Ex on the Beach (3 page)

“Never have to. You always have it under control.”

Mark brushed his hands over the slacks of the suit he still wore from that morning’s meetings, knocking sand from his legs. Aside from rushing forward and swooping the boys up to keep them from acting like normal boys, he supposed there hadn’t been anything else to be done. He didn’t speak, merely grunted in acknowledgment.

The door to the building opened and a couple emerged, laughing as they made their exit. Behind them, he could hear what sounded like a baseball game being broadcast inside. He punched his buddy in the gut and pushed past him. Might as well enjoy a late lunch before he went in search of the woman he most dreaded. And most looked forward to seeing.

It was dark and cool inside, and it took his eyes a moment to adjust. Once he could see, he scanned the area noting only two people at the bar itself, each sitting on a round-topped stool, leaning in, laughing quietly with the other.

A few other people were scattered throughout the room, talking or watching one of several TVs hanging on the walls. There were small tables for two with fancy little chairs that looked as if they belonged on the patio of someone several decades older than himself, larger tables and normal seating for bigger crowds, and a couple of cushioned loveseats tucked into one corner with a glass-topped coffee table positioned in front.

In the other corner was a piano with a microphone standing beside it. And all around the walls were shelves full of an interesting mix of metal bowls, candlesticks, shells, and what looked to be blown-glass ornaments. And that was just what he could see from a quick glance. Given the number of shelves and amount of stuff, he suspected additional items could easily be uncovered.

Beyond sheer, billowing curtains, he made out a handful of women sitting out on the patio, all wearing floppy hats and sipping girly-looking drinks. The outside space was casual and overlooked the beach, but judging by the subtle decor and tasteful lighting dotting the perimeter, he suspected that come nighttime it would be transformed into elegance.

The whole place screamed nice. Comfortable. Classy. It was Andie.

“Table for two?”

Mark looked down to find a hostess smiling up at him. Short black hair puffed out around her face, and something about the simpleness in her khaki shorts and pullover, contrasted with the stiff suit he still wore, made him feel ancient. She appeared to be in her early-to mid-twenties, and though he was only thirty-one himself, he felt a lifetime older.

Working sixty-hour weeks at your family’s law firm did that to a person.

Taking a vacation, only to bring the job with you, did that to a person, as well.

Gray was eyeing the pixie of a woman, and from what Mark could tell, was enjoying the view.

“We’ll just grab a seat at the bar, if that’s okay,” Mark said. Normally both of them would come to a place like this with a handful of buddies and take up a spot in front of the biggest TV. For this afternoon, the bar would do.

“Sure thing,” the hostess replied. She motioned for them to go ahead and choose a seat and then shot Mark another quick look with a slight squint of her eyes. She scanned over his attire, scrutinizing his face closely enough to make him uncomfortable. The corners of her mouth turned down. “The bartender should be back any minute. She stepped away to take a call. Are you with the Jordan wedding?”

“That’s right.” Given that Rob and Penelope were pretty much taking over the property and that his own Boston accent easily stuck out, he wasn’t surprised that she’d put it together. “Thought we’d grab some lunch before meeting up with everyone else.”

Her demeanor suddenly changed and she thrust menus at them. “Sounds like a plan. Might want a grab a drink, too. Weddings tend to bring out the worst in people.” She angled her head toward the bar. “You go on over. I’ll let Andie know you’re here. I’m sure she’ll be right out to serve you.”

Mark had half turned away, but froze in his tracks. He glanced back. “Andie is the bartender? Andie Shayne?”

It had to be her. Bartending had been what put her through Harvard Business. That and scholarships.

“Yep,” the hostess stated flatly. She turned away, making it clear she was finished speaking.

From the corner of his eye, Mark caught Grayson raise his brows. Mark wasn’t sure if he recognized Andie’s name, or was showing his thoughts on the hostess’s snub, but one thing hit home in a nauseating wave. Mark wasn’t ready to see Andie.

The idea of just walking up to her after all this time and starting a conversation was far more nerve-racking than standing in front of a hostile courtroom with none of the odds in his favor. But what was he going to do? Turn and leave like a coward?

