Down and Out in Flamingo Beach (14 page)

“You wouldn't consider going to Pelican Island U?” Joya asked, her brain already calculating what she would do about getting Granny J reliable help.

“I asked LaTisha what she thought about that idea…”

“LaTisha? You're in touch with her?” Joya hadn't thought the two were friends. They were different as night and day.

“Yeah, every now and then I see her. She misses working at the shop.”

“That's a surprise.”

The phone rang and the conversation was tabled. Joya braved the sawdust and paint fumes and went inside to answer. Sticking a finger in one ear, she tried her best to tune out the sounds of hammering. She was keenly aware of Derek's presence and could feel his eyes on her, but kept her mission in mind. She made it to the phone seconds before the answering machine picked up and made a note to purchase another cordless.

“Joya's Quilts.”

“Hey, it's Emilie. Why are you shouting?”

“We're under construction, remember?”

“So you are,” Emilie said. “I tried your cell but you didn't answer. I may have found the perfect job for you. It's not quite what you were looking for, but it's got possibilities. It's yours if you want it. I've already put in a good word for you.”

Emilie explained that the banquet manager at the Flamingo Beach Spa and Resort needed an assistant. This person would help book events and act as a liaison with decorators and caterers. The pay wasn't huge, but the position might lead to other things.

It figured an offer like this would pop up when Granny still wasn't up to running her shop. Tempting as it was, Joya didn't plan on abandoning her, not until she was a hundred percent recovered and the renovations were finished. And even then Granny would need help. She needed someone to help keep the books.

Timing was everything. And this timing was bad.

“O
kay, Morris, break's over. We've got windows to install and they've got to get done today.”

“Yes, boss.”

The worker peeled himself off the floor where he was sitting playing solitaire, and returned to the job that he'd been in the middle of before giving himself a break.

Derek had a tight deadline to meet. He needed to get the renovations at Joya's Quilts completed. For his own reasons he was reluctant to hand the project over. And he was pushing the crew like crazy to finish up. Quills had already been completed and the work at All About Flowers was almost done. A few of the crew were putting the finishing touches on the Vintage Place. But Derek was predicting the quilt shop would turn out to be the nicest of them all.

Shore Construction had won the bid to build those waterfront villas at the Flamingo Beach Resort. Every possible worker and then some would be needed on the job and Preston was already considering hiring more people. He was dangling a huge bonus under Derek's nose to get Joya's completed in the next week or so. That bonus would be used to finish up Nana's house.

There was another reason Derek wanted Joya's Quilts done. Granny J needed to feel needed. Having workers underfoot and the general disorder were taking their toll. She was calling on Joya more and more for every little thing, and Joya was beginning to look worn.

She'd banned the old lady from entering the store because she was worried that the sawdust and paint fumes would hinder her recuperation. Of course, keeping Granny J out of the store was nearly impossible. She'd kicked up a fuss and demanded more attention. Joya spent most of her time running back and forth between the shop and Granny J's house. She had little time for anything else, including him.

That was all going to change tonight. He would make sure of that. Derek planned on knocking off early, getting home, getting some shuteye and then taking a long shower. He would make one of his more reliable men crew boss and leave him explicit instructions. Tonight at Chere and Quen's wedding, it was going to be all about Joya and Derek.

He'd realized why the attraction was so strong—in so many ways they were similar. Both were devoted to elderly relatives and both really cared about the town. They liked the same foods and music, laughed at the same jokes and in bed they really got along. When Joya let loose she was lots of fun. Belle liked her and Nana Belle did not like everyone, so that counted for something.

Derek put his hard hat back on and focused on the ceiling he was raising with the help of two of the crew. Once that roof was raised they were going to add a loft that would overlook the main floor. It would be used for storage and as a place to display quilts. He worked like a demon for the next couple of hours before throwing in the towel.

“Be sure to clean up and lock up when you leave,” he said to the men and began gathering his tools.

“I'll take care of everything, don't you worry, suh,” the guy he'd promoted to crew boss said.

Assured that work would continue in his absence, he left them.

