Searching for Sea Glass: BEST-SELLING AUTHOR (Sea Glass Secrets Book 1)

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Searching for Sea Glass: BEST-SELLING AUTHOR (Sea Glass Secrets Book 1) Page 7

by Wingate, Teal


  “I understand that Ma’am. But there’s just none available. The flight that was supposed to be bringing it in is delayed at LAX,” Consuelo answered. Her worried voice was heavy with an accent.

  “Listen to me. I’m going to say it real slow so you can understand. I’m getting married in two hours. And I will be carrying a Plumeria bouquet. I swear to God, if I’m not carrying that bouquet down the aisle, I’ll make sure you and all your aunts and cousins and whoever the hell else you claim are kin will all be deported before the sun goes down.

  “You can’t do that, Miss Simmons. I’m an American citizen.”

  “If I don’t get that bouquet, you’ll just see what I can do.” Leanne dismissed the housekeeper with a flick of her fingers. She turned back to her soon to be mother-in-law.

  “Do you think the crown is too much?” she asked. She looked at herself in the huge-gilt framed mirror leaning against the wall of the bedroom. It’d taken Leanne five long years to get here. She didn’t want to screw it up.

  “No, dear, I told you when we bought it. A woman should always wear something Tiffany on her wedding day. I think it’s very tasteful and a perfect foil for the medieval lace veil.”

  That’s what Helene McIntyre said. But it was not what she truly thought. She turned her critical eyes to the social climber her son had decided to marry. It wasn’t a love match. JD wasn’t capable of that. And he wasn’t being coerced. No one was adept at intimidating him. She knew. She’d tried it herself when he was a child. Skilled though she was, she’d failed.

  So Helene wondered, in a detached kind of way, why her eldest son had chosen this woman to marry. Leanne was stunning, in a purely superficial way. But there was clearly no breeding there. Helene gave the marriage six months at the outside. There must be a huge business deal involved. That’s the only thing she could think of that would lure cold-blooded JD into marrying.

  “Darling, do tell me how you managed to corral JD. I thought the boy would never get married,” Helene said in a deceptively kind voice. She took another sip from her champagne glass. She eyed Leanne over the crystal rim.

  The bride smirked. She didn’t know anyone else on the planet who would have the temerity to call JD McIntyre a boy. Half the time, she wondered if he was even human. His icy disregard, not only for her, but for everyone frightened her at times. But then she thought about all his lovely money. And that he was the unacknowledged sovereign of the Social Register in Dallas. It didn’t hurt that their wedding was being covered in the media as if he was a British prince.

  She still couldn’t believe he’d finally agreed to her bargain. And that’s really what this marriage was, a business contract. There were some charity things he wanted to do in her name. She still didn’t understand that part. Why would anybody give millions to orphanages, drug rehabs, and other nonprofits and let somebody else take the credit? It boggled the mind. And as for sex, she had agreed in the pre-nup that he would do what he wanted. She’d look the other way. There would never be any children. Neither one of them wanted any. But again, no kids was a point specified in the pre-nup. To be sure she didn’t saddle him with a bastard, he’d insisted she get a long-term birth control implant. She’d opted for sterilization instead. That way she’d never lose her wealth. She liked sex. And she wasn’t going to go without. Every kind of birth control had some margin of error. Getting your tubes tied was permanent.

  She didn’t want to be pregnant. But she’d have liked to be in his bed again. He’d been the best lover, she’d ever had. And that was saying a whole lot considering her promiscuity. But JD hadn’t slept with her since that disastrous night on the Gulf Coast five years ago. She’d seriously overplayed her hand that time. And she’d also underestimated his self-control. Even last Christmas Eve, when it was freezing, and she’d shown up naked, under a fur coat, at his door. All she’d gotten was the threat of the police and a head cold.

  “Darling? Did you hear my question?” There was a sharp edge to Helene’s voice. She didn’t like not getting an immediate answer.

  “I beg your pardon?” Leanne blinked.

  “I was just wondering why you and JD finally decided to tie the knot? I was under the impression you had parted a few years back on bitter terms.”

