Ten Beach Road (26 page)

Feeling incredibly stupid, Avery raised the two-by-four up over her head. Just in case.

The doors flew open and the familiar smell snapped into place in her memory. A beautifully dressed and perfectly coiffed woman posed in the opening. “Darling,” the woman said with a look of delight. “Trent told me what was happening, and I thought you might need my services. And now I can see that you do.”

She walked forward sort of like Lauren Bacall or Bette Davis in one of those old glamorous black-and-white movies—moving shoulders and lots of hip sway.

“I hope you don’t mind that I put my things in the master. It looked unoccupied.” Her smile dimmed but only slightly. “But, of course, that was before I realized that the bathroom wasn’t functional. And, of course, there is no bed.”

Avery couldn’t think of a thing to say. Slowly she lowered the piece of wood still clutched in her hand.

Kyra kept filming. She actually moved to get a wider angle of the three of them. Maddie lowered the knife and her phone, but she still looked uncertain.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me, darling?”

Avery gritted her teeth. A burglar would have been preferable. As far as she was concerned even Norman Bates from the Bates Motel would have been more welcome. It already required all of her self-control to work with Chase Hardin. Throwing Deirdre into the mix was cruel and unusual punishment.

“Deirdre, this is Madeline Singer, one of my partners in the house, and her daughter, Kyra.” Avery clenched her jaw in an effort to prevent all of the things that threatened to slip out as recognition dawned on their faces. “Maddie, this is Deirdre Morgan, well-known interior designer to the stars.”

 

 

It was hard to believe that there were degrees of comfort when sleeping on the floor, but there were. After drinking half of their remaining bottle of red wine with her nose scrunched up so as not to actually taste it, Deirdre had passed on Maddie’s offer of a blow-up bed and commandeered Avery’s mattress instead along with what felt like most of the air in Avery’s room.

Avery had spent the entire night trying to find a comfortable position on the twin-sized air mattress and failing miserably; she was small and didn’t hang over the sides, but she was not a child. So she’d lain in the room like the slave who waited on the queen, listening to her mother’s breathing while trying to figure out why Deirdre was there and how to best get rid of her. She didn’t fall asleep until just before sunrise.

It was ten A.M. before she stumbled into the bathroom to splash water on her face and hurriedly brush her teeth. Male voices floated up from outside; the female voices rose from downstairs. She followed the latter into the kitchen and found Deirdre at the head of the kitchen table apparently holding court. Maddie, Kyra, Chase, and Nicole sat in a semicircle around her.

“Ah, there she is,” Deirdre cooed when Avery stepped into the kitchen. “My, you’re a sleepyhead.”

Avery stopped where she was. Deirdre was impeccably dressed and fully made-up as if she and not Nicole had just returned from a pampered weekend in Palm Beach. “Sleepyhead? Try, mercifully glad to have finally fallen asleep at all. It was bad enough having to give up my mattress, but the snoring? Oh, my God! It was like trying to sleep on train tracks.”

Deirdre laughed, a beautiful tinkly laugh, which Kyra captured on video. “I’m so sorry to have usurped your mattress, Avery. But I do not snore. I’ll get a bed delivered as soon as possible.” She sounded like the Queen of frickin’ England.

Avery poured a cup of coffee, using the time to tamp down her panic and irritation, and took the only empty seat next to Chase. The others looked surprised at Deirdre’s apparent intention to move in, but no one voiced the slightest opposition.

Kyra lowered her video camera. “Your mother knows people who know people in Hollywood.” Her voice hummed with an odd sort of excitement. “Apparently Daniel Deranian’s wife, Tonja Kay, is moving into a house of her own. Without Daniel.”

Maddie shot her daughter a worried look, but Kyra just lifted the camera back to her eye and smiled happily. It was the most animated Avery had seen her.

“Your mother did a walk-through a little while ago, and she has some really great ideas for the house,” Maddie said, shooting Avery a silent look of apology. The rest of them were smiling and nodding at Deirdre. Much like Avery used to do on
Hammer and Nail
.

Avery paused with the cup midway to her lips. “Really.” It was not a question.

“Yes,” Deirdre answered. “The bones of this house are just magnificent. Chase says much of what it needs at this point is cosmetic rather than structural and, well, that
is
my area of expertise.” She smiled as if that was that and that explained everything.

“But we don’t know why you would want to be involved in this . . . project,” Avery replied. “I don’t remember anyone here placing a call to you asking for your help. And as I do remember, you couldn’t wait to get out of Florida. You couldn’t shake the sand off your shoes fast enough.” Ditto for her husband and child.

Chase was looking at her now; everyone else was watching Deirdre.

“Seriously,” Avery asked. “What are you doing here?”

“Why, I came to help. To help you.” Her voice shook and her eyes glistened. She actually looked like a mother might look. But then, she’d been in Hollywood for a very long time. They stared at each other while everyone else looked on.

“Your mother could bring a lot to this project,” Chase said.

“Don’t call her that.”

“We could never afford the services of a topflight designer,” he continued. “And to make this house attractive to the right kind of buyer, we’re going to need more than just a physical renovation.”

“He’s right,” Nicole said. “We’re not in a position to turn down manna from heaven.”

“She is not manna. And she is definitely not from heaven,” Avery said, hating how betrayed she felt.

There was a small flare of something in Deirdre’s eyes. Dare she hope it was hurt? But then Deirdre smiled and that smile was triumphant.

Avery gave her the eyebrow. And got one in return.

“Sorry,” Maddie said, stifling a laugh, “but it’s amazing how alike you two look. Very Marilyn Monroe–esque.”

