SecretsontheSandKobo

  “I really don’t know,” Amanda answered honestly. “He left before I could ask him.” Or tell him how I really felt.

  Lacey nodded, pushing back from her desk to end the meeting. Amanda stood right away. “Thank you so much, Lacey.”

  The other woman came around her desk and reached both arms out. “If it’s any consolation,” she said, giving Amanda an easy and warm embrace, “Clay and I broke up once, too. But he came back.”

  It was, in fact, no consolation at all.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The giant orange ball dipped over the cobalt waters of the Gulf, moments from melting into an aww-inducing puddle of gold. Barefoot Bay had never looked more glorious for the reunion that spanned class members from almost sixty years. They didn’t have senior adjectives before the 1970s, so the oldest party guests were over sixty and making up the nicknames now, based on memories.

  And those tables were definitely having the most fun, Amanda thought as she bussed another set of martini glasses and carried them to the open-air bar. Although, to be fair, Lacey’s idea was a huge success, with two hundred people falling in love with Casa Blanca, many sharing pictures on social media sites that would surely increase the resort’s visibility and bookings.

  Everyone was having fun...except Amanda. She was doing what she’d done for the past week. Cleaning up other people’s messes and wallowing in her own. She missed Zeke more every day and here? At the reunion, where he’d be a superstar and she’d be...

  No, she wouldn’t be. If she’d ever had a chance with him, she’d blown it by lying and hurting him. Sighing for the sixtieth time that hour, she glanced around, hating the tiny little tickle of hope that played with her heart, imagining he might...

  Stop it, you moron! He’s not coming back.

  There weren’t that many representatives from the class of 2002 in the crowd, though Amanda had run into a few people she remembered. No one commented on her lowly maid status—at least not to her face. Overall, the atmosphere was too festive, the music too upbeat, and the booze was flowing too freely for anyone to be mean.

  “Until now,” Amanda muttered under her breath, squinting across the beach to confirm that, yes, the bitch was back.

  Alone and dressed in her usual too-short, too-tight, and too-much, Tori kicked off her shoes and sashayed onto the sand.

  “What’s Tori the Tiger doing here?” The question came from behind the bar, making Amanda turn to meet the gaze of another housekeeper, who was also doing double duty working the big event.

  “Class of 2002,” Amanda said. “I guess she has as much right as any former Mimosa High student to be here.”

  Still, Amanda glanced around for Lacey to see if there was any reaction to the arrival of the former employee. Lacey stood in a large group, her baby—dressed in Mimosa High red-and-white overalls—on her hip. With her husband, Clay, at her side, Lacey was surrounded by friends and guests, reveling in the success of her party and her ever-growing business. She had no need to be concerned about Tori.

  So Amanda wouldn’t worry, either. Instead, she finished bussing the glasses and scooped up her empty tray, ready to go look for more to clean up. As she turned, she almost smacked into Tori.

  Oh, man. Really? “Excuse me,” she said, trying to sidestep Tori.

  “Oh, hello, Mrs. Lockhart.” Her smile was tight as she slid her gaze over Amanda’s uniform. “Interesting outfit for the reunion. No designer polka dots anymore? Oh, that’s right. Turns out your sugar daddy wasn’t so sweet after all.”

  Irritation skittered over her skin, tightening every nerve. Amanda forced a fake smile, refusing to make a scene at this event. “I’m working,” she said through gritted teeth.

  Tori glared at her, her gray eyes turning into angry slits. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  “You have nothing to say about it,” Amanda replied. “You did your work, you wrecked enough things for me, now get out of my way.”

  One eyebrow tipped up. “Wrecked things for you? We lost the outsourcing, and Jared dumped me.”

  Smart man. “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Are you? No doubt you’ll be after him next.”

  “Actually...” Amanda had to bite back a laugh. “There’s plenty of doubt. I’m not interested.”

  Tori leaned in close enough that Amanda caught a whiff of beer on her breath. “Does Lacey know? Does anyone else at Casa Blanca know? It wasn’t hard to find out you’re still married to Mr. Wanted By The Law.”

