Bayside Heat (Bayside Summers Book 3)

by Melissa Foster

  Hours later, a local band was playing on the stage, the parking lot was packed, and there was standing room only inside and outside the music store. Drake, Rick, and Dean had kicked off the celebration by playing the first song on the stage. It had sent Drake’s mind back to their early days as a band, when they’d had dreams of going off and cutting record deals and living the high life. Those dreams had been short-lived. Losing their father had changed everything.

  The police had set up barricades around the area behind the stage and blocked the rear entrance from the back road to keep the flow of traffic moving in only one direction. Brandy had set up the food in a tent on the grass, which was also overflowing with people. She’d shown up with two catering vans, and a second shift had brought more food and supplies about twenty minutes ago. Drake had never seen so many people turn out for a music store opening. Serena must have anticipated the inordinate number of sales they’d experience, because she’d given Mira instructions on how to handle incoming stock, and a truckload of deliveries had shown up right before the opening. Drake thought it had been a mistake, but Mira assured him that it was on Serena’s list.

  Brandy sidled up to him with a plate of food. She was a vibrant, big-boned redhead with a mass of corkscrew curls that were currently trying to escape from their tether at the base of her neck. “Hey, handsome. Serena said I was supposed to make sure you ate and didn’t spend all day taking care of everyone else and stressing out.”

  “I can’t eat. Look at this turnout, Brandy. Have you ever seen anything like it?”

  “Not for a retail opening. You know, Serena should be an event planner. I might have to pick her brain.” She nudged the plate into his hands and said, “Eat the sandwich. You need to stockpile energy for the next time you see her.”

  He smiled, imagining Serena telling her to say that. “She knows how to get me to eat.”

  “Actually, she didn’t say that,” Brandy said with a mischievous grin. “But you’re male and, you know, that makes you pretty easy to figure out.”

  He sighed and bit into the sandwich. “Mm. This is fantastic.”

  “Roast beef with horseradish, tomato, watercress, arugula—all the things you love.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate all that you’re doing today. Do we have enough food?”

  She peered in the direction of the catering tent. “We do. It’s two now and you’re closing down at six thirty, right?”

  “That’s the plan, but I honestly can’t see us kicking people out. I don’t mind paying more to keep from running out of food.”

  “We won’t run out,” she said as Rick joined them. “Serena expected this big of a crowd. I’ve got to get back to the tent. Rick, make sure he finishes that sandwich, will you?”

  “Kick-ass turnout, bro,” Rick said as she walked away. “How are you holding up?”

  “I have no idea,” Drake said honestly. “I think I’m in a state of shock. I wish Serena were here to see it all. She must not have told me everything she did for advertising, because we’ve never had a turnout like this.”

  “She loves you, Drake. You know that, right? She said as much in the card she left me when she moved.”

  “She left you a card, too?”

  “She left one for me and one for Dean,” Rick said. “I figured she left you one, too. She thanked us for being good bosses and said she appreciated everything we did for her. But in mine, she also said not to let you get so wrapped up in life that you forget your first love—music.”

  Drake shook his head. “Like I could ever forget that?”

  “That’s the point, man. I was thinking about why she’d tell me that, and then it dawned on me. Remember when we first opened the resort, how busy we all were with the renovations and all the paperwork and bullshit that went into getting it off the ground?”

  “Man, that was a crazy time.” There had been months of digging through paperwork, hiring contractors, meeting with attorneys and insurance professionals to make sure they understood the ins and outs of the business and liabilities. Serena had been with them in the trenches. In fact, she’d been the one to suggest meeting with insurance reps to find out what they didn’t know.

  “Then you remember how she used to traipse up to your apartment and grab your guitar in the middle of all the crap we were dealing with.”

  The memory brought a wide grin and a wave of longing. “I remember. We’d be bitching about how exhausted we were or about whatever mess we were dealing with, and she’d hand me the damn guitar, sit on her ass, cross her arms like the stubborn, beautiful woman she is, and say she wasn’t going to move until I played.”

