No Tan Lines (18 page)

She glanced at her watch. Ten-twenty. She’d only been in the building a few minutes, and already it seemed like eight hours.

“Marlene Mason is the first person I want you to meet,” Trace said as they entered the elevator. “My staff will stop by your office and introduce themselves throughout the day.”

His staff?
The intros weren’t necessary. She was here for two short weeks. Not long enough to remember their names and get acquainted.

The elevator doors opened on the third floor, and Shaye was grateful the hallway stood empty. Trace’s hand remained at her back. He nudged her forward, past his office and into hers.

She blinked, and goose bumps rose as she stood in the doorway and took it all in. There was nothing temporary about her workplace; it looked permanent.

Sunlight filtered through the wide tinted windows, casting the room in gold. The carpet was so thick, she wouldn’t see her feet the entire day. Two armchairs faced each other, inviting conversation.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Trace eased her inside.

Comfortable?
She could barely breathe. She set her laptop and purse on a cherrywood worktable next to a healthy violet plant. A shallow candy dish held jelly beans.

Her eyes rounded as she crossed to her TrekDesk.

She’d seen them advertised but never in use. The machine was both exercise- and work-efficient.

She ran her fingers along the crescent-shaped desktop, perfectly set to her height. Atop the desk, a flat-screen computer curved into the keyboard. The manuscript holder would support books, magazines, or papers. A small printer sat on a raised stand to her right. The uphill slant of the treadmill was adjustable.

Trace stood with his hands in his pants pockets and eyed her speculatively. “You’re an active woman, Shaye. I don’t want you feeling cramped or claustrophobic. Here you can walk and work and still get the job done.”

He gave her a moment to take it all in before adding, “You have plenty of shelving and cabinet space. I had stationery printed with your name.”

She’d never owned stationery.

Yellow sticky notes delivered her messages.

She felt suddenly overwhelmed and needed to stabilize. Sunshine settled her down.

She went to the window and found the view picture-perfect. The beach was pristine and sparsely populated. There wasn’t a grain of sugar sand out of place.

Bermuda-blue cabanas offered shade. Young men in white shirts and dark shorts stood in attendance. Not a single person sunbathed or utilized the white beach umbrellas. No one splashed or swam along the shoreline. It was as if they were afraid to make waves.

The volleyball tournament would soon shake things up. She smiled to herself. Saunders Shores was about to be injected with fun in the sun.

She turned back to Trace. He looked expectant, tense, as he awaited her verdict. He’d done so much, when she needed so little. She would’ve worked off a card table.

“Thank you,” she said, and she meant it.

Her two words satisfied him. She heard him exhale, and the tightness in his shoulders eased. He appeared inordinately relieved that she liked her office.

Before he left, he directed her attention to a portable phone on the worktable. “All in-house lines,” he told her. “Line one calls Martin. Two, Marlene. The third goes directly to me.” He paused. “Settle in. I’ll bring Marlene by to meet you in thirty.”

She’d barely loaded her laptop when her Aunt Molly knocked on the door. The scent of sugar and cinnamon entered with her. Uncle Carl came next, followed by her cousin Jenna. A few others trickled in as well.

Her family was both concerned and curious as to her new surroundings. There were suddenly more people than chairs.

Soft laughter rose, but voices were kept low. The Cateses restrained their exuberance in the formal setting, but their consideration and affection embraced Shaye.

Trace soon returned, Marlene Mason at his side. Introductions were made. Shaye was surprised that Trace already knew everyone’s name. Her relatives soon departed, and a part of Shaye left with them. Her office had lost much of its warmth.

Trace leaned against the doorjamb.

Marlene took one of the armchairs.

Shaye settled at the worktable, wanting access to her laptop.

She lived by first impressions and her intuition. They had always guided her well. She looked at Marlene first as a woman, then as a professional. Sharp-featured, the redhead presented herself in a tailored navy suit. Her dark pumps pushed her to medium height. Diamond studs were her only jewelry. Austere, Shaye thought, and all business.

“Shaye will bring you up to speed on the tournament,” Trace said to Marlene. “I’ll have Martin get you coffee. Black and”—he knew how Marlene liked her coffee—“Shaye?”

“Same,” she said.

