Authors: Leigh Talbert Moore
“Wait… I didn’t say that.”
“It’s just. My family can be difficult,” he said. “And I’m kind of… well, I’m not really sure what’s coming.”
“Is anybody?” I tried to laugh, to lighten the mood, and for god’s sake, save my date with him. “Lucy’s not difficult.”
Just then I heard the clink of ice on crystal. We both looked quickly as a dark figure emerged from the side patio and slowly walked in our direction. Jack straightened, stepping back.
“John?” a sharp voice said. I saw what could only be Bill Kyser step into the light. He was tall and slim with light brown hair and the same blue eyes as the twins. Only his eyes were cold and distant.
“Dad.” Jack’s casual manner was gone, and now he seemed tense. It made my hands shake as I fumbled with my keys.
“Who’s your pretty friend?” Mr. Kyser smiled, but it was not welcoming. I needed to go.
“This is Anna Sanders. From school,” Jack explained. “Lucy invited her over to work on a civics project.”
“Sanders… Sanders…” Mr. Kyser frowned, his eyes surveyed my appearance. Then he switched gears, rocking his tumbler to the side. “Do you drink, Anna?”
“Dad.” Jack said low.
“No, sir,” I said.
“What type of birth control do you use?”
Heat filled my face. Jack shouted, “Dad! You’re drunk, and Anna’s going home.”
I managed to get the car door open, despite my shaking hands. My vision was blurry, but it seemed Mr. Kyser chuckled as he took another drink and sauntered off. One of my books hit the ground.
“I’m really sorry,” Jack said, leaning to pick it up, but I slammed the door and jammed in the key. All I wanted was to leave. Fast. I didn’t know what I was doing on Hammond Island. I didn’t belong here, and I certainly wasn’t hanging around to be humiliated further.
“Anna,” I barely heard Jack’s voice as I punched the accelerator and drove away.
* * *
Thoughts swirled in my head as I drove across the narrow strip of land that separated the multi-million dollar estates from the rest of East End Beach. Jack’s dad was exactly what I had expected—rich, powerful, and mean.
Difficult
, Jack had said. Right after he’d asked me out. And then took it back.
Right before his dad asked me about birth control. My face flashed hot.
This was stupid. All of it. I was not Cinderella, I had a plan. I was going to college and becoming a journalist. I was strong and this year was going to be different—and not the kind of different that included me being embarrassed by drunken businessmen. With incredibly sexy sons. Who lived in what was practically a palace on the beach. My heart sank as my thoughts drifted out the window and back to Jack Kyser. Make that incredibly sexy sons who would be absolutely amazing to kiss…
I rolled down the window and breathed in the warm, salty air. It was a beautiful night, and soon my hands stopped shaking. The sun was a dim glow on the horizon, and the air was less hot in its absence. The black waves were crashing away. Seagulls and pelicans had roosted, and I could see the far-off lights of the city.
Twenty years ago, this place had been primarily farm families and society’s drop-outs. But I knew from local talk that Bill Kyser was the hero of that story. His vision and ability to draw businesses to the area had transformed the place. Now it was awash in shiny green-glass high rises that made it look more like the Emerald City than a once-tiny farming village on the northeastern shores of the Gulf of Mexico.
I guessed that made him the wizard, and I liked the analogy better. He lived far away from the regular people who rarely saw him, if ever. He was very powerful and rich. And mean. I realized I didn’t know much else about him other than his name, and that his wife died a long time ago.
Why would he isolate himself like that? He was from here, so he had to know a lot of people. And they might be small-town people, but the locals were all pleasant and friendly enough. Why would he withdraw? Was it grief after his wife died? Or was there something else?
My brow creased as I thought about my portfolio. Notable people. I wondered if my feature story could take a different approach. If I’d have the nerve to pursue it.
Chapter 4
The tardy bell sounded as I ran through the door and slid into my seat in English class. I didn’t look to either side, but I could feel his eyes on me, and it made my stomach clench.
