In the lobby, he was friendly and talkative. We were going to go out front to look at the porch columns, but—”
“Wait. What?”
“He was talking about the painting, how it was the front of the inn. I mentioned that I hadn’t seen the front, so he said I should probably take a look, that I could go out through the double doors, and we started walking in that direction. That’s when someone came out from the party room and told him that people were looking for him.” Carly paused again. “I suppose it should have occurred to me right then who he was, if people were looking for him.”
“Not necessarily. But go on.”
“There’s not much more to tell. Just that when his friend said that, his demeanor changed from friendly to … I don’t know, disinterested, maybe.” She mulled over Ellie’s words. “Maybe detached, yeah. And then he just went into the room where the party was and I went outside by myself. A little while later the party was over and we came back here. End of story.”
“Too bad.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I could see the two of you—”
“Stop. No. No, you cannot see anything. I’m not here to get fixed up or to find a guy. I’m here because of your great-great-grandmother’s work and that’s all.”
“Not even to visit with your bestie?” Ellie had adopted a faux-injured expression.
“Okay, yes. Of course I wanted to visit with my bestie.” Carly laughed. “I always love to visit with you. I love your company and your house and your town. But I’m not looking for any other kind of love. Just not interested.”
“Pity.” Ellie shook her head. “Well, if not love, then how ’bout ice cream?”
“I’m always interested in ice cream.”
“Last night Stephie said she’s made some new coconut cashew mango something or other and it sounded heavenly.”
“Of course.” Carly could only imagine what Steph’s latest concoction might taste like. Whatever it was, she knew it would be delicious. “What’s a visit to St. Dennis without a stop at Scoop? Just give me a minute to grab my bag …”
“Did you enjoy the party, son?”
Grace had come into the inn’s dining room shortly after Ford arrived. This morning there’d been no tray of coffee and goodies left in his room, so he assumed that meant he was to eat where everyone else ate: in the dining room.
“It was a very nice party, Mom. Thanks for putting it together on such short notice.” He stood as she approached the table and held a chair for her before reseating himself.
“I detect a note of formality that belies your words.” Grace signaled a waiter for coffee. “I don’t think you enjoyed yourself as much as you pretended to. It’s all right. You can be honest.”
“I guess I’m not used to large gatherings,” he said carefully. “And I’m not much for small talk. It was nice to see old friends, though.”
“I realized after the fact that I should have asked you first. I’m just so accustomed to doing my thing and not asking for anyone else’s opinion.” Grace shook her head. “I just thought it would be so nice for you—”
“Mom, it’s fine. Perfectly fine. The party was really nice and I survived in spite of myself.” He tried to make a joke but she barely smiled. “Look, I know that you were only thinking of me and I appreciate it. Really, I do. It was very thoughtful. So no harm, no foul, as you always say.”
“All right, then. It’s done and behind us and you’ve become reacquainted with old friends and neighbors and that’s that.” She shook her napkin and placed it on her lap. “I’m having a crab omelet this morning. How does that sound?”
“Sounds great.”
The waiter served their coffee and Ford gave him their orders.
“So who all did you talk to last night?” Grace asked.
“Mostly people I knew from school. Cam O’Connor, that crowd. Met a lot of new people, too. Two of Curtis Enright’s grandkids …”
Grace nodded. “Jesse and Sophie. Jesse is married to Clay’s sister, Brooke.”
“Right. And Sophie owns a new restaurant out on River Road—I do remember that.”
“A lovely place. Blossoms, it’s called. Who else?”
He mentioned a few other people as he added a swipe of cream to his coffee and savored the flavor. He’d been drinking bad black coffee—bad instant coffee, at that—for so long that every cup now seemed like a tiny miracle.
“Did Cam introduce you to his fiancée? Ellie?” His mother pressed on.
“He did. She seems nice.” Ford figured that was the expected response.
“She’s lovely. Her father is Clifford Chapman, did you know?”
“Who’s Clifford Chapman?” The name meant nothing to him.