  “Exactly,” Rick said. “She knows you. She wanted me to watch out for the most important part of you. And even though she’s not here, she’s still doing it.” He pointed to the back road, where a line of police cars was escorting a black Suburban.

  “Holy shit. What’s going on?” Drake pushed his way through the mass of people toward the commotion, but the crowd moved with them, shouting and cheering. Drake grabbed Rick’s arm. “What’s happening, Rick? This is my opening. I’ve got to know what’s going on.”

  “Control freak,” Rick hollered back. “Just go with it. Live in the moment.”

  He led Drake around the back of the stage to where their buddy Caden Grant, Evan’s father, who was a police officer, was standing guard alongside several other members of Wellfleet’s finest. The Suburban parked, and a tattooed guy stepped from the vehicle. The crowd went wild, pushing forward and shoving Drake into Rick.

  “Holy fuck,” Drake said with awe. “Is that who I think it is?”

  “Boone Stryker,” Rick confirmed, holding his phone up as he videotaped Drake’s reaction. Boone was the lead guitarist in Strykeforce, Drake’s favorite band. “You can thank your girlfriend for this one. She pulled some major favors with just about everyone connected to him.”

  Drake’s chest constricted. He pulled out his phone, then realized Serena was at that damn company event. “She’s going to miss it!”

  “That’s why I’m videoing it!” Rick hollered over the noise of the crowd. “Wow. She really did knock the wind out of you with this one.”

  Drake looked into the video camera, his emotions bowling him over. “Baby! What have you done? You should be here!” His gaze coasted over the sea of people, and his heart swelled. “I love you, Supergirl, and I will thank you properly when I see you!”

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Rick said with a laugh.

  Drake couldn’t shake the awe inside him. “Baby, how did you do this?” he hollered into the video as the crowd pushed him toward the barricades. He’d read in a magazine that Boone and his wife, Trish, an actress, were both on hiatus and spending time with their son. That was just a few weeks ago. How had she managed this? “I wish you were here! Babe, there are no words! Thank you!”

  Rick and Drake barreled through the crowd, catching sight of Boone helping his wife out of the vehicle. She carried their little boy, J.R., in her arms. Drake had read that he was six or seven months old now and was named after Boone’s father, Jeremy Rykerts, which Drake remembered because he hoped to one day honor his own father in the same way.

  An entourage surrounded Boone and Trish as they made their way up to the stage with the rest of his bandmates. Stagehands were busy setting up equipment and mics. Whoops and cheers filled the air as Boone stood centerstage, his arm around Trish. Their baby wore a black-and-white onesie and a bandanna around his head.

  “Drake!” Caden waved them toward the barricades. He said something to the officer next to him, and then he made his way over to Drake and Rick and told them to come through.

  They climbed over the barricade while Caden and several other officers kept the rest of the crowd back.

  “What’s the plan?” Drake asked, feeling like a fanboy, gawking at his hero on the stage. Boone had come from nothing, literally, and had taken the music world by storm. Drake’s idol was standing before him, his b
rother was by his side, and they were surrounded by loads of people he knew—and hordes he didn’t—and all Drake could think about was the absence of the only woman he wanted by his side.

  Rick shrugged, but his smirk told Drake he knew exactly what Serena had been planning all along.

  “How did all these people know he was coming and I didn’t?” he asked Rick.

  “Boone tweeted earlier today.”

  Tweeted. Jesus. Serena had long ago hired a social media assistant to handle their social pages for the store and the resort. He’d forgotten they even had them.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much.” Boone’s deep voice cut through the din of the crowd, and more cheers rang out. “Thank you! My beautiful wife and I are so happy to be here to celebrate the opening of Drake Savage’s Bayside Music and Arts!” The crowd went crazy. “That’s right, so make sure you head inside before you leave and show your appreciation. Buy something from the man who brought this show to you! And just to make it even more enticing, I’ll be autographing purchases for thirty minutes after my set.”