  Leanne slapped a sickly sweet smile on her crimson lips. “Now why would you think such a thing, Helene?” She fluffed at the enormous poufy skirt of the gown. “We just needed a breather. You know how passionate affairs work. The fire burns hot and bright. If the couple isn’t careful, they can be left with cinders instead of true love.”

  Helene arched one penciled eyebrow. “And that’s what you and JD have, true love?”

  “Of course, how could you ever think anything else? I would give him my soul.”

  “I imagine you would,” Helene said in a voice as dry as the Mojave Desert. She sipped at her glass. The older woman was sure Leanne would give JD her soul and anything else he wanted in exchange for money. “Consuelo?” she called.

  The heavyset Hispanic woman bustled into the room. “Si, Mrs. Helene?”

  “Take this, will you?” Helene said. She handed the housekeeper her cell phone. “It ruins the lines of my silk jacket. I shouldn’t be getting any calls. But if I do, just tell them I’m busy and I’ll get back to them when I can. Can you do that?”

  “Si, Ma’am.”

  Two hours later, a long line of black limos pulled up to the biggest church in Dallas. One by one their doors were opened by stern-faced servants. The last vehicle in the line rolled up to the curb with a great deal of pompous ceremony. Leanne Simmons stepped out into the spring sunshine. She turned in a complete circle so that everyone who had gathered to see the wedding of the year got a good look at the bride. Her diamond tiara seemed to catch fire in the brilliant sunlight. The beading on her gown glittered with her every movement. Her veil was a museum piece. The spider-web priceless lace floated about her like a gossamer shield.

  With a dramatic dip of her head, Leanne acknowledged the crowds lining the sidewalks. She heard the whir and click of innumerable cameras. Professional photographers from every fashion magazine, celebrity tabloid, and society scandal sheet elbowed each other in their haste to get their ‘money shot’. She smiled. She’d done it. She’d bagged the biggest matrimonial prize in Dallas history. With no small amount of malice, she wondered how her sorority sisters felt now? They’d have to sing their chapter’s wedding blessing to her at the reception. They’d have to curtsy to her when they came through the receiving line. Life was sweet. And everything, everything she’d been forced to do had been worth it. She would be Mrs. John Deacon McIntyre, even if the man detested her.

  In the cool interior of the church, Helene took pride of place in the mother-of-the-groom pew. She sat by herself because Sam, her other son, was JD’s best man. And her wretched, disobedient daughter still had not confessed her sin and returned home.

  Candles flickered. The air was heavy with the scent of Plumeria. The church was completely filled. Even with a steward checking invitations on the steps, the interior of the holy place was standing room only. Somehow Consuelo had managed to procure a spot halfway up one side of the church. The woman stood under a lavish stained-glass window. She carried not only her purse, but an emergency bag of necessities that Helene often required. Her employer’s cell phone was in the housekeeper’s hand. She had muted it, of course. But she kept a very close eye on the thing. Consuelo could not afford to fail in any of her duties. Jobs that paid as well as hers, were very hard to come by. And after the Plumeria scare, Consuelo was taking no chances.

  The string orchestra began the majestic and sedate Wedding March. Leanne was nothing if not traditional in her wedding musical choices. Consuelo watched as everyone rose to their feet when the beautiful blonde bride glided down the center aisle on her father’s arm.

  Sea Glass Café

  Billy Murphy was very proud of himself. He’d earned his pre-school diploma. That very morning, he’d stood on the st
age of the elementary school’s cafeteria in his blue graduation gown and his funny flat hat. He’d had a whole bunch of people cheer for him when he’d gone up to the principal when his name was called. Everybody had been there. Sunny had driven him to school in their new car. Even Trey had arrived in his sheriff’s cruiser. Its lights had been flashing in honor of Billy’s great achievement.

  After the ceremony, everybody had come back to Sea Glass Café for a celebration. Harry made special hamburgers for them all. Maude Evelyn performed a dance all by herself, one she’d made up just for him. Trinity even let him feel her tummy. She and Trey were going to have a baby real, real soon. Billy got to feel the baby kick and jump in Trinity’s big belly. But best of all, Sunny gave him his own sea glass jar.

