Barefoot Bay: Hold On To Forever (Kindle Worlds Novella) (6 page)

“No one’s sleeping with anyone here.”

“You’re such a kill joy.”

Maybe. But Aubrey was right. If she didn’t secure the Martinez and Martinez account, they were dead, which meant that besides the demise of her father’s firm, she’d have no way to repay Ellen and Luis for Nicki’s wedding.

* * *

The next day Jack picked up the phone and dialed Marcy, his assistant at the Miami office. “Did you get the letter I sent you?”

She must have been wearing her ear piece because he could hear her moving around the office. The background buzzed with the sounds of a dozen busy paralegals mingled with the constant ringing of the phone. Martinez and Martinez was like a well-oiled machine that practically ran on its own, thanks to him. Every ship needed its captain, and in this case, he was it.

“You mean the one you sent at seven a.m. about the landlord dispute?” Marcy asked. “Already typed and mailed for next day delivery. I had one of the associates sign it.”

He didn’t ask what she’d been doing at the office at seven in the morning, a whole two hours before the place even opened. As his assistant, she was expected to keep up with his workload. “Good job.”

“I couldn’t find a file on the client, so I wasn’t sure what to do about the billing,” Marcy said. He could hear the curiosity in her voice.

“I’ve already taken care of that. Did you file the papers on the Winston case?”

“Done.”

“Great. Oh, and, Marcy, one more thing. We need to schedule an ad presentation for the partners. Something for late next week.”

“I thought we just had one of those a few months ago. Are we looking to change agencies?”

“Not completely, but I’m thinking of taking on another firm to do some additional work.”

“Whatever you say, boss. How’s the wedding festivities? Are you having a good time?”

A good time
? No one else at the firm would have thought to ask him that. But Marcy had been with him since day one. She was in her early fifties and the motherly type. Always asking him if he’d taken his vitamins and slept enough.

“Actually, yeah, I am,” he said, surprised to admit it.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

He wondered what she really thought about that letter, and what she would think if she knew that he planned to leave the firm one day. It wasn’t for at least seven more years, but still…

“Marcy, there’s no need to get to the office so early. Nine o’clock will do just fine.”

There was an enough of a pause on her end that he almost thought to ask if she was still there. “All right,” she finally said. “Anything else you need?”

“No, that’s it.”

“It was nice of you to write that letter,” she said.

Nice? No one at Martinez and Martinez had ever called him nice. Polite. Efficient. Business-like. Yes. He was no stranger to closing seven figure deals. Big cases that he and his team sometimes worked up to a couple of years on, but this one simple transaction for Beth Henderson made him feel better about himself than he’d felt in a long time.

* * *

The Barefoot Bay Brides offices were located in the resort’s lobby. Felicity had wanted this appointment to be just her and Nicki, but Ellen and Abuela had tagged along and it was impossible to say no to them. Especially to Abuela, who seemed hell bent on sticking her two cents worth wherever she went. They were meeting with two of the planners, Ari McBain and Willow Hershey to go over the final details for Saturday’s event.

“Everything looks beautiful,” Felicity said, glancing at a sketch that Ari had provided her. Ari was in charge of the staging, flowers, and the overall look of the wedding site, while Willow was going to talk to them about the food and beverages. Although Nicki and Mitch had already made their selections, both Ari and Willow seemed happy to go over the details again for Felicity’s sake.

The ceremony would take place outside on the sand under a canopy of fresh flowers with music provided by a three-piece orchestra. Afterward, the fifty invited guests would dine in a private banquet room where Chef Ian and his crew from Junonia would hand-prepare an exquisite dinner of filet mignons and lobster tails. The liquor was top of the line and there was even a live band coming in from Miami that specialized in both modern and Latin music. Everything was perfect. And out of this world expensive.

“I especially love the flower selection,” Ellen said. “You can never have too many flowers at a wedding.”

“I agree,” said Ari. “There’s nothing like the scent of fresh flowers mingling with the gulf breeze.”

“Too bad we couldn’t get Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine to play for the reception,” Abuela said. “I just love that song of theirs…how does it go? C’mon shake your body, baby, do that conga…” Abuela stood and began shimming. “Or maybe we could get that Pitbull? I think he is cute. Even though he has no hair.” Everyone laughed, even Felicity, who was still reeling by the final cost of everything. Thank God Abuela was joking. At least, she hoped she was joking. What on earth would Pitbull charge to do a private wedding reception?

Willow winked at her fellow wedding planner. “I think this is going to be one wedding to remember, Ari.”

“I think you’re right,” Ari said, still laughing at Abuela’s outrageous antics.

