Meant to Be (16 page)

Randy leaned forward, setting down his drink and picking up a pen. “Sam Edwards runs three small hotels on the island. Some of us might survive if Wheeler gets his way, but Sam would have no choice but to start over somewhere else.” He scribbled the name and a phone number on a yellow sticky note. “Give me an hour or so to give him a heads-up, then call to set up a meeting.”

“I’ll do that, thank you.” Beth took the note, feeling good about adding another ally to the team. “We’ll start around seven Thursday night.”

As she stood to leave, Randy rose with her. “By the way, you have nothing to worry about from Sid. She’s not nearly as tough as she’d like people to believe.”

“Right,” Beth said, not the least bit convinced. “I’ll try to remember that.”

Three days on the water with some of the best action he’d seen in months put Joe in a damn good mood. A good-enough mood for him to ignore Sid’s whiny-ass complaining all the way to Dempsey’s.

“City chick is never going to fall for this,” she said. Again. Sid had been repeating this statement for more than an hour.

“We’re early enough to set this up before the others get here.”

“This is a waste of time,” she said, stopping at the bottom of the steps. “Why don’t you just ask her what the hell you want to know?”

Determined not to lose his temper, Joe counted to ten as he walked back down the stairs. “We’ve been over this.
All you have to do is spend one night buying drinks on my dime, find out what she’s hiding, and then you’re free to go back to work boots and wifebeaters.” Taking Sid by the arm, he pulled her up the steps with him.

Sid yanked her arm away and stormed past. “You’re lucky this is for Lucas.”

By the time Joe entered the restaurant, Sid was sitting at the bar, waving his dad down for a beer. What was her freaking problem? It wasn’t as if he’d asked her to wear a bikini on the boat or rub up on Phil Mohler or something. She just had to be a girl for one goddamn night.

“I’ll take one of those, too, Dad,” he said, taking the stool beside her.

“He’s paying for both,” Sid added, turning her back on him.

Maybe bringing out Sid’s inner female was more dangerous than he imagined. Crude, locker-room-style sparring was one thing. Cold shoulders and getting pissed about shit that was no big deal were two things he’d never seen from Sid.

“You two having a spat?” Tom asked, smiling until Sid glared at him. “The meeting starts in twenty minutes.”

“Where’s Beth?” Joe asked, wanting to get this Sid situation settled as soon as possible.

Tom nodded toward the private dining room in the far right corner. “She and Patty are getting the room ready. Beth typed up some kind of handout using a Merchants member list we had on hand. She’s been doing research for two days, according to Patty.”

“Researching what?” Sid asked. “Everybody on this island knows everybody else’s business. It’s not like we need her to tell us what we already know.”

Tom shrugged. “I haven’t seen what she put together, so I guess we’ll find out.”

Joe nudged Sid off her stool. “We’ll go back and see if they need help.” She could scowl all night if she wanted, but she’d agreed to this deal and her ass was doing it whether she liked it or not.

Sid’s mumbling behind him said she was following, if reluctantly, so Joe kept walking. Inside the dining room, Beth stood next to a round table with a sheet of paper at each place setting. Examining a copy, she didn’t look happy with what she saw.

“What’s that?” Joining her, he lifted a packet from the table. “The Merchants Society has a letterhead?” In more than ten years, Joe had never seen anything this official-looking from the group.

“None that I could find, so I threw this together. What do you think?”

The small image of a seagull soaring through a sunset over a deserted pier anchored the top left side of the page while T
HE
A
NCHOR
I
SLAND
M
ERCHANTS
S
OCIETY
hugged the right along with an address. “I know this island like the back of my hand, but I don’t recognize this address. What is it?”

One brow shot up. “The library. I was told that’s where your meetings are held?”

“Oh.” So he didn’t know the address for the library. On an island the size of Anchor, saying “Meet at the library” was enough to know where to be. “What’s the rest of this?”

“The front page is a list of society members and the businesses they own. The second is as much as I could find out about Wheeler’s plans for the island so we’d know who would be most affected.” Turning the sheets in his hand,
she flipped to the last page. “This is a chart showing the tourism trends for the last five years and prediction indicators for the next five.”

Joe was speechless. Where had she found this kind of information? Maybe there was more to their little library than anyone knew. “This is amazing.”

Beth blushed. “It’s what I do. Research and gather information for others to use. Like I said, it’s just something I threw together.”

“This is anything but thrown together.” He never expected her to put this much effort into something she had no stake in. “Why are you doing all of this for people you don’t even know?”

“These aren’t people I don’t know. Well, true, I don’t know all of them. Or even most of them. But I know Lola, you, and your parents, and in the last few days I’ve gotten to know a few others.” Flipping his packet back to the first page, she pointed to the list at the top. “Randy Navarro sent me to see Sam Edwards, and Sam sent me to see your friend Chuck Brighteyes. There’s a chance the effect Wheeler’s project would have on the horses could play in our favor.”

“How do you figure?”

“The horses are still considered wild and protected, even if they can’t run free. Protecting the horses and the historic landmarks could be grounds for declaring the island off-limits to Wheeler.”

“You say ‘could be.’” Joe struggled to follow the conversation with Beth pressed against his right arm. “No guarantee?”