  “Mandy Mitchell!” They both turned at the exclamation, Tori inching back and Amanda almost dancing for the reprieve. A beautiful young woman with long black hair stepped forward, her dark eyes focused on Amanda. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  “I’m afraid...wait.” Amanda took in every detail of the woman’s striking, unforgettable and exotic looks, but couldn’t remember her name.

  “Frankie.” The woman put her hand out. “Frankie Cardinale. I was a freshman when you were a senior, so you probably don’t remember me.”

  The name was familiar, but she really couldn’t place a memory. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

  “Well, I remember you,” she said, nodding.

  For a moment, Amanda froze, waiting to hear of some horrible mistreatment she’d done back in her glory days.

  “Don’t tell me, she kicked you off the cheerleading squad for being too pretty.”

  The woman looked at Tori like she had an extra head. “Not by a long shot. My locker was by yours, Mandy. Because of some mistake, I was the only freshman in that hall.” She gave Amanda a slow smile. “You were the only senior who gave me the time of day during what was a really challenging year for me.”

  Tori let out a little snort of disbelief.

  “Oh! I do remember you,” Amanda said, returning the smile, seeing a scared, dark-haired little girl in her memory. She reached out a hand to Frankie. “And I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Mandy’s glad because it gives her more work to do,” Tori said. “She’s on staff at the resort. A maid.”

  Frankie nodded, her interest piqued. “Cool. I’m trying to meet people who work here because...” She let her voice fade as a low thumping filled the air and all around, people started looking up to the sky, a crowd-wide cheer of excitement rising.

  Amanda turned to the sunset, which often elicited applause, but this was different. The sound walloped through the air, drawing her gaze to the helicopter that hovered directly overhead.

  For one long moment, Amanda stared slack-jawed and suddenly filled with so much hope she could taste it. Was it possible that—

  “Well, someone wants to make a grand entrance,” Tori said wryly.

  Yes, someone did. Amanda’s traitorous heart leapt into her throat as she closed her eyes and let the thudding blades match her pulse. He was coming back for her!

  She fought the urge to run out and wave him down, watching the chopper dip left and right, zooming over the crowed and getting a huge hoot of pleasure from everyone around. Lots of glasses were raised, and people clapped and hollered, the sound deadened by the blood rushing in Amanda’s head.

  Once again, the bird tipped to either side, turned and flew over the crowd as if...he was looking for someone. Looking for...her?

  Stop it. Stop it, she ordered herself. She hated the slow heat that crawled over her, hated the expectation and thrill that clutched her heart and wouldn’t let go.

  Suddenly, the helicopter popped higher into the air and flew to the north.

  “Is he leaving?” someone called out.

  No, Zeke! Don’t leave! Amanda squeezed the tray so tightly it could have cracked in her hands. It had to be him. Who else? He was—

  “Looking for a place to land!” another voice announced.

  “Who is it?” a couple others called out.

  Amanda squinted into the setting sun to see Lacey and her group, but they all seemed as surprised as anyone. Lacey even covered the ears of her crying baby.
br />   Even this far away, Amanda could feel the pulse of the wind as the chopper dropped down on a deserted section of the beach. As though drawn magnetically, the crowd turned, and many started walking toward the new arrival.

  “Let’s go see,” Frankie said, putting her hand on Amanda’s arm. “Don’t you want to know who from Mimosa High can afford to take a helicopter to the party?”

  She ignored Tori’s gaze locked on her. Only one man could...

  No. She refused to let this hope steal her very breath. But how could she not? How could she not wish and dream that he rode in for her?

  Still carrying her tray, Amanda let Frankie lead her with the crowd, closer to the thumping drum of helicopter blades, the rhythm matching the voice in her head.

  He’d come back for her. He’d come back to help her. He’d come back...

  It was crazy, it was wrong, it was stupid. And it was impossible not to fantasize.

  “Hey, you’re shaking,” Frankie said.

  “Hey, you’re dreaming,” Tori added, on her other side.

