Beach Reads Boxed Set

by Marie Force

  Ted and Caroline went home around four in the morning to get some sleep and to change. He called work to tell them he would be out indefinitely due to a family emergency, and he left a message for Martin Nickerson to let the department chief know he would have to send someone else to the conference in New York that week. Ted would either be at his grandmother’s bedside or at her funeral over the next few days.

  They were at Boston City Hall at ten o’clock to get a marriage license. From there they went to a jewelry store to buy wedding bands. As they were leaving the store, Ted checked his phone for the hundredth time since they had gotten up. “I wish Parker would call me back.”

  “Why don’t you call his office?” Caroline suggested. “Maybe his assistant knows how to reach him.”

  “Good idea. I should’ve thought of that. You’re going to need to do the thinking for both of us for a while, honey.”

  “I can do that.”

  Ted called Parker’s office and learned he had called in earlier to let them know he was taking the day off, but they didn’t have a number for him other than his cell.

  “I’ll bet he’s somewhere with Gina.”

  “Try his cell again,” Caroline said.

  When Parker’s voicemail picked up, Ted said, “Parker, my grandmother has had a heart attack, and she’s dying. She’s in the Mass General ICU, and she asked me to find Smitty to tell him she wants to see him. I need you to help me get in touch with him. I have no idea where he is in Sydney, and I figured that between you and your father, one of you has a number for him. I know you’re upset about what you saw last night, but I need your help. I’ll explain the rest as soon as I can.”

  “That ought to do it,” Caroline said.

  “I hope so. I can’t imagine she’s got a ton of time left, and we’ve lost a bunch of it playing bullshit phone tag games.”

  “I’m glad that things seemed to have worked out for Parker with Gina.”

  “I am, too. I hope I get a chance to tell him so.”

  “You will, Ted.”

  He pulled into a parking space at the hospital and leaned over to kiss her. “Thank you again for what you’re doing for my grandmother. No one dreams of getting married this way.”

  “Are you kidding?” she asked with a smile. “Don’t you know what a great story this’ll give us to tell our children someday? ‘Daddy and I were married three weeks to the day after we met.’”

  He smiled. “Don’t forget to tell them, ‘It was okay for us but not for you.’”

  “That goes without saying.”

  “Are your parents going to freak out when they hear about this?”

  “Maybe a little, but I’ll fix it with them. Don’t worry about that. How are you feeling about your mother?”

  He sighed. “I’m hoping she’s going to be in the room when we get married. Beyond that, I don’t know what to say.”

  With her hand on his face, she turned him to look at her. “I want you to know I’m not just doing this because your grandmother asked us to.”

  “No?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t wait to be your wife, and the last thing I want is for you to take these vows with me today and think I’m doing it for any other reason than I love you and want to spend my life with you.”

  “I love you, too, Caroline Ann,” he said, teasing her with the middle name he had learned about at City Hall. “I don’t know what I ever did to get so lucky.”

  “Let’s go get married and give your grandmother some peace of mind.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Smitty slept in on Saturday after having worked late into the night to catch up on all his regular client accounts. His assistant in New York had forwarded Ted’s urgent message, but Smitty hadn’t called him back. Fuck him. I’m not ready to talk to him yet.

  After spending two full days examining the Jergenson files, he was pleased with what he had seen so far and had e-mailed Bill Kepler to let him know that from his initial impressions the purchase looked like a go. Smitty figured he would need two more weeks at the most to complete his review. Since he was in no rush to go home, he had decided to take his time.

  He’d spent most of the last two days with Marjorie and had been impressed by her command of complicated business concepts as well as her devotion to her employees. From those who had known her since childhood, he had learned her nickname was Margo and she was a talented artist.

  He was unsettled by the subtle interest in him that he had felt coming from her during their long days at work and over dinner each night when they discussed his lengthy list of questions. Since he couldn’t be any less interested in pursuing romance with her or any woman, he had ignored the signals and focused on the work.

  Under other circumstances he might have found her attractive. More than attractive, actually. All those curls and the sprinkling of freckles across her nose were really cute. She also had a way of sizing him up with her astute brown eyes that told him he wouldn’t get away with much if he were to act on the signals she was sending. Normally, that kind of sassiness appealed to him, but since he wasn’t interested, it didn’t matter.

  Smitty took his coffee with him when he went to look out at the sunny day in Sydney. He ran a hand over his bare chest and stretched out the kinks from the long, busy week. He found it hard to believe that just seven days ago he had been unaware of how dramatically his life was about to change.

  A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He crossed the room and opened the door to Marjorie. She had tied her hair back in a high ponytail and wore jeans with a yellow T-shirt. Today she looked about eight years old, but her eyes skirted over his bare chest with a woman’s appreciation.

  “Come in.” He stepped back from the door. “Want some coffee?”

  “No, thanks. What are you doing?”

  “I worked late last night, so I just got up. What about you?”

  “I’ve been packing up my father’s belongings all morning.”

