by Maria Geraci
“On the same page?”
He nodded. She snuggled up against him and stifled a yawn against his neck.
“I’m glad you decided to take the weekend off,” Joe said.
“Me too.” For a brief second she thought about Florida Charlie’s. But everything had to be okay. Penny had promised she’d call if it wasn’t.
“So you like this place? This bed-and-breakfast?”
“It’s great.” This time she couldn’t stop the yawn. She let her fingers drift over his chest. In the next two seconds, she’d be asleep.
“I was worried maybe it wouldn’t be as nice as it looked on the outside.” He placed his hand over hers, the one that was making the lazy patterns over his skin, and stilled it. “I thought about taking you to my dad’s condo.”
It was an unfinished thought, one that made Grace suddenly alert.
“Why didn’t you? Does your father have it rented out?”
“He doesn’t rent it out. I have a key, but I’ve never used it.”
“Why not?” she asked softly.
“I used to love that place when I was kid. Lots of windows. Right on the beach . . . My dad and I built this huge sand castle one summer. It took us an entire day. A local photographer took a picture of it and it showed up in the paper.”
Although she couldn’t see his face, she sensed him smile. She could also sense when the smile disappeared.
“I don’t go there because that’s where my father used to take his girlfriends.”
“You mean, before he married your mother?”
“No, I mean while he was married to my mother.”
Grace didn’t know what to say.
“Of course, I didn’t know that’s what they were at the time. One summer, instead of coming up with us, my mom stayed back home to attend some charity event. I think they got in a fight about it, I’m not sure. I was only six or seven. So my dad and I got here and about an hour later this woman showed up. I thought she was the babysitter.”
She could feel his heart beating with her palm. Oddly, it felt slow and steady. It was only her heart that was beating faster.
“Fucking bastard.” He laughed, but it sounded more like a rusty growl.
Grace remembered the night she’d told him about Craig cheating on Sarah and how Felix had cheated on her. When she’d asked him if he’d ever been cheated on before, he’d answered no, but his expression had seemed off. She understood now. He’d been cheated on too, just not in the usual way.
“Apparently he had quite a reputation with the ladies. Especially among the ones who worked in his office.”
Joe’s firm insistence on keeping his private life separate from his professional life made more sense now. She could even understand why he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that he knew her in front of Tiffany. Not with the way she and Joe had first “met.”
He shrugged. “He is what he is. I’ve accepted that and he and I are okay now. But I wanted you to know why I didn’t take you to the condo. In case you thought . . . I don’t know . . .”
There was something so incredibly vulnerable in his voice that Grace couldn’t stand it anymore. Her heart felt like it was swelling, getting bigger and bigger while it pushed the rest of her organs off to the sides. She could hardly take a breath. She wanted to reach inside her chest and stop it, it hurt so much.
“Joe . . . I—” She shook her head, not sure of what she’d been about to say. So she kissed him instead. A deep, powerful, hungry kiss that she knew he’d respond to. And then he jumped her. Or maybe she jumped him. And this time he wasn’t sweet and slow and thoughtful, and that was perfectly fine with her.
“This place is beautiful and creepy at the same time,” Grace said.
They were inside the Spanish fort, gazing into one of the tiny holding rooms where prisoners had been housed during one of the many skirmishes over the fort’s illustrious history. After a morning spent at the Ripley’s Believe It or Not Museum, they had lunch at The Columbia restaurant, where Grace had pronounced the ropa vieja not nearly as good as her mother’s. They’d made it to the fort just in time to see the last cannon demonstration of the day.
They climbed the steps to the observation deck, and when they reached the top, Joe kissed her. It was impulsive and Grace couldn’t help but feel relieved. Although they’d had a nice enough day, Joe had seemed distant, which was unlike him, especially in light of last night’s intimacy.
His cell phone went off. “It’s my mother,” he said, glancing at the screen.
Joe’s mother had already called once this morning, during breakfast. Joe hadn’t asked for privacy, so Grace had listened as they were eating. His end of the conversation had been basically a series of grunts. They spoke for a few minutes, with Joe once again giving noncommittal answers before he snapped the phone shut.
