by Donna Fasano
So, instead, he kissed her again.
Her soft lips tasted slightly sweet, as if she’d been nibbling on honey, and he wondered if it could be her lip balm or if it was just his imagination. Holding her in his arms bolstered his confidence. He could do this. He could pull it off. And he intended to do just that because, as he saw it, making this business a success was the only path to achieving his other, more personal plan.
“This could change everything for us,” he whispered against her lips.
“I’m glad you like change.”
The strength in her curt statement snuffed out the subtle alluring hint he’d tried to convey.
She shrugged out of his embrace, continuing to voice her thought. “Because a lot of change is going to have to take place if you want to get a snack bar up and running before next season.”
He heaved a sigh, his arms feeling suddenly empty. He placed his hands on his hips and nodded as he looked around him. “You’re right about that.”
Her head tilted to the side. “So does this mean you’re giving up your job as a life guard?”
“Not this season,” he said. “I couldn’t leave them in a lurch like that.” He offered a small shrug. “I’ll worry about next season later.”
She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “I’m starved. I was about to grab something to eat. You want to come?”
“I’d love to, but I have a few more things I want to do here. And then I have at least two dozen calls to make for Saturday’s auction. You’re still planning to be there, right?”
“I’ll be there,” she told him. She shifted the strap of her leather handbag on her shoulder and walked out the door.
Brad followed her, flipping off the light switch on his way out.
Suddenly, she turned to face him.
“Listen, do you think you could talk Landon into buying Sara some flowers?” she asked. “Or taking her out to dinner tonight? Something to make her feel special? She’s been a little…” She paused before adding, “Stressed.”
“She’s going to have a baby,” Brad said. “Her whole world is about to be turned upside down. It wouldn’t be normal if she wasn’t stressed.”
Cathy shook her head. “It’s more than just the baby. But I can’t, you know…”
Brad nodded. “You can’t rat on your friend?”
Her eyes widened and then she winced. “I did that once. And I’m still paying for it.” She arched her brows at him. “Do you think you could help me help Sara?”
“I can do that. No problem.”
“Thanks, Brad. You’re a peach.”
He watched her walk across the arcade, the gentle sway of her hips making him smile. If he got this right, he just might be able to make her his forever.
“So what did she say?”
Brad snapped his gaze around and saw Jack standing next to the air hockey table. “She’s going to help me plan out the snack bar.”
“That’s good.” Jack slid the screwdriver into his back pocket. “But what did she say?”
A perplexed frown bit into his brow.
“Was she happy about your good fortune?” Jack asked. “Your inheritance?”
When Brad didn’t answer, it was Jack’s turn to frown in bewilderment. “You did tell her, didn’t you?”
Brad gazed off across the building, licked his lips, swallowed. Then he looked back at Jack. “No,” he admitted. “I didn’t tell her.”
“I don’t get it. Why the hell not?”
The conflicting thoughts that had been cluttering Brad’s head since the day he’d learned of his windfall had him going quiet and he looked off toward the far side of the arcade. Through the large plate glass windows, he saw the colorful dinosaurs that decorated the mini golf course; a vibrant green velociraptor, a brick red stegosaurus, and in the distance, the head and neck of a magnificent gray brachiosaurus that towered over all the figures. For the most part, he’d been able to ignore the troubling disquiet that had seemed intent on infecting his brain. But not anymore. Not with Jack confronting him with such a pointed question.
He looked at Jack, his mouth drawing down as he slowly shook his head from side to side.
“I think,” he began, “it’s because, well, all this came too easily.” He swung his hand in a small arc to indicate everything around him. “I’m still trying to wrap my own head around what this will mean. How this is going to change my life. How heavy this load might get.”
Jack’s gaze narrowed. “Load? You’re talking like this might not be a good thing. It’s like you won the freakin’ lottery, man.”
“I know. I know. And I realize it’s a good thing. A great thing.” He clamped his teeth down on his bottom lip for a second, then added, “It’s just that it came, you know, out of the blue.”