  Amanda refused to look at either one of them. The crowd gathered closer to the helicopter, fifteen rows thick, with Amanda at the back as the noise finally abated.

  And then the door popped open, and Amanda lifted the tray, pressing it to her heart as if she could stop the insane pulse that shook her. It had to be him. It had to be—

  A man in a cowboy hat.

  She had to bite her lip to keep from letting the cry of disappointment escape her. Stupid, stupid girl.

  “Would you look at that?” Frankie whispered under her breath. “Take me to your rodeo, cowboy.”

  Tori elbowed her. “Not who you were expecting, was it, Cinderella?”

  She fought the overwhelming urge to smack the tray right over Tori’s head.

  “’Scuse me?” The cowboy stepped closer to the crowd, his long, lanky body moving with purpose. He took the hat off and shook out some dark hair, peering into the crowd.

  Holy cow, she knew that guy. It was Elliott Becker, one of the Niners she’d met in Miami.

  “Anyone here know a man named Frank Cardinale?”

  Next to her, Frankie gasped. “What the eff?”

  And suddenly, it was all clear. The name Cardinale was familiar because she’d heard it at the party—the owner of the land they wanted to purchase for the baseball team. No Prince Charming had blown in on his chopper to sweep her away. He’d stayed away from a woman who’d lied and hurt him so bad...and sent someone else to do his work.

  That didn’t stop her from peering around the crowd and the tall cowboy to see into the helicopter on the off chance...

  No. Elliott had come alone.

  The only thing worse than the disappointment that crushed her chest was the fact that Tori was right there, witnessing Amanda’s defeat.

  “I’m looking for Frank Cardinale,” Elliott called out.

  Still staring at him, still wishing to God he was someone else, Amanda whispered to the woman next to her. “I think he wants to buy your land.”

  When she didn’t answer, Amanda glanced to her left, but Frankie was gone. She turned, looking at the crowd behind her, but the other woman was darting away, headed in the other direction down the beach.

  “Excuse me, miss.” A man tapped Amanda’s shoulder, and she whipped around, thinking...

  Oh, she had to stop this right now. She smiled at the older man. “Yes?”

  “Could you clean up our table over here? We had a martini spill.”

  Amanda had to remember why she was here, and it wasn’t to entertain fairy tales that did not come true. “Of course.”

  One more time, Tori jabbed her. “Give ’em hell, Mrs. Lockhart. I got some drinking to do.”

  On an exhale that caught in her too-tight throat, Amanda turned from the scene and headed back to her tables. The senior citizens were definitely getting rowdy, and someone had clocked two glasses and spilled gin over the table.

  She reached for her rag, but she’d left it at the bar...where Tori now stood. Damn it, she didn’t want to go back there. She glanced around again, tapping her pocket and wishing a dishrag would magically appear.

  “Here, hon,” that same older man said, holding his hand out. “Use this.”

  She gave him a grateful smile and took the paper towel, opening it to—

  See words. Words written on the paper towel. She blinked at them, not able to read anything but seeing dark ink that had bled into the soft paper. A slow, agonizing trickle of awareness tiptoed up her spine, stealing her breath and making her head light.

  Using two fingers, she spread the paper.

  ...do agree to pay...

  She dropped the tray on the sand with a thud.

  ...imaginary girlfriend...

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Was this a trick of the fading light? Tori’s idea of a joke?

  ...activities that require the removal of...

  “Where did you get this?” she whispered, tearing her gaze from the paper towel to the man next to her.

  Silently, he pointed over her shoulder. Very slowly, as if in a dream, she turned around, and there he was. His hands in his pockets, his linen shirt loose in the breeze, his smile as sweet and warm and stunning as the sunset behind him.

  For the time it took her heart to stop then speed into overtime, they stared at each other.

  Zeke took a few steps closer, his blue eyes intent...and on her. Everything around them fell away, the laughter, the music, the world. When he was right in front of her, he dipped down on one knee, and then she heard the collective gasp from people around them.

  What was he doing? “Zeke...” His name came out in a croak.