  He and Sunny went down to the beach all the time looking for sea glass. Some days they didn’t find anything. But some days they found lots of pieces of the smooth pretty glass.

  He’d been allowed to play with Sunny’s collection ever since he was a baby. Almost every day he took the pretty glass rocks out and lined them up on the living room floor. There were so many, he could make a long line all the way into Sunny’s bedroom. That’s how he’d found the little card and the picture yesterday.

  He knew her dresser was her own private space. Just like his toy box was his own private space. But nobody was around, and he just couldn’t help peeking into the bottom drawer. Way in the back, under Sunny’s swimsuit he found a really old letter, a black and white picture, and that funny little card. The letter wasn’t too interesting. But the card and the picture were pretty awesome.

  Billy knew his phone number. Sunny had made sure he could say it before he started pre-school. So he knew that was somebody’s phone number on the little card. He couldn’t read everything on the card. But he knew his letters and he knew he recognized a J and a D.

  The big man in the picture looked scary. He was wearing some kind of weird clothes. A black coat, a white shirt, and a funny black stumpy tie. Billy had never seen anybody dressed like that. Not even on Sundays when Sunny dragged him to church.

  Billy wondered if the man might be his daddy. He’d asked Sunny about his daddy, a lot. She said she’d tell him when he got older. Wasn’t five old enough? So, even though he knew it was stealing. And stealing was one of the baddest things a person could do. Billy hid the card and the picture in his bookbag.

  He’d just finished his special pre-school graduation hamburger when he remembered it. The grownups were all laughing and talking. Nobody noticed when he snuck off to get his stolen loot. He hoisted the bookbag up over his shoulders. He started towards the door.

  “Master William, where are you off too?” Maude Evelyn’s question made everybody at the table turn to look at him.

  He should have watched out for her. Maude Evelyn might be real, real old, but she had eyes like a hawk.

  “I’m just going to put up my bookbag up,” he mumbled. Now he was a liar as well as a thief. His sins just kept piling up.

  “Come right back, sweetie. Harry made you a cake,” Sunny said with a loving smile.

  That only made Billy’s conscience hurt more. But he had made a plan. And he was going to do it, no matter what. He was going to call the number on that little card. He was going to ask that man in the funny black coat if he was Billy’s daddy. It would only take a minute. He’d do it and be back before any of the grown ups started wondering about him.

  Trotting down the shell-lined path behind the restaurant, he made it to the porch fast. He ran into the living room. He plopped down on the white slipcover of the saggy sofa. He looked through the living room’s big window. Nobody had followed him. Billy dug way down in the bookbag. He unzipped the secret compartment. He pinched the end of the card and pulled it out. He laid the smudged thing on the white-painted end table. His tongue stuck out of one corner of his mouth as he carefully dialed the numbers on their old telephone. Sunny had taught him how to dial 911 a long time ago. It was easy. This number was longer, so it was harder. Especially with their weird old phone. Sunny didn’t think it was weird, she said it was vintage.

  The phone started ringing. It rang and rang and rang.

  McIntyre Wedding

  Dallas

  Consuelo jumped when she felt the strong vibration in her hand. She’d gotten distracted by the beauty of the wedding. Her mind had begun to wander. Now she was scrambling to look at the caller ID. Mrs. McIntyre had given her very specific instructions. If somebody called, she was to answer the phone and tell them her employer would call them back.

  What should she do? The church was so crowded, there was no way she could exit it without creating a scene. But Mrs. McIntyre would be furious if the housekeeper didn’t answer the phone and relay her prescribed message.

  Consuelo turned to the stained-glass window. She tried to shield what she was doing from the guests near her. She hunched over. She cupped the phone in two hands and pressed what she thought was a mute button. Suddenly the quiet sanctuary was filled with the blaring of a small child’s voice.

  “Hello? Hello? My name is Billy. I found your picture in my mama’s underwear drawer. Well, she’s not really my mama. My real mama lives down at the cemetery. Her name is Willow. Like the tree. But my other mama, the one with the underwear drawer? She had your phone number on a piece of… coloring paper under her bathing suit. You know, that kind of vanilla paper your teacher gives you to draw on? Hello? Hello? You sure are quiet. JD, is that your name? JD sure is a funny name. But it’s on this little piece of vanilla paper. I called cause I was just wanting to know. Are you my daddy?”

