The Shore (13 page)

“Did you know there's buried treasure at the beach?” the four-year-old asked him, wide-eyed.

“Jamie, shh, don't tell him,” the older one warned.

“Why not, Tim?”

“He'll dig it up himself,” said Tim.

Jamie turned to Lucas, and his little forehead furrowed with worry. “You won't, will you?”

“No way, little dude. It's against the pirate's code.”

“See?” Jamie turned to his big brother. “He won't tell.”

“Is it true?” Tim asked, staring at him intently.

Lucas dropped his voice to a whisper. “I've heard some things.”

Tim eyed him suspiciously for a moment and then seemed to make a decision. “We heard it's under the pier.”

“Really?” Lucas pretended to be surprised, “Just where did you get your information?”

“The old guy who sells cotton candy on the boardwalk,” Sabrina explained, rolling her eyes.

“He used to be a pirate!” Jamie exclaimed, wide-eyed.

“He did not, and you're not going under that pier. It's dangerous. Now, just stop talking about it!” Sabrina ordered.

“Sorry guys, looks like you'll have to play Treasure Island some other time,” Lucas told them sympathetically.

Sabrina leaned over the counter, giving him an even better look at what was threatening to spill out of her bikini top. Lucas averted his gaze.

“Funny thing about treasure,” she said. “Sometimes it's right in front of your eyes and you don't even see it.”

“I tend to prefer a more nuanced approach,” he replied.

Sabrina quickly straightened up. “Sounds like you have classic literature on the brain,” she said. Lucas shrugged. She tried to hold his gaze, but he wouldn't let her. Obviously she could be pretty observant when she wanted to be, but that didn't mean he had to answer questions about things he preferred to keep private. Finally she gave up.

“So, we'll take the body boards and these,” she said, laying a pair of $200 Gucci sunglasses on the counter. Lucas had always considered the glasses a joke. He never thought anyone would ever buy them. Two hundred dollars was the price of a good wet suit. Of course, Sabrina had already let everyone in the house know she was rich, so he wasn't that surprised that she could afford them.

“Put it on this,” she said, handing him a gold card.

He read the name on the card. “Victoria Summers.”

“Their mom,” Sabrina said, nodding at Tim and Jamie.

Lucas stared from Sabrina to the sunglasses to the card. He could understand charging the boards to their mother, but he was a little uncertain about the $200 glasses. “You want to give her a call and make sure it's okay?” he asked.

“No, she's working and she doesn't like to be disturbed.
Don't worry, it's fine. It's the card she's been having me use all summer,” Sabrina reassured him.

Lucas decided to keep his misgivings to himself. He had no reason not to trust Sabrina. He swiped the card.

“Curt got you pimping for his band?” she teased, indicating the stack of flyers for STF on the counter.

“Least I can do for a roommate,” Lucas replied with a smile.

Sabrina signed Victoria Summers on the credit card slip. “Then you're going to the concert tonight?”

“Probably. You?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. If there's nothing better to do.”

Lucas almost had the feeling she was trolling for something, but decided to ignore it. There was a crash as the kids knocked over a surfboard in the back of the store.

Tim came running. “Jamie did it! I saw him!”

“No, I didn't!” Jamie cried, chasing his older brother.

Sabrina rolled her eyes at Lucas, who went around the counter to check on the damage. Luckily, the board was one of those cheap, factory-made things that were almost impossible to ding. When he returned to the front of the store, Sabrina was once again studying herself in the mirror. The boys had grabbed their new body boards.

“Dudes, you got to promise me you'll be extra careful when you're using those things,” Lucas said. “There's always got to be a grown-up watching.”

He was speaking more to Sabrina than the kids, but she didn't seem to notice.

“We'll be careful,” Tim said earnestly.

They headed for the door. Sabrina turned and waved. “See you later, maybe.”

Lucas watched them go. Sabrina was definitely not nanny material. He felt sorry for the mother who'd been blind enough to hire her. The boys were okay; they just needed someone to pay attention to them.