  He couldn’t deny that the sadness he saw in her every time she mentioned her father moved him. “How’s that going?”

  She shrugged. “He had a lot of stuff. Most of it will be sold at auction next month, so I’m putting aside the few things I want and packing up the rest.”

  “Why don’t you pay someone to do that for you?”

  “It doesn’t seem right to have a stranger pawing through his things. I’d feel like I was violating his privacy.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Despite his desire to stay detached, something about her touched him.

  “Do you know what I really want?”

  He had his suspicions but kept his expression vague as he refilled his coffee cup. “What’s that?”

  “I want to get out of here for a few hours. What do you say I show you around Sydney? You haven’t been outside since you got here.”

  “I’m here to work not play tourist.”

  Her face sagged with disappointment.

  “Oh, all right.” He sounded more aggravated than he felt. “Let me grab a shower, and I’ll come get you so you can show me Sydney.”

  Glee replaced disappointment as she clapped her hands. “Goodie,” she said on her way to the door.

  Smitty shook his head with amusement at her retreating back. He was not going to get sucked in by her too-adorable-for-words act. He had learned his lesson. Never again.

  They began their tour in Sydney Harbour where she took him for an up-close view of the Harbour Bridge and Opera House. “Do you mind if we go to the zoo?” she asked as they strolled along the waterfront wearing jeans and sweaters.

  “Whatever you want,” he said, enjoying the fresh air and her company. “You’re the tour guide.”

  They spent two hours wandering through Taronga Zoo where they saw red kangaroos, wombats, and the orangutan rainforest. “Oh, look at them!” Marjorie giggled at the faces the orangutans were making.

  Smitty smiled at her childlike pleasure. “What about the koalas? I
can’t be in Australia and not see a koala.”

  “Right this way.”

  “You must’ve spent a lot of time here. You know this place really well.”

  “I used to come with my mother all the time. She loved the zoo.”

  Smitty thought of his own mother. She had certainly never taken him to a zoo or anywhere else for that matter.

  “What are you thinking about?” Marjorie asked.

  “Nothing special.”

  “You get this look about you every now and then that makes me think you have all kinds of deep, dark secrets.”

  “Maybe I do.” He could tell she was showing restraint by not pursuing it further.

  “I’ve always thought if you had only one day in Sydney, the thing you’d have to do is take the ferry to Manly.”

  Smitty hurt when he recalled his last ferry ride.

  “There it is again.” She glanced up at him. “More secrets.”

  Unnerved by her ability to read him so well, he glanced down at her. “What’s the deal with this Manly place?”

  “I’ve heard it said that Manly is ‘seven miles from Sydney and a thousand miles from care.’”

  “Hmm, a thousand miles from care.” That might just be far enough. “How do we get there?”

  They spent the rest of the day in Manly, wandering through the Corso—an outdoor pedestrian mall—before heading out to the far end of Manly Cove to visit Oceanworld with its underwater tunnel view of sharks and stingrays. As the sun began to set, they had a beer in a beachfront bar and then bought fish and chips to eat on the beach.

  “This was a great day,” Smitty said, reclining on the sand after they had eaten. “Thanks for talking me into it.”

  “Thank you for coming. I couldn’t stand another minute locked up in that glass tower.” She shivered and burrowed further into her white wool fisherman’s sweater.

  Against his better judgment, he reached for her.

  Startled, she took his outstretched hand and scooted over to take shelter with her back against him.

  Tentatively, he rested his hand on her hip. “Better?”

  “Much.”

  As they watched the sunset in silence, Smitty was amazed to realize he hadn’t thought of Ted, Caroline, or the mess he had left behind at home in hours. He glanced down at Marjorie and was grateful to her for getting his mind off his troubles, even temporarily.

  They had snuggled together on the sand for at least half an hour when Marjorie put her hand on top of his.

  Smitty told himself to get his hand out of there but couldn’t quite work up the energy to make it happen. So he couldn’t very well protest when she laced her fingers through his.

  “Your hand is so warm, John.”

  “You know, you’re the only one who calls me that—you and everyone here.”

  She looked up at him, but kept her firm hold on his hand. “What does everyone else call you?”

  “Smitty.”

  “Smitty,” she said, trying it on for size. “I like John better.”

  “I’m starting to think I do, too.”

  “Smitty’s a boy’s name. John’s a man’s name. It’s a strong name.”

  “I’ve always thought it was kind of boring.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s not. Not like Marjorie.” She made a face. “It was my grandmother’s name, and it’s better suited to an old lady.”

  “Do you like Margo better?”

  “Uh huh. That’s what my friends call me. You could call me that if you wanted to.”

  He could see she was offering more than friendship with the nickname and didn’t want to encourage her. “We should get going back.”

  She kept her eyes trained on him for a long moment before she said, “Okay.”

  He helped her up, and they brushed the sand off their clothes, collected the trash from their picnic, and walked to the ferry. On the short ride back to Sydney, they stood together at the rail and watched the city lights come into view.

