Last Call (Book #2 - Heat Wave Series) Read online

  She’d only met Jason once, a few weeks earlier while dining with her parents, but she overheard women in restrooms, on tennis courts, and at social gatherings talking about that smile. Women of all ages and marital status swooned when he flashed it. Held spellbound by it now, she understood the fuss.

  Never one to miss a chance at flirting with a hot guy, Jen smiled coquettishly and said, “We need a table for three.” She widened her blue eyes and batted her eyelashes. “Unless you can join us. In that case, we need a table for four.”

  Jason’s laugh was easy and natural and… unbelievable… his smile grew even brighter. “I wish I could.” His gaze shifted between the three of them before settling back on Callie. “Unfortunately, I’ve just started working and won’t get off for another eight hours. That would be a long wait.”

  “I’d wait six months,” Tiffany muttered under her breath.

  Callie was too caught up in his mouth to say anything intelligible, but Jen’s extensive experience kept her from missing a beat. “Maybe we’ll come back for drinks this evening.”

  He laughed politely but didn’t comment. Grabbing three of the daily menus, he said, “Follow me.”

  Anywhere.

  The thought came from nowhere and sent a wave of guilt through Callie. How could she be breathless over Jason when she was head-over-heels for Gavin? Shouldn’t she be blind to all other men?

  Jason stopped at a table overlooking the fifth green of the world-class golf course. “Is this table suitable?” The question was directed toward all three of them, but his dark chocolate eyes were on Callie.

  That was what she wanted from Gavin. She wanted his full attention directed at her like she was the only one standing in front of him. For him to ask her a question—even if it was something as simple as a table choice—and for her answer to matter.

  The way he interacted with the bartender.

  The mental jabbering made her head spin, so she slapped a lid on it by wondering if Jason would be working tomorrow night. How would he react to the little red dress? How might Gavin respond to some competition? Maybe a good dose of jealousy would get Gavin moving in the right direction… Toward her.

  She smiled at Jason and tried to be flirtatious without being as obvious as Jen. “This is great. Thanks.”

  While Jason pulled out chairs to seat them, Callie glanced around the mostly empty dining room, then into the side room reserved for groups. Her gaze landed on a familiar face… with features nearly identical to hers. On a gasp, she said, “Ohmigod.”

  Jason, Jen, and Tiffany all swung their attention to Callie. Concern filled Jason’s eyes as he let go of the chair and reached for her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m fine. It’s just… well…” Her fingers went to her throat as she turned to Jen and made big, our-mothers-are-in-that-room eyes. Smiling nervously, she said, “I was supposed to get something for my mother while I was shopping, and I forgot. When I saw her standing over there”—she narrowed her eyes at Jen—“with Jen and Tiffany’s mothers, I remembered.” She straightened and pinned an all-is-well smile onto her face. “No biggie. I overreacted. Sorry.”

  Jason laughed and let go of her forearm. She was in such shock over seeing not only their mothers, but the entire women’s investment group in which their mothers belonged, she didn't even realize he had hold of her. But now that he’d let go, she missed the heat of his palm and the tender concern in the touch.

  Somewhere, in the recesses of her mind, she realized that was an inappropriate reaction. She shouldn’t have liked his touch. She shouldn’t have had any reaction at all. But she did, and at some point, she supposed, she’d have to consider what that meant.

  Right now, however, she needed to speak with her mother. “We’ll need to wait to be seated,” she said to Jason. “If we don’t speak, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

  Tiffany and Jen were already headed toward the private room, leaving Callie alone with Jason. He laughed and pushed the chairs back into place. “I understand. I made sure I spoke to my mother as soon as she arrived.”

  “Your mother is part of that group?” Why did that shock her?

  Probably because she assumed anyone who worked here didn’t come from a family wealthy enough to be a member of the country club. Let alone have a mother with enough expendable income to belong to an investment group that required a twenty thousand dollar membership fee.

