Some Like Them Rich Page 13

  I smiled and waved in return. I wasn’t ready. And this was apparent three sets later when he creamed me 6-1.

  “Nice game,” he said, meeting me at the net for the traditional handshake. We walked to the side of the court to collect our belongings.

  “You’ll have to give me a rematch.” I refused to tell him that I wasn’t at my best. It would sound like an excuse.

  “I’d love to. But we’ll have to do it back in Jersey.”

  “Jersey?”

  “I’m afraid I have to leave later this morning.”

  “Has something happened?” Don had told me Bob was staying for a week.

  “Something good. It’s business. A major deal with a big pharma company.”

  I could see the excitement in every line of his body.

  “It’s something I’ve dreamed about, but never thought would happen.” He stopped and looked at the sky, giving a big laugh as a thank-you to the heavens. “We approached them with an idea for a joint venture. And I got word yesterday that they want to talk.”

  “Congratulations. “I gave him my best smile and tried to look as excited as he felt. “When do you leave?”

  “I’m taking the ferry at noon.”

  “Can you wait that long? You look like you could fly under your own power.”

  He laughed. “I have time for breakfast. Would you like to join me?”

  I was starving. I hadn’t had anything to eat since dinner last night. But going into the dining room or even eating outside meant Don would invariably come by, and I wasn’t ready to face him just yet.

  “I not very hungry,” I lied. “I’ll get something back at the house after I shower.” I paused a moment. “I’m sure you have some last-minute packing to do and you’ll want to prepare for your meeting.”

  “I made some notes and thought of a few other things to put in a presentation.”

  I smiled. I was truly happy for him.

  “Well, it was great meeting you,” he said. He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek just as he done last night. His skin was warm, but nothing fissured through me at his touch the way lightning struck when Don came near me.

  “I would like to see you again. New York and New Jersey aren’t that far apart,” Bob said.

  “I agree. I’d like to see you again, too.”

  He handed me a card. It was his business card and identified him as the CEO of a biotech firm. On the back, in a strong scrawl, he’d written his home and cell phone numbers.

  I opened my purse and pulled out my own card. It was cream colored and contained only my name and phone number. I’d had them printed a few days before we left just for situations like this one. Bob took the card. He seemed at a loss for what to say or do next.

  I read his dilemma of excitement for a new challenge and confusion at leaving another one. “It’s all right,” I said. “You should hurry. You don’t want to miss the ferry.”

  I watched him leave. His day was going well. I knew from the way he’d played tennis that he liked winning. The lightness of his step gave away his expectancy about the upcoming deal. Already I was a memory, replaced by a new hunt, a new hunger that was inherent in his being. Beating me at tennis was another victory he could add to the roll of good fortune that seemed to be coming his way.

  I was happy for him. I wanted more time to learn about him. Maybe he was the one. He certainly had the assets. And now he had my phone number, but who knew if he’d use it.

  I looked at the card I was holding. Telephone lines and rotating satellites worked both ways. And I knew how to dial a phone.

  Bob had no sooner disappeared through the trees than Don came walking over. I wondered if he’d been waiting in the bushes for the moment Bob left. Slipping the business card in the pocket of my shorts, I turned to face Don.

  “How’d it go?” he asked.

  “Weren’t you watching?” He always seemed to be underfoot, and frankly I was a little miffed at the moment. I didn’t need him showing up as a reminder of what had happened last night. Or to gloat over my lost prospect. It was daylight now and things were different.

  “Of course I wasn’t watching. I just saw Bob bounding up the stairs. I guess that means you didn’t beat him.”

  “He beat me solidly,” I confessed. I started walking to the parking lot. Don’s appearance jangled my nerves, and I needed to do something other than stand in front of him and remember the strength of his naked body plunging into mine.

  “Beat you or did you let him win?”

  “I never let anyone win intentionally. You should know that. “As soon as the words left my mouth I realized the double meaning they could have.