Jack laughed. “That’s how good luck works. It thumps you right between the eyes. One second you’re squeaky clean, and the next, the blue bird of happiness done pooped all over you. Abrupt change isn’t always bad.”
“I got that,” he said. “I do. It’s just that this inheritance thing…” The rest of his thought petered out as he sighed. “All this good fortune has started me thinking. I’ve had it so good, you know? I’ve had a good life. I was raised by two parents who love me. I grew up in a great place, had tons of friends. I was popular all through high school. I was well-liked. I breezed through college. I didn’t have to struggle to find a job afterward. I’ve lived in the same house for, well, for forever. I have a real sense of security.”
He paused for a beat. “I’ve lived a charmed life.”
Confusion shadowed Jack’s featured. “Okay,” he said, drawing out the word.
“Cathy, on the other hand,” Brad said, “didn’t have it so easy. She never knew her father, and her mother died of a drug overdose when Cathy was almost too young to remember.” His tone lowered as he added, “Almost.”
Jack’s chin lifted. “Wow. I had no idea.”
“She was raised by her grandmother, a woman who was sour and strict and seemed hell-bent on keeping Cathy attached to her hip so she didn’t follow in her mother’s footsteps.” Memories had Brad grimacing. “When Cathy and I dated back in high school, I can’t tell you the elaborate stories we came up with just so she could get out of the house for a few hours. Nothing that would hurt anyone, mind you. She was just a normal teen wanting a little sip of freedom.”
Shrugging, Jack grinned. “I told my share of white lies as a teen, believe me.”
Brad nodded. Then he said, “Then Cathy’s marriage went bad. And as soon as she came back to Ocean City, her grandmother got sick and ended up passing away.”
“Damn,” Jack said.
“Exactly.”
His friend reached up and scrubbed at the back of his neck. “I guess all that crap is why Cathy’s got such a… hard edge.”
Brad tamped down the knee-jerk insult he felt on Cathy’s behalf. “She’s got a kind streak, too.”
Jack looked dubious.
“You’ve been to the café, right?” Brad shifted his weight. “You know the two old guys who are always at the counter? Yeah, well, Cathy hooked them up. Al and Lyle were both widowers, pretty much lost in their grief. Cathy introduced them, and she puts up with their bickering and their grumpiness every day because, well, if she didn’t they’d be all alone. She…”
He let the rest of the thought fade, brushing his palms together just so he’d have something to do with his hands. “Her tongue might be sharp, but she thinks about others, does things for people, out of the blue. I remember, years ago, my mom was battling a bad case of the flu, and Cathy brought her some homemade chicken noodle soup. She and I weren’t dating at the time or anything. She’d just heard that my mom was sick, and there she was on our doorstep with this container of soup. My parents were amazed at her thoughtfulness.” He shrugged. “So was I.” Then his voice went soft. “But I never really appreciated the gesture until years later.”
Jack rested a fist on his hip.
“If she’s as you say, kind and thoughtful, then…” He shook his head a little. “Why can’t you tell her about your inheritance?”
He sighed. “I don’t know really. For days now, I’ve been wondering why the hell life works out in such extremes for some people. In my case, all good. In Cathy’s case, mostly bad. Shouldn’t life be a balance? I mean, how am I supposed to tell her that some billionaire—who I never really knew—set me up so that I don’t have to worry about money ever again? How unfair is that?”
Uneasiness fringed the sound of Jack’s chuckle. “Look, I’m sorry Cathy’s had it so tough,” he said. “As much as I want to commiserate with you, I think you’re making more of this than you should. I mean, seriously, look around. You hit the jackpot. You shouldn’t spend a single second feeling anything but happy.”
Brad nodded. He got what his friend was telling him, but he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that…
“You’re working to hook up with her, right?” Jack asked. “You want to make her a part of all of this, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Well, if you do—”
“If?”