Deirdre smiled more openly. Chase laughed.

In the silence that followed, Deirdre stood and stepped away from the table. “I think it would be best to let the principals discuss my fate in private. I’m happy to help you get the house ready to show. I have contacts in the design community, and I suspect if I put my mind to it, I could provide the finishes and furnishings for this home on a level few could match. And for somewhere under wholesale.”

Avery remained silent, but she could feel the others’ interest.

“Why don’t I step out for a few minutes so you can talk privately? Kyra, let’s go take another look at the bar. I just love the Moorish touches; it has such a wonderful feel.”

They filed out of the kitchen and Avery waited for Chase to leave, too. She aimed the eyebrow at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Don’t you think you should step out, too?” Avery asked.

“I’m a partner now, Avery. And I’m definitely planning to vote on this. It’s a no-brainer.”

“As if you could make any other sort of decision.”

This time it was Nicole who laughed. But Avery could tell their minds were made up. Oh, Deirdre had been sneaky with her little sales pitch and her “I’m connected in the design community” bullshit. Of course she was connected. She’d always put her work first.

“All right,” Maddie said. “Let’s go ahead and get this over with.”

“Yes,” Chase said. “Let’s.”

“All in favor,” Nicole finished, “of having Deirdre join us to handle the design work say ‘aye.’ ”

The three of them looked right at her as they voted in favor. Only Maddie appeared apologetic.

“All opposed.”

Avery raised her hand, then lowered it. “Believe me when I tell you that Deirdre has some sort of ulterior motive,” Avery said. “She may act like she’s doing us a favor, that somehow we’re going to get all of her . . . services for free. But we’ll pay in some unpleasant way. Don’t be fooled by the whole mother act. She doesn’t have the experience or the instincts for it.”

Maddie positioned the neon-strapped beach chairs, which now totaled five, in a semicircle around the low wicker table that she’d found at a garage sale last week and tried not to see the bargain basement furniture through Deirdre Morgan’s eyes.

The designer was in the kitchen with Nicole, preparing the sunset snack. Chase was still sawing away over in the garage while Avery, who did her best to stay as far away from both of them as possible, had headed down the beach for a walk as soon as they’d knocked off for the day. Last time she’d checked, Kyra was upstairs fiddling with her video equipment.

“Come on, you all!” Maddie called. “You’re going to miss the show!”

A few minutes later Nicole backed out of the kitchen door carrying a tray with a bottle of white wine and glasses. Deirdre followed with a tray of artfully arranged canapés and . . . Maddie did a double take. “That’s not actually caviar, is it?”

Nicole smiled. “It so is.”

Kyra came out with a tall glass of juice and her video camera. They’d settled into their seats and poured glasses of wine by the time Avery came up from the beach. She made a face when she saw the small bowls of condiments and the fancy cocktail napkins beside them, but continued on into the kitchen without comment, coming back with a warehouse-sized bag of Cheez Doodles.

They ate and drank and watched the sun slip lower in the sky while Deirdre entertained them with stories about some of the celebrities she’d worked with. Every time Kyra asked a question Maddie caught her breath, afraid that the next name she was going to hear was Daniel Deranian’s.

She knew that it wouldn’t be long before Kyra’s pregnancy became obvious, but there was still that small, irrational part of her that wanted to believe if they just didn’t talk about it, the problem would somehow cease to exist. She frowned as she realized how closely this resembled Steve’s abdication; there was no real safety dwelling in the land of denial.

Everyone fell silent as the sun brightened and glowed before beginning its slide toward the water. The whine of the saw ceased and Chase came out of the garage, mopping his face with his T-shirt. Muscles rippled beneath his darkly tanned skin; his abs could have been cut from steel. Only Avery kept her gaze on the Gulf as he walked toward them. Until his hand snaked down into her bag of Cheez Doodles.

“Hey!” she said.

“Mind if I join you?” He popped the Cheez Doodle into his mouth and munched contentedly.

“Of course not,” Maddie said before Avery could object. “There’s a six-pack in the fridge. I’m pretty sure it’s got your name on it.”

“Thanks.” He reached down into Avery’s bag of Cheez Doodles again and snagged a whole handful before heading inside.

“
These
don’t have your name on them,” she called after him, closing the bag against further encroachment. “Did you really have to invite him, Maddie?” she asked. “Between the caviar and the crowd, it’s turning into a damned cocktail party. I’d rather have one of Nikki’s frozen drinks.”

“My, someone’s grumpy this evening.” Deirdre sipped her wine and reached for another canapé.

Avery tensed. Maddie put a hand on her arm to hold her back. “It’s just one sunset. We have a whole summerful ahead of us.”

Avery sniffed. “If he even looks like he’s getting ready to call me Vanna, he’s going to be wearing this bag of Doodles.”

“He called you Vanna?” Deirdre smiled. “Really?”

Avery’s hands tightened on the Cheez Doodle bag, making it crackle. “You know, you never said how you happened to have your summer free to join us.”

Deirdre turned from the view to face her daughter. “Trent told me what was going on and I made the time because I thought you might need my help.”

“Next time call me first so I can tell you no.”

Chase came out with his beer and a kitchen chair. Deirdre scooted over to make room for him.

Maddie wasn’t sure how much Avery enjoyed the rest of the sunset; she seemed to be fuming through most of it. When the sun had completed its disappearing act, Maddie raised her glass. After explaining their “one good thing” tradition to Deirdre and Chase, she said, “I’m grateful that I didn’t break a single pane of glass today.” Maddie took a small sip. “Of course, it figures I’m finally getting the hang of glazing now that the end is in sight.”