“Well, no,” she said, backing away a step. He fought the urge to move with her. “I can’t research the legal aspects without a law library. I do know Wheeler could make a sizable
donation and agree not to infringe on the historic sites to clear any obstacles. But the island would never be the same.”

“No. It wouldn’t.” Beth had been on the island less than a week and already understood what some natives had yet to figure out. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you like this place.”

“Of course I like it,” she said, with more passion than he expected. “The people here are friendly and welcoming and they don’t deserve to have their lives turned upside down just because some arrogant man with money gets a burr up his butt to take their homes.”

Seeing her temper aimed at something besides himself gave Joe a glimpse of how hot she looked when she was mad. The flat line of her mouth and stubborn set of her shoulders made him want to kiss her until she couldn’t remember why she was so angry.

Beth stared at the paper in her hand while Joe stared at her lips. Until Sid walked up behind them and coughed loud enough to jerk him back to reality.

“Is she okay?” Beth asked, eying Sid warily.

He turned to see Sid dropping napkin-wrapped silverware on the tables. Patty must have put her to work. A twinge of guilt hit his gut at the reminder of their plan. Beth was helping save his island and he was trying to dig into her past for something to hold against her.

When the only thing he really wanted to hold against her was himself.

This was for Lucas. He had to keep telling himself that.

“I hate to ask, seeing as you’ve done so much already, but I need a favor.” Seeing her surprised expression he added, “Actually, Sid needs a favor.”

Beth was immediately suspicious. Except to serve as a punching bag or live bait, what would Sid want from her? “What kind of favor?”

Joe took her elbow and pulled her away from the gathering crowd. “She has a thing for some guy, I don’t know who, but he just sees her as one of the boys. Like you said that first night you met her.” The suspicion grew. Especially considering what Sid’s brother said about Sid having a thing for Lucas. “I thought maybe you could do whatever it is you females do to make her look more like a girl.”

Beth’s jaw dropped. “Unless you’re hiding a magic wand, I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“You said she’s gorgeous.” He glanced at Sid as if trying to find some positive attribute. “Put her in a dress or something. Do her hair. Aren’t women always doing each other’s hair?”

What was this man’s point of reference? Nineteen-sixties set musicals? “Sid and I are a bit old for the slumber-party scene. And since I don’t have a death wish, I won’t be trying to change out her cargos for silk anytime soon.”

Beth tried to walk away but Joe cut her off. “Sid said you wouldn’t do it. She said you were too stuck-up, but I told her she was wrong. Guess I’m the one who was wrong.”

The parting shot was a low blow, and Beth knew he was manipulating her, but she couldn’t help herself. Joe didn’t make it two steps before she said, “Fine.”

“What?” he asked, giving his best innocence-incarnate look. She wasn’t fooled.

“I will attempt to turn your boat mechanic into a girl, but on one condition.” Beth could play his little game. “You’re paying.”

The innocent look took on a green hue. “I’m what?”

“It’s going to take more than a dress and a few hot rollers to transform Cinderella over there. If I’m helping, you’re helping. With cash.”

The green turned to white as Joe ran a hand through his hair. She hadn’t thought to wonder if his funds were too tight to cover a makeover and girls’ night out, but after another quick glance at Sid, he relented. “I’ll give you fifty dollars to pay for whatever you need. If you two want to have a good time with drinks, you’re on your own.”

Having a good time with Sid sounded near impossible, but if the woman had a thing for someone on the island, that meant she’d given up the crush on Lucas. Not that Beth was worried about losing her fiancé to a woman more comfortable around twin engines than mundane dinner parties. That would be silly.

Maybe Sid’s crusty outer shell really was softer than it looked, but watching from three tables away as Joe passed on the news, Beth was not encouraged. She made a mental note to verify her health insurance would cover any out-of-state injuries.

I
f Beth’s coworkers were one-tenth as grateful as their little Defeat-Wheeler team, she might actually enjoy her job. Instead of the invisible girl from research, she was the brilliant soon-to-be Dempsey. She hadn’t been called brilliant since winning the third-grade spelling bee, and being called a Dempsey meant even more.

On Anchor, being a Dempsey meant you were somebody. Beth had never been a somebody.

The meeting went better than expected, except for a brief tussle between her and Joe. Mr. Pushy insisted she explain the handout after she’d made it clear she would not be playing a speaking role. She refused, he called her “chicken” (in a whisper only she could hear, the jerk), and she relented.

If she were honest, she’d admit she enjoyed running the show for a while. Not that she’d ever admit that to Joe. By the end, they’d assembled a phone-tree-style contact list giving everyone a group of other merchants to contact before the regularly scheduled meeting the next night.

There was an awkward moment when Sam Edwards voiced the question everyone else was thinking: Why had Wheeler chosen their island? The tourist season didn’t run year-round
the way more tropical locations would, and what season they did have would always face the threat of hurricanes.

As theories were tossed about, Joe remained silent. In fact, he looked uncomfortable and changed the subject at the first chance.

Had Joe’s breakup with Cassie put a target on Anchor?

Surely no man would buy an island to avenge his daughter’s broken heart. Everything Beth knew about Tad Wheeler said the man was cunning, ruthless, and methodical about his investments. Not the type to make a financial decision based on emotion.

Maybe Joe’s behavior stemmed from something else, but Beth had observed enough criminals during law school to recognize a guilty conscience when she saw one.