Left Turn at Paradise

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Left Turn at Paradise Page 25

by Kristin Wallace


  “But we didn’t even know each other when you were married.”

  “Doesn’t matter. She’ll make it believable enough that people will buy it. She’ll make your life hell, and then turn her sights on The Paradise.”

  Her sense of foreboding increased, but she couldn’t argue with him. “Okay, but I don’t like it.”

  “I’m sorry.” Grayson raked a hand through his hair, making the ends stand up. “I had no idea she’d turn up here. I didn’t think she cared that much.”

  “I don’t think it has anything to do with caring. It’s about ownership. She can’t stand for someone else to have you.”

  The corners of his mouth lifted, and he leaned closer. “Do I still have you?”

  She pushed him away. “Go take care of your wife.”

  “Ex-wife.”

  She tried to muster a smile, but couldn’t manage even a smirk. “I don’t think she feels like an ex.”

  He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head so he caught the corner of her cheek. He sighed and stepped back. “I’ll call you.”

  A few minutes later he was gone, having hustled Skye out the kitchen door and into Noah’s car.

  “He’ll call soon,” Annaliese said as they watched Grayson drive away with Skye.

  Layla stared at the disappearing vehicle. “Sure he will.”

  She waited all day for word from him. A call to say Skye was gone and wouldn’t be back. But she heard nothing. That night, Layla followed Annaliese to the little bungalow she’d been renting. With Grayson gone, Layla couldn’t go back to his house, and she wasn’t ready to face her family yet. Annaliese’s house seemed like the perfect escape.

  Annaliese made dinner, but Layla barely touched it. After a few stilted attempts at conversation, Annaliese finally left Layla alone with her misery.

  Layla tried to sleep, but ended up tossing and turning. She checked her phone, her missed calls, checked to see that “vibrate” mode wasn’t on.

  Nothing.

  Sometime after midnight, Layla heard loud banging. Startled, she jumped out of bed and ran into the hallway. She met up with Annaliese and they hurried toward the back of the house as the banging started up again.

  “What is that?” Layla asked.

  “Not sure.”

  They reached the living room together. Layla let out a sigh of relief when she saw Grayson standing on the other side of the patio doors.

  “You couldn’t call and warn a girl you’re stopping by?” Annaliese asked as she let him in. “I thought I was going to have to use this,” she said, revealing the bat she’d had tucked into her robe.

  “What if whomever we found had a gun?” Layla asked.

  Annaliese shrugged. “This was all I had on me.” She turned back to Grayson. “I assume you’re not sneaking over to see me?”

  He sent her an apologetic smile. “Sorry if I scared you. I couldn’t chance anyone following me.” His hair stood completely on end, and Layla saw the utter exhaustion on his face.

  Annaliese must have noticed, too, because she stopped taunting him. “I’m headed back to bed,” she said. “You two talk, but be careful with each other.”

  “Careful?” Layla asked.

  “You’re both tired and frustrated,” Annaliese explained. “I just don’t want either of you to say something you’ll regret later.”

  With those parting words, Annaliese disappeared. Layla faced Grayson again. Nothing in his expression reassured her, but she asked the question anyway.

  “Is everything all right?”

  He leaned back against the glass door. “Everything is a mess."

  “Where is Skye?”

  “She’s waiting for me in the car a block away.”

  He said it so casually, as if he’d announced rain was coming. “Why is she doing that?”

  “Because I have to get her out of town, and she won’t go if I don’t leave with her.”

  She heard the words, but nothing could make her comprehend them. “Run that by me again. You’re leaving town with your wife—”

  “Ex-wife,” he said in exasperation.

  “You keep saying that, but as I pointed out, I don’t think Skye understands that distinction.” She crossed her arms. “Why do you have to leave with her?”

  “I’m trying to handle the situation, and I don’t think I can do that here. Not without dragging you even further into this mess. If I can get her away from the glare of the cameras, I’m hoping she’ll see reason. As you said, it’s not me she wants. It’s the attention.”

