Summers' Love, A Cute and Funny Cinderella Love Story (LPC Romantic Comedy Series) (17 page)

“Stop it. Just stop lying!” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I want to go home!”

“Hey, come on. Don’t be like this,” he pleaded. “Tell you what, let’s both give ourselves a few minutes to settle down. Then we’ll go ashore and take a long walk on the beach … talk this out.”

Her eyes narrowed and she stared at him as if he were a stranger. “Yesterday afternoon I saw a water taxi over at the lighthouse dock. Drop me off there.”

“You’d leave?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Because of a little misunderstanding?”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” She dabbed at her eyes with her palms as though trying to regain her composure. “I
trusted
you. You
promised
me I wouldn’t get hurt. But that’s exactly what happened. I knew this was a mistake.”

“Come on, Kate, let me fix this. I’ll delete the file, I’ll come up with another character for my book.”

“You took advantage of me, just like my ex after our wedding. I feel naïve and stupid. I could never be with anyone who cheated on me.” Kate whirled, marched down the narrow passageway towards the back of the yacht.

Suddenly realizing he was about to lose her for good, Stu followed after her into the aft cabin. “I didn’t cheat on you, Kate. That was the other guy. All I did was—”

“Stop talking.” She tossed her suitcase on the bunk.

“Capture the essence of what we—”

“Still talking.” She threw her things inside.

“Fine. If you’re dead set on leaving …” Stu opened a small closet stuffed with rain gear and pulled out a cardboard box. He dropped it unceremoniously on her bunk. “Thirteen copies, all signed. I was going to surprise you later.”

Kate paused from her packing long enough to eye the autographed copies of
In Heat
sitting in the box. She quickly zipped her suitcase.

“Keep ’em.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” said Stu, folding the box flaps in and closing the carton. He shoved the box toward her suitcase. “They’re yours.”

Without another word, she tucked the box under her free arm and grabbed the handle of her suitcase. “
I want off this boat right now
.”

Stu tried to collect his thoughts. He sighed before speaking. “You know, for someone who claims she’s a good judge of character, you blew it with me.”

She seemed taken aback by his words. “Oh, I doubt that. I know your type all too well.”

“No, Kate, you don’t. And now you never will.”

Chapter Twenty

“
A
re they signed?”

Kate eyed the box of books at her feet. Exhausted from the long drive home and feeling depressed and discouraged, Kate found it impossible to think about anything but how badly she had misjudged Stu Summers. Not knowing what to do, she called Red, the woman from her stun gun party, who met her outside the locked entranceway of Renwick Chapel.

“I think so,” Kate answered, “but to be honest I haven’t looked.”

A cool, misting rain cloaked the weathered headstones of the Oak Hill Cemetery. Perfect weather, she thought. Matched her mood. The short portico barely covered the two women but that wasn’t Kate’s main concern. She had planned to have the women from the party stop by her townhome where Kate would dole out the books, but instead when she got home she’d found an eviction notice on her front door. Her heartless landlord hadn’t even bothered to follow the law. Instead of giving her the 5 days to send in her payment the firm had changed locks and kicked her out. Now, finding a place to lay her head had her stomach in knots.

“Can’t believe you drove all the way down to Ocracoke Island,” Red said, “and spent nearly two days with Stu Summers.” One perfectly-arched brow rose. “Tell me, how was it?”

Kate chose to ignore the question. “Would you make sure the others get their signed copy?
And
collect the money. Cash or check is fine. I have to fly out tomorrow for our big sales conference in Charleston. That’s when they’re going to announce this year’s top sales person. It’d be really great if we could meet later and you give me the total of how many actually paid for the book and gun. Oh, and I need the money before I file my final sales report.”

“Don’t you worry,” Red said. She practically salivated over the box of books. “You’ve done your part. I’ll wrangle them gals into coughing up the money for them Defibrillators.”

“Exterminator,” Kate was tempted to say, but chose otherwise. Red was doing Kate a huge favor and she knew it.

“My ex came back.”

Kate glanced up at Red.

“Said he’s ready to reconcile. But that’s just his way of admitting that he’s tired of chasing tail. Told him that young hussy would wear him out, but you can’t talk sense into a man when he’s in heat. That’s a line from the last chapter, by the way.”

“Last chapter?” Kate remarked.

“Of that novel.” Red nudged the box of books with her biker boot. “You know?
In Heat?”

“Oh. I stopped reading it. I, ah . . . lost interest.” Kate swallowed hard and thought about what she’d said, knowing that she didn’t quite believe her own words.

The truth was, on her way home from Ocracoke she found herself doing nothing
but
thinking of Stu Summers. In the heat of the argument on the sailboat she felt convinced she was right, that she
had
been used and taken advantage of. Just as she’d been on her wedding day. And the editorial bubble comments in the margins of his manuscript suggesting Kate was manipulative, high-strung and at times, shrill, had stung. But with time to reflect, she also wondered if she had acted too quickly. Maybe Stu was right. Maybe the fact he found her interesting enough to be included in his novel should be considered a compliment. On the other hand, a man always thinks that if he can talk to you, says the right things and pours on the charm, he can convince you of anything. Staring at the box of books at her feet, Kate felt utterly lost as to what to do next.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t dropped dead with a heart attack by now.”

Kate’s attention drifted back to her stun gun client. “Who?”

“My ex. All that running around can’t be good for his heart.”

“So you’re considering letting him move back in?” Kate wasn’t sure why she felt the need to ask. It wasn’t like she cared if Red and her ex got back together, though the fact that Kate’s client would consider taking back a cheating husband did make Kate look a little more harsh and unforgiving toward Stu. After all, except for the business with the manuscript, he’d been nothing but a gentleman.

