Will Work For Love (18 page)

“I love the holidays,” Whitney said, giggling at the
manager’s story.

“Me, too, but they don’t always bring out the best
behavior from everyone.” He shrugged and smiled at her, “People are
here to have a good time.”

“I guess so,” she replied.

“I’ll send a truck out with the chairs later, and
don’t be surprised if you get a visit from our chef this afternoon.
He wants to see the kitchen.” The manager shrugged his shoulders as
if to imply chefs were like that.

Whitney thanked him and headed to her next stop.
Tomorrow, the whole East family would arrive and she had a number
of details to keep her occupied until then. She was also in no
hurry to get back to East Pointe. Chris was certainly awake by now
and she wondered what he was going to think of the pillow and
blanket she provided. She didn’t know herself why she left them. A
lot of things were hard to explain lately. It was probably better
if she didn’t over think it.

“Hi, Whitney,” Ella said warmly when Whitney stepped
into the small fragrant shop. “Is it final detail time?”

“Getting close. The whole family arrives tomorrow,
so I thought I’d make those bows tonight,” Whitney said. “If I can
get some expert instruction, that is.”

“No problem. I’ll have you making bows like a pro in
no time.”

Ella pulled a box filled with wide satin ribbon from
below the counter. “I hope this is the right color,” she said.
“Salmon pink doesn’t mean exactly the same thing to everyone. It’s
not too coral is it?”

“Perfect,” said Whitney. “My dress is exactly this
shade, and Taylor picked it out herself.”

“Good. I’ll find some wire and I’ll show you my
magic trick for making perfect bows.”

Ella got a spool of green florist wire and two pairs
of cutters. She started rolling out and cutting three-foot lengths
of ribbon. Whitney admired her obvious skill and experience.

“Did you ever get all your hurricane damage
repaired?” asked Ella.

“I did,” Whitney answered in a low voice. She was
glad Ella was too occupied with measuring and cutting to look up
and see her face.

“Good,” said Ella. “Now, you take this ribbon in
your left hand and make a loop, then…”

Whitney tried to listen closely to Ella’s
instructions, but her thoughts kept returning to the sleeping man
on her lawn last night. She wondered what he was doing right now.
Even though she wanted to run him and Blue Isle Construction right
off the island, she also spent nearly every hour of the last week
in constant company with him. The feeling washing over her right
now was loneliness. She was a traitor to herself, but she missed
him.

Whitney took her supplies and headed home. She
expected deliveries and visitors as the preparations for the
impending wedding really ramped up. She needed to be at East
Pointe, and she was thankful she had something to do.

The first thing she noticed when she arrived at East
Pointe was its desertion. The pickup parked off to the side of the
driveway for nearly a week was gone now. The little trailer with
the construction lights, also gone. No extension cords, no tools,
no construction debris. No Chris.

She set up a table on the patio and left the sliding
door open so she’d hear the doorbell. The air was soft in the shade
of early afternoon. No breeze interfered with her ribbons that she
laid carefully across the table. She took a deep breath and dove
into the business of making dozens of salmon pink bows for her best
friend’s wedding. How hard could it be? She owned a successful
business silk screening and custom embroidering sportswear for
teams all over the North East. She could do this.

When the hotel truck pulled up, her heart jumped a
little. Then she realized it was a gleaming white pickup loaded
with chairs. Two young men in Marriott uniforms carefully unloaded
the chairs and set them up where she directed.

When she heard car doors slamming just as the sun
started to set, she thought for a moment that her lonely evening
might be getting a little more interesting. Then the doorbell rang
and she opened the door to a man in a white chef’s uniform with
several other people with him. They walked around the kitchen
inspecting appliances and pot and pans in the cabinets. Their visit
concluded with a serious discussion about every detail of the menu.
The highlight of the visit was definitely tasting some of the
dishes Taylor had requested and a few others. Despite their
five-star caliber, Whitney’s taste buds took her back to Mavis’
chicken and the few meals she’d shared with Chris. Spiced with
something they didn’t serve at the Marriott, those meals left an
impression on all her senses.