Avery popped into his mind. She would've been a good nanny. A good girlfriend, too. He shook his head and once again warned himself not to go there.

Curt chewed nervously on a thumbnail. The band would be performing in forty minutes, and he was worried. Darek, the drummer, was the only one ready and healthy. Austin, their singer, was still complaining about a sore throat, and Bobby the bass player's finger was still wrapped in a bandage. While Bobby insisted he was fine, Curt suspected otherwise.

They'd just finished the sound check when Avery climbed up on the stage and came over to him. She looked great in a lavender tank top, white peasant skirt, and wedge sandals.

“How're you doing? You okay?” she asked him, taking his hands, clearly concerned and hopeful that this would be the break Stranger Than Fiction had been waiting for.

“I'm okay,” Curt lied. “We're going to really shake things up tonight.”

“I know you are,” she said, giving him a kiss.

“Can I get some of that?” Austin asked as he walked by.

“Knock it off, Austin,” Curt said with a smile.

“How come Austin can make comments like that and you smile, but if anyone else does, you get mad?” Avery asked teasingly.

“Because I know he doesn't mean it,” Curt said. He gestured out at the empty space in front of the band shell that would soon be filled, he hoped, with an audience. “Where are you going to stand?”

“Where do I always stand?” she asked.

“Front and center,” he said with a smile.

“Then that's where I'll be, as soon as I get something to eat.”

“Okay, then I'll see you in a little while.”

“Okay,” she said, giving him one last kiss before heading off.

“Curt!” Bobby called.

“Yeah?”

“We opening with ‘Love in a Strange World?”

Curt winced inwardly. That was the song he'd sung to April, the one she'd made him promise he wouldn't sing tonight. And yet it was one of Bobby's favorites. “Uh, lemme think about it,” he said.

“Hey, rock star!” he heard someone call. April was in front of the stage, wearing a low-cut sheer black top with a red necklace that hung provocatively down her chest. Standing above her on the stage, Curt had an unusually good view. Her tight black
skirt hugged her hips. She was wearing only a touch of makeup and a simple pair of earrings.

Wow!
he thought. “Hey, you look great.”

“Thanks,” April said, blushing slightly. “So, you amped?”

Curt nodded despite his worries. “Can't wait.”

Darek joined Curt at the edge of the stage, his eyes wide. “Hey, introduce me to your friend,” he said, his voice sounding husky.

“April, this is our drummer, Darek. Darek, this is April.”

Darek reached down and shook April's hand, lingering over it for a second.

“Who are you?”

“One of my roommates,” Curt said. “The one who writes songs. I told you about her.”

“Oh yeah, the girl who writes like Dylan,” Darek said.

Curt felt his face grow red. That had been a private comment he'd made for Darek's ears only. “Shut up, dude.”

But it was too late. April realized where the compliment must have come from. “I've never been compared to Dylan before.”

“Where are you going to be during the concert?” Darek asked.

“Front and center, with Avery,” Curt answered for her.

“Okay, I guess that's where I'll be,” April said. “I should go. See you guys after the concert?”

“Definitely,” Darek said.

As soon as she was out of sight, Darek turned to Curt.
“What a hottie. Tell me she doesn't have a boyfriend, dude.”

“Forget it, Darek, she's not your type,” Curt told him. “Besides, she's got a boyfriend back home.”

“Too bad,” Darek said.

“Yeah,” Curt agreed.

Five

The outdoor concert had started, and Sabrina was bored. Curt's band wasn't very good. Not that she was totally surprised. The strangest part was that when they played covers, they sounded bearable. People danced and seemed to have a good time. But each time STF started to play and original song, people stopped dancing and just stood around with their brains dribbling out of their ears.

Sabrina gazed around the crowd. Most of her housemates wore pained expressions as if they really wanted to go, but Curt had already managed to make eye contact with everybody and would be pissed if they took off.

The one person who seemed to be enjoying herself was Avery. Some good-looking guy, who Polly said was her boss at the restaurant, was dancing with her. Meanwhile, up on the stage, Curt had a serious frown, but Sabrina couldn't tell if it was because he was jealous or just concentrating on the music.