“Is she okay?” Grace asked.
“Everything’s fine,” he said.
They finished their tour of the fort and were walking back to the bed-and-breakfast when Joe’s phone went off again. He looked at the screen and slipped his cell back in his pocket without answering.
“Is it your mom?” Grace asked, beginning to get worried.
Joe told her it wasn’t. He placed his hand in hers and they walked back to the bed-and-breakfast. They had just walked into their room when she heard the pinging sound that meant he’d just received a text message.
What was with all the calls? Grace was dying to ask who it was, but if Joe wanted to share, then he would. A myriad of crazy thoughts flashed through Grace’s mind. She wasn’t jealous of Melanie, or anyone else for that matter, but still . . .
“I’ll go run a bath,” Grace said, slipping into the bathroom to allow him some privacy. When she came out a few minutes later to retrieve something out of her suitcase, Joe was packing his bag.
“Baby, I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to cut the weekend short.”
“Is your mother all right?”
“My mother’s fine.” He paused. “Let’s just say there’s some family drama going on that I have to take care of.” She waited for him to expound but he didn’t.
“Okay, I’ll just gather up my stuff.”
He reached out and pulled her in his arms. “Hey, this has nothing to do with us,” he said, his voice all warm and husky. “I had a good weekend.”
She smiled, relieved. “Me too.”
“Tonight’s not over. I’m going to drop you off at your place, go handle the Rosenblum version of 911, and come back. Although it will probably be late. Maybe around midnight, if that’s okay.”
“Not a problem. And Joe, don’t worry. I understand. Family comes first.”
27
The Curse Strikes Again
Joe dropped her off at her town house, so Grace called Sarah and made plans to attend the Dragon’s housewarming party. In a way, Grace was okay with the way things had turned out. She’d had her romantic getaway with Joe, but now that it had been cut short, she could support Sarah. She didn’t once consider going to the boyfriend club meeting at The Continental. Penny and Ellen could handle things for one night.
Sarah said the Dragon was on the fussy side, so best to dress up. Grace didn’t have time to think about what to wear, so she donned the same red silk sheath she’d worn to dinner the previous night in St. Augustine, which luckily had traveled well and hadn’t wrinkled. Sarah wore a coral-colored cocktail dress shot through with gold metallic thread and matching gold belt. Her hair was twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck. She looked like she’d just walked out of a fashion magazine, all cool and elegant and sexy, and Grace couldn’t help but feel how unfair it was that Craig was already remarried and here Sarah was starting over, going on a blind date of all things.
“Thanks for tagging along,” Sarah said, turning her car onto a side street. “What did Joe say? He had a family crisis to take care of?”
“Something like that.”
A man wearing an orange vest waved them forward to
the next vacant spot along the grassy edge of the road. Grace estimated there must be over forty cars already parked. Brightly lit tiki torches lined both sides of the path leading to the front door.
“Parking attendants and everything. Very fancy,” Grace said. Just as they were about to step inside the house, Sarah grabbed her wrist. “Now be honest. Tell me if you hate it. Tell me if you think it’s too fussy.”
The house was a four-thousand-square-foot Mediterranean revival with a backyard view of the river. The floors were wall-to-wall polished Mexican tile. There were lots of leather pieces and dark woods, but it wasn’t overdone. Everything seemed to serve a purpose, giving the home a minimalist feel befitting the architecture. The color scheme consisted of burnt orange, gold, and brown, making the home feel warm and inviting.
Sarah guided her to a small hallway off the foyer and into the formal living room. Three floor-to-ceiling picture windows looked out into a small courtyard patio with a bubbling fountain. In the center of the room was the infamous floral couch. A baby grand piano sat in one corner. Grace had to admit, it was a more feminine version of the rest of the house, but it all flowed beautifully. She knew Sarah was good, but this was artistry.
“It’s beautiful!” Grace said. “It’s you, but it’s not. I mean, it’s like the house decorated itself the way it should.”
