Meet Me in Barefoot Bay

by Roxanne St Claire

  “Backlash?” Lacey asked, holding up a strand of Coco’s hair as she combed through it. “What kind of backlash could there be for doing something so right?”

  “Miles’s fans, for one,” Coco said. “They’re rabid women who would die for him.”

  Zoe snorted. “Then maybe they should move in with him.”

  Coco smiled up at her. “I like you. Have you ever thought about acting?”

  Surprising all of them, Zoe shook her head. “No limelight for me, doll face. But I wouldn’t mind the cash and cars. Close your eyes. I’m going all smoky on the creases.”

  Coco obliged and gave Jocelyn’s fingers a squeeze back. “I’m going to be fine,” she said. “As long as you’re with me and you field the questions about why we did this.”

  “Gladly.”

  “And maybe that’ll help you get some clients back,” Coco added. “I’m really sorry that your business has crashed and burned.”

  Jocelyn shrugged. “I’m not. I’m moving on.”

  Lacey froze mid-comb. “You are?”

  “I’m going to be the spa manager at Casa Blanca.”

  Zoe shrieked.

  Tessa gasped.

  And Lacey dropped the comb and fell to her knees. “Jocelyn! Thank you!”

  “Why are you all surprised?” Coco asked. “She’s got the stud ballplayer who’d do anything for her and great friends who rally. And a kind of quirky but very cute little old father.”

  Jocelyn smiled at her, so eternally grateful that Coco hadn’t given her a fight when she’d explained her decision to forgive Guy. “Exactly,” Jocelyn agreed. “Why are you all shocked?”

  “But I thought…” Tessa put down the paper, frowning. “Will was interviewing for a job in L.A.”

  “He blew it off to stay in Mimosa Key and be the best damn carpenter this island’s ever had.” And the best damn man Jocelyn had ever known.

  “The only job he’s interviewing for is to be your main squeeze,” Coco said. “That man loves your ass.”

  “Ahem,” Tessa said pointedly.

  “Amen,” Lacey replied.

  “I like this girl,” Zoe said with a grin.

  Jocelyn just beamed. “He might get that job.”

  “Great.” Coco laughed. “It’ll be awesome for you to finally let go of that pesky virginity you’ve been carting around for a lifetime.”

  That was met with stunned silence and Jocelyn felt heat creep up her neck.

  Zoe’s hands froze mid-eye-shadow-stroke. “You’re a virgin?”

  Jocelyn swallowed. “Not anymore.”

  “But… with Will… that was your first?”

  She nodded, then looked up to Lacey and Tessa for help, but got nothing except open-mouthed, wide-eyed disbelief.

  “You know I was never with anyone in college,” Jocelyn said.

  “But, we assumed… after… no one?” Zoe shook her head as if the thought just would not find a place in her brain. “At your age?”

  “Zoe, not everyone is the sexual tigress you are.”

  “But not anyone is a virgin at your age.”

  “Well I was,” Jocelyn said.

  Zoe gave Jocelyn a look, then straightened to get back to work on Coco’s face, still unable to process the unbelievable news.

  “So,” Tessa said, tapping her pen on the paper. “You don’t tell your three best friends that you’re a virgin, but you share that with a client.”

  “Coco’s more than a client,” Jocelyn said quickly. “She’s my friend, too. And she is a sister in…” She closed her eyes. She’d have to talk about this now, so she might as well practice with the ones who loved her the most. “Abuse.”

  No one spoke for a few long seconds, but Jocelyn and Coco squeezed each other’s hands, the shared experience always there between them.

  “All right, Ms. Kirkman,” Zoe said, grabbing a hand mirror. “Now you’re ready to face your adoring fans.”

  “Yes, I am.” But she didn’t even look, standing slowly and pulling Jocelyn up with her. “You guys are all awesome and Jocelyn is lucky to have you.”

  “We know,” Tessa said, reaching out to hug Jocelyn. “We love her even if we don’t know her secrets.”

  “You know them all now,” Jocelyn said. “And in a few minutes, so will the rest of the world.”