  “That and keeping me away from you,” Layla said. “This is exactly what she wants. Why are you letting her manipulate you?”

  His lips thinned. “I’m not.”

  She arched a brow. “Really? Seems like it to me. Skye suddenly shows up, and you’re at her beck and call. What happens when she gets you to herself? Do you think she’s going to be satisfied with talking? She wants you, and I don’t think she’s going to take no for an answer.”

  “She’ll have to.”

  “You’d really say no to Skye Malone?”

  “In a second.” He stalked across the room and took her by the arms. “I don’t want her anymore. I haven’t for a long time. Not since I met you.”

  “Then stay here,” she said, fisting his shirt in her hands. “Tell her you’re with me and that she has to go. She can tell the press whatever she wants. As you said, there will be another scandal soon, and these vultures will forget you and I even exist.”

  He stilled.

  “Or can’t you say that?” she asked, searching his face.

  His eyes squeezed shut.

  She released her grip on his shirt and shrugged out of his hold. “Maybe it’s a good thing you’re going. Maybe we both need to sort out our feelings.”

  He opened his eyes, and she saw misery and longing and uncertainty swimming in the gray depths. “Don’t say that. I care about you.”

  “I know you do, but maybe I need more.” She took a few steps back, away from temptation. “I think there’s something happening between us, but you’re killing it before we even find out. Do you know how I felt when you left with her this morning? Skye swept in, kissed you in front of a dozen cameras, and you said nothing. I’ve been followed by paparazzi. They’re digging into my past, making up terrible lies. I’m sure they’ll stumble onto the tale of my mother soon enough. That’ll certainly make a nice movie of the week edition. They won’t even have to make that up.”

  “Layla—”

  “No…” she said, holding out a hand. “Look, I’m having my own personal crisis right now. I might run a theatre, but I can’t handle any more drama. I need someone who can stick. Someone who won’t run at the first sign of trouble.”

  “I’m not using Skye to run away from you,” Grayson insisted. “I have to do this, and then I’ll be back. I promised I would direct your show, and I will.”

  “I wish I believed that,” she said, sadness welling up within her at what might have been.

  Silence filled the room. They stared at each other.

  “I should go,” Grayson said finally. “I don’t trust Skye.”

  “That makes two of us,” she said, fighting not to fling herself at him. She willed him to say something, to tell her he’d changed his mind. To sweep her in his arms and kiss her.

  But he didn’t. Instead, he turned to leave. He paused, with one foot out the door. “I’m coming back.”

  She tried to muster a smile, but failed miserably. Then he disappeared into the darkness.

  Annaliese came in as the door clicked shut.

  Layla continued to watch the empty spot where Grayson had stood. “I wasn’t careful,” she said.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Layla rolled over in bed and stifled a groan. Every inch of her body hurt. Or maybe it was her soul. Everything she’d ever believed in had been shaken to its foundation in the past few days. Her grandmother, Beth, a half-brother she’d never met. Now, Grayson was g
one.

  Tears of self-pity threatened, and she fought them back. She’d cried too much over the last couple days, and she was becoming sick of herself.

  A quick knock came at the door and Annaliese poked her head in. “There’s a very handsome man in the living room looking for you.”

  Layla lifted her head. “Grayson?” she asked with a pathetic hopefulness she would have mocked from anyone else.

  “Not that one,” Annaliese said, her expression of disgust making it clear what she thought of her best friend. “It’s Noah. Says he has orders from your Aunt Grace that he’s to take you to church.”

  “I’m not going—”

  Noah’s voice rang out from the hallway. “She said to drag you there if I had to!”

  “Not today,” Layla yelled back. “I can’t do it.”

  “Beth will be there, and she’s bringing your brother,” Noah said, sounding closer now. “Now, get dressed.”

  Her brother. The little boy who’d finally knocked some sense into Beth and gotten her to straighten out. The boy who’d been the impetus for Beth’s return to Shellwater Key.

  Forty minutes later, she and Noah arrived at the church.