“I’ll see you both later.”

“His
later
means noon,” Marlene said. “We have a lunch date.” Apparently she was possessive of her boss.

Shaye let it slide. She’d planned to call Kai. They’d walk back to Molly’s diner, enjoy juicy cheeseburgers and curly fries, and discuss his morning on the boardwalk. She was aware of eight needed repairs. There could easily be more.

Marlene took her time getting down to business. She openly admired Shaye’s office. “This is quite a setup for a temp,” she said, referring to Shaye’s short stay. “Trace and Martin spent all day Sunday getting organized for your arrival.”

Shaye sat quietly, although her heartbeat quickened. She hadn’t expected Trace to get involved in her work space. Sunday, he should’ve been sailing. He was often featured in the local
Southern Shores
magazine as a winner of local regattas. “It’s a great office,” she agreed.

The corners of Marlene’s mouth pulled tightly. “What did you do to earn so much attention?” She got personal.

“I let him ride my Ferris wheel.”

The secretary’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s good for a man to be a boy on occasion.”

Shaye had enjoyed Trace’s company more than she cared to admit. He’d been relaxed and proved a good loser. They hadn’t been at each other’s throats. They’d lived a one-day truce. Their respite just might stretch two weeks, until after the sporting event, if she were lucky.

She didn’t want to talk about Trace. She preferred to discuss the tournament. “Let’s talk volleyball,” she initiated. She went on to lay out her plans.

Marlene listened intently until Shaye ran out of breath and Martin arrived with their coffee. They both took a sip.

Marlene stared at Shaye over the rim of her cup, and Shaye swore she heard the woman’s mind working. The secretary hadn’t brought a yellow pad or jotted down a note. She must have total recall.

Marlene crossed her legs and settled deeper into the chair. She tapped her blood-red nails on the armrest. “You see the big picture but not the details,” she finally said. “I’ve traveled with Trace and put together numerous events for the Saunders Corporation. It’s the fine-tuning that pulls it all together.”

They’d taken trips together
. Marlene had established a closeness to her boss that Shaye would never share. While Shaye would run fast and far from an office romance, it appeared Marlene had let Trace catch her.

The man led an active sex life.

Shaye wondered how Nicole Archer handled competition.

This might be her cousin Kai’s opportunity to win over the jewelry designer. The man was half in love with her already.

Shaye nodded to Marlene. “I’m interested in your suggestions.”

She’d opened the door to Marlene’s opinion, and the woman shot down every one of Shaye’s plans, claiming them to be too small-town. Her recommended changes were considerable, and Shaye’s operating budget was tight.

“Our finances are limited.” She hated to admit that, but it was the truth.

Marlene wasn’t fazed. “Trace has money. He’ll donate to your cause.”

Barefoot William wasn’t a charity. Shaye didn’t want his money. Her town needed a push to get back on its feet. She was banking on the tournament’s success.

“We don’t need his financial assistance.” She stood firm. “This isn’t a sanctioned competition. My brother, Dune, is giving back to the community. All the professional players are donating their time. My family will provide the food, beverages, and souvenirs. I’m
renting—”
she stressed the fact she was paying her own way—“two hundred feet of Trace’s beach.”

“His beach and my expertise,” Marlene said. “When you cross onto Saunders Shores, Trace becomes part of the event’s success. He doesn’t deal in failures.”

Shaye had no plans to fall on her face, yet Marlene seemed to think she would soon take a nosedive. She wondered if Trace felt the same way.

Perhaps that was the real reason he’d brought in his so-efficient secretary. Trace saw Shaye as a liability. If so, he was damn underhanded. Shaye hoped she was wrong.

“Think about what I’ve said.” Marlene gracefully stood and put an end to their meeting. “We’ll continue our discussion this afternoon.” She took off.

Shaye watched her leave. The woman had curves and a smooth walk. She presented herself well. She was competent and knowledgeable and would soon be having lunch with Trace. The garden cafés and bistros at Saunders Shores were expensive and intimate. A simple lunch on his side of the street would break Shaye’s bank.

She went in search of her cell phone and found it at the bottom of her purse. She sent a text to Kai, requesting he meet her at Saunders Square in one hour. He agreed. They would backtrack to Molly’s, and the walk would give them a chance to talk. She looked forward to seeing a familiar face.

