Authors: Julie Momyer
S
he’d been trained to fake it, to let people see only what she wanted them to see, but today her façade had slipped. Today it was personal.
Jaida slid her bag from her shoulder and left it on the floor in the hall. She followed Carina inside her hotel room, gently closing the door behind her. Carina turned when the latch clicked, a look of surprise on her face.
“Did you need something?” she asked.
“How about an explanation, retribution, a little remorse. Maybe all three?” Jaida’s fists clenched. “How
dare
you do that to me?”
Carina sighed and dropped her head back, “Oh, please, can’t we act like an adult, Jaida? You’re overreacting.”
“Don’t patronize me. And for the record, I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“Well pardon me for thinking you might want to be more than a fling to some man, but now that I think about it, it’s the
other way around isn’t it? You’re the one who gets what you want then bails out of the relationship.”
Carina sank the venom deep and Jaida drew back. Is that how she saw her? She opened her mouth, a retort on her tongue then changed her mind and reached for the door, but she wasn’t quick enough to dodge Carina’s parting shot.
“You have no appreciation for a good man. Kevin isn’t like those losers I’ve seen you with. He’s an auditor for the county—a fiscal genius—and he’s gone out of his way to help you manage your money. You, the woman who’s too busy to pay her bills.”
Jaida stood there and took the verbal bashing then quietly let herself out. Shaken, she drew in a breath and reached for the strap of her bag. Confusion washed over her anew. What just happened in there?
She was the one who’d been wronged, but Carina turned it around and went at her again taking pot shots. Numb, she walked the carpeted corridor, scanning the doors for room 212.
Original landscapes of the island set in matching frames were displayed on the saffron walls. Her weekend might be ruined, but at least Lance booked a five-star hotel.
He reserved three rooms. How he’d even found one room during tourist season was beyond her. This time of year the island’s hotels were booked solid weeks in advance. One room was a fluke, but three rooms qualified as a supernatural miracle. He must have connections.
“Jaida, hold up.” Auggie called to her from behind, but instead of turning she glanced at the number on the door to her right and kept walking.
“I’m sorry.” His voice carried down the hall followed by the soft thudding sound of rapid footsteps coming closer. They were right behind her, then beside her. He’d made his apology, what did he want from her?
“I shouldn’t have meddled.” His arm brushed against hers and he reached for her hand, squeezing her fingers.
“No, you shouldn’t have,” she said.
“But in my defense I was only thinking of you.”
She stopped then and looked up at him. “Of
me
? Really? How so?” This she had to hear.
“Cut it out.”
“Cut what out? I’m only asking for some clarification since the answer isn’t obvious to me.”
“You’re a handful to look after. All right? It wouldn’t hurt you to find a nice guy and settle down.”
A lump swelled in her throat and tears pricked her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. “What makes you think you’re responsible for me?” she asked. “And who do you think you are, trying to pawn me off like that? What am I? Some kind of community project?”
“I didn’t mean any…”
She waved her hand, cutting him off. “Just go away.”
“It was Carina’s idea.”
“Did you really just say that? That is so first grade, Auggie. Can’t you take a little responsibility?”
“I just said I was sorry. Isn’t that taking responsibility?”
Any hope she had of redeeming the weekend was shot. A pre-paid room at a five-star hotel no longer seemed like a fair trade.
He gripped a strand of her hair and gave it a playful tug. “Are we good?”
Unbelievable.
“No, we’re not.” she said, watching the hope that lit his dark eyes fade. “Not yet.”
Jaida walked away, lugging her bag down the hall, and leaving him to think about what he had done.
*
The hotel’s internet service was down, and her hope of tracking the name of Vickery’s assistant was once again pushed to Monday. Jaida picked up her camera from the desktop and sat on the bed with it. She pressed the “On” button, and the blackened LCD screen lit up.
They did some hiking earlier then spent the afternoon diving at Ship Rock. Even with the temperature at 90 degrees, the chill of the ocean was still buried under her skin. She slipped her feet under the rose-colored bedspread to warm them and settled into the mattress, clicking through the pictures.
She’d snapped a few candid shots of Auggie and Lance, but it was the blue-banded gobies, anemones, sea fans, and purple hydrocoral that took up most of the space on the camera’s memory.
It was just the three of them. After Carina’s blistering censure, the woman made a beeline for the nearest spa, and she hadn’t seen Kevin since they stepped off the shore boat.
She turned off the camera and dropped it on the bed. Maybe Kevin had gone back to the mainland. Not likely, but she could always hope.
Why was Carina suddenly so interested in her personal life? And what was so special about Kevin that she chose him to foist on her?
Jaida slid the screen door open and stepped out onto the terrace. She leaned against the iron rail that wrapped the perimeter and wedged her foot between the bars, turning her face into the breeze. All around the grounds palm leaves rustled, and somewhere down below, meat was grilling. The smoky scent left her mouth watering.
The view from up here was perfect for people watching. Men, women, couples, and families; she observed them all from her lofty perch. It was the way she imagined God, sitting back on His colossal throne in the heavens, scrutinizing their every deed. What did He see when He looked down at her?
She sent a fleeting glance into the blue sky. “What do you think of me, God?” There was a thread of mockery in her inquiry, and on its heels she shivered with fear. Would the answer be sent in a bolt of lightning? She certainly deserved it.
On the other side of the street, a curly haired child in a yellow dress laughed and ran after her older sister. A graying man dressed in golf gear zipped by in a golf cart, his bag of clubs on the seat behind him. All of them were entertaining to watch, but it was the man and woman in the right corner of the quad area below that stole her breath and won her undivided attention.