“I don’t know,” said Red. “Maybe. At their age, the boys need their dad around for more than a few days a month. If I learned anything from reading Stu Summers, it’s that forgiveness covers a multitude of sins and is the key to a happy marriage.”

“You know, on my drive home today, some famous couple’s therapist I’ve never heard of was on the radio saying how a couple is better off arguing and saying really nasty things to one another. It keeps them from shoving their true feelings under the surface.”

“You need both: brutal honesty and forgiveness.” Red winked. “Otherwise there’s no makeup sex.”

The mental image of Red’s bubba husband parading around a bedroom naked sent Kate’s mind reeling. If she’d been even remotely hungry before, all thoughts of food were gone. “Well, then,” she said, “I guess I’m not there yet.” Kate pointed at the books. “You need a hand taking those to your car?”

“Truck. And no. I got a laundry basket of dirty clothes waiting for me that weighs more than this.”

Kate shifted her thoughts from Red and her husband to lying on the pristine beaches of Nassau. “So we’re set? You’ll give the ladies their books and remind them I really, really,
really
need their cash by noon tomorrow?”

Red rolled her eyes. “I said so, didn’t I?” She crossed her arms over her ample middle. “Look, girl, if I were you, I’d forget about them stun guns and set my sights on Stu Summers. He’s the real deal.” She shook her head as though looking at Kate like was looking at a pitiful dog dying in the middle of the road. “But that’s just me.”

“Thanks for the advice. I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied in a way that suggested she would not keep Red’s advice in mind.

Somehow Kate managed to wait until Red was gone before she fell apart. She had secretly hoped her client might bring cash for the books. Or at least a check for Red’s copy. Any amount of money would have been nice, given the fact that she was nearly maxed-out on her credit card and been kicked out of her condo.
But when it rains …

Kate pulled on the hood of her poncho, cinched the strings, and started toward the parking lot. She could no longer tell where the heavy mist stopped and her tears began. She’d overreacted with Stu, just like the night of her wedding, and said things she couldn’t take back. Unlike her pathetic first husband, Stu
had
appeared to be genuinely sorry. Why hadn’t she acted on that instead of giving him no other choice other than to take her to shore and put her out? And what did her reaction say about her except that she was prideful and thought more of herself than the feelings of others—even someone she might possibly be falling in love with. She was, after all, the one who went to him. All he ever did was accommodate her. Like he’d said … a place to sleep, a ride on his yacht, nice conversation over some pretty good wine …

Him …Stu Summers … and her … a nobody. A nobody with no place to lay her head. Sort of like the baby Jesus story, Kate told herself. Not that she believed in virgin births, miracles, or that - if there
was
a God - He cared one iota about her.

When she reached her Miata, Kate unlocked her door and slid behind the wheel. The tiny interior of the sports car felt cramped and damp. She gripped the wheel with both hands as a wave of fear washed over her. She found it hard to believe that she gave up a yacht and beach cottage for sleeping in a Miata. Which, Kate recalled with the greatest level of irony, came from an old German word meaning “reward.”

Some reward.
More like punishment … because, maybe, she
had
used Stu Summers just as much as he’d used her.

Some pair.

For a few moments she stared at the whites of her knuckles as the pressure within her chest built, a lump rising in her throat. She paused for a moment, her eyes filling with tears. She wiped them with her finger. Through blurred eyes she felt her heart beating funny, an erratic fluttering inside her chest. She was having a heart attack. She knew it. Brought on, no doubt, by her self-inflicted broken heart.

Kate waited for the numbing of her left arm. The crushing pain in her chest. Waiting with, not fear, but anticipation. The hurt would end and that would be that. They’d find her dead and they’d be sorry. Every last one of them … including Stu Summers.

But nothing came. No numbing. No sharp pain. Just the ache of loneliness that comes from suspicion, doubt, and years of distrust. “Oh God, what’s happening to me?” she wailed, draping her arms across the rim of the steering wheel. “Please help.”

She rested her head on her arms and sobbed.

* * *

Sunday evening arrived with a hard, steady rain and a howling wind out of the north. Stu awoke from his nap with the conviction he would never see Kate again. He wondered how he could ever be happy without her. Instead of bounding out of his bunk, he lay on his back, listening to the rain drumming the hatch over his head. She was gone and that was that. Time to move on.

Kicking off the bed sheet, he crawled from his forward bunk and ambled into the main salon. Even with all the deck hatches dogged and ports closed, he still felt a chilly dampness working its way through the cowl vents. Stu grasped the companionway hatch and peeked out. Thickening gray clouds matched his dreary mood. Gusts blew sheets of rain sideways across the harbor, causing the lines on his sailboat to groan under the strain.

The smart move would be to remain aboard and write. But the lingering smell of Kate’s perfume would not let him rest. He stood with his hands resting atop the teak boards of the companionway and recalled the way she had lounged on the cushions, arms draped across the backrest, legs tucked one under the other.

Shake it off, he thought.

Instead, he strolled down the narrow corridor toward the aft cabin. Though she’d carefully remade her bunk, he found himself adjusting the pillow. A stray strand of hair caught his eye. He leaned down, inhaled the scent of shampoo lingering on the pillowcase, and felt his heart shudder.

Whirling, he returned to the main salon and shoved his laptop into a waterproof backpack. One of the perks of wealth was “the good stuff” and the North Face backpack kept everything dry, including his computer. Stu slipped on a bright red foul-weather jacket and stepped into the cockpit. Two boats over, a dockhand tried to corral a motor yacht as it crabbed sideways against the current. The dockhand kept yelling at the skipper to calm down and use the bow thrusters. His warning went unheeded. Like my warning to Kate to calm down, Stu thought. He stepped off the boat and onto the floating dock, then hurried across the street to Blackbeard’s Bistro.