  “Did it have anything to do with …”

  “He’s leaving.” I said it quickly, refusing to let Don complete the sentence. I didn’t want to have him saying anything about last night. My feelings were as jumbled as Christmas tree lights after a summer in storage.

  “Leaving?” The surprised look on Don’s face told me he didn’t know about Bob’s good news.

  “A lucrative business deal seems to be falling into place. He has to go back.”

  “Well, that should be good news for you. You’re looking for a man with money. Bob’s your man. He’s got both potential and a fortune. And with your looks, you two could go to the top.”

  “Stop it.” I stared at him, withering him with my look. “I hate it when you try to make me feel guilty.”

  “I’m not trying to do that. I’m pointing out the parts of your plan you don’t want to confront. It’s not my fault you don’t like what you see.”

  “What do you see, Don?”

  “I see a beautiful woman, selling herself to the man with the highest bank account.”

  “I’m not selling myself to anyone.” I threw my racket through the car window and onto the backseat. Then I looked up at Don. “Would it be more palatable to you if I went to a computer and pulled up a dating service window? I could fill in all the pertinent information: eye color, weight, educational background, values, what I want out of life …”

  “Net worth?” he supplied.

  “Net worth,” I continued. “Then I’d qualify to pull the dance cards of the men with the most potential and fortune.”

  He stood mutely.

  “What I’m doing is no different. Instead of using a computer, I’m using a music festival, a tennis court, a huge house, and all the money I have in the world.” I stared at him for a long moment. “It isn’t me who doesn’t like what I’m doing. It’s you.”

  “You’re right. You’re damn right,” he told me. “I don’t like it. You can try to whitewash it if you want, but it sneaky, deliberate, and downright immoral.”

  “And you have a better plan.”

  He took a step forward. I wanted to move back, but forced myself to remain in place. Tension radiated between us like burning jet fuel. After a long moment, Don dropped his shoulders and stepped back. He shook his head, the gesture clearly defeatist.

  “No, I don’t have a better plan. But I wish to hell I did.”

  What in the hell was I doing? What was I thinking? Why did this woman have the ability to turn me into a sixteen-year-old, hormone-ridden kid who couldn’t control his erections? I had responsibilities to the hotel guests, a meeting to prepare for, presentations to complete. Yet every moment of the day and night was filled with thoughts of Amber Nash.

  I’d made sure I was around the tennis court when she and Bob finished their game. I wanted to see her. When I’d left her sleeping this morning, I knew I wanted her there when I got back. I wanted to come in at the end of the day and find her.

  But she was looking for someone else.

  Hearing that Bob was leaving the Vineyard, cutting his vacation short for a business deal was a welcome relief in my eyes. One less competitor, I thought. Yet I wasn’t a competitor. I wasn’t on Amber’s radar. So why was I beating my head against a brick wall?

  I nearly fell over when I saw her standing on my d
oorstep last night. She really only needed a place to sleep, but I needed more than that. I needed her, and I wasn’t about to forgo an opportunity to see if we could repeat our first mating.

  The answer was no.

  The repeat was an experience that had grown up, graduated, not by a notch but by a Grand Canyon leap. Being with her was like winning the world lottery.

  But I wasn’t going to be with her.

  Amber pulled out of the parking lot, leaving a layer of rubber behind. It was my fault, but I didn’t care. I was angry and I hated myself for it. She had not pretended with me. She told me what she wanted. I’m the fool who took it as a challenge, who thought I could change her mind. But she was on a track and nothing I did had derailed her.

  I couldn’t say what was wrong with me. She was beautiful, but not the most beautiful woman I’d ever met. She had brains and went after what she wanted. These were qualities that I admired, but didn’t often see in the women I dated.

  What ticked the hell out of me was the way we were together. The fire and the explosions that occurred when we joined, even the sparks that flew between us when we were both in the same room, I wanted no man to know about except me. I wanted this woman like I’d never wanted anyone else.