Willow stood from behind her desk. “So if everything looks good to you ladies, I suggest you all head to the spa for your day of beauty.”

“Manis and pedis!” Abuela said, “Here we come!”

Felicity went along for the manicures and pedicures, but she was skipping the massage and this afternoon’s barbeque. Time was critical here. If she was going to get the Martinez and Martinez account fair and square she was going to have to come up with a spectacular presentation. She tried to work in the villa, but sometime around noon, Aunt Cindy, her father’s sister, and her two daughters, Molly and Kate arrived.

Felicity gave her aunt and cousins a quick tour around the resort and left them basking in the spa with the rest of the women. She took her sketchpad and her beach bag, and went to the pool. If she had to work, she might as well enjoy some sun while she was at it. She found an empty lounge chair in the corner, away from the rest of the sunbathers, set up her work space, slathered herself in sunscreen, and began brainstorming.

* * *

This morning was spa day, followed by a beach barbeque in the afternoon. After spotting Mitch in town yesterday at the Sunshine Emporium, Mitch and Nicki had gone on the snorkeling trip, while he’d stayed back at the shop to look over Beth’s lease. He definitely still needed a one-on-one with his baby brother. Spa activities weren’t his thing, but some beach time didn’t sound bad. He could kill two birds with one stone. Talk to his brother, and spend more time with Felicity.

There he was, thinking about her again. More than just thinking about her, really. It was almost like he was becoming obsessed. Last night after another family dinner, the four of them, Mitch and Nicki and he and Felicity had gone back to their villa and played Cards Against Humanity. Within just a few rounds he’d been able to predict with almost one hundred percent certainty which cards had belonged to Nicki or Mitch. But not Felicity. She continued to surprise him with the simplest things. One card might be raunchy, and the next round, she’d toss out a completely logical answer to the question. He’d been so engrossed in her company that he’d forgotten to talk to Mitch.

After everyone left for the spa, he used the quiet time to work on a case, then headed down to the beach. Slowly, family and friends from Miami were beginning to trickle in for the wedding. His Uncle Pete and Aunt Annie were here, along with the cousins from his mom’s side. Some of Nicki and Mitch’s college friends had arrived now too. Staff from the resort were grilling hamburgers and a bartender had set up a daiquiri bar.

He scanned the area looking for Felicity, but she was nowhere in sight.

“That’s a really nice thing you did yesterday,” Nicki said, handing him a frozen lime daiquiri.

He took a sip of the fruity drink. Not his usual style, but it felt good in the early afternoon sweltering heat. “Beth is a nice lady. I’d hate to see her lose her shop.”

Nicki nodded solemnly. “She is a nice lady. I’m glad you saw that.”

He tried to act casual. “Where’s your sister?”

“She’s on lock down in the villa, working on your account. She’s totally going to nail it too.”

“Good for her.” Well, shit. Today’s beach barbeque suddenly seemed to go flat. He spotted Mitch by himself heading toward the barbeque pit. This was the perfect time for that long overdue brother-to-brother talk. But something made him put his drink down and walk away from the beach.

Chapter Six

Felicity had no illusions about her ability to run a PR firm. Aubrey was right. She sucked at selling and was even worse at project management, but when it came to the creative part of the job, she was totally in her element. Give her a laptop and a sketch pad and she could come up with ideas all day long. Not all of them were brilliant, of course, but she could usually design something the client liked.

Aubrey had emailed her all the information she could find on Martinez and Martinez. The firm used every kind of available media in their current campaign, but it was the billboards and TV spots that were most effective in terms of return on investment.

In Felicity’s mind, the TV ads were even worse than the billboards. Basically, it all came down to that horrible tagline,
Watching out for The Little Man
. The problem was that the tagline was so entrenched with the firm’s image that to change it now would be confusing to the public. Maybe she could come up with something similar enough that the brand would still be familiar, but different enough that it would sharpen their image.

“What are you doing?”

She dropped her sketchpad and looked up to see Jack staring down at her through a pair of sunglasses. She’d been so engrossed writing down and scratching through ideas that she hadn’t heard him sneak up.

She picked her sketchpad back up and tried not to stare at him. He had on a pair of board shorts and flip flops and nothing else, which was normal pool attire, but dear God, he wasn’t just some normal person. Normal people didn’t have broad shoulders that stretched out forever and six pack abs. How did he have time to get those abs anyway? Wasn’t he some kind of workaholic?

“I’m working on your ad campaign.”

“Can I see?”

“No.”