  “Except the Oldest Living Virgin part.” Zoe grabbed Jocelyn to nudge her onto the toilet seat. “Uh, you need a little makeover, too, Joss. You don’t want the only man you ever slept with to see you like this.”

  Ten minutes later, Coco and Jocelyn walked hand in hand to the front patio of 543 Sea Breeze Drive, the place of so many unhappy, violent moments in the past. The sun had finally slipped out from behind the clouds and the crowd of reporters had grown exponentially.

  A cheer erupted at the sight of Coco, who walked up to a podium hastily erected by a media outlet after she’d requested one for the press conference.

  She glanced nervously at Jocelyn. “Maybe you should, you know, introduce me.”

  “Maybe you should introduce yourself.”

  Coco nodded and headed toward the microphone, the papers Tessa had written fluttering on the stand. She tapped the mike, and that just elicited more of a roar and a cringe from Coco. Jocelyn walked up next to her and took her hand.

  “C’mon, Coco, you can do this. You can do this for every woman just like us.”

  “Hello,” she said into the mike. When the crowd quieted, she leaned closer and said, “I’m here to speak on behalf of every girl who’s ever been hit, every woman who’s ever been beaten, and every wife who’s ever had to lie to get away from violence.”

  Complete silence fell over the crowd and a soft gust of wind picked up one of the papers and floated it away. Coco ignored the loss, looking out to the crowd.

  “I have a message to give to you, and I want you to deliver it to every corner of this earth because abuse has to stop.”

  Behind her, the screen door opened and Guy stepped out on the patio, his face the image of confusion. Instantly Jocelyn stepped away, but Coco kept talking.

  Jocelyn reached him, turned him around, and guided him inside. Will was in the living room, leaning against the brick wall, dividing his attention between Coco live on TV and Jocelyn.

  “He’s not quite understanding what’s going on,” Will said. “I did my best to explain.”

  “It’s just part of the show, Guy,” she said, guiding him to his recliner.

  “I never saw this part of the show.” He slumped into the chair, automatically patting the arm for his remote. “Where’s the gifting part? When do you gift me with something special?”

  “Right now,” she said, kneeling next to him.

  Will walked in and handed her the remote. “It was in the—”

  “Dishwasher, I know.” She smiled up at him. “What do you think we should gift Guy with for all the trouble he’s been through these past few weeks?”

  Will reached for her. “Let’s talk about it.” Wrapping her in his arms, he took a few steps away from Guy. “You’ve forgiven him?”

  She nodded. “Completely. I can’t let the past ruin the present, Will. And I can’t spend whatever time he has left hating him.” The announcement felt so good and right on her lips.

  “And me?”

  “You? I could never hate you. I love—”

  “Wait.” He cupped her face with both hands. “Me first. Jocelyn, I love you. I want to live every day for you, with you, next to you. I trust you, I need you, and you have always been the only one for me. Always.”

  A happiness so bone-deep she could feel it down to her toes washed over her. “I love you too, Will.”

  “Am I on your list of everything now?”

  The list that now included family and trust and forever love? “You’re right at the top, where I intend to keep you for the rest of our—”

  “Excuse me!” Guy called. “My gift, Missy?”

  “—lives,” Will finished for her, guidin
g her back to the recliner. “How’s this, buddy? We’re getting married.”

  Jocelyn sucked in a soft breath at the announcement, but Guy sat bolt upright. “Really?”

  “Yup,” Will continued. “We’re going to live right next door and keep an eye on you.” He threw Jocelyn a questioning glance, and she nodded happily. “And we’re having kids.”

  Guy tried—and failed—to hide his smile. “Kids running around here calling me crazy?”

  “No.” Jocelyn put one hand on Guy’s arm and the other on Will’s strong shoulder, gratitude for the gift of forgiveness and love bursting in her chest. “They won’t call you crazy. They’ll call you… Grandpa.”

  Epilogue

  Seven Months Later

  Casa Blanca’s parking lot was no longer a gravelly home to a construction trailer; it was a smooth asphalt expanse currently filled with shiny Mercedes, Beamers, and Jaguars. The new surface was so smooth that Jocelyn’s high heels made a satisfying tap as Will opened the door of her Lexus and she climbed out.

