Summers' Love, A Cute and Funny Cinderella Love Story (LPC Romantic Comedy Series) (19 page)

“Safe from wha—”

Gunshots, three blasts in quick succession, made her jump. There came a shrill scream followed by footsteps running away. Kate held her breath, watching to see how her brother reacted. Roger frowned but only a little, like the way he did after flubbing a line. To Kate, he didn’t look nearly as concerned as he should have. A loud moaning wail echoed in the hallway and was quickly snuffed out by more screaming.

“Wait here,” said Roger, cracking the door a few inches. “I’ll check to make sure it’s safe.”

“Safe?” Kate wondered if her brother had
completely
lost his mind. She grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled. “With people shooting on the other side of the walls?”

Roger pulled her fingers from his shirt. “Keep down. They normally shoot high.”

After he’d slipped out, Kate rested her shoulder on the doorframe for a good thirty seconds. The commotion in the hallway had changed from panicked screaming to shouts for someone to call 911. Kate peeked out. Two small bullet holes had pierced the front door. Kate ran and stood behind her brother, staring numbly at the splintered door.

“Oh my gosh, Rog, that could have been me.”

“Last time it took out my goldfish bowl,” he replied casually. “Still want to spend the night here?”

Kate surveyed the dismal apartment. “I’m broke and homeless. What choice do I have?”

“I’ll get my lock-picking set from my office,” he answered. “Maybe it’ll turn out I’m not as rusty as I think.”

She threw her arms around his shoulders and squeezed. “Thank you. I owe you big time.”

Roger stepped out of her hug, blushing a little in the process. Displays of affection weren’t something they had grown up with. Both had taken after their dad in that way. “All right, all right. But on the drive to your place, you are going to tell me everything that happened with your author friend. Including the part about how you ran off Prince Charming and possibly your best and last chance at a fairy tale wedding.”

* * *

“You brought my car here? But how? I have the keys.”

Stu stood outside the Blackbeard Bistro under a large, black awning made to look like a skull and crossbones flap that stretched the length of the café’s front windows and almost kept rain from splattering his bare ankles. Within the past few hours he’d written three new chapters and polished off a large bowl of peach cobbler . . . with vanilla ice cream . . . and caramel syrup. If he kept eating at this rate, he’d look like Charles Barkley.

Cars were parked at an angle in front of the Bistro, Stu’s red Jag in front. Next to the Jag sat a pickup advertising Hank’s Hardware. Stu’s handyman held up a flat metal rod and a rubber shim for both Stu and Hattie to see.

“I used these to break into your Jaguar,” Hank was explaining. “That was the easy part. Only took a couple minutes. Hard thing was getting the car started. It’s not like on TV where you can just touch a couple of wires.”

Rain fell diagonally from the sky, whipping under the awning. The threesome moved toward the front door to get out of the wind-driven rain. Stu cut his eyes toward Hattie, then back at Hank. “I still can’t believe you drove my car down here.”

“I needed to get some things from the lumber supply store in Morehead. Hattie said y’all needed to chat. You know the old saying about killing two birds.”

“That’s not why you broke into his car and you know it,” Hattie said. “You just wanted to try out your new gizmo.”

“
You’re
the one who made the comment that we ought to look under the bumper for a spare key.”

Hattie staked her fists on her hips. “But I didn’t tell you to steal the man’s car.”

“Well, thanks,” Stu said in an effort to diffuse the tension between the elderly couple. “This does save me from sailing back to Ocracoke alone. I can leave my boat here and come back when I have more crew.”

The rain began to back off. Hank leaned back and looked up from under the lip of the awning.

“I think now’s a good time to go and check into the motel,” Hank announced. “Let me know if you find anything messed up under the dash and I’ll pay to get it fixed.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Stu remarked.

“Don’t forget to ask for the senior discount,” said Hattie. “Oh, and tell them we want to be on the ground floor. My knees can’t take the stairs.”

Hank pivoted and, taking long strides, hurried to his truck.

“And we want a no-smoking room. The last time you forgot.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Hank unlocked the cab of his truck and crawled inside without further comment.

Hattie waited until he started the pickup before saying to Stu, “Honestly, some days I don’t know why I stay married to that man.”

“Because you love him?”

“I suppose.” The rain was easing. There was more movement on the docks across the street. Hattie’s expression became serious. “You need to make up with that girl.”

“How did you know we had a fight?”

“You called me, didn’t you? Wouldn’t have done that if you two hadn’t of had a tiff. Don’t let whatever happened between you two simmer. Soup simmers. Love needs stirring. Where is she right now? On your boat?”

“Kate? Home, I guess. I dropped her off at the dock this morning and she caught a ride to Harker’s Island.”

“Call her.”

“You know, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I don’t have her phone number. Never thought to ask for it.”

“Here.” Hattie pressed a folded slip of paper into Stu’s hand. He opened it and looked at the phone number. “One of the reasons I make everyone in the Bible study give me their email address, mailing address, and phone number is for emergencies such as this.”

Behind the pair, a family of four exited the café. They all six huddled together under the large awning for a moment, then the family went hurrying off to their SUV, leaving Stu and Hattie alone in front of the door.

“Hattie, I don’t think calling her is a good idea. We ended it clean. I think we should leave it at that.”

“You said you wanted help and I’m here. Now this is what you are going to do. Tomorrow morning you are going to get in that fancy sports car of yours and drive to wherever that girl lives and apologize.”

“Apologize? Why should
I
apologize? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“First off, yes you did. The sooner you get that it’s
always
your fault, the faster you two can make up. Second, what did the publisher say about the chapters you wrote?”