  If he was offended by her surprised response, he didn’t let on. His smile didn’t falter, and his eyes showed no signs of cooling. “She’s one of the founding members.”

  “Oh, wow.” If that was the case… “Why do you…?” Realizing how rude her question was, she let the sentence fall off.

  “Why do I work here?” he asked.

  She cleared her throat and tried to meet his gaze, but failed miserably. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

  “It’s okay. It surprises most people. Especially those who know I have a large enough trust fund that I don’t have to work a day in my life. But I can’t hang around and do nothing but play golf and tennis. I have a degree in finance, but the idea of sitting in an office all day makes me itch.” He shrugged and smiled confidently. “I like working here. I get to see old friends and their parents. I get to meet new people.” His gaze softened, and she had the impression he considered meeting her a good thing. “Someday, I’ll do something different. For now, I like this.”

  Callie was stunned. She and Jason were more alike than she believed. Yet they were very different. She had no problem hanging around all day, doing nothing. The idea of getting a job, especially in the service industry, made her shudder.

  Agitated by the conversation and, she realized, with herself, she said, “I guess I should go.”

  He nodded and smiled. “Hopefully I’ll see you again. Soon.”

  She started to walk away, then turned back. “Are you working tomorrow night?”

  He smiled, and something shifted in his eyes. “I am.”

  A flitter of anticipation rushed through her system and settled low in her belly. She pressed a hand to her stomach to soothe the unease, but the pressure caused the excitement to fragment and spread to a thousand locations throughout her body. Uncomfortable with the response and anxious to leave before she embarrassed herself, she muttered, “I’ll see you tomorrow night,” then rushed to the safety of her mother.

  ***

  While Robby worked on the leaky sink and Sunny worked on a new copper sculpture in her workshop, Gavin sat on the stoop of her porch like a stray dog. He should be gone by now, but for some reason he kept hanging around.

  He’d been sitting on the stoop, phone in hand, Max’s number brought up on autodial for ten minutes. All he needed to do was hit the “send” button, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

  Mostly because he still didn’t have a freaking clue what to say to Max.

  He’d never been faced with a situation like this, and he was at a total loss as to how to proceed. Max knew Gavin so well, it would take less than twenty seconds of conversation for him to figure out Gavin was as big an obstacle as Sunny.

  If this were any other woman, he’d use Robby’s leaving for college and her fear of running the place by herself against her. He’d exploit her insecurities. He’d point out how helpful the proceeds from the sale would be in paying for Robby’s college tuition, along with his other expenses. It wasn’t something she mentioned, but it had to be a concern.

  He would remind her of those fears and keep reminding her of them, until they grew and expanded into giant, scary monsters she didn’t think she could slay. At that point, she would agree it was in her best interest to sell and be out from under the bar.

  But the thought of doing any of those things to Sunny made him physically ill. The fact that he would have done it to anyone disgusted him and left him so full of self-loathing he felt like he needed to scrub his insides with bleach.

  She may feel like Robby was an integral part of
getting the bar up and running, but aside from the physical labor, how much help could an eighteen-year-old have been. Whether she admitted it or not, the lion’s share of work and stress had been on Sunny, and she was more than capable of running the business alone.

  Gavin wouldn’t—couldn’t—crush her spirit by planting any doubts in her mind about her ability to keep things going after Robby left for college.

  He glanced at the phone in his hand and cringed. He still didn’t know how to handle this, but he couldn’t put the inevitable off any longer. He took a deep breath, hit the send button, and waited for Max to answer.

  Chapter Fourteen

  By the time Callie put away her purchases and returned to the living room of the guesthouse, Tiffany and Jen had the blender whirling. Three o’clock was margaritas-by-the-pool time, and after the harrowing afternoon she had at the club, she needed several. However, before she changed into her swimsuit and dove into a tall, frozen glass, she needed to go to her father’s office.

  Gavin didn’t come by the house every evening, but since he was sent to Anticue on that special project, she thought he might stop by today. If he was expected, she wanted to be in her best swimsuit, sitting in the right chair when he arrived.