  Looking down, he reached for the tray she’d dropped and lifted it to her. Oh, God, what a fool she was. She’d thought—

  And he placed a folded piece of paper on top of it.

  Still on one knee, he hoisted the tray higher, the paper on it fluttering in the breeze.

  “All this needs is your signature.”

  * * *

  The look on Mandy’s face was all Zeke needed to be absolutely certain he’d done the right thing.

  Not contacting her for a week had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. But those achy nights—and all the effort to get back here—were worth the pure happiness he could see in her eyes.

  She reached for him, closing her fingers around his forearm and tugging him up to her with enough strength in her touch for him to know she wanted him right where he wanted to be...closer.

  “Is that what I think it is?” she whispered.

  He nodded, keeping his vow not to say a word until her signature was on the divorce decree he’d paid a lot of money to some of the lowest people on Hong Kong’s food chain to get signed by her ex. It hadn’t been that hard, based on what he was able to find out about Doug Lockhart. Not hard for a man like Zeke, who had connections all over the world.

  Information and location and access were all easily bought with a few million dollars.

  The job had been expensive, yes. But he’d have paid six times that much if he’d had to. Ten. A hundred. Whatever it took for this moment and Mandy to be his.

  As he stood, she held his gaze, a gorgeous glisten in her green eyes, the tears the kind he’d hoped she’d shed.

  “How?” she asked.

  He angled his head as if to say, Do you really need to ask? Next to him, Paul Jameson, one of Zeke’s longtime top managers, produced a pen.

  “I will witness and notarize the second signature,” Paul said.

  “The second...” Mandy looked from one to the other, letting out a soft laugh. “You are relentless.”

  Zeke didn’t answer, but Paul nodded to the document. “Go ahead, ma’am,” Jameson said. “It is one hundred percent official.”

  Her hands trembled as she opened the paper and then let out an audible sigh as she read the words Zeke had memorized already.

  Final decree of dissolution of marriage.
r />   Paul had only included the last page, the important one that required her signature. Right next to Douglas B. Lockhart’s. B for bastard.

  The bastard who was already in the hands of federal authorities. But not, Zeke had made sure, until he’d signed his divorce decree.

  Once again, Mandy looked up at him. “Thank you.”

  He mouthed one word. “Sign.”

  Without hesitation, she put the pen to the paper and scribbled her name. Still looking down, she set the pen on the tray and took a slow, deep breath.

  “That doesn’t make anything legal.” Tori muscled her way closer, her face pink with anger and jealousy. “She’s still married!”

  Taking the signed paper, Zeke turned and shoved the tray into Tori’s hands. “Would you mind? And while you’re at it...” He sneaked a wink at Mandy before adding, “Get some class, Tori, because you obviously have none.”

  Her jaw unhinged, but Paul nudged the woman away, so Zeke could return his attention to Mandy, who still looked bewildered…and beautiful. She reached her hands up to his face, putting her warm fingers on his cheeks.

  “I can only guess how, but...why?”

  She didn’t know why? “Because I...” Love you. “I want you to be happy.” Which were one and the same, weren’t they? He would make her happy...forever.

  “I am,” she admitted. “Happier than you can imagine. I saw the helicopter, and I thought...” She blinked a tear. “I hoped you’d be on it.”

  “As if I’d be that much of a cliché. I leave the grand gestures to Becker. Paul and I drove in a few minutes ago.”

  She stifled a half-laugh, half-cry. “I really wanted you to come back to me.” Her voice cracked, and that did such stupid things to his heart.

  “You doubted that I would?” How could she?

  “Of course. I lied to you. I hurt you. You disappeared in the middle of the night.”

  “I had work to do, Mandy. Work to make it completely right for us to be together.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him to whisper in her ear. “I never considered for one second that I wouldn’t come back to you. But I wasn’t going to say another word until you were—are—a free woman.”

  “I am free.” A soft shudder ran through her. “That’s all I’ve wanted. Not independence, freedom...to love. There’s a difference, isn’t there?”