Fortunate Harbor (23 page)

She leaned closer, then, before she could change her mind, she brushed his lips with hers. “One has always been my lucky number. I’ll go with door number one.”

This time he cupped the back of her head and pulled her close. The kiss went quickly from casual and tentative to something that was neither. She inhaled the warm fragrance of his skin, part soap or shaving cream, part man. His lips were hard, but not bruising. He tasted like Budweiser, desire and tomorrow.

By the end, she knew she had decided to take a chance on Pete Knight.

“Lizzie is a constant in your life,” he said, after he pulled away.

“She’s spending the night with Olivia on Thursday.”

His smile was slow. “Have I told you about my camper?”

She felt heat warming her cheeks. “I should have known you had a camper. It suits you.”

“I’m renting month to month. It’s on a little lake just north of here. Nothing fancy.”

“Do you have a place to cook out?”

“A perfect place.”

“I’ll bring pie and steaks.”

“No, I’ll buy the steaks.”

She touched his lips with a fingertip, then pulled away.

“Shall I pick you up?” he asked.

“No.” She said it too quickly, but she wanted control. She wanted to have her own car, just in case she changed her mind. She would always need an escape.

“Then I’ll draw you a map. Just call before you leave so I can start the charcoal.” He took his bottle and unused glass into the kitchen, a clear sign, she thought, that he really had been somebody’s husband.

When he returned, she walked him to the door, although she wished he didn’t have to go. Waiting until Thursday to be alone with him seemed like waiting a lifetime. He stopped on the threshold and pulled something from his shirt pocket.

“I found this in the kitchen.” He held out a gold hoop.

Dana stared at his outstretched palm; then she took the earring. “Where on earth was it?” But she knew the answer.

“Beside the microwave.”

“In plain sight?”

“There’s a clamshell on the same shelf filled with odds and ends. It was buried, but the overhead light caught the glint of gold.”

“I can’t believe it,” she lied. “I guess Lizzie found it somewhere and put it there. She must have forgotten.” She looked up at him. “Thanks, Pete. This is a nice surprise.”

He searched her eyes, then he inched closer. And by the end of that kiss, she knew Thursday night, she would be
driving north, map in hand, toward something she shouldn’t risk. The earring was a reminder of how easy it was to make a mistake.

But she would go anyway.

Tracy wasn’t much of a drinker. A glass of wine before or with dinner was a treat. Mixed drinks were calorie fests and, except for the occasional splurge, best avoided. Wanda’s margaritas were an exception, of course, but then Wanda’s exceptions had plunked fifteen pounds on Tracy’s slender frame.

Unfortunately, Tracy, like anyone, was most prone to temptation when life was offering nothing but lemons. Even more unfortunately, tonight she had taken those lemons and imbibed them in the form of lemon drop martinis. Three, mixed by Henrietta’s able bartender, which was a lot more liquor and calories than she had needed. And now she was paying the price.

“You’re driving too fast.” She gazed out the window through slitted eyelids. It was dark, but the lights flashing along the bridge were giving her a headache and a queasy stomach.

“I’m going ten miles under the speed limit,” CJ said, a smile in his voice. Tracy hated it when he smiled at her and it didn’t even show on his face.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the seat. “Why does Edward Statler—” she tried to focus “—let you drive his car?”

“He and Sally keep the Vantage so their children will have their own ride when they visit. It was no hardship to offer it to me.”

“I have a friend who’ll give me a slice of pie anytime I ask.”

“Same thing.” The audible smile had widened to a grin.

“Better. You haven’t had Wanda’s pie.”

“You win, TK. Maybe you’ll share a piece someday.”

“How obvious was it that I’d had too much to drink?” She could hear the liquor in her words—not slurred, exactly, but a shade too precise.

“Only to me, I think.”

Tracy hadn’t been sure herself until postcruise, when her legs had wobbled as she stepped onto the dock. CJ had smoothly taken her arm, as if he was planning an intimate stroll toward the valet stand. Halfway there, he’d explained that the only car the valet would be getting tonight was his, and she would have to come back tomorrow for hers. By then she’d known better than to argue.

