Hurricanes in Paradise (7 page)

“I didn’t realize how long it had been since I had actually eaten.” She pressed her hands against her stomach. “I’m starving.”

Riley watched as the corners of Tamyra’s mouth rose. But nothing went with it. The heaviness was embedded in her like the seashells in the countertop. “Well, please know that I’m here to do whatever I can to make your stay all that you need it to be. I want you to enjoy every moment you’re here. And I’ll make sure your mother knows you’re okay,” she said with a wink.

Tamyra shook her head. “Good luck with that. You may tell her, but I doubt you’ll convince her.”

“Why, hello there!” Winnie’s voice was both unmistakable and unavoidable.

Riley looked up and watched as Winnie headed their way, the stones on her jacket catching the light and reflecting across Winnie’s face. She could be her own disco ball. Winnie’s face broke out in a captivating smile, stretching her hot pink lips to their maximum potential. None of the grief her children had mentioned was apparent in any measure.

“Hello, Winnie,” Riley said, smiling at the white-haired, petite grandmother of five, her olive skin already pink from the Bahamian sunshine.

“Hey, Riley. Oh, baby girl, what a day this has been,” she said, pulling out the barstool on the other side of Tamyra. “I sat on that balcony, looking out at the beautiful ocean all afternoon. I think I read twenty chapters from my new book. And it had nothing to do with how to keep a high schooler from becoming a hoodlum.”

Riley laughed. “Winnie, this is Tamyra Larsen. Tamyra, this is Mrs. Winnie Harris.”

“Well, how do you do, Miss Tamyra? Aren’t you a beautiful young lady,” Winnie said, extending her hand.

Tamyra reached her long hand out to Winnie’s. “Thank you, Mrs. Harris. Nice to meet you.”

Winnie waved her hand in the air in an exaggerated movement. “Call me Winnie, please. For this entire week I am boycotting
Mrs. Harris
. So just Winnie.”

“Okay, Winnie.”

Riley looked at her watch. It was five after six. From what she had been told of Laine Fulton, she was never late. She glanced over her shoulder. The group of young men had moved to their seats, leaving an empty bar and an unobstructed view of the entrance. There was no Laine.

“You have to be a beauty queen or model or something,” Winnie said.

Riley turned back and watched as Winnie hauled herself onto the stool.

“You’re just too drop-dead gorgeous. I mean seriously. You are a stunning young woman. Now don’t think I’m being weird or anything. I have three beautiful children and was married for fifty years. But you look like a celebrity.”

Tamyra ran her fingers down the side of her glass. “I won a pageant a little while back, but it’s no big deal really.”

“I knew it! I did. I knew it. Well, we’ll keep those boys at bay for you,” Winnie said, patting the top of Tamyra’s hand.

Tamyra moved her hand quickly and responded with as much speed. “I have no interest in boys.”

Winnie sat back in her chair; a slight look of horror crossed her face. “Oh, honey. Don’t tell me that.”

Riley tried not to choke on her drink.

Tamyra corrected the misconception. “I mean I’m not
looking
for a man. I’m completely happy being single.”

A puff of air exploded from Winnie’s lungs. “Oh, thank God.”

Riley knew she needed to intervene. “Tamyra, we’ll let you enjoy your dinner. It was wonderful to see you, and remember what I said,” she said as she stood.

Tamyra turned toward Riley. The gratitude was evident in her eyes. “I will. I definitely will.”

“Winnie, come with me and I’ll make sure they give you a great table.”

“But this young lady doesn’t need to eat alone,” Winnie said.

“She’ll be fine,” Riley assured her.

But Winnie’s attention shifted quickly from Riley. She stared at the entrance with a shocked expression. Riley turned to see what had captured Winnie so completely. Laine Fulton was walking through the door.

* * *

“Oh, my word, that’s Laine Fulton.”

Laine could read the lips of the woman next to Riley. She watched as Riley took the woman by the elbow and led her toward the hostess stand. The woman never took her eyes off of Laine.

