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Authors: Terri Osburn

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Meant to Be (6 page)

BOOK: Meant to Be
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“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, jumping over the side and tying the dock line himself. Unfortunately, pretending the leggy blonde wasn’t there didn’t make her go away.

“Aren’t you going to say hello, Joe?” purred a familiar voice. “I know you saw me coming up the pier.”

A man would have to be dead not to notice the swing in Cassie’s hips. And Joe was definitely not dead. Though the woman made him wish he were once upon a time.

Bracing himself for the blow, Joe’s jaw tightened as he turned. The slim curves and perfect face didn’t invoke the lust they once had. Some relief there. But seeing her again stirred the memory of what a fool he’d been, igniting the anger he’d never managed to get past.

To reveal the anger to Cassie would mean revealing a weakness. That he wouldn’t do.

“Hello, Cassie. What are you doing here?”

“So much for a friendly greeting. Couldn’t you at least ask how I am first? It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.”

Two and a half years didn’t qualify as “a long time” in Joe’s book, but he wasn’t going to argue the point.

“How are you, Cassie?” Without waiting for an answer, he added, “You remember Sid.”

His mechanic walked up beside him. “No one told me the bitch was back in town.”

Cassie narrowed her eyes. “I see some creatures never change. Once a grease monkey, always a grease monkey.”

Sid charged, but Joe grabbed her before she could throw the first punch. Cassie was smart enough to take a step back. “What do you want, Cassie? I doubt you were just in the neighborhood,” Joe said.

His ex kept her eye on Sid for an extra second before answering. Then she turned to Joe and flashed him a thousand-dollar smile. “Let’s just say I’m on a working vacation. I was having dinner when I saw you pull up.”

“A working vacation?” Joe held firm to Sid. She should know better than to let Cassie get to her.

“Maybe we could grab a drink while I’m here. Talk about old times.” The woman had the nerve to flutter her eyelashes. “Take a walk down memory lane.”

There wasn’t enough liquor in the world to make him take that trip. “I’ll pass.”

The doe eyes turned sharp again. “I’ll be around for another week or two. Think it over, and when you change
your mind, give me a call.” She slid a business card into the pocket of his flannel, then swung her ass back up the pier.

“Why didn’t you let me hit her?” Sid asked. “One good punch, for old times’ sake.”

Joe exhaled. “She’s not worth it, Sid. She’s not worth it.”

One afternoon with Lola LeBlanc, and Beth was convinced the woman had been sent from heaven. The slippers were better than walking on clouds. They were like walking on air, if air actually molded to your foot, lifted you off the ground, and levitated you through your day. Though she’d offered to pay for them, Lola insisted she take the slippers as a welcome-to-the-island gift.

Island Arts & Crafts exceeded Beth’s expectations. The building stretched back beyond what was visible from the front, affording ample space for artwork of all kinds. The walls were covered in prints, oils, watercolors, and sketches, all reflecting the island feel. Sunsets over dunes. Charming cottages in blues, greens, and yellows. Boats of all shapes and sizes bobbing in a harbor that looked so real Beth could almost see the waves rolling against the hulls.

Other areas held everything from small sculptures to homemade porch signs and delicate glass creations. After a short negotiation, Lola agreed to let Beth pay for a deep purple vase in what looked to be a swirl of glass and light, but she still refused to accept payment for the slippers.

No sooner had Lola finished wrapping the vase than the chimes hanging from the front door signaled the arrival of a new customer.

“Looks like we have a fancy one here.” Lola patted Beth’s knee. “Go ahead and pour your tea. This could take a while if he’s looking for something for a lady love.”

Beth nodded but kept her attention on the new stranger. He smiled, but in an “I’m here to sell you something” sort of way. Half the lawyers in her office used that smile.

“Can I help you, sir?” Lola asked.

The fake smile grew wider, revealing teeth white enough to blind. “I’m looking for Ms. LeBlanc. Is she in today?”