She hoped her simple one-word answer would discourage him and he’d go away, but instead he plopped himself down on the empty lounge chair next to her. “Why not? It’s my campaign.”

“And you’ll get a full presentation along with the rest of the partners at your firm when I’m done. Right now I’m in the creative phase.”

He leaned back in his chair like he was going to sleep.

Really
? How on earth was she supposed to get anything done with him so…close by?

I’m not going sleep with him
…
I’m not going sleep with him
…
I’m not going to sleep with him…

Damn Aubrey for putting that idea in her head. Although, to be honest, she couldn’t blame Aubrey for that. The idea had been there since the moment she’d met him.

“Why don’t you go somewhere else?”

He raised his sunglasses to rest on top of his head and stared at her. “Why? Am I making you nervous?”

“Of course not, but I’m trying to concentrate and you’re distracting me with all your…questions.”

“It was only two questions, and you countered with one of your own.” There was a pause. “Are you trying to avoid me?”

“It was three questions and now that makes a fourth. Why would I want to avoid you?” It occurred to her that she’d never seen him look so relaxed. “What are you in such a good mood about, anyway? And why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the beach barbeque?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Obviously, I’m working. I have a wedding to pay for, remember?”

“Only because you want to.” When she didn’t respond, he laced his hands behind his head and grinned. “And you’re right. Despite the fact that I have absolutely no reason to be, I am in a good mood.”

She shouldn’t ask him to follow up on that cryptic statement. She needed to ignore him and go back to her sketchpad, but there was something so adorably cute about the way the skin around his eyes crinkled. If
this
was the Jack Martinez on those billboards, he might start getting a different sort of client. An image of thousands of adoring women tying up the firm’s 1-800 number to ask if they could be the one to take care of Jack Martinez’s
little man
made her giggle.

“What’s so funny?”

“Believe me, you don’t want to know.” She sat up straight. “Wait. I know why you’re in a good mood. You finally talked to Mitch. They’ve definitely decided to do law school, right?”

“Nope. Haven’t gotten a chance to talk to him yet. But no worries, your pitch is still a go. My assistant is scheduling it for late next week.”

She had one week to whip up a killer presentation. Felicity gulped. She could do it, because she had to. “So if you haven’t gotten to talk to Mitch, why are you in such a good mood?”

He ignored her question. “Are you really going to keep that sketchpad of yours a secret? C’mon, let me look. I could help you.”

He had a point. And more importantly, he was the client. Plus, this new deadline was suddenly making her stomach cramp. What could it hurt to get some input? She handed him her sketchpad.

“Why do you have the word family in big caps with a circle around it?” he asked.

“It’s a like a central theme. All your billboards, all your ads, for that matter, feature the three of you as a family, so I thought we could use that.”

“Why is there so much scratched out? And what’s this drawing about?” He pointed to a quick sketch she’d made that could potentially work on a billboard. It was a house with a white picket fence around it, once again, emphasizing the family theme.

“I’m just brainstorming. You know, playing with words and pictures. Like this one here,” she leaned over and pointed to the first line on the page, “
Let our family take care of yours
. I like it, but it sounds more like a logo for a medical practice.”

He nodded, then read the second scratched out line. “
Martinez and Martinez, putting your family first
.”

“I really like that one,” she admitted, “but it’s still not right.”

“Did your dad teach you how to do this?”

“Not really. I have a degree in marketing, but I’ve always been creative.”

“And he wasn’t?”

She thought about it a minute. “He always had good ideas, but he was more of a salesman and a business guy. He could take someone else’s idea and sell it to anyone. That was his real strength.”

“But it’s not yours.” It was a statement. Not a condemnation of her abilities.

“Definitely not mine.”

“So did you always doodle like this? Even when you were a little girl?”

“Always. My mom used to…she used to encourage me to draw.” She shrugged, hoping he’d change the subject.

He flipped through the rest of the pages. “Do you want to get out of here?” he asked casually.

“Is that some sort of pick up line?”

“Is everything about sex to you?”

She scoffed. “No.”
Well, with you around, maybe.

He looked like he was still waiting for an answer to his previous question. Perhaps what she needed was a distraction from her work. Sometimes her best ideas came when she wasn’t thinking too hard. She sighed. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”

He sat up quickly. “Seriously?”

She tossed the sketchpad inside her tote and stood. “I’m not going to get any work done with you hovering around so I might as well play along. So sure, where do you want to go?”

“I want to show you something. I’ll get my car and meet you by the entrance.”

“Car?” She glanced down at her bikini-clad self. “I need to change if we’re going off the resort.”