“Okay, okay.” Jack waved both hands in the air. “When, then. When you do, she’ll be riding on the happy train, too.” Jack lifted his arm at a right angle and pumped his fist in the air, shouting, “Choo chooooooo!”
Brad couldn’t help but laugh. Everything his friend said was true. He wanted Cathy to be a part of this. He couldn’t erase all of the bad she’d suffered, but he could do everything in his power to fill her future with as much happiness as she could stand.
He waited for that feeling of relief to arrive. For the weight of that boulder sitting on his chest to dissolve.
But it didn’t.
Jack gave him a backhanded slap on the shoulder. “I think you owe me a cold one for this therapy session.”
“Yeah,” Brad said vaguely. “You keep this up and I’ll have to start calling you Dr. Jack.”
Jack squared his shoulders. “I like the sound of that.”
The half-cleaned display cabinet sat waiting for attention, and the order forms for the toy companies still needed filling out.
“I’ve got so much crap to do,” he told Jack, “but…”
“I’m telling you, you just need a beer.” Jack set the screwdriver down on the cabinet top. “Tomorrow’s another day.”
“Okay, go get Landon,” Brad suggested. “The three of us can wash up and then head over to Seacrets.”
He watched Jack amble across the floor, struggling with the vague but persistent feeling of unworthiness. Jack had likened this inheritance to winning the lottery. He’d said good luck had thumped him squarely between the eyes. That he should think about this whole thing as a ride on the happy train.
Brad heaved a sigh, still uncertain he deserved a train ticket.
Chapter Six
Cathy entered the Convention Center and was immediately swallowed up in a clamor of conversation, laughter, and music.
“A cacophony of sound,” she murmured, grinning at her use of the Dictionary Word of the Day as she moved down the wide aisle flanked on either side with chairs toward the back of the room where a wide stage had been set up.
People were gathered in dozens of various sized clumps while others milled about the auditorium and still others waited in line at the cash bar. She said hello to those she knew, smiled at those she didn’t. The attire being worn was all over the map, from the extremely casual shorts or capris and flip-flops, to jeans and t-shirts, to upscale casual trousers and tops, to the more formal suits and dresses. Cathy had taken an hour to pick out her outfit and had finally decided on a royal blue, sleeveless, v-neck wrap dress. The ruching along the side seams caused the fabric to cling to her curves. The hem struck her at mid-thigh and, along with her strappy stilettos, showed off her legs to perfection.
The idea of standing on that stage with all eyes trained on her had nerves tapping in her stomach with the ferocity of desperate dancers at an open audition of All That Jazz. She hadn’t felt this freaked out in years. A vivid memory floated up through the anxiety. She’d been seven years old and had woken up in the backseat of her mom’s car. The darkness had spooked her because the sky had been bright blue when her mother had told her to “lock the doors and sit tight for a few minutes,” promising she’d be right back. Then Cathy had seen the eyes, wide and staring into the windows. There must have been half a dozen noses nearly pressed to the glass. She’d screamed bloody murder for what must have been minutes but had felt like long, nightmarish hours.
Living with a drug-addicted mother had been an unpredictable and hellish existence. She silently thanked heaven for her grandmother. It mattered little that the woman had been as stern as a Marine sergeant.
But this was different, she reminded herself. Way different. She had chosen to be the center of attention this time. No bloody-murder screams necessary; no police officers or child protective services stepping in. This was going to be a piece of cake, and it wouldn’t last for more than a few minutes. And besides that, it was all for a very good cause. The smile she forced on her lips helped her to claw her way out of the dark childhood memory. She relaxed her shoulders, took a deep, calming breath. This would be fun. She felt confident that she looked good—thank goodness for fashionable clothes that enhanced a girl’s assets.
Brad stood on the stage with a few others, performing a mic check. He looked amazing in his dark, summer weight suit. The blue tie matched his eyes. It was rare that Cathy got to see him this dressed up. The magnitude of desire the sight of him stirred in her surprised her. Her steps slowed, and she took a moment to stare. But within the span of several quickened heartbeats, he looked up, and when their gazes met, she lifted her hand in greeting. He waved her up onto the stage.
