Waterfront Weddings (49 page)

“You don’t need to do that.” The color leeched from her cheeks.

“It’s no problem.” He leaned an elbow on the counter and invaded her personal space.

“Really, I’ll be there without someone playing babysitter.”

“Doesn’t matter. I always keep my promises.” He stood. He hadn’t meant the jab that accompanied the words, yet by her stiffening, she’d caught it all the same. “I’ll come at seven.”

“But the studio is open until then.”

“Not tonight.” He shrugged as he moved toward the door. “You know how it is. Gerald snaps his fingers and gets what he wants.”

Jonathan didn’t have to look back as he left to feel the heat of her gaze.

After a full afternoon plotting with the manager at a local B&B that couldn’t afford its own event planner, he scrubbed his face and then swiped his teeth with a toothbrush. The effort wasn’t for Alanna. He needed to look his best if he wanted the foundation to hire him. And as he looked at his calendar, he needed the business to fill out his late summer. Otherwise it had the makings of a slim year. Unless he started working out of his cabin, he didn’t have places left to cut back. Like it or not, Alanna had to come with him to the foundation. He couldn’t afford annoying Gerald Tomkin.

He hurried down the stairs and onto the street. He needed to get to the studio before she left. Knowing her, she’d try to escape before he arrived.

The studio’s lights flashed off as he approached. He waited in front, and a moment later Alanna opened the door and turned to lock it. She spun around then jumped back with a squeak.

“Jonathan!” She pressed a hand over her heart then reached out and smacked him. “Are you trying to scare me?”

He rubbed his chest and frowned. “No.”

She sighed, and a bit of the stiffness eased from her shoulders. “Well you did. I really don’t need you to babysit me.”

He offered his arm. “I won’t bite.”

Alanna eyed his arm then decided it would be okay for the short walk. She filled the space with small talk as they walked to the foundation building. A few bikes lined the rack in front.

“How many people serve on the board?” Alanna licked her lips as she examined the bikes.

“Eight. The tried-and-true island lovers.”

“So they’ll all know me.”

He heard the unsaid “and my history” and wanted to throttle her. “Someday you have to shed that, Alanna.”

“Sure. As soon as men like Gerald Tomkin don’t look at me with knowing in their eyes. You have no idea what that’s like. I’ve decided to find the truth so I can put that day behind me. It’s time.”

“More than time.”

“I’ve heard you each time you’ve said that.” She removed her hand from his arm and studied the building. “Might as well get this over with. Guess I have ‘fool’ stamped on my forehead.”

“What?”

“There’s no other reason I’d do this.” She marched up the stairs, her flat slippers echoing against the wood.

“What about your heart to help anytime you can? You always jumped in to causes.”

“I guess that hasn’t changed.” She said it with an eye roll, but he was glad. That was the part of her he’d first fallen in love with. Well, after her long legs and beautiful smile.

The moment she stepped through the door, Alanna knew she should leave. This wasn’t where she wanted to be. Not now. Not with Jonathan next to her. They’d look like a couple to all the people who’d known her as a teen. But some things couldn’t begin again, and she couldn’t erase the past.

Instead of a reception area, there was a thin desk with a laptop and phone. In front of it sat two folding chairs. A short hallway fed off that room, and a light shone from a doorway.

“It’s this way.”

“I know.” She brushed past Jonathan, only mildly regretting taking out her anxiety on him. He might not deserve it at the moment, but give him a few minutes, and he’d say or do something that would make her forget he could still be sweet.

As she entered the hall, the soft murmur of voices filtered toward her. She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath.
Help me do this, Lord
.

Steps approached the doorway, and a moment later Gerald Tomkin stepped in front of her. “There you are. I was about to call the cavalry.”

“No worries. Jonathan ensured I got here.”

“Even though she didn’t need me.” Jonathan stuck out his hand, and Mr. Tomkin gave it a quick pump.

“Come in, come in.” He clapped his hands together as soon as they were in the room, and the conversations around the table ceased. “You remember Alanna Stone. She’s agreed to fill her dad’s spot on the board until he returns.”

A few folks had the courtesy to wear pasted-on smiles, but Alanna sensed they wanted her here even less than she wanted to join them. She studied Mr. Tomkin’s profile. Why would he insist?

She glanced around the table and smiled when she reached Mr. Hoffmeister. “I didn’t know you were on the board.”

“From time to time.” He patted the vacant chair next to him. “I do my part.”

Alanna squeezed around the oak table and slid into the chair. “Thanks.”

“You need to come back by the shop.”

“Maybe now that the weekend’s over. Bet you sold lots of fudge.”

“Enough.” He pointed his chin at Mr. Tomkin standing at the head of the table. “He’ll keep us here all night if we aren’t vigilant.”

“Sounds fun.”

The older man snorted then shook his head. “You always did have a sharp way with words.”

If he only knew. That’s one thing that made her effective in the courtroom, but not so much in the studio.

The meeting started, and Alanna held back her surprise when Jonathan didn’t sit at the table. Instead, he leaned against the wall, a position that looked more uncomfortable as the meeting droned on and he stifled a yawn. Alanna shifted against the seat, frowning as the faux leather squeaked. She felt like a kid again, trapped in another of Mr. Tomkin’s unending classes. It didn’t look like he intended to have any more mercy on her now than he did then.

A yawn stretched her mouth, and she snagged a glance at her watch. Nine o’clock? No wonder it felt like she’d sat there forever and a day. She slumped back against the headrest.