  But she didn’t want me. And that pissed the hell out of me.

  I made a point of not slamming the door as I came into the house. I wanted to rip the wood from the hinges. Why did I let Don Randall do this to me? And why was he always somewhere just behind me?

  “Is that you, Amber?” I heard Jack call my name from the kitchen. I could hear Lila, too. I didn’t expect them to be awake yet. Following the sound, I joined them.

  The coffee was fresh and I poured myself a cup and leaned against the counter while I took a sip.

  “Been out all night?” Lila asked, her lip turning up in a gesture of innocent knowing.

  “Don’t start with me,” I told her. “I’m in no mood. And where I’ve been is your fault.”

  “My fault?” She feigned surprise. “What did I do?”

  I glanced at the table where she was sitting. It was the same seat she’d occupied last night when I walked in on her. Except this time, it was her ass that was in the chair instead of a half-naked man’s. At that moment I stopped. I could see myself about to say or do something foolish. My anger wasn’t with Lila. “I’m sorry, Lila. It isn’t your fault.”

  “What isn’t her fault?” Jack asked. She swung her glance from me to Lila and back again.

  “Nothing,” I said and put my cup on the counter. I walked toward the door, thinking of going to my room and sleeping. Lord knows I didn’t get a good night’s sleep last night. And I could kick myself this morning for what I actually did. What I told myself I would never do again.

  “Amberlina.” Jack knew the one word that would stop me in my tennis shoes. “What is going on?”

  I turned back, making an effort to dampen the anger that flared bright red in my mind.

  “Nothing is going on,” I said. “I’m a little tired. I lost at tennis this morning.”

  “To that dreamy hotel manager?” Lila purred, her voice both teasing and approving. She scooted her bottom around in the chair and wiggled her shoulders, doing her version of the sexual dance.

  I clamped my teeth together. “I didn’t play against Don.” That wasn’t true. I’d been doing nothing except playing against Don since I stepped on this island.

  “So, who did you play?”

  “It doesn’t matter. He’s leaving this morning anyway.”

  “Who?”

  “Why?”

  Lila and Jack spoke at the same time.

  “His name is Bob Yancey. He owns a biotech in New Jersey.”

  “Mmm, close to home,” Jack said. “Owns his own company. Sounds like he fits the bill, or at least he’s on the right side of the street.”

  I frowned. Bob had seemed perfect. Why was I second-guessing him now?” It’s business that’s taking him back to New Jersey. It comes first in his life. I know it always will. If I was to call him …” I reached in my pocket and pulled out the card he’d given me, waving it slightly in the air. “I know I’d never be the one. Business would always come before me. It’s not something I can’t live with. It might be a good thing. I haven’t totally crossed him off the list. In fact, he’s heading it at the moment. But I’m keeping my options open in case he’s not the man I’m looking for.”

  “Who are you looking for? That hotel guy seems pretty hot to me,” Lila said.

  “Let’s leave him out of this.”

  “I’ve always felt that type of comment meant you think of no one else except the one you want to leave out.” Lila emphasized the last two words, giving each one of them a full measure of time. “So come on, tell us what’s got you so agitated.”

  “That’s who or whom?” Jack filled in. “I could never remember the difference. But both of them relate to a man.”

  “So sit down and spill it.”

  I hesitated a while, taking a moment to look from one to the other, but the two women in this room were my best friends. I walked back to my seat and sat down. I told them the story. Everything that had happened since we stepped out of the limousine and entered this house.

  When I finished, there was silence. Jack and Lila stared at me as if there was more, an ending I was withholding.

  “And you’re not crazy about this guy?” Jack broke the silence.

  “He’s not the reason I came here.”

  “Fuck the reason,” Lila said. “He’s the one.”

  “No, he’s not,” I moaned. “And I don’t think he wants to see me.” I remembered our argument this morning. Don was so angry.