  After they disembarked at the Circular Quay, they walked slowly back to the Jergenson building. Their hands bumped together, and Marjorie linked her index finger around his. As her signals became less subtle, his reaction to her confused him. She was so warm and easy to be with that remaining aloof from her was almost impossible.

  They rode the elevator to the sixteenth floor, and Smitty was almost sorry to see their day come to an end. He hadn’t realized how much he had needed the diversion, and the idea of being alone again with his own thoughts was unappealing after the relaxing day he had spent with her. “Do you want to come in for a drink?”

  He could tell he had surprised her.

  “That would be nice.”

  In his apartment, he opened a bottle of the wine he knew she liked and poured them each a glass. He handed one of them to her and raised his glass. “Cheers.”

  “To new friends.”

  He nodded and touched his glass to hers.

  She kept her eyes trained on him while she sipped her wine.

  “Marjorie . . .”

  “I thought you were going to give Margo a try.” Her teasing smile lit up her face.

  “Margo,” he said, trying to remain focused on what he needed to say to her. “You’re a nice girl, a beautiful woman. You don’t want to get mixed up with the likes of me.”

  “The likes of you?” she asked with a perplexed frown. “What does that mean?”

  “You don’t know me, and if you did you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”

  “Why in the world would you say that? I’ve spent long hours with you over the last few days, and all I’ve seen is a kind, generous man with a big heart and a sharp mind.”

  Smitty shook his head with scorn. “You don’t know the half of it. And believe me, if you did, you’d run for your life.”

  She didn’t let him look away from her and never wavered when she said, “Try me.”

  “You’re mixing me up with the guy who’s going to solve all your problems by buying your business.”

  Her eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t treat me like a child, John. I’m fully capable of understanding the difference. You’re just looking for a way around telling me why it is you think you’re so unworthy of me.” She put down her glass. “Thank you for a lovely day.”

  She had reached the door when he said, “Fine. You want to know who I am, I’ll tell you. I’m a guy who never knew who his father was because his mother slept with so many men she had no idea which one fathered me. She forgot to feed me most nights because she was too busy banging men for money so she could buy her next fix.”

  Marjorie kept her back to him, but the stoop of her shoulders told him his words were having the desired effect.

  “I haven’t seen her since I left for college on a scholarship I would’ve sold my soul to the devil for, just so I could get away from her. My wife left me when I finally told her my sordid story three years after we were married. Oh, and just before I came here, my best friend of nearly twenty years made off with my girlfriend. I’m a multi-millionaire who has every imaginable possession, but I’ve got nothing that really matters. Is there anything else you want to know?”

  Her face stained with tears, she turned, crossed the room, and launched herself into his arms.

  Smitty took a step to keep from tumbling backward and closed his arms around her.

  She rained kissed over his face and then found his lips.

  As he realized she knew everything there was to know about him, all his dirty secrets, and didn’t seem to care, he felt something inside him shift to accommodate the possibility that she might be the answer to every question. And then he kissed her as if there were no tomorrow, only right now.

  She clung to him, and when he would have withdrawn from her, she didn’t let him.

  The phone rang, but they ignored it as he lowered her to the sofa. They were still there fifteen minutes later when the phone rang again. She whimpered when he pulled back from her.

 
“Let me get that,” he said with a light kiss. “Only a few people have this number, so it might be important.”

  She released him, and he got up to answer the phone.

  “Smitty?”

  His lips tingled from Marjorie’s passionate kisses. “Hey, Parker, how are you?”

  “Man, I’m so sorry to do this to you, but Lillian’s had a heart attack. It’s not looking good.”

  “Oh, no,” Smitty gasped. “No.”

  “I know. It’s awful. She’s asking for you, buddy, and she told Duff to tell you she’ll wait for you. He asked me to call you. Can you come?”

  “I’ll be on the first flight I can get.”

  “She’s in the ICU at Mass General.”

  Smitty’s eyes burned with tears. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Tell her I’m coming, Parker.”

  “Hurry.”

  Smitty hung up and a sob rattled through his big body.

  Marjorie came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. “What is it, John? What’s wrong?”

  “The woman who’s been like a grandmother to me is dying.” His voice caught. “I need to go home.”

  “Go pack. I’ll call for a flight.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Thank you. I need to go to Boston.”

  She reached up to hug him and then sent him along to pack.

  Twenty minutes later, she drove him to Sydney Airport for a twenty-six-hour trip that would somehow get him to Boston on Sunday morning. He would have to figure out how that would work when he was thinking clearly again.

  “You have your passport?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Will you be all right?”

  “I just hope I get there in time.” He wiped new tears from his face. “We were dancing at her anniversary party just a week ago. I can’t believe how much has happened since then.”

  Marjorie reached for his hand. “I’m sorry.”

  Grateful for the comfort, he held her hand until they reached the airport.

  She pulled up to the curb at the international terminal and got out to help him with his bag.

  He embraced her in a tight hug.

  “Call me when you can?”