“Well, you set Henrietta’s heart fluttering when you grabbed me on the dock. She wants us to get back together. She pulled me aside…” She swallowed hard. Why, after all that liquid, did she feel as if she hadn’t had anything to drink in days?

“She pulled me aside,” she tried again, “and told me that you made a lot of money for her friends over the years, and she is absolutely convinced…you’ll beat those bogus charges against you.”

“It feels good to have somebody stand up for me.”

Tracy waited for the shame to wash over her because she herself had not stood up for him. She waited in vain. “Stand By Your Man” was not her theme song, at least not for this particular man. Maybe not any man, now that she thought about it, because hadn’t she dumped Marsh today, simply because his ex-wife was living with him?

No,
dump
didn’t quite cover what had happened between them. Unfortunately, she was too tired and dizzy to find another name for it.

“Henrietta isn’t just somebody,” she managed to point out.

“Tonight…somebody said—I don’t know who—that she’s the richest woman in Florida.”

“Edward’s been trying to get her to invest with him for years.”

“She seems pretty smart. She never invested with you.”

“Here I’m driving you home, out of the goodness of my black heart, and you’re insulting me.”

“I am dredging up facts. I am dredging up
truth
. My parents…my parents have stopped speaking to me, for the most part, because…because they blame me for…”

“Yes, I know what your parents think. Your mother wrote me frequently while I was in prison.”

“My mother?”

“I got almost weekly lists of the ways I ruined your life.”

Tracy hooted. “She hasn’t given that two minutes of thought, CJ.”

“Granted, it was a minor theme in her body of work. The letters were entertaining, but so was watching the roach who crawled out from under my bed at night to search for crumbs. Prison’s like that.”

“Henrietta wants us back together.”

“Yes, she’s told me so, too. I’m supposed to woo you with promises of a new start.”

Now was the time to tell CJ he had ruined her life. Only even in this state, she realized that particular line was her mother’s, not hers. Because CJ hadn’t ruined anything. Somehow he’d had the presence of mind to make sure that if everything fell apart, she got Happiness Key. And because of that, she’d begun a new and different life.

Of course tonight, sitting in the lap of luxury again, she had really, really missed the old one.

“I loved being waited on tonight.” She opened her eyes and
saw they had crossed the bridge and weren’t far from home. “I loved…Chateaubriand from real Kobe beef. I loved the truffle paté. I loved the Krug 1990….”

She realized she had forgotten to factor those two glasses of champagne into her liquor intake. And she had never done well with champagne. No surprise she felt dizzy. Mental note: Never again.

“You certainly seemed to.”

She turned to gaze at him, eyelids still slitted. “And so did you, CJ. In fact, I’d say you enjoyed yourself
way
too much. Maybe that’s why I had so much to drink.”

“Because I was having fun?”

“You were working the room.”

“We were on a yacht.”

“Then you were working the yacht!” She lowered her voice, because raising it made her head throb. “I was married to you. I know what it looks like. You were making connections so you could use them down the line. I’ve never seen that much…
showmanship
displayed outside the Venice Beach boardwalk. I’m surprised nobody pulled out a checkbook and signed a blank check for you.”

“Well, if I’m as notorious as they say, they wouldn’t have to sign it. I could take care of that, too.”

“What are you getting me into here, CJ?”

He didn’t answer until miles later, when he slowed. They had just crossed the border to Happiness Key, and they were nearly at her house.

“Right now I’m just trying to get you home in one piece,” he said.

“I have a life…here. I have a rep-u-ta-tion. Don’t ruin this. I’ll run out of places where I can start over.”

He turned into her driveway and pulled to a stop. “I’m not trying to ruin anything, TK. I came to Florida for a lot of reasons, and none of them involved exacting some kind of retribution on you for deserting me.”

“I did not desert you. I divorced you, because…” She stopped squinting, opened her eyes and made sure their gazes connected.

She focused carefully on what she was about to say. “Because I believed everything that was said about you. And I still do. I was there, CJ. The signs were all around me, only I was too young and stupid to pay attention. But some of those friends of yours…weren’t as presentable as your cockroach buddy, and not nearly as safe to be with.”