“That sound means you’re
late
, Miss Sanders.” Our teacher fixed her dark eyes on me. I gave her a pleading face, and to my surprise she softened. “I’ll let this be your only warning.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, focusing on my book as she started the discussion.
She lectured right up to the bell, and as everyone was packing to leave, I saw Julian making his way through the bodies toward me. Sexy as ever, in black jeans with his shirttail out and sleeves rolled, everything about him should provoke a reaction in me, but something different was going on today. I was still thinking about the strange curtain I’d peeked behind last night, and despite it all, I wanted to know more. I wanted to be invited back.
“My patron saint of the arts,” Julian smiled, sitting on my desk. “I’ve been looking for you all day.”
“You’re out of luck, Julian, I’m broke. Try Rachel or Brad.”
“You can help me in more ways than money.” He grinned, taking my hand.
I straightened. “What do you mean?”
“Go to the dance with me Friday. I’m dateless, and how would that look for your news story? It’d kill my image.”
“It wouldn’t kill anything but your pride,” I slid my hand out of his. “And I don’t know about Friday.”
My voice trailed off as I glanced to the left, catching Jack’s eye. He quickly turned back to digging in his backpack.
“You have to go with me,” Julian insisted, standing. “You’re my angel.”
“Julian.” I wanted to cut off his flirty rant. Jack would not understand it was just our usual banter.
But Julian moved in close, closer than he ever had. “Wear something sexy. I’ll pick you up at seven.” And out of nowhere, he leaned forward and kissed me.
Everything stopped. Julian’s lips were touching mine. It wasn’t a long kiss or French, but it was warm and soft. And it scrambled my brain.
“Julian!” I whispered, stunned.
His eyebrows went up and down, and his grin was classic Julian show-stopper. “You like? That was a little teaser.”
I was still trying to remember what I’d been thinking when I saw my civics book on my desk. Jack was gone, and the next class was arriving. I was going to be late, and it appeared my fairytale dreams with him were over. But of course they were. He’d flat out said we shouldn’t start anything, and his dad didn’t like me.
“So we’re on?” Julian said, backing up.
I blinked back to him. “Sure.”
“Awesome.” He smiled and disappeared as fast as he’d arrived, leaving me to sort out what just happened, and whether I was sad or thrilled.
Julian was far from sloppy seconds. I should be thrilled, but my brow lined. What was up with Julian? Was this about the feature? Could it honestly be more? Could I honestly find out without looking like a total idiot?
* * *
Lucy didn’t seem to know anything about what had happened at her house last night, which further reinforced my suspicion that my five-second flirt with dating her super-hot brother was over. But she did know about last period.
“So you’re going to the dance with Julian LaSalle?” She eyed me curiously.
“Yeah. I’m doing a feature on his art for the newsblog. It’s just research.” I hadn’t thought about the ethics of dating my subjects. Much.
“Sounds like a fun field,” she winked. “Didn’t he make the dolphin in the quad?”
I nodded. Last year Julian had designed a patchwork dolphin made up of discarded pieces of driftwood, copper, and metal roofing, and it turned out so well, the principal had it planted on the school grounds.
“He’s really talented,” I said. “His current project is a sculpture of a runner made from different pieces of junk. Like the head is a motorcycle tire and the arms and legs are metal tubing and stuff. It sounds weird, but it looks cool. He sent me some pictures.”
She took my phone and slid her finger across the slideshow of Julian’s art. “He does all this at school?”
“And his house. His mom basically gave him their garage for his workshop.”
We were quiet as Mrs. Womack passed down the row returning graded projects.
“Are you going Friday?” I hoped she might tell me Jack’s plans.
“Not sure,” she whispered. “I don’t really know a lot of guys here yet.”