He headed to the bar without another word and parked himself on the opposite end from the couple, hoping to get a good look at Andie before she saw him. And wondering if he should be the coward he felt inside and hightail it back out the door he’d just entered.

Gray slung a leg over the stool beside him. “The ex, huh?”

Mark nodded. The ex. Though Gray had spent a couple years working in San Francisco after they’d graduated, he likely remembered Andie from their evenings hanging out at the bar where she’d worked. And then he’d been invited to the wedding.

Mark tapped a thumb against the counter, noticing that underneath the veneer were buttons of all sizes, many looking like they’d been plucked off old polyester suits.

“You knew she was here, then?” Gray asked.

Couldn’t pull anything over on a good lawyer. “I knew she was here.”

Gray flipped open his menu with a wide grin on his face, looking for all the world as if he was settling in to witness what was soon likely to be a very uncomfortable situation. “I think I’ll have that beer the cutie suggested. Things could get interesting up in here.”

Yes, things could get interesting. Mark suspected they would.

And how wonderful for him that he’d have an audience.

CHAPTER TWO

A
soft grunt escaped as Andie lifted the rack of glasses from the dishwasher and headed toward the bar. She’d verified that the Mastersons were settling in, and the limo was en route to pick up the first round of Jordans. Now she needed to get everything stocked and ready for the evening crowd and the wedding party dinner out on the patio.

She also had to make sure she was mentally prepared. Seeing Mark wasn’t going to be a picnic, but it had been four years. She could handle this. And she’d do it by making sure he realized he hadn’t broken her.

“Andie, I need to talk to you.” Roni, one of her two oldest friends, and the person currently playing the role of hostess, rushed up to her before Andie made it back to the bar. Roni had once been a concert pianist. She’d up and quit, landing on Turtle Island and changing her life almost as abruptly as Andie’s had taken a turn.

“Let me put these up first. This is heavy.” Andie tried to push past her, but Roni stood in her way. She reached out for the rack, taking part of the weight in her own hands.

“It can’t wait,” Roni whispered. “You need to know — ”

The sound of a handful of men entering the bar cut Roni off midsentence. Andie shot her friend a quizzical look as she moved around her to shout out a greeting to the newcomers. It was a crowd of college-aged guys. She slid the tray of glasses in the space behind the bar, caught a glimpse of a couple new faces at the far end of the counter — their heads bent over menus — then subtly motioned Roni to get back out front and seat the new customers.

Before Andie could move to the end of the bar to take orders, the woman in front of her caught her attention. “Can I get another glass of wine, please?”

The woman’s name was Janice. She and her friend, George, had been on the island for several days now and had been lingering in the bar since lunch. Janice had explained that today was their last day on the island, and neither wanted to return to the real world.

Andie could understand that. She’d sought out Aunt Ginny’s home four years ago, not wanting to return to the real world herself. She’d been prepared to, however. Only, her boss had let her know there was no need.

Stood up at the altar and fired, all within days. It had not been one of her better weeks.

She drained the bottle of Moscato into Janice’s glass. “That one’s on me.”

“Awww, thanks!” Janice’s voice was an octave too high, and she followed it up with a round of giggles. “I think I’ve had a bit too much this afternoon.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Andie caught the men down the bar turning their heads in her direction. She patted Janice’s hand. “Better go easy or you and George will be spending your last evening sleeping one off.”

Sending George a wink, Andie caught another strange look from Roni as she turned to the other customers. As she reached out to put away the empty bottle, she realized who sat at the far end of her bar.

The bottle slipped, tagged the corner of the stainless steel cooler, and shattered on the tile floor.

“I’ll get a broom,” Roni tossed out, before hurrying to the back.

Andie ignored her, not taking her eyes off Mark.

Slightly windblown hair, still as dark as she remembered, an expensive suit that looked completely out of character in a place like this, yet somehow seemed like the only thing she would expect to find him in, and those steady, penetrating eyes taking her in.

He sat, elbows propped on the polished bar as if he’d been patiently waiting for her for days, and raised his eyebrows when her gaze met his.