Lola’s smile slipped. “I’m Lola LeBlanc. Did someone send you to see me?”

“As a matter of fact, someone did.” The man pulled a card from his coat pocket. “I’m Derek Paige. I work for Tad Wheeler of Wheeler Development. I believe we’ve contacted you previously.”

Lola’s smile disappeared. “I’m not interested in what Mr. Wheeler has to offer. I’m sorry you wasted your time coming all the way down here in person, Mr. Paige, but perhaps you’d like to purchase something to remember your trip?”

Though she was being extremely courteous, there was no missing the derision in Lola’s voice. Beth couldn’t help but wonder what Wheeler Development would want from a small-island art shop owner. The construction development company owned by Tad Wheeler happened to be a client of her law firm, and though she didn’t work on the account, she knew Wheeler usually aimed for larger prey.

“Mr. Wheeler is willing to negotiate the terms of the deal. I assure you, Ms. LeBlanc, it would be well worth your time to sit down and discuss the matter further. We are highly motivated in this endeavor.” Though he slipped his hands into his pants pockets, there was nothing relaxed about Mr. Paige. Beth imagined his boss would not be happy if his representative failed in his mission. Whatever that mission might be.

As if shifting personalities, Lola threw one hand on her hip and waved the other in front of the unwelcome visitor’s nose. “I told your people on the phone, and I’ll tell you again. I’m not selling my store. Mr. Big-Shot Developer Man will just have to find another island upon which to stick his hoity-toity sandbox.”

Selling? Wheeler wanted to buy the art store?

Mr. Paige maintained his pasted smile in the face of Lola’s temper. “Now, Ms. LeBlanc, don’t make any hasty decisions. Your neighbors have received similar offers. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to ruin this chance for everyone else.”

The frail-looking woman moved around the counter with impressive speed. “No one on this island is going to take what Mr. Wheeler is offering. I don’t care how many zeroes he puts behind the number.” She’d actually backed the man to the door without touching him. Though Beth hoped she’d poke him in the chest. He deserved a poke for that sleazy smile.

“Now unless you intend to buy a souvenir, get out of my store.”

The man had the good sense to do as ordered, but threw a parting shot before making his exit. “At some point,
Ms. LeBlanc, you’re not going to have the option to negotiate. The sooner you get on board with this, the better your chances will be. If you wait too long, the terms will be much less generous than they are now.”

The lawyer in Beth came alive, and she stood. “Ms. LeBlanc has obviously given Mr. Wheeler her answer. Any further contact will be deemed harassment, and for the sake of ending this rationally, we’ll ignore that last threat. For now.”

Lola turned wide eyes in her direction, but Beth kept her own focused on Derek Paige. She may not work in the courtroom, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know how to wield the law when necessary. Defending Lola felt necessary.

Mr. Paige nodded. “Thank you for your time, Ms. LeBlanc. Sorry to bother you.”

When the chimes faded into silence, Beth slumped back in her chair and Lola did the same beside her. “Child, I don’t know whether to kiss you or ask to see your credentials. That was beautiful.”

Beth exhaled. “My credentials won’t get you far, but I couldn’t let him threaten you like that. What does Tad Wheeler want with this island?”

“That evil man has been trying to buy us out for months now. Wants to turn Anchor into some rich people’s playground. Do you know him?”

“Not personally, but I know of him.” Beth’s stomach turned. “He’s a client of my law firm.”

Lola looked even more impressed. “That must be one fancy firm based on what I know of Mr. Tad Wheeler. Which isn’t much, but I can tell by his letterhead he’s not your neighborhood contractor.”

“No, he isn’t. And based on office gossip, he’s used to getting what he wants. Regardless of the obstacles in his way.”

“Well, he’s not getting this island, I can guarantee you that.” Lola stood up to pour two glasses of iced tea.

“I’m sure you’re right, Lola,” Beth said. Then thought to herself,
But I wouldn’t count on it
.

