Letters and Lace (The Ronan's Harbor Series) (17 page)

Unable to stand it, she finally spoke. “Thank you for not mentioning the permit in front of her,” Sarah said softly. “She’s got enough to deal with right now.”

Benny blew out a long breath. “I understand the predicament this puts you in, Sarah, but look at it this way—keeping things as they are around here is for the betterment of the town. Can’t you just hold the wedding someplace else? Then everybody would be satisfied.”

Everybody?
She felt her blood stir again.
Like hell.
“With just a few weeks left before the event? Benny, look don’t even try to dignify your selfish act by using the excuse that Ronan’s Harbor would benefit from my not having the wedding here. I don’t care a hoot about your rationale for the complaint and I couldn’t care less about whether you and your brother reap big bucks on the house you bought.”

She felt the heat in her face. “If we want to discuss what’s best for Ronan’s Harbor, I vote that you sell your house and get the hell out. Leave me and everyone else around here alone.”

He offered no response but stood from his seat, his mouth set in a tight line. Something unrecognizable smoldered in his eyes. It was not anger, but it was intense and it made her heart quicken.

Heat flushed her face with something new and her mouth went dry. Such harsh words were foreign to her tongue and they tasted like bile.

Benny ceremoniously placed his wine glass onto the counter. He offered Gigi, who sat silent and staring, a short nod. He then turned to Sarah. “I’ll let myself out.”

He walked through the swinging door which slapped back and forth behind him in what looked like a wave goodbye.

Sarah locked onto Gigi’s big, round eyes.

“Guess you told him.” Gigi’s words were a near whisper, her tone as hollow as the sudden feeling of emptiness that sat in Sarah’s chest.

Sarah gulped the remainder of the wine in her glass. “Damn him,” she said before charging out of the room.

She caught Benny on the front porch. “Benny,” she said, breathless from something beyond the short sprint down the hallway from the kitchen.

He turned to her, staring with those big, dark eyes. His mouth curved into a humorless lopsided smile. “You’re right, you know…” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Her lips parted to speak, but the words were gnawed away by the solemnity in his eyes.

“I have no business being in this town, let alone messing with its inhabitants.” His words were flat and emotionless, but they sent a charge through her.

Heat flushed her face. Finally, she said, “This is a nightmare we don’t deserve.” She swallowed hard. “And, God only knows what those notes I’ve gotten are about.”

She took a breath to loosen the taut muscles binding her chest like a straight jacket. “But I’m sorry I said what I did. It was unfair and unkind. My nerves are frazzled, but that’s no excuse.”

His mouth curved into a sad facsimile of a smile. “You’re a nice lady, Sarah Grayson. The last thing you need to do is apologize to me.” And he turned to leave.

Her eyes followed him as he retreated down the stairs and made his way along the brick sidewalk. It was only after he was out of sight that she realized she had clenched a hand to her sweater, making a tight fist of wool over her heart.

****

Benny skipped the trip to the market and headed in the opposite direction. He thought of Ann Marie and saw the image in his mind of the way she’d looked on the day she had left him. She had had that same angry exasperation on her face, the same ragged sound of bitterness in her voice that had just come from Sarah.

He had never really blamed Ann Marie. Her bitterness had grown from a disappointment Benny couldn’t fix. Ann Marie had wanted children. Hell, he had, too.

Shooting blanks
is what his brother had said as a result of the gruesome testing he’d had to endure.
Slow swimmers
is what the doctor had said in his lingo for a layman. Whatever the vernacular, the truth was that there would be no kids for Benny and Ann Marie.

That sorry news had only intensified whatever had been wrong with the two of them, and he knew there’d been plenty. But it had become unbearable when they’d discovered that for eternity all they’d ever have was each other. It didn’t take Ann Marie long to get the hell out of Dodge.

He thought of the Christmas card he’d spied one year on the fridge in Sal and Bernadine’s kitchen. It had been more than an odd feeling seeing his former wife and her new husband, two kids and a dog, peering into a lens. One click forever captured their happy life.

