Meant to Be (12 page)

“She’s hiding something all right. But she’s not hiding it in that skirt.”

Dozer barked.

“Right. Eyes off the skirt. Got it.”

Beth snapped pictures with her cell phone as the horses grazed and snorted, oblivious to her presence. She could feel Joe watching her, which made her body tingle in places she shouldn’t be tingling. She’d turned once, and instead of pretending he wasn’t looking, Joe waved. Dozer raised a paw and did the same.

She could get used to having these two in her life.

Not that they’d be in her life once she went back to Richmond. Her chest tightened at the thought, so she focused harder on the horses. The term
wild
had led her to think they’d be running across a wide, open field, manes flying in the wind, basking in their freedom.

Instead they were in a pen, or what looked to be a series of pens, with little room for running. What was the good of being wild when they couldn’t be free? The questions related to her own life as much as to the horses’ lives. Even with the fences gone, after her grandparents had passed and were hopefully enjoying the afterlife, Beth continued being what they wanted her to be.

Beth shoved down the threatening resentment and headed back to the Jeep. Her grandparents had scrimped and saved to send her to college, and she owed them for those sacrifices. Other than thanking Joe for showing her around, she didn’t say much on the way back to town. Until Joe parked in front of Dempsey’s.

“What are we doing here?”

Joe shrugged. “Patty told me to drop you off when we were done. She and Dad are both working, and she didn’t want you left at the house alone.”

Beth ignored the trace of disappointment that Joe wasn’t stopping for lunch. He’d promised to show her the lighthouse and the horses, not spend the whole day with her.

“Dozer needs water, so I’ll take him back by the kitchen door, but you go ahead.” At the mention of his name, the mutt squeezed himself between the seats and drooled on Beth’s shoulder.

“Yes, that’s you,” Joe said. “Let’s go, bud.”

Beth followed the pair onto the deck that ran across the front and down the side of the restaurant. As Joe and Dozer reached the top step, the dog froze, emitting a growl that vibrated the boards beneath her feet.

Finding the source of his agitation was easy enough. Between the step and the entrance stood Cassandra Wheeler, shooting Dozer a look that said she’d be wearing him by winter.

“E
asy, Doze,” said Joe. The dog grew quiet, his body still ready to pounce.

Beth climbed the last two steps to take the spot on the other side of Dozer, but when she did, the dog moved in front of her as if protecting her from the dangerous blonde. Joe said his name again and the dog sat, never looking away from Cassie.

“I see all your heathen creatures are still the same,” Cassandra taunted, looking unamused. “You really should learn to keep them on leashes.”

Beth didn’t think Joe had other pets, so she had no idea what that comment was about.

Then Cassie looked at her. “You look familiar. Who are you?”

“This is—” Joe started, but Beth interrupted him.

“I was working at Lola’s store when you came in to see her. You left your business card with me.”

“That’s right. She hasn’t called me yet either.” Cassie tucked a clutch under one arm and stuck a hand on her hip. “Did you give her my message?”

“I did.” No need to admit Lola threw the card in the garbage. “I can see you’re on your way out. Don’t let us stop
you.” Beth stepped to the right, forcing Dozer and Joe to do the same.

Cassandra narrowed her eyes, clearly not missing Beth’s dismissal. “My offer still stands, Joe. Call me when you’re ready to talk.”

Beth could have won an Oscar for her casual response to Cassie’s words. Cruella must have assumed that she and Joe were together, hence landing a parting shot. Dozer continued the growl as Cassie passed by, putting as much distance between herself and the mutt as possible. For a moment Beth imagined Dozer chewing one of Cassie’s expensive heels. Drool would do a number on that silk skirt, too.

“Let’s go, Dozer,” Joe said as Beth watched Cassie climb into a Mercedes. “What was that all about?” he asked.

She doubted Joe was talking to Dozer, so she turned around. “What was what about?”

“You stopped me from introducing you as Lucas’s fiancée. Why?”

Beth had actually been saving him from mentioning where she worked. The last thing she needed was Cassie knowing a rep from her daddy’s law firm was on the island. One call and Beth could be forced to become one of Cassie’s minions.

She also had yet to ask Lucas why Cassandra Wheeler had been in his office. Until she knew for sure, she wasn’t about to tell his family about the connection. If Lucas was helping the Wheelers, the Dempseys would be devastated.

“I was just telling her where she’d seen me before. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” Joe didn’t look convinced.
“Weren’t you getting Dozer some water? He looks like he needs it.” On cue, the dog plopped down on his stomach, tongue lolling to the side. “I’ll see you inside.”

Before Joe could respond, Beth slipped through the door into the rush of a busy lunch hour.

“I thought the crowds came after Memorial Day,” she said to Tom as she slid onto a bar stool.

“That’s how it used to be,” he said, reaching for a glass behind him. “Seems the season starts earlier every year.”

“Do you need my help?”

“Nah. Daisy is back, and Annie is working the back section. They can handle it.” He set the glass of soda next to two others already waiting on the bar. “Where’s Joe? I thought he was with you?”

“He’s getting Dozer water. We ran into Cassandra Wheeler on the way in.”

Tom hesitated and looked up from filling a draft. “How did that go?”

“Dozer doesn’t like her much, does he? I’ve never heard him growl like that.”

Tom chuckled. “He never did like Cassie. I’m pretty sure the feeling was mutual. Goes to show, animals are a better judge of character than people are.”

“I admit, I agree with Dozer.”

“You agree with Dozer about what?” Joe asked, taking a seat two stools down.