“This is a beach town. No one cares what you’re wearing.” He did a quick but thorough head-to-toe perusal. “Besides, I think you look perfect just the way you are.”

She flushed.
He
was the one who looked perfect just the way he was, but she wasn’t about to inflate his ego by telling him that. She took out a gauzy white beach cover up and pulled it over her head. It came to mid-thigh and was slightly see through, but he was right. This was a beach town and together with her flip-flops, she was as covered up as any of the other tourists walking around the island.

To her relief (and sanity) he also pulled on a T-shirt and they walked amiably toward the front of the resort. Felicity slid onto the leather passenger seat of the snappy red car. And with that, they were off. Jack didn’t go too fast, but he drove to the edge of the speed limit, driving with the sort of confidence that anyone who owned a car like this would have. She leaned back and enjoyed the feel of the hot July air whip around her. They didn’t talk, but it wasn’t awkward. She was surprised, however, when he parked in what appeared to be the middle of downtown Mimosa Key.

He hopped out of the car and opened the door for her. “Thanks, but what are we doing here?” she asked.

“C’mon, I want to show you something.” He put out his hand and without thinking, she slipped her hand into his. His fingers gently squeezed around hers, and the whole thing felt so natural, it was scary. What was she doing holding hands with Jack Martinez in the middle of the afternoon like they were some sort of couple?

* * *

They walked half a block past the Lee County Sheriff’s office, past a slew of small shops to end up in front of the empty office he’d seen the other day.

“What do you think?” he asked.

She looked inside the glass window, then across the street and back again. “I think this whole place is absolutely charming.” Her time in the sun had made her freckles more prominent. When she wrinkled her nose like that…
Damn
, no one did confused cuter than Felicity Reed. “Are you thinking of opening a small business?”

“I’m thinking of opening up a law office here. Not right now of course, but maybe someday.” Why was he showing her this? And why did her opinion matter so much?

“
Here
? In Mimosa Key?”

“Why not? I already found my first client. The owner of a little tourist shop right down the street. She’s having some problems with her landlord so I called him yesterday afternoon and raised some hell. Then to reinforce it, I drafted a letter last night and had my secretary send it this morning.”

“That doesn’t sound like the kind of case Martinez and Martinez handles.”

“It isn’t.”

“It must be some big rental property, huh?”

“Not really.”

She was quiet for a few minutes, like she was taking in everything he’d just told her. She gazed at the office space again, then back at him. “This office isn’t for Martinez and Martinez,” she said finally. “It’s for just…Martinez. It’s just for
you.
” She blinked. “That’s why you want Mitch to go to law school. You want to leave the firm and you want him to take your place.”

He nodded, relieved that he didn’t have to explain it to her.

“Jack! I think that’s fabulous. But why wait? Why not just break off on your own now?”

“It’s not that easy.” He picked up her hand and once again she took it as if walking down the street with him was something she did every day. He told her about Dad’s high blood pressure and how the doctor had urged him to slow down at work.

“When I first started out, everything was about the client. I fought the hard fight because the people we represent need someone who isn’t afraid to stand up to the big insurance companies. But then it became more and more about just winning. And more money. And the more I won, the more money I made. For everyone. And now, it’s like I don’t even know why I do it anymore. But here, or someplace like here, I could start over. Just me. Just something…simple.”

“But, couldn’t you get one of the other partners at the firm to step up to the plate?”

“Sure. Maybe. There are a couple of them that would probably do a good job running things, but, like you said, it’s a family firm. It wouldn’t be the same.”

She looked like she wanted to say something more, but she dropped the subject. They kept walking till they reached a floral shop called Bud’s Buds, and her face went all soft, so they went inside where he found out her favorite flowers were daisies. He thought about buying her some, but then he spotted the Sunshine Emporium across the street.

“C’mon, I want you to meet someone.”

She cocked her head to the side. “How long have you been in this town?”

He grinned. “I spent a better part of yesterday getting to know a little about the local economy. But this lady is special. She’s my first solo client.” He led Felicity to the front of the tourist shop. They stopped before entering to admire the paintings propped up against the lower wall.

“They’re pretty good, huh? The woman who owns this store is also the artist behind those watercolors. I bartered my services yesterday for one of those. A Cuban beach scene that I think Abuela is really going to love.”

“They’re very good,” Felicity agreed.

She picked up one of the watercolors and studied it with an intensity that made Jack pause. “If you like, I could find out if her roof is leaking. That might be worth another painting for me.”

She laughed and carefully set the painting back where it had been. They went inside the shop, but instead of Beth, there was a woman in her early twenties working the counter.