He charged up the steps of the cottage and went inside. He sat alone in the living room for a while, staring at nothing, thinking of everything. He closed his eyes, breathed in and breathed out.

He released his tight lids. Focusing his eyes, it was like seeing the room for the first time. It was a small, square box of a space. The wood floor was marred with scratches, a perfect match for the lumpy walls. He looked up at the ceiling where the light fixture that no longer worked still clung to the surface, rusty patches dotting its rim. Even the damned electrical wiring needed upgrading.

He viewed the furnishings that had come with the house, the nubby plaid sofa, chipped veneer side tables, cheap glass lamps with stained shades.

Nothing about this place spoke of care. Not like Sarah’s Cornelia Inn. He remembered the way the she had spoken of her roots in the home, of the old lady she’d named it after.

He shook his head. He guessed nobody had ever loved this little dump. He smiled mirthlessly. It was no wonder that it was his name on the deed.

Benny stretched his arms over his head and craned his neck to relieve the tension that had taken residence. He had a call to make.

Chapter Thirteen

“Okay, friend o’mine,” Gigi intoned when Sarah re-entered the kitchen. She waved her empty wine glass at her. “Pour us some more truth serum and let’s have a little talk.”

Sarah went to the refrigerator and yanked open the door. She pulled the wine bottle out by its neck and brought it over to the island, firmly placing the bottle down with her fingers still wound around it.

“Easy, tiger, this isn’t a ship that needs christening.” Gigi reached across the island and took the bottle from Sarah’s grasp. She poured a half glass for each of them. “Sit,” she said.

Sarah collapsed onto a stool across from Gigi, her arms dangling at her sides.

“Drink,” Gigi said.

Sarah looked at her, but didn’t move. “I hate him.”

Gigi didn’t respond, but instead eyed Sarah over the rim of her wine glass.

Sarah said it louder. “I hate him.” She dangled the wine glass in front of her, rotating her wrist to make the golden liquid dance in its bowl. “You wanted the truth. And there it is.”

“Uh-huh.”

She took a swig of the cool wine. But the fragrant blend did not erase the thoughts swimming around in her head. Benny Benedetto had done something to her that no man had ever done before. He’d gotten her mad enough to yell.

All the things that she’d gone through with Gary—all the times he’d made a fool of her, the way he belittled her in front of people and in private—in all that time she’d never once, not one single time, yelled at him.

And now this interloper had turned her into a banshee. That had to be hate. She sipped again.

“The man certainly stirs
something
in you, that’s for sure.”

“Don’t think your innuendo escapes me,” Sarah said. She was finally feeling the effect of the wine she’d ingested. She realized she could breathe fully again. “But it’s ludicrous to say the least. Have you forgotten that he’s trying to sabotage Hannah’s wedding for his own selfish purposes? Well, I haven’t.”

“Better tell that to your pheromones.”

Sarah stared at her spiky-haired friend as she sat there puckering her pretty, smirky, over-lipsticked mouth. There was no rationalizing this with Gigi. That much she knew.

Her side-kick was a hopeless believer in fairy tales. Currently her latest delusion was that the infamous Mickey Dolan was back on his shining, white steed, ready to whisk her away to happily ever after. In their case, apparently that meant Las Vegas.

“Aren’t we drinking in the afternoon because you have a toast to make?” Sarah took a sip, silently toasting her segue away from Benny Benedetto.

“Well, yes, actually. Mickey’s coming over tonight to ‘discuss our future.’” Gigi clapped her hands. “He’s going to propose.”

“Gigi.” Sarah couldn’t help using her mommy voice. Her best friend often seemed in need of parenting. “Take it easy. Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“He was going to get our tickets today, he’s already booked the hotel and,”—she poked a finger in the air for emphasis—”I found a receipt in his pocket from a jewelry store at the Monmouth Mall.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “A
fancy
jeweler.”