  Consuelo began to sob quietly. She’d lost her job for sure. The laughter began as a mere ripple of titters towards the back of the sanctuary. It didn’t take long for it to grow into full-throated roars. Soon the whole church was howling with malicious glee.

  The bride said a few words that would not be suitable to appear in print on the front page of the next morning’s newspaper. The groom watched her throw her pricey Hawaiian bouquet to the pale marble floor. She stomped it three times before she galloped down the aisle away from her groom, the pastor, and all her bridesmaids. The Tiffany tiara bumped up and down like a fishing float on a stormy sea as she ran. It slid precariously to one side of her fancy, teased coiffure. A photographer stationed by the huge double doors of the church caught an image of her snarling with the dainty crown lurching drunkenly over one ear. It was the money shot. That too, would grace the next day’s newspapers.

  The groom didn’t seem too concerned. He nodded to the preacher. He whispered something to his best man. And then he strolled down the aisle like he owned the place.

  Sea Glass Café

  That Same Evening

  It was a Saturday. That meant it was Blues and Barbeque Night at the café. Sunny had taken over as the server. Trinity was too close to her due date to be waiting on tables. The place was full. And there was a line out in the parking lot. A little three piece blues group jammed in one corner of the dining room. Harry was back in the kitchen carving barbeque. He’d been up most of last night tending the makeshift pit behind the café.

  A little girl in a pink tutu bumped into Sunny as she slowly made her way through the crowd. A few older couples were trying to circulate around the little postage stamp-sized dance floor. She balanced a tray full of drinks. Everybody wanted to talk to everybody else. It could have been pandemonium. It should have been. But it was just another Saturday night at Sea Glass Café.

  “Hey Miss Sunny,” tutu child said with a wide smile.

  Sunny smiled back at her. “Good evening, Miss Olivia. I see you came ready to dance tonight.”

  Olivia was one of Sunny’s students at Maude Evelyn’s Dance Studio. To Sunny’s surprise, teaching the preschool ballet classes had been a wonderful experience. She’d met a lot of other young mothers. And she’d found that if she couldn’t be a prima ballerina herself, she could enjoy instructing future ones.

  “I want to dance, but I d
on’t have nobody to dance with.”

  “Billy’s over there with Miss Trinity and Mr. Trey. He’s about your size. I bet he’ll dance with you.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Go on, ask him. He likes to dance,” Sunny gave her a little encouragement.

  She watched as Olivia dragged her feet all the way over to the cash register. Billy sat on a high stool behind the counter. Trinity was busy collecting money. Her husband Trey stood by the front door, watching the crowd. Sunny really didn’t need him to stand there looking like some kind of bar bouncer. But she would admit he kept the café’s patrons from getting too rowdy. The closer Trinity got to her due date, the more Trey seemed to hang out at the restaurant.

  Sunny delivered her tray of drinks and was taking the table’s dinner order when a sudden quiet descended upon the noisy place. Looking over her shoulder, she felt her stomach drop to the floor.

  Standing in the doorway was JD McIntyre. His tuxedo was wildly out of place amid the worn jeans and tourist shorts of the crowd. And his face was hard and cold. He stepped into the middle of the dining room and looked around. His lethal silver gaze was as hot as a laser. About that time, even the little band realized something was going on. The music abruptly stopped in the middle of a refrain.

  McIntyre walked towards Sunny. Well, in her mind, he seemed more like a jungle cat stalking its prey. She’d always been afraid this day would come, sooner or later. But she sure wished it had come some other time and some other place. And she sure wished she was better dressed for the occasion. It was hard to be intimidating in a pair of ripped jeans and a pink tie-dyed tee-shirt with Sea Glass Café printed across your bosom. The braid trailing down her back didn’t help much either. And she’d told herself more than once, that a swipe of cherry chapstick could not properly be called makeup.

 

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