  The problem was, she couldn’t remember which chair was the right one.

  She tapped on the French doors and peeked through the glass. As expected, she found her father sitting at his desk, motioning her to come inside.

  “Good afternoon, princess. How was shopping?”

  “Wonderful.” She kissed him on the cheek before taking up residence in Gavin’s chair. “I found a gorgeous Valentino to wear tomorrow night. It’s not like the dresses I usually wear, so I’m really excited about it.” And petrified.

  Max beamed. “I'm glad you found something you like.”

  Without being obvious, she glanced out the door and scoped out the chairs lining the far side of the pool. Sitting in the pink one, she’d be in Gavin’s direct line of sight. She would wear her purple two-piece.

  That settled, she turned her thoughts back to the conversation. “I hope Gavin likes it.”

  Or Jason.

  The thought was so strong she almost expected to see someone standing behind her, whispering in her ear. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since leaving the club, and she found it disconcerting. He wasn’t only handsome; he was also nice. But the thing she liked the most was the way he looked at her. Really looked at her.

  The desk phone rang, jarring her from her thoughts. Max looked at caller ID and smiled as he hit the speakerphone button. “Hey, Gavin. Give me some good news.”

  Gavin muttered something that sounded an awful lot like cursing, then said, “Sorry, Max. No can do.”

  Her daddy’s eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. “Why not?”

  “The owner adamantly refuses to sell. She won’t even discuss the possibility.”

  She?

  Max leaned back in his chair and glared at the phone like it was a noxious piece of debris. “So change her mind.”

  Gavin cursed again. After a pause that seemed to drag on for hours, he said, “She’s pretty strong-willed and determined.” He laughed. “She even has a tattoo on her wrist that reads ‘never give up.’”

  Callie didn’t like the way Gavin’s voice went soft and mushy, and an icky sickness began to build. She grabbed a piece of paper and pen from Max’s desk and wrote, Ask him if he’s talking about the bartender.

  Max flipped his gaze to Callie and nodded before turning to stare out the window. A blank expression—what she always called his thinking face—settled over his features. The house could fall down around him when he was in this mode, and he wouldn’t notice. “What’s your next move?” His voice was as tight as the set of his jaw.

  Gavin didn’t answer, and she knew he was wearing his thinking face, too. When Gavin didn’t want to answer a question, he’d pause and think it over, carefully choosing his words. Finally, he said, “I’m not sure.”

  The uncharacteristic lack of confidence in his voice sent a lead weight rolling around in her stomach. Gavin was supposed to convince the owner, who Callie now realized was also the bartender, to sell her property. Max wanted Gavin to do whatever was necessary, and she wanted Gavin to come home. Trying to grapple with the mounting hurt and frustration, she wrote, Is he coming here this evening?

  Her father nodded in acknowledgment of the note and said, “I guess we need to discuss this further and figure out our next move. How soon can you be here?”

  Another long pause. “I won’t be able to make it tonight.”

  Max’s expression remained impassive. “Why not?”

  “I’m still in Anticue.”

  Callie swallowed the rising nausea and panic. Her father’s plan was working. Gavin was with the bartender. And not with her as in working out negotiations, but with her in the way Callie wanted to be.

  She wanted to yell and scream and cry and punch something. But she was an adult, so she’d settle for getting drunk. Her father had gone from annoyed to smiling… until he glanced across the desk at Callie. His face fell and he snatched up the receiver.

  “I guess if you can’t make it back tonight, we can spend some time talking about this tomorrow night.” He paused, listened to Gavin, then said, “Lorraine’s retirement party.”

  Her father seemed momentarily caught off-guard, then said, “You can’t disappoint Lorraine by not showing.”

  She couldn’t hear Gavin’s response, but Max’s eyes narrowed and his jaw popped. “Watch yourself, Gavin.”

  Callie knew her father and Gavin argued at times, but she never witnessed it. Hearing her father’s tense chastisement sent nervous jitters down her spine.