  “I don’t think I can face her,” Layla said, staring at the building. “Any of them.”

  Noah squeezed her hand. “You can do this, Layla,” he said. “Besides, aren’t you curious to see your brother?”

  Layla hated when he was right, because of course she wanted to meet Josh.

  She and Noah slipped in the back, managing to stay off the congregation’s radar. Actually, they barely noticed Layla, because everyone was too focused on the pew where Gran and Aunt Grace sat with a blonde woman and a small boy. The blonde turned her head, and Layla couldn’t contain a gasp as she realized it was Beth. She’d obviously donned a wig for this appearance. With Beth’s current dark curls covered it was almost like looking in a mirror image aged a few decades.

  The choir emerged and took their places, followed by the Reverend Montgomery. He searched the congregation, until his gaze stopped on the pew where Beth sat.

  He smiled and lifted both hands in the air. “Praise the Lord, for he has brought home one of his lost lambs. The Bible says the Lord is like a shepherd, and if one of his sheep is missing he goes in search of it. And does he not rejoice when that precious lamb is found and saved?”

  Layla blinked back sudden tears. She’d never thought of her mother as someone who needed to be saved. She’d spent most of her life viewing her mother as a selfish, unfeeling monster. A woman who’d abandoned her only child. Except Beth had been little more than a child herself, and she’d needed someone all those years ago. Intellectually, Layla knew this, but she couldn’t seem to get past her own hurt and the years of loneliness and doubt. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to forgive.

  The rest of the service passed in a blur. All she could concentrate on was Beth and the small, dark head just visible above the pew. Soon she’d have to come face to face with her family. With Gran and Beth and the little boy. The thought of having her twisted family reunion happen in the main aisle of the church, with everyone watching, sent her nerve endings into overdrive.

  As soon as the minister began the Benediction, Layla leaned toward Noah. “I need you to get everyone and bring them outside.”

  His head jerked around in surprise. “What?”

  “I’m not about to provide today’s entertainment for the entire town,” she said, her voice shaking. “Just please get them.”

  Noah nodded and placed a gentle hand over hers. “Okay. Go wait by my car.”

  The minute the organ kicked in with the recessional, Layla bolted up the side aisle for the exit. She’d almost reached the door when she collided with someone trying to make his way in the opposite direction.

  “Sorry!” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry.” The man’s eyes widened, and his hands gripped her arms. “Beth?” he gasped out.

  Layla broke away and pointed over her shoulder. “She’s back there.”

  She managed to make it outside without flattening anyone else. She darted across the parking lot toward Noah’s truck. Thank goodness the cab was high enough to hide behind. A few minutes later, Layla heard the crunch of footsteps on the pavement. Bracing herself, she straightened. Wary green eyes looked back at her.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Beth said after a long, silent pause.

  “I was under strict orders.”

  All heads swiveled toward Aunt Grace, who merely folded her arms across her chest. “Someone had to make the first move.”

  Layla let out a reluctant chuckle as she hugged her great-aunt. Then she turned to her grandmother. “Hi Gran,” she said, not knowing what to do or how to act. Normally she’d have hugged her grandmother. Now, everything had changed, and she couldn’t make herself reach out.

  Gran’s eyes filled. “Thank you for being here.”

  Layla’s eyes went to the little boy standing near the rear bumper of the truck. A tall, stout woman held his hand.

  “Layla, this is my neighbor and good friend, Deloris Cuthbert,” Beth said. She held out a hand to the boy. “And this is Josh.”

  Josh was small, but sturdy, with a head of dark-brown curls and familiar green eyes. He must look like his father because the eyes seemed to be the only physical trait he shared with Beth. Layla’s gaze swept over the boy, and when she looked up she was startled to see he was doing the same thing.

  He lowered his chin and looked up at her through thick dark lashes. “Mommy says you’re my sister.”

  Layla nodded.

  He took a step closer. “You look like mommy,” his voice reflected a certain awe at this amazing fact. In fact, Josh was probably the first person to ever see her resemblance to Beth as something wonderful.