“She’s saying she doesn’t think much of your ex-fiancée.” Tom threw his trusty white bar rag over his shoulder. “I think we’d both agree Lucas did a better job in that area than you did.”

The two men exchanged a look Beth didn’t understand, but Joe didn’t confirm or deny Tom’s statement. “What was she doing in here? She wasn’t giving you the Wheeler bullshit again, was she?”

“No. She was having lunch with Phil Mohler. The man was drooling on himself sitting across from her.” Tom slid a glass of iced tea in front of Beth and passed a soda to Joe. “I don’t know what she wanted with him. Other than his house, he doesn’t own property on the island.”

“She’s probably looking to recruit locals. Mohler is dumb enough to be the perfect pawn.”

“What exactly does this developer want to do with the island?” Beth asked, trying to figure out why Tad Wheeler—the man who practically coined the phrase
Go big or go home
—would set his sights on such a small, remote island.

“The initial offer came with a design plan that showed the island as one giant resort,” Tom said. “Nearly all the homes and business would be leveled to make way for the main lodging, a pool, a spa, and various other Vegas-style services all tied to the property.”

“That’s awful!” she exclaimed. This beautiful, tranquil island being turned into a shallow, characterless resort was unthinkable. And exactly what she’d expect from Tad Wheeler. “But what do you mean ‘pawn’?” Beth asked. “If this Mohler person doesn’t own a business with land, how can he help her?”

“The Merchants Society,” the men said in stereo.

“Someone needs to elaborate on that one.” Beth took a drink of her iced tea, trying not to sound too interested.

“We don’t have a mayor or a formal government on this island,” Tom said, “but we do have a Merchants Society so we can work together on promotion, marketing, festival planning. That sort of thing.”

“I’ve got two orders down here, Tom,” yelled a pretty redhead from the far end of the bar.

“I’ll be right back.”

Beth watched her future father-in-law walk away, then turned to Joe. “What does Mohler have to do with the Merchants Society?”

“Are you really interested?” he asked. “This small-town stuff must be boring to a big-city lawyer.”

“I’m far from a big-city lawyer,” Beth said, tapping the side of her glass. “I do research for the lawyers who try cases. And Richmond isn’t exactly New York City.”

“You don’t like it up there?”

“I didn’t say that. But I like this island and I don’t want to see you guys lose it.”

She must have said the magic words, because Joe visibly relaxed. “We know Wheeler is courting the merchants on the island. So far, we’ve all agreed to hold our ground, but his offers keep going up while the money coming in isn’t what it used to be. The season starts earlier, but the crowds aren’t the same.”

“I’m still not seeing how Mohler can help her.”

“He’s an ass, but he’s a native. That means other natives will listen to him. If he sells his measly property and plays this up as a good thing, the ones who are wavering might take the deal.” Joe downed half his soda, then wiped his upper lip. “That could create a domino effect. It’s hard to know for sure.”

“Let me get this straight. You’ve all held out against Wheeler Development for months, but you think this one guy, whom you declare an ass, could sway them to change their minds?”

“Not by himself, but he’s a talker. He could find some allies to start working on the rest.”

Beth took a moment to assess the situation. If talking up Tad Wheeler and his island-leveling plan could make a difference, then so could talking it down.

“Does this society have regular meetings?” she asked.

“We do.”

“When is the next one?”

“Friday, why?”

“Then that’s when we launch Operation Save Anchor.” Beth wished she had her notebook and pen. “Is there any paper around here?” She stood up on the cross legs of her stool to look over the bar.

“Wait a minute. What are you talking about?” Joe grabbed her stool as it teetered forward. “Sit down before you break something. No one is launching anything.”

Beth plopped back onto her seat. “We have to. Don’t you see?”

“What I see is a crazy woman talking in circles about something she has nothing to do with.”

“Hey. My last name is going to be Dempsey. That means I have plenty to do with this.” The plan would go nowhere without Joe on board. “If something happens to your parents, does this place go to you and Lucas?”

“That’s a morbid question.”

“Does it?”

“Sure.”

“Then this is my fight, too.” Beth stood up again, looking for paper.

“Sit your ass down. I’ll get the damn paper.” Joe walked around the bar and pulled a steno pad and pen out of the drawer beneath the cash register. “Here,” he said, sliding it toward her.

Beth flipped the cover around to the back. “We need to figure out who we can count on for support. I know Lola for sure. I’m guessing your Sid person will side with you.” Excitement had the pen flying across the page. For the first time since driving onto the ferry, Beth felt in her element.

“She’s not my Sid person, but yeah, you can count on her. And her brother.”

Beth’s hand slipped, sending a line of black ink down the pad. “Sid has a brother?”

“Why is that a surprise? You need to give Sid a break. Get to know her some.” Joe returned to his bar stool. “You should have one of those girls-night-out things. Or whatever you call ’em.”

“You want me to have a girls’ night out with Sid?” Oh, to be a fly on the wall when he suggested this to the female terror in question. “She’d club me with a pool cue and throw me in the ocean. Which is probably her idea of a good time.”

“She’s not that bad. Are you afraid to sit next to her in a bar?” Joe raised one brow in challenge.

“If you mean afraid of a right cross, then yes.” Beth felt as much as saw Joe’s eyes slide down to her breasts, and realized the fear of bodily harm was not what he meant. She
crossed her arms to cut off his view and hide her body’s unexpected reaction.

The girls were practically basking in the attention.

“Are you insinuating that I’m not as attractive as Sid?” Beth knew her body didn’t hold a candle to Sid’s, but that didn’t mean she wanted the fact confirmed by a man.

“No. I’d say you’re hotter.”