Shaye shrugged off her blazer and shoes and approached the TrekDesk. She needed to clear her head. Exercise helped her think. She clocked five miles, yet her mind still remained cluttered. She could use some fresh air.

Kai arrived early, and, to both Shaye’s and his surprise, Nicole Archer strolled off the elevator shortly thereafter. The jewelry designer waved and approached them as if they were old friends.

Shaye’s gaze shifted between the two new arrivals. Kai stood in a gray T-shirt and jeans. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared at the sight of Nicole. His look was steamy.

Nicole’s smile held surprising warmth, as well. She blushed beneath his stare. She looked bohemian chic in a white tunic and matching wide-leg pants. A thin gold-chain belt wrapped her waist. Her heels were cream suede. Cranberry glass and rhinestones glistened at her ears and draped in a necklace. Her bracelets were a collection of mixed metals.

Nicole turned to Shaye. “I came to check on you. The boardwalk is buzzing over you working from the enemy camp. I just learned that the Cateses and Saunders are at odds. Is this recent?” she asked.

Shaye sighed. Nicole was an innocent pawn in the rivalry between her and Trace. But Shaye had no time for explanations today. They could come at a later time. “It’s century-old and a very long story” was enough for now, she hoped.

“We can take an extended lunch.” Nicole showed surprising interest in their dispute.

“Who’s watching your shop?” Kai asked, changing the subject.

“I hired Violet from the diner as a part-time sales associate. She has a creative eye. She’ll work for me when she’s not scheduled at Molly’s. Today is her day off,” Nicole informed them. “This next week I plan to take on two or three teenage girls. I want to put models in the store and on the boardwalk, wearing my signature white with my jewelry.”

Nicole’s hiring of her relatives pleased Shaye greatly. Nicole was definitely innovative. The fact that she employed family members would please the Cateses. The teenagers could use the extra money. Their allowances had been cut way back.

Nicole looked from Shaye to Kai. “Are you having lunch together?” she asked, looking hopeful that they’d invite her to join them.

Kai tensed. “Aren’t you here for Trace?”

The jewelry designer shook her head. “I’ve no reason to see him. My mission was to check on Shaye.”

Kai visibly unwound. “My cousin can take care of herself,” he said.

Shaye motioned them inside her office. “Look around, and you’ll see I’m doing just fine.”

The two entered and openly stared.

Kai couldn’t take his eyes off the TrekDesk.

Nicole caught her breath and was the first to speak. “This isn’t an office designed around a feud. It’s been set up with respect and reflection. Trace gave you a violet, which I know for a fact is his mother’s favorite flower.”

Shaye liked violets, too.

Kai shifted his stance, looking uncomfortable. His lip curled slightly. “When did you and Saunders become so chummy?”

Shaye knew the exact moment a subtle yet significant acceptance had settled between them. It had been on the Ferris wheel, when Trace handed her the tournament and a liaison and she accepted his office space.

She hoped he hadn’t played her for a fool.

She remained cautious and aware of his every move.

“Trace and I aren’t friends,” she stressed to Kai. “We’re merely two people with one goal at the moment.”

Kai still looked skeptical.

Shaye was about to reassure him further when her cell phone rang. She retrieved it and looked at the incoming number. It was Uncle Chris. Chris owned Saltwater Sharkey’s and had sponsored a sandlot team for as long as Shaye could remember. She hoped nothing was wrong.

“I need to take this call,” she said. Shaye didn’t mind Kai eavesdropping, but Nicole was a different story. This was family business.

She shot Kai a pointed look, which he acted upon. He engaged Nicole in small talk. The woman was more than willing to discuss her latest designs.

Shaye listened intently as her uncle relayed the bad news. His local bar and pool hall was financially strapped. He was forced to give up his team sponsorship. He felt awful, but she felt worse.

She disconnected and debated what to do next. Her own store, Goody Gumdrops, couldn’t support two teams. It took a lot of penny-candy sales to maintain the one. She would soon be canvassing the other store owners. Surely one of her relatives could take on twelve kids for the remainder of the season. She just needed to decide whom to approach first.