“Karin, would you make sure you give Mrs. Harris a lovely table by the window? Over there, by the beautiful picture windows.” Riley nodded toward the far wall. “Then when you get back, could you take me and Ms. Fulton to our seat in the back?”

The hostess gave an exaggerated nod, picked up a menu, and took the bedazzled woman by the arm. “Right this way, Mrs. Harris.”

Mrs. Harris didn’t move. She just stood there. Eyes fixed on Laine. Laine gave her a small smile and a brief nod.

The hostess tugged her slightly. “Mrs. Harris?”

She finally removed her stare from Laine and gave her attention to the hostess. “Yes. Sure. Winnie. Please, call me Winnie.”

Laine watched Riley exhale slowly as she turned toward her. She had obviously been nervous about the attention of this fan. “Hello. Did you get settled in?”

“One of the young men got everything situated for me, yes.”

“I’m so glad. Looks like you got a little bit of our sunshine,” Riley said, touching her own nose.

Laine patted her cheek with the back of her hand. “Yes, I did.”

“September really is a great time of year to come. Plus, it’s quieter. Which is nice if you’re willing to risk a hurricane.”

Laine’s brow furrowed. “Are you expecting a hurricane?” She had checked the weather before she left.

“There’s a disturbance out there right now. But we’ll just keep our eyes on it. We always know in plenty of time.”

“Well, I’ve got too much work to do to worry about some wind and rain.”

Riley raised her eyebrows.

“I’ve lived through the earth moving, Riley. I can handle a hurricane. So should we get sequestered indoors, we’ll simply use that time to learn the
inner
workings of the Atlantis.”

Riley’s expression made it clear she hadn’t bargained for so much of her time being taken up. The hostess interrupted. Riley looked grateful. “We have your table ready, ladies.”

“Great,” Riley said, her excitement a little too revealing.

“Right this way.”

Riley motioned for Laine to go in front of her. On the walk to the table, Laine took in every nuance of the restaurant. It was filled with bold splashes of color: mustard yellows and royal blues. The fabrics contrasted in subtle yet whimsical waves from cowhide fabric–backed chairs to smooth red leathers all infusing the Southwestern touch chef Bobby Flay was known for. The grill sat as if it were a stage from where all the productions of the evening would flow.

The hostess pulled out Laine’s chair. She sat, ran her hands across the soft white linen tablecloth, and turned the sleek contemporary silverware beneath her fingers. Everything on the table had clean and simple lines, allowing the food to be the center of attention.

Laine reached into her bag and pulled out a notepad. “Beautiful restaurant.”

“We’re told it is his best so far.”

“I’d have to agree. I think I’ve eaten in most,” Laine said as she turned her head toward the other side of the restaurant. She let her gaze wander among the diners as Riley’s gaze followed her. There was a letting down that occurred in places like these. She could see it in the way people touched, discoursed, and laughed. Vacation bred relaxation. And it was evident all over the dining room. “Do you ever wonder about the stories behind people who dine alone?” Laine’s eyes were on the woman who had been enamored of her earlier.

Riley turned quickly as if she knew who had Laine’s eye. A huge smile spread across the woman’s face when she saw them looking at her. Then she waved. Riley gave a quick nod and turned back to Laine.

“You know her.”

“Yes, Winnie Harris. She’s a guest. I’ve been asked to keep an eye on her for the week.”

Laine sensed her uneasiness. “Really? Am I keeping you from her?”

Riley shook her head. “No, no. She’s here on vacation. Her family just asked me to make sure she enjoys herself.”

Laine nodded over Riley’s shoulder again. “What about her? The stunning, young African American.”

Riley didn’t turn. Evidently she knew her too. The young woman paid them no attention. Her elbow rested on the table, her head in her palm, a menu lying in front of her. “Yes, she’s another one I’ve been asked to take care of this week. Her family is concerned about her too.” Riley ran her hands down the side of her place mat. “Truth be told, I am as well.”

Laine saw Riley’s countenance shift. “Is she in trouble?”

Riley shook her head as if she had said too much. “Oh no. I doubt it’s anything like that. Just a concerned mother.”

