Magic Moment (10 page)

“Oh, Chase, look!”

Saved by the dolphins. Six dolphins, sleek and powerful, played alongside the boat. Bobbing in and out of the water, they appeared aware of being admired.

“They’re probably heading north from Florida, or maybe from Mexico,” he said.

She was totally immersed. “They’re a magnificent sight.”

Focused on the mammals, she was unable to see Chase staring. Her face radiated, her smile widened, her eyes sparkled. “Yeah, a magnificent sight,” he said. He wasn’t referring to dolphins.

Laura was more than magnificent. She was breathtaking.

Chase realized that the “something” drawing him to her
was
her. Funny, beautiful, bright, genuine. That “something” that astounded and delighted him was simply her being Laura.

One last graceful swirl, and the parading dolphins pranced off in another direction.

An idea came to Chase. “Given we have another day or two on the boat, and you need some clothes, let’s stop in Beach Bay. It’s not far.” Prolonging the trip gave him more time with her. “While you shop, I’ll grab some decent food.”

She agreed. “That reminds me. Your laptop. Do you mind if I get online to pay my bills? I would hate to return home and find my utilities turned off.”

“Sure.” He gave her the necessary computer information. “We’ll dock in about a half hour.”

• • •

Laura hopped on the bar stool and waited while the laptop hummed. She had heard the stories, mostly from Rachel, of Chase Donovan’s revolving door of women, his gambling nights in Atlantic City, his “good-time-Charlie” persona. She already knew he didn’t really have a job, unless one called taking customers and suppliers to dinner a job. Many times he sat at his desk feigning a business task while merely scanning the Internet. This was a man in his thirties who basically made a career of not having a career at all.

Who would have guessed he had wanted to be an attorney to help others? Who would have guessed he even was an attorney? Or that his eyes would get misty when he talked about a repulsive individual beating a defenseless horse? A few weeks ago, Laura would have imagined Chase’s only link to homeless people had been a monetary donation for a tax deduction. Like his late mother before him, he bought these unfortunate souls coffee.

The computer found its connection, she tapped the keys bringing up her bank account, and started rearranging the funds. First on her mental list was paying her telephone bill. She tapped a few more keys, stared at the screen, and frowned. The telephone company line was down.
Please stay online,
the words flashed from the blue screen.
We’ll be with you shortly.

Laura’s mind wandered and she felt two imaginary arms envelope her. Chase’s earlier unexpected bear hug had seemed natural. She liked his pleasant gesture, his embrace. She especially liked sleeping next to him, how they had cuddled together to ward off the cold.

Chase made her feel all warm and fuzzy. She shook off the pleasant sensation. She had to put aside this foolishness. He was a human being who helped her through an ordeal. She shouldn’t romanticize their situation.

Back in business, Laura hit the keyboard. She paid her telephone bill, the gas bill, then logged into her ATM account, checking available cash for clothes shopping. Luckily, she had plastic in her purse.

The numbers staring back were puzzling and weird. Stroking a few more keys did nothing to improve the figures. There should have been much more money in her account.

Behind the bar was the box with her desk items. She knelt down, shifting the contents until she found the envelope. Dick Donovan had been stuck in the seventies and used the term “paycheck,” but thanks to direct deposit and computers, paychecks were pay vouchers. When Dick had given her the envelope, she hadn’t opened it, but had merely slid it in the box. To open the envelope and check the amount — which included two weeks of vacation pay and he had promised two weeks of severance — in front of him would have been rude. Laura was far from rude … which her boss was well aware.

She ripped open the envelope and let out a gasp.

“What’s the matter?”

Seeing Chase in the doorway, she bounced to her feet.

“Nothing.” She forced her best synthetic smile.

His brow wrinkled. “We’re docked. I came to see if you were okay with the laptop, and you’re a lousy liar.”

Her smile remained set, but she flinched.

“Laura, don’t lie,” he said.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Lying to me doesn’t hurt?”

She dreaded her words. “Before I got into the car with Ron, your father gave me an envelope. He told me it contained my final wages.”

“The money is short?”