“Really? You like it?”
“No, I don’t like it. I love it.”
Sarah’s face glowed at the compliment. Grace couldn’t help a rush of envy. Sarah had known since high school what she’d wanted to do with her life. Charlie lived, breathed, and practically ate the law. Then there was Ellen, who would shrivel and die if she couldn’t quote a legion of dead writers. Grace loved Florida Charlie’s, but being the manager of a tourist store wasn’t exactly a calling.
“Sarah!” a deep female voice called, making them both turn.
“Nora Sherman, I presume,” Grace muttered as she and Sarah watched the elegantly clad sixty-something woman walk into the room. The Dragon was shorter than Grace had imagined, but then with a nickname like the Dragon, Grace had also been expecting her to be green and have scales. She had lively blue eyes and thick brown hair styled in a pageboy. She also emitted a high energy to which Grace was immediately drawn.
“Mrs. Sherman, everything looks wonderful!” Sarah said.
Nora Sherman frowned at their empty hands. “Where are your drinks? Why don’t you have drinks?” She hailed a tuxedo-clad server and demanded he bring them champagne at once. He instantly complied. Not that there was any doubt that he would. Nora Sherman had the air of someone who always got her way. Grace almost felt sorry for her doctor son. She also now knew why Sarah had given in on the floral couch. “That’s much better.” She gave Sarah a hug and smiled curiously at Grace. “And you brought a friend!”
Sarah made the introductions.
“Grace O’Bryan,” the Dragon mused. “Why does that name seem familiar? Are you related to the Fort Lauderdale O’Bryans by any chance?”
“No, ma’am, just the Daytona Beach O’Bryans.”
“You’re not Jewish, are you? Have I seen you at Temple?”
“Um, no.”
“Oh, well.” She linked her arm through Grace’s to pull her off to the side. “Has Sarah told you I’m fixing her up with my son?” Although Sarah was just a few feet away, she didn’t bother lowering her voice.
“She’s mentioned it.”
“Do you have a boyfriend, Grace?” Then, before Grace could answer, she said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with young people today! Take my son, a handsome, eligible doctor, and he’s still single and seems perfectly content to stay that way. Which leaves me all the work of finding him a wife. When am I going to have grandchildren? What’s there to live for if I don’t have grandchildren? What’s the purpose of this house, the purpose of all my money, if I can’t spoil someone rotten?”
Grace could only nod, mesmerized by the Dragon’s power. Poor Sarah. The Dragon might not let her leave tonight until the next generation of Sherman offspring was neatly tucked inside her uterus. Grace could hear her now: “But, sweetheart, the guests are already here!” A shotgun wedding and consummation all at once.
The Dragon dropped Grace’s arm. “You two stay right here. Don’t move a hair! Not one hair on those gorgeous heads of yours. I’m going to get Phillip right now.”
“Why do I feel like we’re stuck in a modern day version of Fiddler on the Roof?” Grace said once they were alone again.
“Just play nice, and when she’s not looking, we can make a fast escape. Maybe we can even make the club meeting tonight. Ellen’s been sharpening her laptop. Should be interesting.”
Before Grace could respond, the Dragon was back, her arm looped around a surprisingly handsome man. Introductions were made. Dr. Phillip Sherman, cardiologist, mid-thirties, somewhere between medium and tall (which meant tall for Sarah), sandy brown hair, blue eyes. Phillip looked as embarrassed as he should be under the circumstances, and Grace couldn’t help but instantly like him for it.
“I’ll just leave you two young people alone.” She tried to wave Grace out the door. “Let me show you what Sarah did upstairs in my bedroom.”
Uncertain what to do, Grace looked to Sarah, who gave her the “leave and you die” stare. “Maybe later, Mrs. Sherman.”
The Dragon frowned. “How about I bring a fresh round of champagne,” she said, going after a waiter.
“We have about three minutes until she comes back with reinforcements,” Phillip said, eliciting a relaxed smile from Sarah. “So . . . you’re the decorating goddess my mother can’t stop talking about.”