“A good businessman doesn’t turn his back on contacts who can help him. And yes, some were questionable, but nothing that
I
did was. Except trust the wrong people a few times too many, and not move quickly enough to shore up everything when I got the first whiff I was going to be investigated.”

“There was more to it.” She nodded forcefully and quickly wished she hadn’t. “And that’s the man I divorced. That CJ. The one who used people. The one who used me because I was so obli—oblivious to what he was doing.”

“I think you need a good night’s sleep.” CJ opened his door, but she grabbed his arm.

“Don’t get out!”

“I’m just going to help you to the door.”

“Don’t…bother.” She gathered her purse and shawl, and managed to get herself out of the car with only a smidgen of difficulty. “I’m fine. Thanks for the ride.”

He looked skeptical. “I’m going to sit here until you get to the door. Just to be sure you
can
.”

She didn’t even look back—afraid that turning her head
might bring on a wave of dizziness. She walked toward her door in something approximating a straight line. When she finally got there, she heard the engine turn over, then the sound of gravel crunching under his tires, and finally the sound of the Aston Martin disappearing down the road.

She sighed and opened her purse. And that was when she realized that the yacht club valet not only had her car, he had her
keys
, including her house key.

Janya’s house smelled like Rishi’s favorite
paneer jalfrazi
. It was too bad he had not bothered to come home to eat it. It was also too bad that he had not thought to call her and tell her he would not be home. After turning down her request to go away together for the weekend, as Wanda had suggested, he had promised a whole evening together. That was to be his compromise.

A compromise that was never enacted.

She had cleaned up the kitchen long ago, and Rishi’s portion of dinner had gone out to the garbage, where she would not have to look at it and be reminded of her abandonment.

She was just getting into her nightgown when she heard a scuffling noise at the front door. She suspected Rishi had finally made his way home, but when no key turned in the lock, she went to the door and flipped on the light, peeking through the side window to see who was there.

Tracy stared back at her.

Janya unlocked and opened the door. “Is anything wrong?”

Tracy had one hand pressed against the wall beside the door, as if to prop herself up. “Alice…has my extra key. She’s…not home.”

“She and Olivia took the bus up north to see Lee.”

Tracy nodded just a fraction. “That’s right.”

“You don’t have yours?”

Tracy shook her head—again, just a fraction.

“Come in. Why are we talking on the porch?”

“I had…no place else to go. I couldn’t go to Wanda’s. She would never let me forget this.”

“You are always welcome here.” Janya opened the door wider and put her hand on Tracy’s arm.

“I…had a bit too much to drink. I left my car at the yacht club.”

“I suspected. About the drinking, I mean. Can you make it inside?”

“Yes. I didn’t have…
that
much.”

Janya still didn’t let go of her friend’s arm. “You must need a place to sleep tonight.”

“If it’s not too much trouble. Alice will be home by morning. Right?”

“Their bus gets in very late tonight.”

“I can sleep on your sofa.”

“No.” Janya had already figured out the solution to both their problems. “There is a second bedroom.”

“That’s right. This is one of the
big
houses. Yours and Alice’s.” Tracy giggled.

“But that mattress is hard. You will sleep with me.”

“With you?” Tracy looked around, moving her head very slowly. “Where is Rishi?”

“I do not know, and furthermore, I do not care.”

“Janya…”

“Do not concern yourself. If my husband comes home tonight, he can sleep in the guest bedroom. His home computer and many of his files are there. He will feel more at home with them than he does with me.”

“I’m too tired to figure this out.”

“There is nothing to figure. I have extra nightgowns, and you will find a new toothbrush in the bathroom drawer. I sleep on the side beside the door.”

“You’re sure?” Tracy looked as if she was about to fall asleep on her feet.

“Go right into the bathroom. Wash your face and brush your teeth. I will bring you a nightgown.”

Tracy looked pleased to be given an order. “I can do that.”

Janya guided her in the right direction, just to be sure. When she was confident Tracy was following directions, she went into her room and rummaged for an extra gown. Then she took it into the bathroom, along with a fresh towel, and set both on the counter.