CHAPTER FIVE

B
y the time Joe followed Sid into the pub, he’d lost his appetite. The “working” part of Cassie’s vacation had to mean doing dirty work for her daddy. Tad Wheeler had been courting various business owners for months to sell out. With the businesses gone, tourism would die and the cabin owners would have to sell.

And sell cheap.

It wasn’t hard to see what the man was up to, and at the last Merchants meeting, they’d all agreed to stick together. He hoped Wheeler would lose interest, but past experience taught him not to underestimate the man.

“It’s about time you got here,” Joe’s dad yelled from behind the bar. “Grab an apron and start clearing tables.”

Joe looked around the crowded dining room. Families, college students, and middle-aged fishermen filled the tables and booths. “Where the hell’d they come from?” he asked, pulling an apron off a peg inside the kitchen.

“I have no idea, but they’ve been rolling in like waves for two hours.”

“Need me to grab a tray, Tom?” Sid asked.

A beer mug slid down the bar and another glass appeared in Tom’s hand. “No, we’re good for now. Georgette’s got most of the room and Elizabeth has been a lifesaver. Awful waste of a law degree if you ask me. She’d be worth the money to get her on permanent.”

Sid and Joe both stood frozen, watching the tiny brunette work her way around the tables. If Joe didn’t know better, he’d swear she’d been waitressing all her life.

“Where’s Annie?” Joe asked, keeping his eyes on Beth. He didn’t know where she got those cutoff jean shorts, but no doubt she’d set a record for tips by the end of the night.

“Her boy’s down with an ear infection.” Tom slid two more beer mugs and a margarita down the bar, where Beth arrived to pick them up.

“Three Bud Lights in the bottle on the tab for table twelve, and two iced teas for the elderly ladies in the corner. I also need to cash out table nine. I’ll pick up the check after I deliver these.”

Without so much as a glance in Joe’s direction, Beth sailed through the tables once again, drawing every pair of male eyes in the room.

“That’s Elizabeth? That’s Lucas’s fiancée?” Sid asked. “I thought she was a lawyer?”

“She is,” Tom said over the ringing of the register. “Turns out she worked her way through college waiting tables.”

Sid punched Joe in the arm.

“What was that for?” he asked, rubbing his shoulder.

“For making her sound like some plain Jane this morning. Now I see what you weren’t telling me.”

“You’re crazy. I barely said anything about her this morning.” And if Sid hit him again he was going to strangle her with his apron strings.

“And now I know why.” Sid turned back to Tom. “Bud Light when you get a chance. I’ll be in the pool room.”

“Alvie Franklin is back there, and I don’t want you hustling him at pool again,” Tom said. “He’s too drunk to know what you’re doing, and if he breaks another cue, you’re paying for it.”

Sid raised her hands in innocence as she walked backward toward the sound of clashing pool balls. Fat chance she’d follow his dad’s orders. A clearing tub in hand, Joe headed onto the floor. He’d cleared three tables before crossing paths with Beth.

“Oh,” she exclaimed when they nearly collided. “I didn’t know you were here.”

Joe ignored the weight of the full tub. “I didn’t know you could wait tables. You look like a natural.”

Beth’s head tilted to one side. “Are you paying me a compliment or setting me up for some smart-aleck remark?”

So much for trying to be nice. “Forget I said anything. Damn.” He tried to go around her, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. The burn was instant, and she pulled back as if she’d felt it, too.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Joe shrugged, pretending being so close didn’t affect him. “Where’s Dozer?”

“In your backyard. Patty told me where to find the food by the back door, so I filled his bowl and made sure he had water before I left.” She bit her bottom lip. “I hope that’s okay.”

“That’s fine. Thanks for keeping an eye on him.” Someone a few tables away called out, “Miss?” and Joe said, “We’d better get back to work.”

“Sure,” she said, staring at him through big green eyes. “Back to work.”

BOOK: Meant to Be
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ads

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