When they finally left, it was completely dark and
Whitney turned back to the job of making loopy bows. She hauled her
supplies inside and set up a workstation on the dining room table.
Ella made it look much easier than it really was, but she was
managing to get the job done.

It was her last lonely evening on St. Thomas, and
tomorrow her friends would arrive. She searched her heart,
examining the last eleven days, and found that the parts she
recalled were laced with sunshine, sparkling waves, blue eyes, and
a grin she would remember forever.

Chapter Twenty-Two

It was a sunny morning on St. Thomas only a few days
before Christmas, and the shops downtown were decorated cheerfully
and ready for business. Whitney went to her usual breakfast place
and gave herself the treat this morning of sitting outside at a
table while she enjoyed her coffee and breakfast sandwich. Last
night was lonely, but this morning, she wanted to enjoy the
solitude of the sunshine. The quiet before the storm. It would be
great to see all her friends in a few hours, but the real
excitement of the holidays and the wedding would start.

The hustle and bustle of the holidays was always a
fun time at home. Or at least it had been while her parents were
alive. She had celebrated the holidays with the East family for
almost seven years now. Whitney realized with a start that she had
not bought a single Christmas present for her friends who were
arriving later this morning. That settled it. After breakfast, she
would take advantage of the unscheduled morning downtown and do her
Christmas shopping.

The glass storefront reflected the morning sun, but
she could still see the holiday displays. She paused in front of a
jewelry store, admiring a set of earrings and a necklace that would
be perfect with the dress Taylor had picked out for her to wear to
the wedding. She hadn’t thought of jewelry in her hurry to pack and
get down to the island ten days ago. Now, she wondered what she
would wear with that strapless dress. At least she had a tan.

Whitney went in the shop to ask the price of the
earring and necklace set and asked to try it on. She put the
necklace on and held the earrings up to her ears. Perfect. She
loved the way it brought out the color of her skin. Pink set off by
silver. The combination was unusual and exquisite. She gazed in the
round mirror standing on the glass countertop and considered buying
it. It was quite a bit more expensive than she thought it would be,
though, and she still had a lot of shopping to do. Maybe later.

As she left the store and paused in the window once
more to admire the set, she thought she caught a reflection right
behind her. It was a familiar reflection of broad shoulders and a
blue shirt, but when she turned around, it was gone. There were a
number of tourists out and about on the street, but she didn’t see
Chris anywhere. She thought she must be imagining things.

****

Chris strolled downtown and got breakfast. As he was
turning to head home, he saw familiar long brown hair cascading
over straight slim shoulders that he knew intimately. Whitney was
admiring something in the window. He stepped into an alley across
the street and watched her enter the jewelry store and leave empty
handed. She paused to look in the window once more before turning
around sharply. Chris quickly stepped into the shadows again and
escaped detection. When she was far enough away, he crossed the
street and went into the store.

It only took him a moment to find out from the clerk
what jewelry Whitney had been interested in and had, in fact, tried
on. On the impulse of the moment, he bought it and arranged to have
it delivered to East Pointe with a Christmas card he wrote out
himself. He knew he shouldn’t send the gift and couldn’t explain
why he was doing it, but he found he was not in control right
now.

“Mornin’ boss,” Rick said as soon as Chris stepped
outside the jewelry store. “Doing a little shopping for your
mother?”

Chris grinned. “My mother wouldn’t let me pick out
jewelry for her on a bet,” he said.

“Maybe something nice for your favorite employee?”
Rick asked. He raised an eyebrow at Chris and gave him a crooked
smile. “I’m partial to pearls, myself.”

“You know who it’s for, and it’s just business,”
Chris said. “I finished her work, hopefully to her satisfaction,
and I didn’t think it would hurt to throw in a little—”

“Bribe?” Rick suggested. “You don’t think she’s
going to follow through on any of her threats to turn you in to the
insurance company, do you?”

“Hope not.”