Her body grew warm with anger. Four years was apparently not long enough.

“Let me get it.” Roni spoke softly, sliding in behind the counter.

“I’ve got it.” Andie snatched the broom and dustpan out of Roni’s hands, needing a reason to break contact with Mark. What was he doing at the bar? He was supposed to be at the house with the others.

She shot a quick glance at the other man, recognizing him from years ago, as well as from the picture she’d seen clipped to Kayla’s folder earlier in the day. Grayson McTavish had been a good guy from what Andie had been able to tell, and at the moment, she wished that good guy would drag Mark out of her bar.

“Could you see what he …” Angie motioned to the men, not looking at them again. “What
they
want?”

From the rigidity of Roni’s jaw, Andie knew that her friend had recognized Mark, as well. They’d met at dinner the night before the wedding that didn’t happen. Then it occurred to her that
this
had been what Roni had been trying to warn her about. Andie started sweeping the broom against the glass in haphazard strokes, but was unable to concentrate fully on the task.

“They apparently want lunch,” Roni stated without going over to the men. She leaned in to whisper. “Did you know he would be here?”

Andie didn’t pause in her movements. “Just read it on the list today. It’s Robert Masterson’s wedding. He was Mark’s best man.”

Roni nodded. “That explains it.”

But it didn’t explain how out of all the places in the world, Rob’s wedding had landed on her island.

Andie glanced Mark’s way again, then swiveled around to Janice and George, wondering if they could tell something was wrong. When they looked from her to Mark and Grayson and then back to Roni, she had her answer. She noticed the gaggle of men that had just entered taking in the activity at the bar, as well.

Good grief, she did not want to cause more of a scene than she already had.

She fought the urge to drop everything to the floor and just walk away. She could hide in her room for the next two weeks, and she knew Kayla and Aunt Ginny would expertly handle everything. Truth be told, they’d probably do a better job without her. But it had been her idea to start this business to begin with. And she was a professional. She would not let this man run her off. Not again.

Shoving her feelings aside — and furious to realize she still had any toward him, even if it was only anger — she gave Roni a tight smile. “Never mind, I’ll handle it.”

She pushed the broom back at Roni and turned to the bar. With nothing left to do but face him, Andie picked up a towel to keep her hands busy and made her way to the far end of the counter. To Mark.

“Grayson,” she muttered, wiping down the bar in front of him. “Mark.” She did not want to see him, did not want to deal with him. And she certainly didn’t want to see him and his perfect wife together. And that’s when she realized, she was as jealous as she was angry. He’d tossed her aside and chosen someone who fit the mold he’d been looking for.

“It’s good to see you, Andie,” Mark said. Grayson nodded a greeting then leaned back in his seat.

She eyed Mark. It was good to see her? That was his opening statement? You’d think a lawyer could come up with something better than that. She did give him credit for the deep, rich sound of his voice, though. It had always felt like a warm, fuzzy blanket wrapping around her.

But he was a jerk and she hated him. She had to keep that foremost in her mind.

“I’m afraid I can’t say the same.” She met him head-on. His eyes had always changed with his moods or the color of his clothes; right now they were dark, a deep greenish brown. So dark there was practically no definition from the iris to the outside rim.

He had the grace to glance away at her words, possibly embarrassed, but she couldn’t imagine a Kavanaugh being embarrassed.

“What are you doing in here, Mark?” She didn’t wait for him to say anything else, her fury suddenly taking over all other emotions churning through her. It was four years ago, and she was standing there in front of a church of two hundred, and every last one of them was looking at poor, pitiful Andie Shayne. “Shouldn’t you be at the house with your buddy?”

She hated Mark almost as much as she did Robert. And yes, she knew it wasn’t nice to hate people. Her good Kentucky upbringing had taught her that, but some people didn’t deserve any better.

“I’m heading over soon. Thought we’d get a bite to eat and …”

He paused and she mimicked his earlier action, raising her eyebrows, while inside she was trembling. “And what? Start the wedding out by making sure to let me know you’re here? Don’t worry. I’m aware of who’s in this wedding. It’s my job to know.”