  As her silky skirt slipped way up her thigh, Will let out a low whistle of appreciation.

  “Zoe picked this outfit,” she said.

  “A true believer in form over function.” Will loosened the knot around his neck, taking his eyes off her only when the whine of a sports-car engine stole his attention. “What do you call this thing again?”

  “A tie?”

  Laughing, he took her hand as she stepped out. “I meant this shindig we’re all dressed up for.”

  “A soft opening.”

  “I like the sound of that.” He pulled her closer, inhaling deeply as if he couldn’t get enough of her scent. “You know, Artemesia is the only villa not finished yet. I left the back door unlocked. Let’s sneak up there and find your soft opening.”

  She added a little pressure to his embrace, their fit against each other so natural now they didn’t even have to think about it. “Later, I promise. But now it’s time to entertain the moneyed set from Naples, here for the VIP preview of the resort.”

  She turned when a candy-apple-red Porsche swung into a space a few feet away.

  “Arriving in true style,” he noted.

  “Don’t knock it. These ladies pay top dollar for luxury, and Lacey and I plan to deliver.”

  “Lacey plans to deliver any minute now, from the looks of her.”

  She gathered her wrap and bag, tucking her hand into his arm. “As of an hour ago, she was pretty sure she’d be here, but she’s been having contractions all day. I have no such excuse and, as the spa manager, I need to make friends and charm potential customers.”

  A man climbed out of the Porsche looking like he’d been plucked from central casting for the event. Black hair with maybe a whisper of silver threads, jaw-droppingly handsome, dressed in Armani, a phone pressed to his ear.

  “If she’s not responding to the sandostatin, then we need to closely monitor her kidney function overnight,” the man said with gruff authority as he walked around the car to the other side, reaching for the car door. Jocelyn thought there was something vaguely familiar about him. “Administer it with high-dose conditioning protocols for the next three hours and keep the patient sedated. If anything changes, call me.”

  He opened the passenger-side door and an exquisite brunette dressed in a strapless white dress climbed out, her expression as icy as the diamonds around her neck. “You said your partners were handling the calls tonight.”

  “This case has extenuating—”

  “I don’t care. You have to fake this for one more night.”

  Will put his arm around Jocelyn and guided her past the awkward exchange, keeping her tucked close to his side.

  “Promise me we’ll never fight,” he said.

  “Never? I make no such promises. But promise me you’ll never drive a screaming-red Porsche.”

  “Never? I make no such promises.”

  They laughed, looking at each other and slowing just enough to share a kiss.

  “C’mon, Joss,” he murmured. “Let’s blow this thing off and go hit fungoes at the field.” He dragged his hand down her waist and over her backside. “I have a key to the clubhouse now.”

  “Ah, the powers of a volunteer high school coach,” she teased. “Who needs a hundred-thousand-dollar sports car when you can do me against the varsity lockers?”

  He grinned. “I love the way you think.”

  “Behave, Will Palmer,” she warned as two uniformed porters welcomed them and opened the doors to Casa Blanca’s creamy, dreamy lobby.

  Will kept his hand on Jocelyn’s back as they scanned the crowd. There were mainly unfamiliar faces but a few were friendly, like Gloria Vail, who’d agreed to work in the salon against her aunt’s wishes. The guests were busy checking out the elegant North African mosaic work along the registration desk and reading informational pamphlets about Casa Blanca’s all-organic spa, which Lacey and Jocelyn had decided to call Eucalyptus.

  The staff and subcontractors chatted in small groups wearing expressions of pure satisfaction. They’d done it. They’d made the deadline. Lacey’s delivery date had become the de facto “end date” for the last six months, and the ever-growing crew of construction, hotel, restaurant, and spa staff had worked nonstop to get the resort ready before its owners brought baby boy Walker into the world.

  “Where is everybody?” Jocelyn asked Will.

  “And by everybody you mean Lacey, Tessa, and Zoe.”

  “And Clay.” She glanced around, but none of the people she most wanted to see were there.

  Suddenly the henna-glass spa doors shot open and Ashley burst out, looking more than a little panicked. When she spotted Jocelyn, Lacey’s daughter looked like she’d cry with relief.