  More applause and shouts rang out.

  “Before we get started,” Boone said as he gazed out over the crowd, “I’d like to bring Serena Mallery and my man Drake to the stage. Let’s hear it for Serena and Drake!”

  The crowd chanted, “Serena and Drake! Serena and Drake!”

  The air rushed from Drake’s lungs.

  “Go on, man.” Rick nudged him in the direction of the stage, videoing once again.

  Drake’s head spun as he crossed the stage.

  Boone was a formidable guy, and as he embraced Drake, he said, “Congrats, man. I’m happy for you.”

  “Thank you. Thank you for coming.”

  Boone put a hand on Trish’s back and said, “This is my wife, Trish, and our little man, J.R.”

  Trish opened her arms, giving Drake a warm hug. She was tall and slim, with long dark hair, and dressed in jeans and a pretty blouse, there was not a bit of pretentiousness about her. Their little boy reached for Drake and clung to his shirt. He had a fake tattoo of a heart with Mom written across it on his tiny arm.

  “I guess you get to hold J.R.,” Trish said as she handed him the little boy. “Serena said you were amazing with children.”

  A collective aww rose from the crowd.

  “Where is Serena?” Trish asked. “I was looking forward to meeting her. We’ve been talking about this event for months.”

  Months? Serena had set this up for him before they’d even come together as a couple? Drake’s heart broke even more for her to have missed it.

  “She got held up in Boston, but she wishes she could be here.” The baby reached up and touched Drake’s cheek with his soft little hand. Drake glanced in the direction where he’d left Rick and was glad to see him standing by the stage, still videoing.

  Boone handed Drake the mic and said, “Sell your business, man. Now’s your time.”

  As Drake looked out over the crowd, holding the baby in his arms, he spotted friends, neighbors, and too many strangers to count. He had no idea what he was supposed to say in a moment like this, but when he lifted the mic, his words came easily. “Thank you all for coming out for the grand opening and to hear Boone play. Unfortunately, you’ve missed out on meeting one hell of a special woman. My girlfriend, Serena, got tied up in Boston, but she’s the one who pulled this incredible event together and made it possible for you to see this legendary musician.”

  Cheers and shouts ensued.

  “I hope you enjoy the show,” Drake said, and handed the mic back to Boone. “Thank you for coming out today. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.” He stepped away.

  Boone grabbed Drake’s arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Trish took the baby from Drake and said, “Have fun!”

  She hurried off the stage as another guy handed Drake a Fender Stratocaster guitar and a pick and set up a mic. Drake shot a look at Rick, who was grinning like a fool, just like he was. He mouthed, Holy shit. This is really happening!

  “I think you know this one,” Boone said as he grabbed his guitar. He put the mic on the stand, and the pianist began playing “Don’t Stop Believin’.”

  Adrenaline pumped through Drake’s veins as his fingers hit the strings, and for the next few minutes he played like he’d never played before—and every single note, every single breath he took was for Serena.

  SERENA SCHMOOZED, SMILED, and said all the right things at KHB’s Client Appreciation Day, but the entire time she’d thought about nothing other than wanting to see Drake’s face when he opened the front doors of the store to customers for the very first time and the moment Boone showed up and Drake finally met his idol. He’d told her he wouldn’t text during her work event, and he hadn’t. She hoped that for once in his life he was enjoying the day and not worrying about her. She had dozens of messages from the girls with pictures of the opening. It looked just as fantastic as she’d hoped it would. They were lifesavers, helping out at the spur of the moment. Rick had sent a link to a video he had uploaded to YouTube of Drake hearing the news about Boone, meeting him, and playing onstage. She’d shed tears of happiness while watching, and she’d noticed that the video already had more than eleven thousand views. Trish had told her that one tweet from her and Boone would make the news of the event go viral. She must have tweeted about the video, too. Serena was sad not to have met Trish and Boone in person, but Trish had left her a message saying they were sorry they’d missed each other and they’d like to plan a trip in the fall and catch up, when there weren’t as many tourists around.