“Are we boring you, Alanna?” Mr. Tomkin’s pointed words jerked her upright.

“No, sir.”

“Good. Is there any other business?” He looked around the room, but everybody shook their heads until he reached Bette Standeford. “Yes?”

“I thought we planned to discuss Mr. Covington’s proposal.”

“That’s at the next meeting.”

Jonathan straightened at his words, and a frown tugged his face down. “If we wait, I won’t have enough time to get everything implemented.”

“Tonight we have to focus on the lilac festival. We’ve got to raise some money, or there won’t be anything left to give.”

Mr. Hoffmeister leaned close to Alanna, the rich scent of chocolate making her stomach rumble. “That I don’t understand.”

“What?”

“I thought there was extra in the account before he took over.” Hoffmeister rubbed his eyes. “I’ve never much liked numbers. But Gerald’s comments have me rethinking the books.”

Mr. Tomkin cleared his throat. “Anything you’d like to share, Tony?”

Mr. Hoffmeister skewered Mr. Tomkin with a glare before waving his hand. “Not at the moment.”

“We’ll wait with bated breath.”

“I bet you will,” Mr. Hoffmeister muttered under his breath then glanced at Alanna. “Sorry about that. We can’t seem to have a civil conversation anymore thanks to his stupid house plans. The island has clear requirements for houses. . .but he’s above it all.” He stopped as if catching himself. “Well, come visit me.”

Alanna nodded, keeping her eyes trained on her old teacher. “Not tonight.”

“As soon as you can. There are things we should discuss.” He stood and edged toward the door. “See you at the next meeting. These old bones have to get home if I’m going to work tomorrow. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

The others took that as their opportunity to escape, too. In a few minutes, the room had emptied, but Alanna remained. Where before she thought the meeting would never end, now she wondered what game Mr. Tomkin was up to and why he’d insisted she attend.

T
here’s something I don’t understand.” Mr. Tomkin didn’t turn from where he stood at the whiteboard working the eraser back and forth across the smooth surface. Alanna waited a moment. Why ignore her?

“You don’t need me.” She glanced around the now-empty boardroom. “The brightest people who live here serve on the board. I don’t add anything.”

“You’re wrong.” He turned toward her and propped his hands on the table. A furrow lined the top of his nose. “Something strange is going on, and we need someone who can dig.”

“Why me? I’ve been gone years. You’re the local stalwart.”

“True.” Something glinted in his expression as he leaned closer. “It has drawbacks. I’ve made my share of enemies. People who think I created the problems. You’re an outsider, just what we need.”

She could see that. The man seemed pricklier under the surface than when she’d known him. “I really don’t have time. . .and won’t be here long.”

“Sure you do. What do you have to do after the studio closes. . .unless you’re spending all your time with Covington?” She bristled as his tone scraped over her. He crossed his arms and stared her down. “Even then this doesn’t require much. Just the skills lawyers have. Here.” He walked to a stack of books. “I just need you to review these.”

Alanna looked down at her stenographer’s notebook. As he’d talked, she’d doodled a series of interlocking circles. That summed up life on Mackinac. The island was small enough the people and events that tried to remain separate ended up bound together, like the ripples a stone makes in the water circling ever outward.

He must have noticed her distraction. He sighed. “It’s late now. I’ll stop by tomorrow with these.”

“All right.” She’d like to stop him, but he’d aroused her curiosity. She wanted to know what those books contained.

A stiff wind blew off the lake as she exited the building. Twilight had melted into darkness, and she wished she’d grabbed her bike rather than walking. Now she’d have to swing by the studio before working her way home. She glanced around, half expecting Jonathan to be waiting near the streetlight, but he wasn’t. She shook away the disappointment. He hadn’t promised he’d wait. She’d hoped though.

She stuck to Main Street where there would be more people and the streetlights cast wide circles of light. Soon the sound of music slipped from the restaurants, and a man stumbled from the first one she passed.

“Hey, gorgeous. Just who I was looking for.” He tripped into her path, and she stepped onto the street to avoid him. One of the taxis pulled to a quick stop behind her, and she raised a hand in apology as she continued on her way. She kept her steps quick and her eyes locked in front of her as she stepped back on the sidewalk. Many of the stores were dark, and she wished for a bit more traffic as she heard the man bumbling behind her. His movements didn’t sound coordinated enough to be a threat, but she kept her eyes peeled for a police officer on bicycle.

Even though she’d decided to discourage Jonathan, right about now she’d love to have him beside her. His strong presence and broad shoulders would deter many from bothering her.

Now she felt exposed. Vulnerable. Alone.

A shiver skittered up her spine, and she picked up her pace. Light poured from several more restaurants, but still no sign of an officer. As she passed I’m Not Sharing Fudge Shop, she glanced in. Mr. Hoffmeister sat on his stool talking to someone on the phone. She waved, but he didn’t notice.

Alanna picked up her pace and crossed the street. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the drunk slouched beneath a lightpost. While his posture said inebriated, his gaze had locked on her. She tossed her hair and scurried around the corner out of his line of sight. Once she reached her bike, she could leave him far behind and hurry home. Did he have anything to do with what happened in her storage shed? She shook the thought free.

All she wanted was the sanctuary inside her childhood home.

Jonathan let the night embrace him as he sat on the rocking chair. His heavy fleece parka kept him warm in the cool air as long as he buried his hands in its pockets. The house next door looked empty from what he could tell through the trees. Should he have waited?