They stood close, intimately close. The man lifted a gentle hand and stroked the woman’s cheek. The way he looked into her face—into her soul—left Jaida’s heart aching with a familiar longing. His fingers traced her cheekbone to her hairline, tucking the auburn hair behind her ear. Sunlight played on the gold band of his fourth finger, left hand. Married.
He leaned even closer and whispered in her ear. She giggled and gave a playful push against his chest. Their laughter carried up to her easily enough, but the whispered endearments, the lighthearted banter were lost to her.
Jaida pushed away from the rail. She’d seen enough. He was married, but who was to say that the woman was his wife? He could be wed to another and that painted the scene playing out before her in an entirely different light.
He was no better than she was. She went inside and shut the sliding glass door behind her. She would not pine for what wasn’t meant to be.
The karaoke bar was indistinct; a small white stucco structure with a blue and white striped awning that shaded the entrance. Lance held the heavy wooden door open letting the live karaoke music out and Jaida in.
Auggie had already abandoned them for a dark-haired beauty in the corner, but the rest of their crew straggled in behind her with all the enthusiasm of death-row inmates being led to their execution.
Carina immediately excused herself and headed for the ladies room. She had been pleasant enough over dinner, but neither one of them broached the subject of her earlier outburst. It couldn’t be done without an argument. Besides, what was there to say?
Lighted strings of colored bulbs decorated the beamed ceiling, but the rest of the décor was a nautical motif. Lance grabbed her hand and wove a path through the crush of customers. Music, laughter, and conversation filled her ears. They slid into the only booth available, and a server took their drink order.
Up front, a shapely brunette stood on the portable stage and clung to the microphone, belting out a rock tune with a country twang.
Kevin slid into the seat across from them. He shook the hair from his eyes and leaned back against the green vinyl seat. “Whatever happened with those charges against you?” he asked.
Why was he bringing that up? It was so off the cuff and it happened over six months ago. “They weren’t charges.” Not legally anyway. “William Gale made an accusation and it was investigated.” That was it. She’d been cleared.
Lance nodded his head. “Yeah, I remember hearing about that. What was it? Eight million dollars he said you took?”
“Eight and a half.”
He whistled through his teeth. “What I could do with eight and a half mil. Some men have all the luck.”
Kevin glowered at Lance then settled a sympathetic gaze on Jaida. “I was afraid you’d get fired. I’m glad nothing came of it.”
Jaida appreciated his kindness and nodded a silent thank-you. It had been a difficult time for her.
“So why is it you were afraid Jaida would get fired?” Back from her detour, Carina slipped in the booth beside Kevin. He took the purse she handed him and tucked it in the corner.
“Gale’s money,” Jaida said abruptly. Could they just move on to another subject? Why did they want to rehash the details?
“Oh, that.” Carina rolled her gray eyes. “You know I never understood why he blamed you. If the bank account number had been sent through Baseel like he said, what made him think you were the one who took it?”
All three of them turned their eyes on her, and she shifted under their hawk-like stares. Was this what it was like to be on the witness stand, cornered like prey by a prosecutor?
This felt less like a discussion and more like an inquiry. Gale was the one they should be asking. How was she to know his mind? Jaida glanced down at the saltshaker in her hands. When had she picked that up?
She pushed the dispenser aside and told them the story she’d been telling herself. “It was his way of getting me off the case”—And his plan to keep her from learning the name of her mother.
The intro to a ballad played while the next rising karaoke star took to the stage. Jaida craned her neck to see the performance. If she feigned interest in the amateur act, would it put an end to their prying?
The waitress brought their drinks and pulled a handful of straws from her apron, leaving them on the table. Lance passed Jaida her Sprite.
“I ordered you a Coke,” Kevin said, handing Carina the glass. Carina bit the end of the paper from her straw like a seasoned smoker biting the tip of a cigar then blew the casing at Jaida. It shot across the table and fell into her lap.
Carina stuck her straw in the glass and whispered something to Kevin. “We’ll be back,” she said. The two of them rose and disappeared into the crowd.
Jaida frowned at Lance. “Guess it’s just us.”
He yawned then scrubbed his face with his hands. “All right by me. This feels good after that grueling hike,” he said. “Especially after carrying that one hundred-and-twenty-pound weight on my back.”
“One hundred and eighteen pounds,” she corrected. “And it was chivalrous of you to carry me the rest of the way.” She had blisters on her blisters, and they had been scraped raw by the heels of her tennis shoes.
“Chivalrous?” He snorted, mocking her use of the archaic word. His free arm slid behind her coming to rest on the back of the seat. “I’m no boy scout.” His hooded green eyes captured hers telling her things she didn’t want to hear. Hadn’t she made herself clear on the ride over?
Jaida pulled away from him, but she was cornered in the booth. She tried to mask the flush of embarrassment with a half smile. She wasn’t new to this game, to men’s advances, just at pushing them away. She looked around the seating area searching for something, anything to transfer her attention to.
“It’s packed tonight,” she said, catching a whiff of someone’s coconut shrimp. It smelled wonderful, but after dining on roast lamb and herbed red potatoes she had nowhere to put it.
“Guess so.” Lance raised the bottle his fingers were wrapped around and took a swig of his Blue Moon.
She watched his gaze drop to her hand where it rested on the seat. Almost hesitant, he opened and closed his fingers then without an ounce of caution moved his hand from the thigh of his jeans to cover the back of her hand, his fingers expressing a form of confidence when they slid between hers like pieces of a puzzle.