“Invite them to eat with us.”

Riley let out a slight chuckle, then picked up her napkin and laid it in her lap. “Trust me, I don’t think you would want that. Mrs. Harris over there is apparently a big fan of yours, and I’m not sure that you would have the opportunity to eat.”

“You’d be surprised. Once you get people talking about themselves, you don’t really have to do much talking. Plus, some of my best character ideas come from real people and real stories.” Laine picked up the drink menu and studied it. She raised her green eyes above the top of her menu and locked them on Riley. “Invite them.”

Riley fidgeted in her seat. “You’re sure?”

“Invite them.” She made it clear that this time it wasn’t a suggestion. Laine needed an evening with strangers. She needed enough people to carry on conversations so she wouldn’t have to. And one of them seemed like the ideal candidate.

Riley scooted her chair back and headed to Tamyra first, probably because she would be the harder one to lure. After what seemed like much coaxing, Riley and Tamyra walked over to Winnie’s table. Winnie had her butt half out of her seat before they even got to her.

Winnie eagerly pulled at the leather chair on the other side of Laine and plopped down, bouncing slightly as she did. Riley tried to hide her snicker. Laine could tell Riley didn’t think she knew what she had gotten herself into. What little Miss Riley didn’t know was that Laine Fulton was a master study in people. And she had already discerned she really didn’t like Riley Sinclair.

* * *

Riley couldn’t understand Laine wanting to invite strangers to have dinner with her. But she had never really understood Californians. They wore black all the time or shades thereof. Apparently thought earthquakes and hurricanes were part of daily life. And thought anyone who had an accent different from their own held a slightly lower IQ. At least that’s what Laine’s tone seemed to imply.

“Oh my, what a delightful treat. I am having dinner with Laine Fulton,” Winnie said, leaning toward Laine and patting her hand as if Laine might not even know who she was. “
The
Laine Fulton.”

The waiter walked over, apparently aware that the dynamics of his table had just changed. “Hello, ladies.”

“We’ve some additions,” Riley said. “You might want to let the other waiters know we pulled from two tables over there.” She knew what it felt like to have guests change their minds on you.

“That’s no problem. Can I get you ladies something to drink?”

Everyone paused and looked at Laine as if she should begin. She took the cue. “How about watermelon martinis for the table,” she said, setting the menu down.

Winnie reached over and placed her hand atop Laine’s again. Riley watched Laine’s face tighten. Apparently conversation she could do; personal contact, not so much. She waited for her to pick up Winnie’s hand and set it back by her plate. “Oh, honey. I can’t. I’m Baptist. I always talk about drinking but haven’t had a drop in my life.” She looked up at the waiter. “Do you have sweet tea by any chance, darlin’?”

“No, ma’am. We only have unsweetened tea.”

“You don’t get any more Southern than this unless you want to go to Cuba. You’d think sweet tea would be everywhere,” she said, pulling her hand back to her side of the table. Riley watched the muscles in Laine’s face relax. “I’ll have unsweetened. That’s fine. Sugar is sugar, right, ladies?” she said, picking up a packet from the sugar holder and waving it slightly.

Tamyra spoke next. “I’ll just stick with Perrier, thank you.”

“And thank you for the offer, Laine. Honestly,” Riley said. “But I think I’ll just have ice water, if you wouldn’t mind, Derrick.”

Derrick nodded his head and turned toward Laine.

“Like I said, Derrick. I’ll have a watermelon martini.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be right back with your drinks, ladies.”

“Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about spending the evening with a bunch of lushes,” Laine said. The ladies laughed in unison. “So you’ve never had a drink in your life, Winnie?”

Winnie looked at Laine. “No, sugar. Not in all of my years. I’ve thought about becoming a sop a time or two, threatened my husband with it for most of my marriage.” She laughed softly. Riley watched her face. It shifted as if she was remembering. She shook her head slightly and her voice found its life again. “But no. It was against my religion for years. Now I just don’t do it because I’m trying to keep my streak going.”