Derek had an hour to get himself together and pick Joya up. He'd considered renting a car and then decided against it. This wasn't about making a big impression. If she didn't care to arrive at a wedding in a truck then she won't like his lifestyle anyway. He supposed he could ask her to drive that sporty red Beemer of hers. But why? He had no one to impress.

Nana Belle with her acute hearing heard him the moment he put his key in the lock.

“You're home early, boy,” she called from the back room. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, ma'am. I'm going to that wedding I told you about.”

“You taking that girl?”

Derek entered his own room before shouting back, “What girl?” He knew that would get her going.

“That pretty granddaughter of Mrs. Hamill's.”

“Yeah, I'm taking Joya.”

Derek shut his bedroom door and began peeling off clothes. He didn't have much time left to shower and dress and he still had to go get Joya.

After a quick shower, he pulled out one of his old designer business suits from the back of his closet. It had set him back several hundred bucks but fell just the way he liked it.

Mari had been nice enough to iron the light-blue shirt and gray-and-blue striped tie that matched. She'd also polished his black wingtip shoes. All he had to do was find underwear and socks and begin the business of dressing.

When Derek was done, he brushed his tightly cropped hair and slapped on his favorite cologne.

He was ready to go. He decided to check on Nana Belle before leaving. When he entered the old lady's room, she and Mari were arguing. Mari was, as usual, trying to get Nana to eat and taking quite a bit of guff from the old lady.

“You are one fine young man,” Mari said looking up from spooning broth into his great-grandmother's mouth. “Those women are going to be all over you.”

“What women?” Derek said brushing fluff off his sleeve. “I'm taking a date.”

“Never stopped a woman that I know of,” Mari muttered knowingly.

“You be nice to that girl, hear?” Nana admonished. “You hold out her chair for her and get her a drink. And you take pictures, lots of them. I want everyone to tell me how nice the two of you looked.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Derek didn't have a clue what he was going to do about pictures. He couldn't just stick a camera in one of his pockets or it would ruin the lines of his suit. He'd have to figure out something to appease Belle, maybe bribe the photographer or something and have him mail photos to him.

“Come here and let me straighten your tie,” Nana said, curving a gnarled finger at him.

Derek sat on her bed and allowed her to fumble with the knot at his throat. Belle's arthritic hands did the best that she could and Derek finished up. Derek kissed her cheek.

“You are the best great-gran that a man could ever have. I love you, Nana.”

Tears pooled in Belle's eyes though she struggled to hold them back. She sounded nasal when she said, “Go on, boy. Get! Go enjoy yourself. If that young lady don't realize how lucky she is to have you, then phooey on her.”

Derek wasn't about to correct his grandmother and tell her that he and Joya weren't what she in her day would have called courting. Belle would never understand what a hook-up was, and that he was really taking Joya to the wedding because she'd asked him to.

Outside he slapped his hand on the surface of the shiny pickup truck before bounding into the driver's seat. He'd had it hand-waxed earlier and it had cost him plenty. His baby was prettier than any luxury automobile, and a heck of a lot more functional.

Since there wasn't much traffic it took him ten minutes to go across town, which wasn't bad. Most businesses closed early on Saturday anyway and people took to the beach or headed for backyard barbecues. What else was there to do in a sleepy town like Flamingo Beach, although that was slowly changing? Derek wondered if they'd turn into another Pelican Island with its abundance of jazz clubs and huge African-American library hosting cultural events.

At Flamingo Place Derek pulled up at the guard house and told the guard whom he was there for. His license plate was written down and he was instructed to park in a visitor's spot. His intent was to go right up to Joya's front door as he'd been brought up to do. None of this nonsense about honking a horn out front and waiting for your date to come out.

There was more security at the front desk, this time a woman he vaguely recognized. She gave him a speculative look when he told her he was there for Joya Hamill as if he couldn't possibly be. Then she picked up the phone.

“Ms. Hamill says you're to take a seat and wait. She's on her way down.”

That took care of that. He was to be left cooling his heels in the lobby until Joya showed up.

More annoyed than he was willing to admit, Derek sank onto one of the comfortable sofas. He stretched his legs out and checked his shoes for scuff marks. As the seconds ticked by, he loosened the knot of his tie.