“That’s me,” Sarah said, raising her champagne flute in mock salute.
“And I’m playing the role of best friend who’s come along to chaperone,” Grace added.
Phillip smiled, but along with the embarrassment there was also undisguised weariness in his eyes. “I love what you’ve done to the place,” he said to Sarah. “The lobster bisque color you used in the family room really makes that north wall pop.”
Sarah gave Phillip a discreet once-over that Grace immediately caught. “You think so? I almost told the painters to go entirely with the cream, but I wanted just a hint of something different.”
“It’s very subtle. Mother would never have thought of it herself.”
Grace listened to the two of them talk. Phillip was an avid sailor as well as an amateur photographer. He’d taken all the sailboat pictures that Sarah had strategically placed throughout the house. Sarah kept throwing little smiles Grace’s way and Grace politely smiled back.
“Here we are!” the Dragon said. Grace glanced at her watch. Her timing must be off. It had taken five minutes for the reinforcements. Nora had brought along another woman, maybe a couple of years younger than her and with a less animated air. “This is my sister, Lydia, who’s visiting from Fort Lauderdale but I’m trying to convince her to move up here, and if she does—and she will, because I always get my way—she’ll need a decorator. Sarah, darling, do you have your cards with you?”
Sarah pulled a business card from her clutch and handed it to the Dragon’s sister, who smiled and thanked her. Grace was instantly mesmerized. There was something familiar about her but Grace was positive she’d never met her before tonight.
“Joe! Sweetheart, come here, come here!” Nora Sherman called to someone in the foyer. That’s when Grace realized what was so familiar about Lydia’s smile. It was the dimples!
“I have someone I want you to meet.” She winked at Grace. “My nephew, who by the way is also single. Not an MD, he’s a DDS.” She whispered in Grace’s ear, “Personally, a much better occupation for married life. None of those terrible overnight calls my poor Phillip has to take.” Then in a louder voice, “You didn’t know there’d be two of them, did you, Sarah! I have to say I’m surprised myself. Rarely do I have both my favorite men in the same place at the same time.”
Grace turned to see Jo
e stroll into the room, hands in his pockets. He spotted her and, for a second, stopped in his tracks, but then he forced a smile and pushed ahead. This was the family drama that had cut their weekend short? Why hadn’t he simply told her he had a familial obligation to attend his aunt’s party? Grace would have understood. Especially after meeting the Dragon. There was no way anyone could say no to the woman.
“Here he is! My other beautiful boy!” Nora stood on tiptoe to give Joe a peck on the cheek, then made a hasty round of introductions.
This wasn’t how Grace had imagined meeting Joe’s family. Maybe this was a good thing, though. There was no time to be nervous or second guess what she’d worn. She moistened her lips and smiled. “We actually already know one another,” Grace said.
“Really!” Nora’s eyes widened. “Joe, are you holding out on us?” She turned to her sister. “Lydia! Why didn’t you tell—”
“Grace is a patient of mine.” Joe smiled again and Grace froze. It was the same smile he’d given her in his office three months ago when he’d pretended he’d never met her before. Impersonal. Professional.
“Isn’t that a coincidence? Not that Daytona Beach is that big, but still, what are the odds? Now that we have a happy four-some here, I say we leave the young people alone to do what they do best. Lydia and I are going to mingle with the old stodgy folks.” The Dragon took her sister by the hand. Joe’s mother smiled apologetically and let herself be dragged away.
Had Joe really just introduced Grace as one of his patients?
Sarah cleared her throat nervously, and Phillip looked on, confused, because he could tell something was happening, only he wasn’t sure exactly what it was.
Grace set her champagne flute on a table and made fast tracks for the front door.
“I’ll just follow her,” she heard Sarah say.
But Joe caught up with Grace first. His hand touched her elbow. “Grace—”
She spun around. “Oh! It’s my dentist, Dr. Rosenblum. Fancy meeting you here.”
He winced at her sarcasm. “Let’s go outside where we can talk.”