When she reached the top of the stairs, he left the group and came toward her.
“You look like a million dollars,” he murmured, trailing his fingers up her bare arm.
Her mouth went dry, and yearning trilled through her. “You look good yourself.”
He kissed her lightly on the mouth, and she pulled away and narrowed her gaze. These public displays of affection he’d been showing recently confused her. Yes, they were intimate. Wonderfully, deliciously so. But they usually kept things friendly and casual when others were around.
Rather than react to her silent curiosity, he said, “They’re here. Oliver and Amelia. They’ve brought Ethan with them.”
The proceeds of tonight’s fund raiser would go to the Ferguson family.
Cathy gave the crowd a quick glance, but didn’t see them. “That’s great.”
“They’re not going to stay,” Brad told her. “Ethan’s feeling weak today, but Oliver wanted to say a few words.”
“That will be nice. But I’m glad they won’t be staying.” Cathy grinned. “Once these young lifeguards start strutting around this stage, the girls and guys out in the audience are going to go wild. That’s not something a seven-year-old needs to witness.” She looked out toward the ever growing crowd. “Did you expect this many people to show up?”
Brad’s smile went wide. “No, but I’m happy to see it. I hope their pockets are full of cash. More people means more money.”
“True.” When she caught sight of all the lifeguards milling around behind the stage, she wrinkled her nose. “Do you really need me? I mean, look at all those fresh, young bodies… er, ah, faces just waiting to be auctioned off.”
“Yes, I need you.” He clasped her upper arms and looked into her face. “I’m not letting any of the business owners off the hook. I mean it. I’m not letting anyone chicken out.”
“So I’m not the first to ask, huh?”
“No, you’re not. Heather tried to get out of it.”
Cathy arched her brows. “Heather’s here?”
Brad nodded. “Yes. I told you she was coming. And you’re both in for the duration. I need some fodder for the middle-aged crowd.”
“Hey!” She gave his shoulder a playful shove.
He laughed. “Sorry. That’s not what I meant.”
She screwed up her mouth. “That’s exactly what you meant.”
He slid his arms around her and murmured, “Come on, now. Don’t be upset. I’m middle-aged, myself, you know.”
“And that’s supposed to lift my spirits?”
His fingertips pressed into her back, urging her closer, and his voice coursed over her like warm velvet when he whispered into her ear, “Maybe I’m reminding you that time is ticking? And maybe you should think about settling down?”
Cathy let out a low, sexy chuckle. Overt flirting was usually relegated to more private surroundings, but two could play this game. Planting her palm on his chest, she applied just enough pressure to put some space between them.
“Nevah!” Then she flashed him a wicked look. “But if you bid enough to win me, I just might make it worth your while later on tonight, big fella.” She winked. “Now I’m going to go find Heather. I have a few choice words for that woman.”
The momentum of her spin had her hair whipping into her face, but she didn’t dare spoil the effect of her exit by reaching up to brush it aside. She focused all her attention on the slow sway of her hips as she walked away from him.
In their on-going game of tease and tantalize, she felt she had won this round.
She meandered among the backstage “fodder,” as Brad called those who were being auctioned off, looking for Heather. The lifeguards were in high spirits. Most of them sported their daily uniform—bright red trunks for the guys and two-piece suits for the young women. They laughed and razzed each other about who would bring in the largest bid. These nubile hard-bodies would be in high demand, that’s for sure. Hell, if Cathy had been fifteen years younger, she’d have been out in that audience, front row, center seat, with every nickel of her summer savings.
Chuckling, she swung her gaze to the left and caught sight of Daniel. Her steps slowed when she saw Heather standing beside him.
Good friends were like stars in the sky; you couldn’t always see them, but you just knew they were there. Constant. Dependable. Oh, bright daylight or gray clouds might obscure them for a time; however, night always came, and clouds eventually passed by.