“The King of Fraud?”
Ford shook his head. “Sorry.”
“I guess the scandal broke while you were away. He was an investment broker who defrauded his clients of billions of dollars. He was arrested, pled guilty, and is serving a life sentence.” Grace leaned forward to add softly, “Along with Ellie’s former fiancé, can you imagine? Lucky for her that she had to move here and in the process met Cameron.”
“Why did she have to move here?”
“The poor thing had nowhere else to go. The government confiscated everything she owned because she worked for her father, and therefore everything she purchased with money she earned was considered ‘fruit of the poisoned tree,’ as they say.”
“If she worked for her father, why wasn’t she arrested, too?”
“She wasn’t involved in investing. She handled their PR.”
“That doesn’t explain why she had to come here.”
“She inherited a house in St. Dennis from her mother. Do you remember Lilly Cavanaugh?”
“Sure. She lived down at the end of Bay View. Mr. Cavanaugh carved duck decoys and they always had the best Halloween candy.” Ford’s eyebrows knitted together. “Wait, how could Lilly have been her mother? Lilly was ancient.”
“Not Lilly, dear. Lilly’s grandniece, Lynley Sebastian.” Grace tapped him on the arm. “And be careful when throwing around words like ‘ancient.’ ”
“I definitely remember Lynley.” Ford grinned. “Every guy in town was madly in love with Lynley.”
Grace sipped her coffee, then, as if an afterthought, added, “Oh, did you happen to meet Ellie’s friend Carly?”
Ford frowned. “Whose friend?”
“Ellie’s. Carly Summit.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I don’t think so. The name isn’t ringing a bell, but I met a lot of people last ni
ght.” He hesitated, then asked, “Should I have?”
“I was just wondering because she came with Cam and Ellie. I invited her because she was staying with them this weekend, and I didn’t want them to decide not to come because she was a houseguest.”
“Here’s breakfast.” Ford dismissed all thoughts of the party and whom he met or didn’t meet. None of that mattered. The party was behind them, he had survived it, and there was no point in rehashing it any further, as far as he was concerned. He was just happy that it was over and that with any luck he wouldn’t have to deal with a crowd like that again. Ever.
He’d been right all along, of course. His mother had invited half the town. Everyone from his graduating class who still lived in or around St. Dennis, and everyone he’d known while growing up. At least when there were that many people to greet, there wasn’t time to get into any real discussion with any one person, so every conversation was pretty much superficial. He’d spent most of the night saying things like “It’s good to see you again, too” and “Yes, my mom is still going strong. Yeah, she looks great for her age” and “Yes, peacekeeping is a tough business, that’s for sure.”
So all in all, he did okay. The evening passed by pretty quickly, and the only time he felt the need to duck out was when Ed what’s-his-name started asking him where in Africa he’d been and had he been close to any of those villages that they were always talking about on TV—“You know, the ones where they took all the little boys to make them into soldiers and then raped and killed everyone else.”
Ford had made some lame response and excused himself, making his way through the lobby for the side door and some fresh air. It was on his way back that he’d seen the petite woman standing near the desk, her body at a near forty-five degree angle to the floor. His curiosity had drawn him to her, but when she’d turned around and looked up at him, he’d felt as if he’d been sucker punched. She was pretty—very pretty—and he’d liked the way her blond hair fell around her face. But there was something else about her that had pulled him closer—something he couldn’t put his finger on. Whatever the attraction, she held much more appeal than going back to the party, so he’d been happy to fetch and hold the painting she’d been trying to study from ten feet away. He’d convinced her to take a look at the front of the building, and had been thinking how nice it might be to share the history of the inn with her. Maybe they’d grab another glass of wine on their way out and they could spend some time having a conversation that wasn’t about him and his life. But two things had happened on their way toward the front door. The first was when some of his old buddies spied him passing the room where the party was being held and had made a big deal of how he needed to go back inside.
On Sunset Beach: The Chesapeake Diaries Page 7