“I guess we’ll see. You look like hell, Chris. Go
home and take a long nap. Maybe Santa will be good to you this
year.”

“What are you doing this morning, Rick?”

“Shopping for my daughter and the grandkids. It’s
going to be chaos on Christmas morning at my place, but you’re
welcome to come over if you don’t have any other plans.”

“Might take you up on that if I’m in the mood for a
little chaos,” Chris said. He and Rick headed in opposite
directions, and Chris thought about Rick’s offer. What
was
he doing on Christmas morning? Even with tourists milling around
and sunshine touching every surface in the busy street, Chris felt
a cool wave of loneliness wash over him.

****

Whitney tried to enjoy herself. She window-shopped
all the way down the street and then got serious on the return trip
and started going into the shops she’d scoped out. She had a
colorful straw bag slung over her shoulder and it was nearly filled
with gifts for Taylor and her parents, and a few indulgences for
herself.

Almost lunchtime, Whitney stopped in the outdoor
café one last time. It would be her last meal alone, probably,
because the East family should arrive at the airport within the
hour.

She selected a table with a hot pink umbrella close
to the street. Had that been a glimpse of Chris she saw earlier?
Not that she had chosen this table just in the vain hope of seeing
him, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep her eyes open. Even though she
was still angry at his deception, and she couldn’t forget how he’d
nearly ruined Taylor’s wedding, she still missed him. For a few
perfect days, she thought she found romance in paradise.

Instead of one of the young pretty waitresses, Mavis
herself came over to her table.

“Did you deliver my message to Mr. Maxwell?” she
asked without preamble.

“I did,” Whitney said, glancing up at the now
familiar oversized apron covering an ample bosom and leathery
skin.

“And did you take him that food?” Mavis asked.

“Uh-huh,” Whitney said. Her appetite was strong when
she first came in, but now her insides felt hollow. Maybe she
should just leave and eat something at home. She could bake
Christmas cookies and the house would smell homey when the family
arrived. A girl could live on cookies if she had to.

“Good,” Mavis said. “Got something else for you to
take him.” She hurried away and Whitney sat there, feeling stunned
and wondering what on earth she was going to do. Making another
food delivery was next to impossible. Chris was not at her place
and she didn’t know where he lived. Not that it would be too hard
to find out.

A waitress came and Whitney half-heartedly ordered
the lunch special without even looking at it. She was waiting for
the large woman in the colorful apron to return. She didn’t have to
wait long. Mavis wound her way through the tables on the outdoor
patio and parked herself in a chair across from Whitney. She had a
large brown envelope in her hands.

“This is what I want you to give’em,” she said as
she pushed the envelope toward Whitney.

“I can’t deliver anything to Chris,” Whitney
said.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not…I mean we’re not…”

“I’d walk it up the street to his house myself, but
it’s gettin’ busy here with the holiday tourists and all.”

“Up the street?” Whitney asked. Her mouth was dry
and she felt like she was a swimmer being shoved around by a strong
unseen current.

“To his house, at Blue Isle Construction. I don’t
know why a man so fine as that lives in a tiny house no one wanted
anymore anyway, but I guess he likes being close to his work.”

“I guess so,” Whitney lamely agreed.

“All he does is work, and we’re all gettin’ sick of
the fact that he won’t take nothing for it.”

Whitney stared at her, not sure what to say.

“Just tell’em he’s gonna take that money ‘cause he
earned it.” Mavis heaved herself out of the chair and stood in
front of Whitney. “Tell’em I’m sorry it’s all in cash, but this is
a cash type of business,” she said, gesturing around her
restaurant.

Mavis started to walk away, but Whitney stopped her.
“When you said ‘we’, who did you mean?”

“I mean us locals. Blue Isle Construction’s been
fixin’ and rebuildin’ all fall since that hurricane. He fixed our
houses first and then our businesses, even though most of us don’t
have insurance. I don’t know where he come up with the money for
supplies, and he ain’t taken a dime that I know of from
anybody.”

Whitney stared at her, clarity beginning to
dawn.