Five minutes and then ten went by. They were going to be late if Joya didn't hurry. The elevator door opened and she was there looking cool, beautiful and very collected. This was a different Joya than he was used to. He'd never seen her so done up before.

Her hair had been swept back from her face and pinned up with shiny clips that sparkled. The severity of the style made her gray eyes look huge. She wore makeup, lots of it, and the earrings that hung to her shoulders jingled when she approached. Derek tried not to gape.

Joya's bare bronzed shoulders were exposed and the turquoise dress clung to every curve and then some. Derek's glance slid to her shapely legs, slyly scoping her out from her sexy sandals and painted toes to her tight calves that bunched as she walked. He'd like nothing better than to take her back to bed and hear those little mewling noises she made when he touched her in a sensitive spot.

Not now—they had a wedding to attend. Maybe if he got lucky later. Right now he needed to remember his manners and find his tongue.

“You look lovely,” he said, taking Joya's hand and bringing it slowly to his lips.

“You mean I've passed inspection?” If it was meant as a jab it went right over his head. He was too busy taking in the package.

“More than passed inspection. You're going to drive every man in that church crazy.”

Joya tapped his arm playfully with her purse. “Just look at you with your fine self. The women are going to be wanting me dead.”

“I doubt that. We'll miss the ceremony if we don't hurry. I'll bring my vehicle around.”

He considered for just a fraction of a second asking her to take her BMW, and then headed for his truck. How would she handle what he was driving? Would she kick up a fuss?

“I'll walk with you,” Joya said, taking his arm.

The female security guard stared at them admiringly. Derek winked at the woman who quickly returned to the magazine she was reading.

By running every amber light, they made it to the Flamingo Beach Baptist Church before the wedding started. The church was filled with guests and those there to gawk. Every pew overflowed with people.

“There might be space next to Tre Monroe,” Derek whispered in Joya's ear. “Do you know him? Why is a newlywed attending a wedding alone?”

“Because his wife Jen is the matron of honor,” Joya whispered back, as arm-in-arm they started up the aisle.

Derek felt every eye on them but maintained his cool, nodding and smiling at those people who were staring. Joya kept her head high and continued on her way. He'd heard that she didn't have many friends in town, and thought it was brave of her to come, given the circumstances. Most would have turned down an invitation to see an ex-husband married.

Tre motioned to the space next to him and slid over. He and Derek were nodding acquaintances. Derek enjoyed the deejay's radio program and admired him for addressing controversial issues that most stayed away from.

As they squeezed into the space, the
Wedding March
started. People craned their necks to watch the bridal party, led by Jen St. George, come up the aisle. Flash bulbs went off. This could not be easy for Joya, Derek realized. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back.

 

Joya hadn't thought it would be this difficult watching her ex-husband wait at the altar to marry another woman. She was no longer in love with Quen, but it didn't make it any easier. Just being in the same church where she'd gotten married was making old memories come alive.

It had taken her back to a time in her life where she'd been self-focused and insistent on having everything just right, from the decorated pews draped in white orchids, to the dancing champagne fountain that played music at the reception. She'd been such a child bride, uncompromising and selfish.

She made herself focus and blanked her expression. Fifty percent of the people here had come to see Chere Adams get married. The other fifty percent were there to watch Joya's reaction. Well, she wouldn't give the busybodies the satisfaction of seeing her lose it.

Granny J had cautioned her right before leaving. “You smile and hold up your head, girl. Hamills are survivors. We're tough as they come.”

She wasn't about to let Granny J down. So, somehow she found the strength to smile as the bridesmaids marched up the aisle in form-fitting satin gowns, every color of the rainbow, accompanied by escorts in stylish tuxedos that matched. Parasols of contrasting colors twirled above the women's heads.

Chere, bringing up the rear, looked beautiful in her ankle-length white dress decorated with sequins and ostrich feathers. Even the bouquet made up of white roses and ostrich feathers was typically her. To some it might seem outlandish, but it was definitely Chere. And Quen, the proud groom, was smiling from ear to ear. Joya had never seen him this happy.

Derek squeezed her hand again. She was glad that he'd come with her. He was being supportive and seemed to understand what she was going through.