  “I know.”

  A smile lit up his face. “Cool!” he said, launching his tiny body into Layla’s arms.

  Layla caught him by instinct. However, no instinct could have prepared her for the onslaught of emotions that seemed to travel from his arms straight to her core. She sucked in a breath as her vision blurred. Then he lifted his head and aimed a grin of such adoration up at her that she couldn’t help but respond.

  She ruffled a hand through his curly hair. “Yeah, it is cool.”

  Noise penetrated the haze of confusion. Layla glanced around and realized most of the congregation had made its way out of the church. Eager faces turned in their direction, intent on discovering what might be happening in this corner of the parking lot.

  Layla disentangled herself from Josh’s grip. “I have to go.”

  “Oh, don’t run off yet,” Gran said, reaching for Layla’s hand. “Come have lunch with us.”

  Layla shook her head and backed toward the car door. “I can’t. Not yet.”

  Fighting back tears, Layla hustled into Noah’s truck. A few moments later, Noah climbed in. He waited until they were back on the road before he spoke.

  “Cute kid.”

  “Yeah, he is.”

  “If he was mine, I’d do anything to make sure there’d be someone to take care of him if the worst happened.”

  As she thought about her brother’s sweet smile, Layla knew she would, too.

  Noah glanced across the seat. “It’ll be all right, you know.”

  She shifted toward him. “Really? Because I’m not sure I’ll ever be all right again.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Layla pulled into the parking lot of The Paradise and sat for several minutes. She couldn’t seem to get moving. Another night of no sleep. Another night of wondering what was happening with Grayson and Skye…

  She shut down that train of thought. If Grayson was fool enough to take up with that woman again, Layla was well rid of him.

  Layla had hoped coming to work would serve as a distraction. Except The Paradise made her think about Gran, which reminded Layla of how her grandmother had lied to her. Which naturally dovetai
led to thoughts of her mother and half-brother, the cherished and wanted child.

  Layla finally found the energy to leave the car. As she headed inside she recognized Beth’s car and bit back a curse. She wasn’t ready to deal with her mother, but she couldn’t ignore the issue. Beth obviously wasn’t going anywhere. Didn’t look like she planned on quitting, either.

  Layla sighed and continued toward the door, only to spot an unfamiliar black Lincoln sitting next to Beth’s car. Layla couldn’t imagine who it was, but the way her life was going these days, no doubt she would find some other long-lost relative inside.

  The frigid blast of air was a welcome respite after the heat outside. She didn’t see anyone in the dining room so she headed for her office. As she reached the hallway, she heard angry voices coming from the kitchen. Curious, she changed direction and pushed through the swinging doors.

  “I heard shouting in here,” she said as the doors shut with a soft thwap behind her. She spotted Beth. “Who’s angry at you now?”

  She caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye and turned. A man stood just beyond the service island. He was tall with light brown hair and eyes. He was staring at her with something bordering on reverence. Layla didn’t think she’d ever seen him before, and yet, he seemed familiar. Then she remembered.

  “I saw you at church yesterday,” she said in bemusement. “I almost knocked you over. What are you doing here?”

  The stranger didn’t answer, only continued to stare. Unnerved, Layla took a step back, shivering at the intensity of his regard. “Who are you?” she asked.

  He swallowed. “Colin Landry.”

  Layla’s eyes went wide. Colin Landry? As in… She looked at Beth, who nodded. “Yes, that Colin.”

  Hadn’t she just been laughing to herself about long-lost relatives? A rushing sound swirled around Layla’s head, and for a moment she feared she might pass out. “You’re my—”

  “Yes,” he said.

  Her father. Her father.

  How many times had she imagined him? Wondered what he looked like? Wished she had a daddy to teach her how to ride a bike or change a tire? While other girls had complained about their fathers giving their boyfriends a hard time, Layla had burned to have someone who cared enough to put the fear of God in her dates. Would T.J. have been so bold if she’d had a dad at home who was ready to tear apart anyone who touched his daughter?

 

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