Curious, Sabrina moved close enough to hear what Avery
and the restaurant manager were talking about while they danced.

“You really should book the band for the Surfin' Spot,” Avery urged.

“I just might,” the handsome manager replied, although Sabrina wasn't sure how sincere he was. “I'll have to wait until the band that's playing there now finishes their contract. But then I'll consider it.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. She was certain he was just trying to play her. Especially the bit about STF.
This band couldn't get a gig to play a funeral, let alone a club.

Sabrina glanced at the stage. Curt was watching Avery, and he looked pissed. Sabrina was pretty sure that was a look of jealousy, not concentration.

The song ended, and the crowd began to mill around.

“Hey, roomies,” Lucas said, leading a new girl by the hand. She was blond and built, wearing a bikini top with spangles on it and a blue sarong. “This is Tara.”

“Uh, hey,” Avery said. Her voice sounded strained, and Sabrina looked at her more closely. Avery was studying the girl in a way that made Sabrina wonder.
Uh-huh, looks like Curt's not the only one who is jealous,
she thought.
Maybe Avery has a thing for surfer boy.

Sabrina glanced around, curious to see what the rest of her roomies were up to. April was standing by herself, looking good, but scaring off any guy who got close. Owen and his idiot friends
were drinking and chatting up some girls with too much makeup and low-cut tank tops.

Owen looked up and glanced at her. Sabrina rolled her eyes toward the night sky.
If you think I'm going to be jealous of those hags, you've got another think coming.

Polly was hanging around them too, and that did make Sabrina curious.
She is so not the type.
Sabrina drifted closer to the group, keeping her ears open.

Polly was wearing a blue and green top, with red capris. As Sabrina moved closer, she heard one of Owen's buddies lean toward a friend and whisper, “She looks like a parrot.”

“And talks like one too,” the other guy whispered back.

Oblivious to what was being said about her, Polly tried to talk to them. “Hey, guys,” she said in a forced and decidedly uncool way. Sabrina tensed as the guys started to smile meanly.

“Go fly away and find yourself a different perch,” one of them said.

“Yeah, Polly Parrot,” the other said. “Get lost.”

Polly took off fast, but not before Sabrina saw the shocked look and tears in her eyes. Well, served her right, Sabrina thought. Parrots were definitely not supposed to share the pool with sharks. Now Owen came over with a look that said he'd witnessed the whole thing.

“Silly girl,” Owen commented.

“Tell me about it.” Sabrina snorted. “I can't believe she thinks
that you or any of your friends would be remotely interested.”

“Hey, with beer goggles on, she might not look so bad.” Owen laughed. “Besides,” he added, slightly more seriously, “it's not like I'm not getting much action anywhere else.”

Sabrina couldn't believe it. “Nice try, but you should know by now that my role in life isn't to provide you with ‘action.' You might think about being more selective instead of trying to jump every girl who walks by.”

“I am selective,” he said, his voice low and intense.

“So selective that it takes you thirty seconds to make a decision,” she said sarcastically.

“You don't see it, but I'm a pretty good judge of character,” Owen said, insisting on being serious.

“Really?” Sabrina asked, indicating the girls with the low-cut tank tops and too much mascara. “'Cause I haven't seen much evidence of that.”

“I picked you, didn't I?” he asked sharply.

“There's always an exception,” Sabrina shot back, gearing up for some nasty repartee.

But instead of a wisecrack, Owen took a deep breath and moved closer to her. “Look, Sabrina, seriously. I know that I don't come off like a prince. But I'm trying. If you knew what my life is like, what kind of crap I had growing up, you might cut me some slack. That first night I got with you because I was into you. I'm still into you. And if you want to know the truth, I haven't slept with anyone else since.”

Sabrina felt the icy defenses inside her start to melt a little. She wanted to believe him. He looked so earnest while he gave his speech. But the beer in his hand and the cheap girls standing behind him making moon eyes at his friends did little to persuade her. “Why should I believe you?” she asked finally.