Hurricanes in Paradise (26 page)

“You’ve got to let it go, Riley. Once and for all. Then maybe you’ll be free to love again. I know I’m hardly the person to be giving advice on this topic, but there it is.”

The tears rushed out of Riley again with even greater force this time. “I think you’re right. That’s why I never went back.” She’d never admitted the truth before, but now it seemed so obvious. “I never went back to him because I felt like he deserved so much more than me. That he didn’t need to spend the rest of his life with a tainted wife on his arm.”

“Oh, Riley. What messes we’ve both made of our love lives. But it’s not too late. I’ll go get Mitchell and try to undo what I’ve done, and you can start living again by going out with this beautiful man who is crazy about you.”

Riley felt a smile creep across her face. The cold trail on her cheeks moved as she did. “I really like him.”

“I can see that you do. So go.”

Riley picked up her napkin and dabbed at her face again. “I should, shouldn’t I?”

“You absolutely should.”

“I haven’t had a date in ten years! What do you wear? What do you do? How do you act?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t had a date in fifteen years. Just an affair. Now if you asked me who the man in my life was, I’d say it was Google. That’s who I spend most of my time with.”

Riley’s eyes bugged. Then laughter permeated the restaurant. And the storm brewing on the horizon was completely forgotten.

15

Wednesday afternoon . . .

Tamyra had sneaked away from Winnie long enough to set her plan in motion. Winnie was basking in the glow of her third virgin watermelon daiquiri and was on such a sugar high, she was entertaining strangers. Proof that you didn’t have to be drunk to loosen up. Tamyra had called Albert that morning and asked him to meet her in the lobby at one thirty for a few minutes. He had been undeniably gracious, and his Southern kindness seeped through the receiver. He was also prompt, she noticed, as he stood waiting when she rounded the corner.

Albert extended his hand. “You must be Tamyra.”

Tamyra looked at the dapper older man almost at eye level. With her two-inch heels, she virtually matched his six-foot stature. He was neatly packaged—pressed khaki shorts, ironed blue Izod short-sleeved shirt, and refined leather loafers. His white hair and crystal blue eyes were as striking as Winnie’s and his skin just as olive. How Winnie could have freaked out over this kind and distinguished gentleman was beyond her understanding. It had been three years and Winnie still hadn’t let go. Well, she had told Winnie her story and had felt for the first time in two months like the world might not actually end. Now it was time for Winnie to live her own life.

Music and wind whipped around them. She took Albert’s hand and wrapped it in both of hers. Something she had done since she was little. She always wanted people to know they mattered. Two hands said, “You really matter.” She hadn’t put two hands around someone else’s in two months. The revelation made her smile. “Thank you so much for meeting me.” She nodded toward the other end of the hall and began to lead him along the wide corridor toward the overlook of the ocean.

“Well, you said you were a friend of Winnie’s. Though I had the assumption she was traveling alone.”

“Oh, she is. We’ve only met since we’ve been here. But she has told me about you.” Well, it wasn’t a lie.

He cocked his head toward her. “She did, huh? That kind of surprises me because she acted like a scared schoolgirl the other day when she saw me.”

Tamyra patted his arm. “Oh no, she was just surprised. Just caught her off guard seeing you all the way over here.”

“She’s a wonderful lady.”

“Yes, she is. She’s a treasure.”

“So y’all just met?”

Tamyra laughed at the absurdity of it all. The way she felt about this woman was as if they had known one another forever. “About four days ago. Or three and a half.”

His look registered no surprise. “She has a captivating way about her, doesn’t she?” He couldn’t hide his regard.

“
Captivating
is a perfect word. So I was thinking—” she nudged him slightly—“Winnie is still kind of shy and everything . . .”

“Winnie shy?”

She bit her lip, hating that she had just used that word. “Well, no, not shy. . . . I mean, she just wouldn’t want to intrude on you during your stay, but I know she would love to have dinner with you.”

“I’ve been Winnie’s neighbor for years. I’ve never known her to care about intruding.”

Tamyra wasn’t doing too well. “Well, you know, she is mellowing in her . . . mature age.”

He smiled. The deep wrinkles in the corners of his eyes stretched out like waterways. “Good choice of words.”

“So tonight, I was thinking, maybe I could make you some reservations at Seafire Steakhouse at six. Winnie loves beef, so I’m sure it would be right up her alley.”

He stopped and turned toward Tamyra. “Are you sure Winnie Harris would want to have dinner with me?”

Tamyra wished she had been an actress instead of a beauty pageant winner. “I’m certain. She hasn’t really said it just like that, but I can tell.”

“So basically you’re saying you’re setting this whole thing up and she has no idea.”

She was so busted. She bit the inside of her lip. She was going to need reconstructive surgery before this conversation was over. “Yes, but . . .”

He shook his head slowly. “You’re a sweet girl with good intentions, I’m sure. But I can’t be a part of that. But you are very kind to offer. Now, it’s been nice to meet you, Miss Tamyra.” He gave her a genuine smile and turned to go.