  “I know you’re upset about missing Drake’s surprise and his grand opening,” Gavin said as they headed into the parking garage after the KHB event. “But you did well in there. Your clients, and your team, love you.”

  “Thank you. You did, too,” she said as they entered the garage. “I can’t believe they do this every month. Don’t you get sick of it? It seems like more of an excuse to eat expensive food, drink, and brag about KHB’s newest design awards than anything else.”

  Clients had showed up in droves, and Suzanne gave each and every one of them a good bit of attention, which Serena was actually impressed by. “I can see the value in doing it every once in a while, but every month seems like overkill.”

  “Hey, if I were Suzanne, I’d do something once a year, and I’d invite current clients as well as past clients.”

  “Yes! Exactly. Fewer events could yield higher returns, bringing back past clients and making everyone want to attend because it’s special. I spent my internship working for a design firm in Dartmouth and learning from my sixty-plus-year-old boss. That man had been around. He’s since retired and sold his company, but he believed grassroots marketing efforts and personalized service went a lot further than putting on airs. And I have to tell you, that shaped my thinking.”

  “That’s a good thing. Companies who rely on spending to earn end up having more trouble when economies tank.” Gavin pointed to his car. “That’s mine.”

  “Enjoy the rest of your weekend, and I’ll see you Monday.”

  “You too. And, Serena, I know it seems like you’re constantly fighting the system, but I want you to know that I appreciate the fact that you stand up for what you believe in. You’re a refreshing change to have around and a good reminder of how much I’ve changed.” The sincerity in his eyes shone in stark contrast to the usual lightheartedness she saw.

  “Really? What happened to your small-town roots keeping you grounded?”

  He shook his head with a wry smile. “A stubborn chick showed up and unknowingly made me realize that I accept bullshit even when I don’t agree with it. Maybe it’s time for me to change that.”

  She took a few steps toward the row her car was in and said, “Why do I have the feeling I’m going to be blamed for something bad in the near future?”

  He laughed as he unlocked his car and waved.

  She sat in her car and watched t
he video of Drake again. Elated for him, she sent off a quick text before leaving the garage. More than 11,000 views. I’m dating a rock star! I’m not above kicking the shit out of fangirls, so don’t get any ideas, Mr. Hottie. Xox.

  Two and a half hours later, she climbed out of her car at the resort and inhaled the salty sea air. She followed the undercurrent of smoky wood toward the Bayside community center, where Hagen was sitting on Drake’s lap roasting marshmallows beside Mira and Matt. Emery held a stick over the fire, and behind her Dean stood with one hand on her shoulder, talking on his cell phone. Serena’s entire being exhaled, releasing all her stress and disappointment.

  Hagen hopped off Drake’s lap, and as Drake took the marshmallow off the stick, Hagen spotted Serena. He dropped the stick, getting sticky marshmallow all over Drake, and sprinted toward her, yelling, “Auntie Serena is here!”

  “Don’t touch her—” Mira called out.

  She scooped Hagen into her arms. Her eyes met Drake’s as he rose to his feet, pushing away all the shadows in her heart. A bottomless sense of peace came over her, and she knew this was where she was meant to be. This was home. But her life had become complicated, and she had no idea what home really meant anymore.

  “Hey, kiddo!” She kissed Hagen’s cheek.

  “We’re making s’mores,” he said as he wriggled free. “Uncle Drake is using two pieces of chocolate instead of graham crackers because we ran out. See?” He held up his sticky chocolate fingers.

  Mira rushed over. “I’m sorry! I tried to stop him.”

  Serena looked down at the forest-green V-neck dress she’d worn to the event. There were little chocolate handprints on her hip and shoulder and a chocolate smear across the three sheer lines of material at her waist. After spending the day doing her best to look and act professional and comfortable, being prim and proper and saying all the right things, careful to sit with her knees together and watch her language, she couldn’t help but laugh.