  “Then go see him,” Jack said.

  “Go see him,” I mimicked. “I’m not going to see him. I don’t care if I ever see him again.”

  Jack and Lila gave each other a knowing look.

  “I don’t,” I stated as boldly as if I’d stamped my foot.

  The Inkwell pitched out to sea in a triangular shape. Most people expected it to stretch around in the horseshoe arc that suggested its name. I sat in my beach chair writing. Well, I was thinking of writing. Usually this was what I did in the early morning while I waited for Don to come by on his daily jog. Usually he would stop, hunker down in the sand, and spend a few minutes with me. But he’d been missing for the past few days.

  The first day I thought he was sulking. Childish behavior for a grown man, but no one liked to have their ego trampled on, no matter what age. The second and third days I chalked up to anger. Now I was wondering if something had happened to him. While I was at the hotel, refusing to change my routine even if he changed his, there wasn’t a sign of him. He didn’t appear while I went through my dives or when I swam laps. My daily lesson to Joel went unattended by anyone except the boy’s father.

  No one mentioned Don to me either, and there was no idle conversation that I overheard where his name came up. He’d disappeared as surely as a ghost could dematerialize.

  Now I thought Don was avoiding me. Why? What did I do? I wasn’t the one who gave him my key and invited him to my bed. I didn’t ask him to get involved with me. This was all his idea. I was open with my plan. He was the one who jumped in with the suggestion of helping. So I harbored no guilt over the way he felt.

  Turning back to my notebook, I read the page I had written and poised my pen to write another sentence. Nothing came. Looking out on the ocean, I listened to the lapping of waves, the caw of the gulls overhead, and the soft whisper of the breeze. And in the back of my mind, I listened for the pounding feet of a jogger heading my way.

  It was a sound that did not come.

  Giving up, I packed my things early and returned to the house. There was still a full day’s activities I had planned. I wouldn’t have to think of Don Randall unless I wanted to. And right now he was the last thing on my mind.

  The fact that there was nothing else blocking him was a minor point.

&nb
sp; Being a woman born and bred in Brooklyn, the closest to a horse I’d come, prior to stepping on this island, was seeing the mounted police in the Central Park. But of the new experiences I collected day after day, I found that I liked horses and I liked riding.

  Amber spent her mornings by the ocean; I spent mine on horseback. Today I arrived a few minutes early and was doing some window-shopping at the stable gift shop when a shadow hulked over me.

  I felt him before I saw him.

  Whipping around, fear catching me and forcing my heart rate up several points, I saw Shane.

  “Well, if it isn’t the postcard lady. Jacynthia, right?”

  “Shane,” I said, relieved it was him and not some stranger bent on an early-morning attack in an upscale gift shop. “Good memory.”

  The smile on my face, after the fear wore off, must have been as bright as the sun. For a moment my heart tugged. I hadn’t expected to see him again. I wasn’t sure if he was still on the Vineyard. The concert was a week ago. Yet it was a pleasure and a relief to see him.

  “I thought you’d have left the Vineyard by now,” I said.

  “I’m here for awhile,” he said. “Glad to see you’re still here, too.”

  I nodded. “I’m here for the summer.” I wanted him to keep talking, wanted him to stay around. I couldn’t ever remembering feeling like I wanted someone to be there for me.

  “How did you like the show? I saw you in the audience.”

  “It was great. We tried to get backstage to thank you, but security stopped us before we could get near the entrance. Without a pass there was no going.”

  He nodded. “Everyplace is more careful these days.”

  I understood. My heart was still drumming at seeing him again. For a moment I wondered what Amber would think if she saw me talking to a member of the band. But then I pushed thoughts of her aside. I liked Shane, and what could it hurt to spend some time with him? It wasn’t like we were walking down the aisle.

  “I didn’t have any passes with me when I met you or I’d have given you a couple.”

  “That’s all right. It was very kind of you to give me the tickets. I was a total stranger.”