  After another long pause, her daddy said, “I don’t know how much vacation time you have. What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Another pause. “You can’t be serious.” Another pause. “Fine. We’ll discuss all of this at the retirement party.” Without giving Gavin a chance to respond, her father slammed the receiver into its cradle.

  Callie was stunned. She’d never seen her daddy upset with Gavin, and it unnerved her. “Is everything all right?”

  Max took a deep breath and smiled. “Of course. Now, go on out and enjoy the pool with your friends. Don’t worry about a thing.”

  She tried to smile as she slipped through the french doors, but it was kind of hard to do with her bottom lip quivering. She led a sheltered life, and that’s probably why this seemed like such a big deal. But she had a really bad feeling about this situation.

  She saw the way Gavin looked at that bartender and the way the bartender responded to Gavin. No matter how hard she tried, Callie couldn’t make herself believe this would turn out okay for her.

  ***

  Growling in frustration, Gavin disconnected the call and slammed the phone down on the stoop. He jammed his elbows onto his knees and dropped his head into his upraised hands.

  He didn’t know why he was so annoyed. The conversation had actually gone better than he expected. The only thing Max went ape-shit over was Gavin missing the retirement party—like Lorraine gave a shit if he was there or not. She’d probably rather not be there herself.

  Knowing she’d go crazy with nothing to do, Gavin planned to visit her next week, anyway. Now, he’d have a good excuse. He’d also send her a dozen roses, along with a note of apology.

  However, Gavin was smart enough to read between the lines and figure out the real problem with him not going to the party wasn’t Lorraine, but Callie. The time was coming for a sit down with Max, or with Max and Callie, to spell things out for them… slowly…. and plainly.

  He. Wasn’t. Interested. Not today. Not next week. Never.

  He thought about the note in his pocket and laughed. Maybe he should write a note, stick it under their noses, and make them recite it out loud. With feeling.

  “What are you laughing about?”

  He lifted his head and found Sunny
at the bottom of the stairs, watching him. “I’m thinking about writing a note to get my point across. Like someone did to me.”

  She grinned as she walked up the stairs, then sat on the step below him. “Was that your boss?”

  “Yeah.”

  She tilted her head to the side and studied him. “He’s not happy.”

  “He’s never happy.” Gavin picked at a piece of peeling paint on the steps. “It actually went better than I expected.”

  Hope lit her eyes. “He accepted my refusal without a fuss?”

  “Hell, no.” The laugh that burst from his chest was harsh and held no trace of humor. “He’s mostly pissed off about me standing up the little princess tomorrow night. The whole sale thing will hit him later tonight or tomorrow morning. Then he’ll call back.”

  For the second time since ending his conversation with Max, something tugged at the back of Gavin’s mind. He couldn’t put his finger on what, or where, in the conversation he felt something was off, but something surprised him.

  Sunny’s eyes crinkled as she grinned. “The little princess? Would that be the brunette?”

  “The one and only.”

  Sunny relaxed back against the railing. “Do you mind explaining that situation to me?”

  “It’s pretty simple. Callie’s had a crush on me since I went to work for Holden. I was twenty-two; she was fourteen. I imagine it was her first crush, and it’s one she’s insisted on retaining.”

  “So you guys never dated?”

  Gavin felt his lip curl and his face scrunch up like he was about to hurl. It wasn’t that Callie revolted him, but the idea of dating someone who felt like a sister made him… well, want to hurl.

  Sunny laughed and slapped him on the knee. “Okay. I get it. That’s a definite no.” She picked at a string hanging from the bottom of her cut-off shorts. “So what about this property? What happens when he gets mad?”

  “A shit storm to rival Hurricane Hugo.” Gavin pushed his fingers through his hair. “I’ll meet with him on Monday to find out what he’s thinking and planning. Then I’ll figure out what we need to do to keep the storm from reaching the shore.” He smiled. “I did tell him I was going to use some of my accumulated vacation. That should buy us a little time.”