“Oh, well, it’s just a silly dance.” I didn’t want her to feel bad—most guys at our school were probably too intimidated to ask Lucy on a date. And after meeting her dad, I wasn’t sure they were wrong to feel that way. “I doubt I’d be going if Julian hadn’t asked me.”
“We got an
A
on our project.” She smiled and turned back to her books.
Chapter 5
Even if I wasn’t sure how to interpret my date with Julian, there would be pictures. And I wanted to look as hot as possible. Tamara Johnson had done my hair since we moved here, and being a local, she knew all the inside scoop. I sat in her home-salon Friday afternoon as she pulled out my curls with her big round brush and gave me the latest.
“Julian’s so cute. I love the way he dresses. And so talented.” She winked as if she knew something I didn’t, which she probably did. “You know that running sculpture he’s working on? With the motorcycle parts? His mom said it’s been commissioned for the National Athletic Center in Darplane.”
“That would be huge!” I had to add that to my feature on him—bonus for both of us! “Hey, I didn’t know you did Ms. LaSalle’s hair.”
Julian got his easy, beachy manner straight from his mom. She reminded me of a French movie actress with olive skin, long dark-brown hair and dark eyes. She’d never married, not even Julian’s dad, and she was quiet and graceful. I’d talked to her a few times when I was tutoring Julian. She owned a small souvenir and original artwork store down by the water.
“Oh, yeah,” Tamara said. “Since we were kids. Before she was Alexandra LaSalle and just went by Lexy.”
A one-word name. Perfect. “I wonder why she’s always alone. She’s so beautiful.”
“Mm-hm,” Tamara nodded. “Keeps to herself. Very private.”
My mind drifted to the other loner I’d recently met. And my story idea. “Hey, what do you know about Bill Kyser? He has those twins who started at the school this year?”
“I know those folks don’t mingle with the natives.”
“Actually, Lucy invited me over to their house to study, and I sort of met him.”
Tamara grinned. “Well, I will tell you this,
that’s
a good-looking man.”
“But kinda mean, don’t you think?”
“I wouldn’t know, baby girl.”
“Do you know what happened to his wife?”
“Meg Kyser?” Tamara looked up at the ceiling. “It’s been a long time. The official report is that she was killed in a car accident. Period. But there was some gossip drugs or alcohol was involved. I think some people even suggested she might’ve committed suicide. But that kind of stuff isn’t said about the Kysers.”
“Why would she do that?” I asked. “I mean, they’re rich and she was a mom.”
Maybe I could understand wanting to get away from Bill Kyser if he were as mean behind the scenes as out front, but I couldn’t believe Jack and Lucy’s mom would kill herself. She had small children, after all.
“Why does anybody do anything?” Tamara looked at me, and I knew what was coming. “Mental illness.”
Tamara’s big thing was mental illness ever since she’d started taking psychology courses at the community college. It was her explanation for everything these days.
“You think she was crazy.”
“We don’t like to use that term,” she said. “But she might’ve had a hormone imbalance after having the twins, or maybe she was having an affair and got busted.”
“Tamara!”
“Oh, I don’t know anything for sure.” Her dark eyes were twinkling as she laughed and finished ironing my last lock of hair. She spun me around so I was facing the mirror. “How’s that?”
“Can we keep it this way forever?” I ran my hand down the side of my smooth, freshly highlighted coif. Tamara was very good at her job, and she didn’t charge me full price since I was a minor, she said.
“Sorry, babe, those curls are coming back next wash. But hang in there. The fashion pendulum always swings back.”
“Bye, Tam.”
* * *
Once home, I ran straight to my room and pulled on my sundress from last spring. It still worked for fall being midnight blue with thin straps and flaring out nicely from my waist to my knees. I touched up my face, applied some red lipstick, and slipped on tan pumps, jogging back down the stairs just as Julian was walking in the door.
He looked great in jeans and a navy oxford that made his eyes glow. His dark hair was shiny and smooth with one lock hanging just past his eyes, and I watched him give my mom a quick hug.