  “Aunt Jocelyn! We have a problem.” She grabbed Jocelyn’s arm and pulled her close, her eyes moist with tears. “My mom’s in labor. It’s happening so fast. Clay took her into the spa and we called nine-one-one and they’re headed over the causeway, but, oh my God, I think she’s gonna have the baby any second!”

  Will and Jocelyn looked at each other, a silent communication instantly exchanged.

  “I’ll get that doctor,” Will said. “Go be with Lacey.”

  Will rushed off and Jocelyn wrapped an arm around a very shaken Ashley. “Don’t worry. She’s going to be fine.”

  “I don’t know. She’s in so much pain.”

  “She’s having a baby, Ash. There’s pain.” They hustled through the doors, running as fast as feasible on the heels. Jocelyn barely noticed the Marrakesh silver mirror she’d hung that afternoon or the Moroccan berber rugs they’d just imported for the opening.

  Eucalyptus was an exotic, inviting, luxurious spa, but not the ideal place for a baby to be born.

  Jocelyn took a deep breath, fighting the old urge to control everything. She sure as heck couldn’t control this.

  Ashley pushed open the massage-room door, where the lights were as low as they would be for a client but the woman on the table was anything but relaxed. Tessa and Zoe’s backs blocked her view of Lacey, but Jocelyn heard the long, low, harrowing cry of her friend’s agony.

  Ashley froze, then put her hand to her mouth. “Mom!”

  “Shhh. Ash. Relax.” Jocelyn came around the table to stand next to Clay, who looked as pale as his stepdaughter. He held Lacey’s hand, and from the looks of it she was squeezing the living hell out of his fingers. Lacey’s beautiful periwinkle silk dress was soaked with sweat, and something else. Her shoes were off, her legs up, her hair a wild coppery gold mess.

  “There’s a doctor coming,” Jocelyn said, taking Clay’s other hand. “He’ll be in here in one second.”

  “He better hurry the hell up.” Lacey ground out the words and slammed her other hand on the massage table, her distended belly heaving with each gasp. “Because I have to push. I have to push now!”

  “Don’t do that, Lacey,” Zoe said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because in the movies t
hey never want you to do that.”

  “I can’t… help…”

  The door shot open and the man from the parking lot barreled into the room, instantly taking over the small space with an aura of calm, commanding control.

  “Clear the table,” he ordered.

  Everyone backed away, except Zoe, who stood stone still, ghost white, and speechless.

  The doctor stood at the bottom of the makeshift bed and fired questions at Clay. How long, how many, how often, how bad.

  Clay answered as Tessa put an arm around Ashley. “Let’s get you out of here, hon.”

  “No, my mom needs me.”

  Her mom let out a howl of pain.

  “Your mom needs you to leave,” Tessa ordered with more force, ushering Ashley to the door.

  “Can you deliver a baby?” Jocelyn asked the doctor, who was already getting into position to do just that.

  “I went to medical school,” he said dismissively. “Get me gloves and a sterilized pair of scissors.” He put his hands on Lacey’s knees while she endured the next contraction. “And towels.”

  “Help me get that,” Jocelyn said to Zoe, relieved that the doctor seemed so competent.

  But Zoe remained rooted in her spot, still staring at the man.

  “C’mon, Zoe,” Jocelyn urged.

  At her name the doctor looked up from his patient, seeing Zoe for the first time. His eyes widened exactly like hers did and, in that second, Jocelyn knew where she’d seen him before.

  Oliver. The doctor who’d had Zoe dodging for cover all those months ago. The one whose practice they’d passed in Naples.

  “Zoe?” he asked, obviously as stunned as she. “What are you doing here?”

  Lacey grunted and annihilated Clay’s hand. “For the love of God, I have to push!”

  Will appeared with the gloves and scissors, thankfully more focused than Jocelyn was. Jocelyn turned and opened a cabinet, yanking out a stack of fresh towels.

  “You can leave now,” the doctor said as he pulled on the latex gloves. “I only need the baby’s father.”

  Will gathered both of the women and led them out, having to nudge Zoe a little harder than Jocelyn. In the small vestibule designed for clients to meditate before and after their massages, Tessa stood with both arms around Ashley.