Trapped in Tourist Town (14 page)

Right now she didn't want to think about her impending move. She didn't want to think about life without her friends, her family, or Burke. She wanted to live in the moment. She wanted to think about her trip with Burke, pretending that it was more about getting to see the city she wanted so much to move to and not about spending time with a man who was starting to become a necessary part of her life.

Cady needed this trip. It would be good to regain her focus, build up her excitement. Just her and Burke on a whirlwind tour of his stomping grounds. She'd get to see him in his element. The preppy,
GQ
guy who'd first walked into her bakery and snagged her interest. Except Burke had changed a lot since their first meeting. He was really fitting in and finding his place as a local. And for the first time in her life, Cady found herself falling for a resident of Scallop Shores.

• • •

There was no backing out now. Burke had made an appointment to meet with his father at ten o'clock the following morning. The fact that he'd had to make an appointment to be seen made his decision that much easier. He'd booked a couple of tickets for a puddle jumper leaving out of an old Air Force base-turned-commercial airfield in Port Kitt. This time tomorrow, he and Cady would be up above the clouds.

But for now, he sat at his makeshift desk and worked on his latest article. Meredith was loving the off-the-beaten-path angle, and Burke felt more than a little guilty at taking full credit, since he'd never gotten around to officially asking to hire Cady on as his assistant. This week he was writing about a small mom-and-pop business that rented out boats, canoes, and kayaks by the hour to folks looking to spend a little time on Scallop Shores River.

He was sure his readers would delight in the humor aspect, as he described his icy plunge into the river. It turned out canoes were easier to get into than out of. He recalled the spectacularly embarrassing moment when his arms were pinwheeling wildly as the foot planted firmly on shore and the foot still in the canoe drifted further and further apart, turning him into a human wishbone. Not his finest moment. Burke rolled his shoulders and thought about the email awaiting an answer.

Meredith was pushing for an answer. Where was he going from here? What fabulous locale had he chosen for his next assignment? She'd given him carte blanche (within reason) as she'd been so pleased with his articles on Scallop Shores, the seaside town she'd been so certain he'd fall in love with. She'd offered up some suggestions: Monte Carlo, Santorini, and Jamaica, to name a few.

That was another overdue visit he'd have to make while he was in the city. It was one thing to cut ties with a family that he'd never felt he belonged to. But the magazine, his editor, they'd always been decent to him. He had no complaints. Up until a few short weeks ago, he'd hounded Meredith for the plum assignments. Now he was telling her ‘thanks, but no, thanks'. The idea set his stomach churning like a pit full of snakes.

What the hell was he going to do for a living? He knew if he asked to do freelance from Scallop Shores, the answer would be no. It was a travel magazine, after all. No. If he wanted to stay in this town, he had to quit his job at the magazine. He'd have to find a nine-to-five, probably working weekends and most definitely pulling in a minimum wage. How the hell much
was
minimum wage? Could anyone even live on that?

Burke had never wanted for anything in his life. While other college-bound kids straight out of high school were eating boxed macaroni and cheese or Ramen noodles, and buying secondhand furniture at Goodwill, Burke's parents had bought him an apartment—a penthouse apartment—complete with an interior designer named Maurice, who had spent more time checking out Burke's butt than fabric swatches.

Living in this tiny one-bedroom cottage was the closest Burke had ever come to slumming it. And once he gave his notice at the magazine, he was one step closer to sleeping on the street. Did Scallop Shores even have a homeless community? He could be the first. The thought of squatting in front of Logan's Bakery almost made him smile.

Okay, he had to snap out of it! He was following his dream, right? He was going to write the Great American Horror Novel. It didn't matter if he never earned a dime. He would be doing what he loved, in a town that he was learning to love. It was a new beginning, and damn it, he could do this!

Elbows on the table, Burke rested his chin in his hands and stared moodily out the window. The sun shone bright, everything outside awash in color. The sliver of ocean that he could see was placid. It should have been calming, that tranquil blue. But it made him feel weak. And being weak pissed him off. He needed a plan.