“Chase, there is no money,” she said quickly. “There is no pay voucher. The envelope contains nothing but blank white paper to make it look full. Your father never made the deposit to my bank account.” She held out the envelope.

He took the envelope, eyes set on her, staring apprehensively before looking inside.

White paper. His eyes remained on the blank sheet as if waiting for print to miraculously appear. After a few moments, he sighed. “Dad knew you wouldn’t open the envelope in front of him.”

Chase handed her the envelope. His blue eyes, a short while ago bright and animated, dulled with pain. She felt his ache, a stab in her chest almost as if Lou were slicing her flesh again.

“No money.” His fingers raked his wavy hair. “The bastard knew you wouldn’t get to spend it.”

“Chase, I’m sorry. You hoped your father’s involvement was a misunderstanding.”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t hoping.” He inhaled, then exhaled deeply. “Last night I listened to my voicemail.” He detailed the messages. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Oh, Chase,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. She ached to throw her arms around him, to comfort him, take away the ugliness as he had done for her.

She expected him to swear, to shout, to throw something. His father’s deception should rile him.

Instead, Chase quietly smiled. “Finished with your bills? I’m looking forward to taking you ashore. You’ll like Beach Bay.”

Walking on concrete felt good. A damp chill nipped the air, and Laura tugged up her coat collar. The weather offered a chilly, musty April shower’s preview. Chase’s monologue seemingly well prepared, he entertained her with the history of Beach Bay, a small town with an even smaller population.

They stopped at a picturesque café overlooking the bay. Chase ordered a cheeseburger with fries, Laura a turkey on rye. Attentive, cheerful, his playful mood turned on in full force, he promised to teach her blackjack. A jovial Chase focused on their time together, as if their conversation before leaving the boat had never occurred. Laura had noticed that trait about Chase. How he could easily pretend something unpleasant hadn’t happened. With Dick Donovan as a father, she decided the pretense served as a survival mechanism. For Chase’s benefit, she happily pretended, too.

They strolled along Bay Street, the town‘s main street. The sidewalk was littered with a bakery, a bookstore, cafés, gift shops, and on the corner, a charming boutique. Laura focused on the adorable blue sundress in the window. Unfortunately, she was in the market for more practical attire.

They stood outside the boutique. “Anything special you want from the supermarket?” he asked.

“No thanks.”

“What’s your cell number? In case I need to get you.”

“I don’t have a cell phone. It’s ridiculous to walk down the street talking on a phone.”

“No cell?” He arched an eyebrow. “What year do you live in?”

She smiled at his quip. “This one. I never saw a need for a cell phone. Any phone calls I have to make can be done from home or the office.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, I’ll pick you up right here in an hour. Have fun.” He tossed her a huge grin and started down the street.

Laura needed no excuse to go clothes shopping, and the tiny boutique had some charming designs. Few patrons scanned the shop. The lone sales associate, a freckled-faced bored teenager, eagerly assisted. In the end, and to the associate’s pleasure, Laura had purchased ample lingerie, two nightshirts, one yellow satin, the other a soft plum fleece; two V-necked, long sleeved, combed cotton tees, one black, the other a dusty pink; a pair of denim jeans and a pair of charcoal cotton/spandex leggings with a matching tunic sweater; a pair of black flat shoes that she immediately changed into — her heels weren’t made for walking.

When they returned to
Madre
, dusk skimmed the harbor. Laura was hanging her new clothes in the closet when Chase stepped into the room. His hands were concealed behind his back.

“I got you a present,” he said.

She was taken aback. “Present? For me?”

“Yes. Something nobody should be without.”

“What is it?” Laura’s tone mirrored her curiosity.

His answer was a lift of an eyebrow and an impish eye twinkle.

“I like getting presents,” she said.

His hands came from behind his back. In his right, he held a silver cellular phone. “Nothing fancy or overly tech. And you don’t need to walk down the street scheduling your next hair appointment. But you should have this at all times. For emergencies.”

He pressed a button and the screen glowed. “I have all the paraphernalia in the galley, your phone number and battery recharge and stuff. I’ve done the important programming, speed dial.” He pointed to the buttons. “One is for my cell. Two, for me at home. Three, the office. If you’re in a jam and need someone, call me.”