Before she knew what she was doing, she grabbed him by the arm. His skin was warm beneath her fingers. “I know. I know it’s probably not the best idea. But she needs this. She doesn’t realize all that she needs. Trust me. Most of us broken people don’t know until we get it. And she needs to laugh, Mr. Wilson. She needs to have a good conversation with a gentleman. It will be healing for her. Look at it this way: you will be doing her a favor whether she asked for it or not.”

He raised his gray eyebrows at her. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I’m hoping that means yes.”

“If she runs out of the restaurant, I will blame you.”

“I’ll blame me too. But I know, if I can just get her there, she will enjoy herself.”

“Six o’clock, you said?”

“Six o’clock.”

“Seafire Steakhouse?”

“Buy her half a cow and she’ll be your friend forever.”

They both laughed. “You should go into the matchmaking business, Miss Tamyra.”

She laughed out loud. Yes, the woman who picked out men who abused her and left her with terminal illnesses. Oh yeah, matchmaking was definitely her calling.

* * *

A stack of papers was waiting on Riley’s desk. All of the new reservations had been taken care of for Max’s special guests. An additional table would be set up for the concert and all would be well in the world of VIPs. She pulled out the final e-mail printout and realized quickly it was a personal message to Mia. She didn’t intend to read it, but the abruptness of the first line jumped out at her.

You know what is expected of you. We didn’t let you travel halfway across the world to be someone’s assistant.

She scanned it briefly and caught the signature. It was from Mia’s mother. Riley heard Mia’s voice coming from the foyer. She quickly stuck the e-mail back on the bottom of the pile, picked up the stack, and headed to the door. She walked into the lobby, where Mia was talking with a guest.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Riley said to the lady standing in front of the frosted glass counter, then turned to Mia. “It all looks good. I think there was something personal in there for you, but I just left it at the bottom. Didn’t want to be nosy. Have a great night.”

“Thank you,” Mia said.

Riley walked into the lobby. Mia’s mother must be a tyrant. She should be happy with what her daughter had accomplished. They’d had fifty applicants for this job. Mia had outshone them all. If she could see her in her position, she’d know that Mia did her job well. Very well. If Riley ever talked to the woman, she’d tell her just that.

16

Wednesday evening . . .

Riley’s closet looked like the aftermath of a hurricane. The real one headed their way couldn’t do as much damage as what surrounded her. Clothes lay in crumpled piles at her feet, shoe boxes were scattered about, and she sat in the middle of it all.

“I haven’t had a date in ten years,” she said to the shoe she held in her hand. “I don’t know how to act, let alone how to dress. This is crazy.” She picked up a green shirt from the pile, held it in front of her, and then tossed it to the side.

She felt a lump form in her throat. Laine was right. She had never thought she was worth loving. Not after all she had done. All she had screwed up. Even though Josalyn had told her for years that “If Jesus could love you, no one else has any excuse worth giving not to.”

She didn’t necessarily agree with that and hadn’t believed it. She still didn’t believe it. Not really. If Christian—or any man for that matter—truly knew her, he couldn’t love her.

She picked herself up off the floor and tugged at a pair of jeans. At least she had part of her outfit picked out. By the time she left the house, she had picked out a shirt too, which, from where she had begun, was no small feat. The polished cotton, puffed sleeve, wraparound blouse complemented the white stitching in her jeans. A blue stone cross hung from her neck, and her black hair hung in abandoned curls. With the tightness in her chest, it was a good thing something was abandoned tonight, or Riley would make for a very dull girl.

* * *

Mitchell’s voice mail greeted Laine—again. The second time today. She was afraid he was avoiding her. Unlike him, she knew. He didn’t avoid anything. But after their conversation on Saturday, she couldn’t blame him. He had no idea why she was calling and probably was tired of hearing anything she had to say. But he had said, “The next call will have to be made by you.”

She hung up again without leaving a message. She just couldn’t. These things could not be told in a recorded voice mail. If she couldn’t tell him face-to-face, she at least needed to connect with him in person on the phone. Maybe she should just wait until she got home to tell him. She shook her head at the thought. If the man who had called her Saturday still had an ounce of love for her, she knew he’d want to know this now. Plus, she had never been good at waiting. That’s why when she did things, they were usually swift and extreme. She had never been good at doing things in halves. She was a whole kind of girl. She slipped the phone into her purse and headed out the door to meet Tamyra and Winnie for dinner. She thought briefly about Riley and her date. She looked at her watch. He would have picked her up by now. It had been a long day for Riley. Shoot, it had been a long week for Riley and it was only Wednesday. She had tortured the poor soul the entire first part of it.

Laine slipped out the door, glanced to the ceiling. “Give her a good one, please. She really deserves it.”

* * *

Tamyra fidgeted in the foyer of the suites. “You okay, ma’am?” Gerard asked.