He needed to know just how bad things were going to be financially, once his parents cut him off. The penthouse was in their name. That issue had never bothered him before. It had allowed Burke his independence, while also ensuring that his parents could feel they were doing their part to support him, and still remain emotionally distant.

Hadn't a trust fund matured a couple of years ago? Did he have access to that? Was it already in an account somewhere? Maybe things weren't as dire as his panicked brain had made them out to be. Then again, perhaps there were strings attached and part of getting his hands on that money meant accepting a role in the family business.

Resigned to the fact that these questions were going to have to remain unanswered until he saw his father, Burke pushed his chair away from his workspace and stood up. His brain was too cluttered to do any kind of writing today. The beautiful summer weather was calling to him. Besides, living this close to the seashore and not spending more time at the water's edge was a crime. He'd enjoy a run down to the beach and cool off with an icy dip in the Atlantic.

Cady was working or he'd ask her to join him. It disgusted Burke how she'd had to beg for the time off. Two frickin' days! From what she'd told him, she never took vacations. That Mr. Logan really took advantage of her. He couldn't wait for the day she gave her notice.

As he changed into running shorts and laced up his sneakers, he grinned. Mr. Logan had made Cady train Sophie on making espresso drinks. It was his one condition in order for her to take the time off. Burke knew it was killing her to let someone else touch her precious machine. But it meant that the bakery owner was admitting that customers would order the higher-priced drinks. That had to be worth something, right?

The humidity wasn't quite as thick as it had been, but the sense of walking out his door and into a wet blanket was still something Burke had a hard time adjusting to. As he jogged out his driveway and down the short, unpaved road that held a couple of other rental properties, he tried to picture the area in winter. Cady told him the beach areas were pretty much deserted after Labor Day.

Burke ran past a roadside stand that sold local produce. He'd have to come back when he had some cash on him. He'd gotten addicted to fresh blueberries on his granola in the morning. They weren't big and plump, like you could buy in the grocery store. These were much smaller, growing wild in the woods around town. And they were so much sweeter. His mouth watered and he picked up his speed to put some distance between himself and the tempting fruit.

Taking a right, he passed a campground that catered to RVs and smaller campers. It would kill his father to know this, but Burke liked that Scallop Shores didn't just cater to the well-to-do, like some of the ritzier towns up the coast. This town made it possible for people on any budget to vacation here. There were a couple of hotels that his father wouldn't absolutely cringe at. The B&Bs were quite popular, too. But there were motels and campgrounds of all kinds.

He watched a group of teens playing a game of volleyball on the cushiony grass at the campground. Mothers managed to hold a conversation from their webbed lawn chairs while keeping an eye on a group of toddlers splashing around in a kiddie pool. Oh, to have had summer experiences like this when he was growing up! Well, there was no sense lamenting the past when he had it within his power to change his future.

Burke arrived at the beach and knew that his plan to run the whole length before rewarding himself with a swim was not going to be possible. Had he really not been down here at this time of day before? Not a parking space to be had. Families were jaywalking between cars that were stuck in traffic as far as the eye could see. The sand was nearly nonexistent, covered in multicolored blankets and towels. A rental station had been set up near the lifeguard stand, though there weren't many floats left to be rented. He stood on the sidewalk, looking down over the chaos that was Scallop Shores overrun by tourists. It was glorious!

Horns blaring and traffic rushing past. Voices raised in conversation over the myriad noises surrounding them. A jackhammer digging up concrete a street over. All of it wrapped Cady up in a cacophony of discordant pandemonium. It was glorious.

Spinning in a slow circle, she took it all in, a wide grin stretching across her cheeks. She'd promised to wait in the little coffee shop across the street while Burke met with his father. But he had her cell number and she was too excited to sit around twiddling her thumbs. The minute he disappeared behind the glass door of the high-rise, Cady had scrambled from her chair and out into the bustle of the city.