She took the gadget, inspecting the details. Tears stung her eyes. “Oh, Chase. This is so sweet.” Her mother, girlfriends, even Jack had ribbed her for not having a cell phone. But to Laura, if you had a cell phone, you had to keep it turned on, and people generally called you when you weren’t in the mood to talk … like on a bus. She was often annoyed, at the end of the day, taking the bus home and being forced to listen to all of the personal business of the person sitting next to her.

Chase’s words rushed out. “I don’t expect you to get into any more jams. You probably won’t need to call.” He paused. “You should keep the phone on you.”

His thoughtfulness was overwhelming. Her arms instinctively slid around his neck, and she hugged him tighter than simple friends should hug. His arms wrapped around her waist, returning the embrace.

“Thank you.” Something brushed her hair, and she realized it was his lips.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, and Laura thought he hesitated before releasing her.

She sniffed the air. “What’s that great smell?”

“I picked up a rotisserie chicken for dinner. All prepared with the trimmings. It’s warming in the microwave.”

“I love rotisserie chicken!”

“I knew that.”

“You did?”

Chase joked of his psychic abilities.

“Oh, you.” She laughed. He had no idea she liked rotisserie chicken, but simply enjoyed teasing her.

“By the time you’re finished hanging your clothes, I’ll have the food ready,” he said and left the cabin.

Laura held the cell phone in one hand, stroked it lovingly with the other. He wanted so much to be a considerate friend to her, and he was.

But Laura had a real big problem with his friendship.

She just might be falling in love with Chase Donovan.

• • •

Since he had cooked, Laura insisted her job was to clean up. While she was busy with her task, Chase picked through the can filled with bolts and screws. He had tried three different spring catches, but none seemed to do the trick. The entire window needed to be replaced, a deed that couldn’t be accomplished tonight. If the Beach Bay supply shop didn’t have a replacement in stock, one needed to be ordered. Continuing on without a secure window meant major water damage if they ran into a severe storm.

“Not much can be done tonight,” he said as Laura entered the room. “Luckily, despite how dreary it’s been all day, the Coast Guard weather forecast isn’t calling for rain.” His brow crinkled. “Although they are warning of a dip in temperatures. I can cover the window with plastic trash bags. Some extra blankets and quilts are in the storage area.”

He found one extra blanket, which wasn’t enough to keep them both warm if he intended to sleep on the window seat.

“I must have sent the quilts out to be dry-cleaned, and forgot to bring them back.”

She pulled the plum fleece nightshirt off the wooden hanger. “Chase, you’re not freezing on that window seat. We’ll sleep the way we did last night. I’m beneath the quilt and you’re on top with the blankets. I won’t be responsible for you catching pneumonia.”

Before Chase had a chance to reply, Laura was in the head, and he stared at the closed door separating them. He sighed and popped the plastic lid on the can. So, here they were. Sharing a bed again tonight. What she had said, one sleeping on top of the quilt, while the other slept beneath, made sense. And they were adults.

Since he had bought the cell phone that afternoon, he couldn’t help but notice that there was a little too much togetherness going on between them.
Emotional
togetherness. As he had stared at the electronic gadgets in the store window, he couldn’t help but wonder if her abduction could have been prevented if she’d had a phone that evening.

Probably not.

But he was concerned about her. Probably because of the last few days, but her welfare consumed his thoughts.

Plus, whether intentional or not, he was letting Laura see a side of him that he never revealed. Being with her stabilized him, softened him. His mother would have called it his human side. With Laura, his guard was down. He was comfortable.

And he liked it.

Being around Laura also had another, more unsettling effect; when she stood near him, when he caught a trace of her fresh scent, he found keeping his hands off her a challenge.

The last thing he had needed tonight was her throwing her arms around him, even if the gesture had been one of gratitude.

His connection and tenderness toward Laura was growing, increasing by the hour. His common sense reminded Chase that his affections were the last thing she needed right now. But when he took her delicate hand to help her on and off the boat, or heard her jovial chuckle as they exchanged good-natured barbs, he never wanted their time together to end.