Stu was tempted to argue with Hattie about who was to blame, but when she brought up his novel, he jumped at the chance to share his good news. “My editor loved them. In fact that’s what the fight was about. Kate is upset that I used her as the heroine in the story.”

Hattie shook her head, tossing her curls. “I told you that was a bad idea, didn’t I? Didn’t I tell you to leave her out of it?”

“But you’re the one who encouraged me to spend time with her.” Stu forked his index fingers in the air, making quote marks. “‘Woo her. Learn to love.’ Isn’t that what you said?”

“But I didn’t mean for you to hurt her. I told you that at Bible study.”

“If I changed the heroine’s name, would that help?”

Hattie gave him a “you’re kidding me” look. “You are way past that now. That girl already knows it’s her in your story. What you have to decide is what’s more important. The two of you getting back together or you making it back on the New York Times Bestseller list.

The downpour had turned to a steady drizzle. The sky lightened a little, and silver drops fell from low clouds.

Stu ran his fingers through his wet hair. “Can’t I have both?”

“Not an option. Call her. Tell her you’re sorry, that the two of you need to talk. Women love it when a guy says he wants to talk. It means he cares.” She pointed at him with a gnarled finger. “And make sure you bring flowers and tell her how pretty she looks.”

“I don’t know, Hattie. I’m not sure she’s worth the trouble.” He paused, thinking. “There are some things she does that get on my nerves.”

“Son, there are reasons why opposites attract. Ever wondered why?”

Even if he didn’t want to know, Stu could bet she was going to tell him.

“I’ll tell you. It’s because when God created us, he made us perfectly incomplete. Our soul mate is that missing half. You
think
you want someone that will complement you, say nice things to you and about you. But that’s your ego talking.” A clap of thunder burst directly above them. Hattie glanced up and kept talking. “So you go around searching for someone who can complete you. Call that girl, make it right. Do whatever you have to, but make sure she understands how sorry you are.”

“Even if it means scrapping that book?”

“Especially if it means scrapping that book.”

“But what about my career?”

“You can’t love without sacrifice, son. That’s what Paul meant when he said, ‘Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.’ Make the call and make it right now, son.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Roger whispered, “Would you
please
stop moving?”

He and Kate huddled on her patio. The overhang above the sliding glass doors formed a silver curtain of rain, making it difficult to hold the flashlight steady. Kate aimed the beam at the lock and watched while her brother wiggled and jiggled his lock-picking tool.

They’d been standing in the rain for almost fifteen minutes. The wooden slats of the patio’s privacy fence separated the pair from the adjoining unit, but that didn’t stop the neighbor’s Yorkie from barking.

“Almost got it,” Roger said under his breath.

Kate heard her neighbor’s back door creak open. A voice called, “Snoopy, hush!”

Turning slightly, Kate tried to shield the light.

Roger slid the door open. “We’re in.”

Without waiting, Kate shoved her brother inside and followed, quickly pulling the door shut behind them. “Quick, go stand by the kitchen window and let me know if you see anyone coming.”

Roger asked, “Should we be concerned that you left the patio gate open?”

“Didn’t you close it?”

“You told me you would.”

“I did? Sorry, I’m dead on my feet. Hopefully no one will notice.”

Kate allowed the wand of light to guide her into her bedroom. She pulled a large suitcase from the walk-in closet and tossed it on the bed, eased to the windows and turned down the blinds. She jerked hangers from the closet rod and then laid several outfits next to the suitcase. The conference director had advised the conferees that Charleston in August could be brutal. Despite the cool rain, Kate decided to go with a wardrobe of casual summer wear (sleeveless blouses and walking shorts for her stroll around the Straw Market) and her best business attire for the big event. Plus her one and only evening gown. She rifled through drawers, gathering the necessary bling accessories, socks and undies, then stepped into the bathroom. Placing her blue bathroom bag on the toilet seat, she cleaned out her medicine cabinet, dumping everything inside, including the shampoo and conditioner from the shower. No telling when or if she’d ever be allowed back in.

She went back into her bedroom where she mentally clicked off everything she would need for her trip to Charleston, closed her suitcase and rolled it into the hallway. From the top shelf of the coat closet, she pulled down a small box with her dad’s personal effects. Inside were war medals, black-and-white photos of him and Kate’s mom, letters to him from his parents. She cradled the box the way a small child clutches a stuffed bear.
What would Dad think if he saw me now, his Kitten,
breaking into her own place and fleeing into the night like a fugitive?

Roger’s silhouette appeared at the end of the hallway. “You about ready?”

“Just checking to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything.”

“Well, hurry before someone notices the gate’s open.”

Kate dashed into the guest bedroom and snatched a picture frame off the dresser and her favorite afghan, the one knitted for Kate by her grandmother. She was wondering if she should grab her baby picture album when Dave Matthews began singing ‘Crash’ — her phone’s ringtone. She glanced at the number. Restricted.

On the chance it might be Red with good news about her stun gun order, she answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Stu. Listen, I know it’s late but I had to call.”

Roger materialized in the doorway. He was holding both hands in the air in a “What’s taking so long?” gesture.

“I can’t talk,” Kate replied. “I’m in …” She surveyed the darkened room, heard the whoosh of traffic outside her townhome. “… in the middle of something.”

“That’s fine. I just wanted you to know how bad I feel. I was wrong to react the way I did. You’re right. I should never have used you in my story. That was totally out of line.”

The rain began to fall harder, drumming the grill on the patio. Kate stood, frozen, unsure how to respond. “Okay.”