“Okay, I’ll speak in your language. A, you don’t know that means he purchased a ring, and B, why are you rummaging through his pockets?”

Gigi shrugged a coy shoulder. “A girl has to stay informed, that’s all. The receipt doesn’t say the item was a ring, granted, but hell you just saw that opal necklace Hannah pulled out of that box. No ring would outshine the sentiment in something like that. Maybe Mickey’s got some of that same romance inside those sexy bones of his. I don’t care what the bauble is. I’ll love it and I’ll know what it means.”

“But…”

“No.” Gigi held a hand to her chest. “Sarah, honey, look. I’m going with my feelings on this. I have to listen to what’s in here no matter what. Honest to God, you should do the same.”

“Gigi,” Sarah said, not caring that she sounded skeptical. The hope in her friend’s eyes stopped her litany. She tendered a conciliatory smile. “If this will make you happy I hope that’s just how tonight goes.”

Gigi jumped up and dashed around the island like a schoolgirl, throwing her arms around Sarah. “I love you.” She squeezed hard then pulled out of the embrace. “I have to run. I’ve scheduled a manicure, you know, just in case it
is
a ring,” she gushed. “Which I think it is. I just do.”

She grabbed her purse, slung the strap over her shoulder and headed for the door. With her hand on the doorknob she gave Sarah a winning smile. “Wish me luck.”

Sarah blew her a kiss and Gigi caught it and held it to her heart.

****

Sarah cleaned up the kitchen. Thoughts of the day’s events careened around in her head despite her attempts to concentrate on the rote task of rinsing suds from the wine glasses and tea mugs.

She hoped Gigi was doing the right thing in going off with Mickey Dolan to Vegas. But, again, she realized she knew next to nothing about men, and even less about relationships. Not to mention pheromones and the havoc they caused.

She checked on Harvey and Richie. They were still at it, sawing off subflooring in a warped area. Again, they assured her they would make every effort to complete the project in what Harvey termed a “jiffy.”

Before it went an inch further, it was time for Sarah to tell them the facts. Her stomach ached with the heaviness of the truth she’d swallowed earlier. “Harvey, hold up.”

Harvey put down a flat spatula-looking tool and stepped over to her. “It looks worse than it is, Sarah.” His voice was assuring.

“I found out I need a permit for this work.”

Richie stopped his hammering and came over to where they stood. The two men exchanged a look then focused their gaze on her.

“You mean, now that we’ve discovered the job’s going to be bigger than we thought?”

She blew out a long breath and turned her head in the direction of the staircase. She lowered her voice. “Well that certainly compounds it, yes. But, I received a complaint from the township committee protesting any renovation without a permit.”

“Well that can’t be good.” Richie said.

Harvey shot him an annoyed look.

Richie shrugged. “What do you want from me? I’m a carpenter, not a lawyer.”

Harvey turned his attention to Sarah. “I’m sorry. I should have double-checked but this seemed like such a simple little job. All the work I’ve done around town has been for private residences. Maybe they’re bigger sticklers for inns.”

He shook his head. “You know, I had an auto body shop before doing this stuff. When that went bust I started doing odd jobs for folks. I should have known to check with the committee since this is a place of business as well as a residence. I screwed up.”

Sarah thought of her first contact with Harvey. He and his buddy Richie had been outside a neighbor’s house painting their siding. The neighbor had given him a glowing reference. When she’d heard he had a family to support and a business that had gone under, well she’d hired him on the spot. Little did any of them know that Sarah’s renovations would require permission.

“We
all
screwed up, Harvey. Guys, look. For now, let’s put the work on hold until I straighten this out. I’ve already filed for the permits, but now we’ll need to provide a new drawing of the work involved.”

“They’re definitely going to need to know about
this
.” Harvey pointed to an area of black mold stains on the subflooring. “Or else they may shut us down again.”

She gave a sad nod. “Yeah.”

“I’ll write up the new estimate and we’ll get it to town hall as quickly as I can, Sarah. Okay?”