Before he had left, Burke had slapped a twenty-dollar bill on the table. It wasn't like she didn't have any money of her own, so she tried to push it back toward him. The tightness of his jaw and a quick shake of his head caused her to relent. He was worked up over this meeting with his father. If this was what it took to convince him she would be fine on her own for an hour or so, then she wouldn't argue.

Cady meandered down the street, stopping to admire a killer pair of heels on a well-dressed storefront mannequin. She wouldn't have any use for them in Scallop Shores. But here? In the city? She was starting to develop some dangerously expensive tastes. Lustily eyeing the shoes one more time, she sighed and moved on.

What an amazing day! Her first plane ride. Okay, so that hadn't been quite as thrilling as it had been nerve-wracking. Who knew she had a fear of flying? Burke had been so sweet, holding her hand and dropping soft kisses against her temple when her squeezes were probably close to breaking his poor hand.

Her first cab ride. Never mind that she thought the guy was going to kill them before they ever arrived at their destination. There might not have been multiple lanes in Scallop Shores, but there were stoplights. And rules. She was pretty sure that red meant stop—not zing through before anyone else had a chance to step on the gas pedal. Cady bit her lip. She'd have to get used to that now, wouldn't she? Oh, boy.

Bright sun found its way down to the sidewalk, bouncing off all the glass and chrome. Blessedly, the humidity in New York was not as cloying as it was on the coast. It was a gorgeous summer day. Fighting the urge to skip down the sidewalk, Cady giggled to herself. She was finally in the city.

A tall man in a business suit rushed past, knocking her shoulder and causing her to shuffle several inches to her left in order to keep her balance. If she hadn't been looking down already, she would have tripped over the legs stretched out in front of her. An old man, his scruffy beard filthy and his long trench coat entirely too warm for the weather, scowled up at her from the pavement.

Oh, the poor dear! On this day of firsts, Cady encountered her first homeless person. She gave him her kindest smile, wavering only slightly when it was returned with a toothless leer. Remembering the twenty-dollar bill that Burke had given her, she stepped closer, reaching in her pocket and leaning down to press it into the old man's hand. She refrained from wiping her hand on her shorts, but only just barely, after she'd had to yank it out of the old guy's grasp. Okay, that was only slightly creepy.

Patting herself on the back for having done her good deed for the day, Cady turned the corner to continue her exploration of the city. She'd probably just helped a homeless man feed himself for the whole week. Her jaded brother would have thrown a fit. Chase would claim it was just going toward booze or cigarettes. But Cady had to believe that someone as down and out as that poor man would see the money for the boon that it was and figure out a way to stretch every last penny.

Smiling at anyone who'd make eye contact with her, Cady practically danced along the sidewalk. It felt good to do for those less fortunate. This felt more rewarding than volunteering at the nursing home. Maybe she'd find a soup kitchen, where she could volunteer her time.

On the next corner she encountered another homeless person. This one was a young mother, with a toddler, and a scruffy little dog. No one else was stopping. How could no one care? The woman looked younger than her by at least five years. Her little girl, stringy hair and face streaked with dirt, was no more than three. Living on the streets? It was horrifying.

Scrambling in the tiny purse she had slung across her body, Cady drew out all the bills she could find. Thirty-six dollars. It was all she had on her. The young woman refused to make eye contact. She was probably too ashamed. Circumstances had forced her to beg on the street in order to feed her child. What that must feel like!

“Please. Take it. I wish I could give you more.”

When the woman hesitated, Cady turned to the child, offering her the money. Eyes bright, she snatched at it like it was a shiny, wrapped Christmas present. Cady gave the dog a brief pat on the head and scratch behind the ears. She sent a watery smile to the mother and child and turned before she really started crying. She'd taken a few steps back in the direction she'd come before she heard the woman's raspy voice.

“Thank you.”

Cady nodded and kept going, her footsteps heavier and her mood lower. Living in the city was going to be a lot harder than she realized. There were so many people who needed help. And as soon as she gave her money to one, she discovered another who needed it even more. How did she decide who was more deserving? As much as it killed her, she knew she'd have to harden her heart to the atrocities she knew she'd see on a daily basis.