The Best for Last (3 page)

Marriage, kids, and a happily ever after. If anyone deserved it all, it was Kitty. But was he the man to give it to her? He needed to figure it out quick. Or he'd lose her. And losing her wasn't something he was prepared to do. At least, not without a fight.

CHAPTER THREE

S
teve glanced at the shop next door to The Bistro by the Beach. The mannequin in the front window was wearing something that belonged in another decade. The sixties, maybe? According to Kitty, this was Donalan's ex-wife's place. Compared to the traffic at The Bistro, the shop looked practically deserted. But it was early still, so maybe business wasn't as bad as it seemed. He ducked inside The Bistro for his usual early morning coffee. He nodded at Zeke Grant, and said hello to a few of the other regulars.

A year ago, if you'd have told him he'd be living in this tiny north Florida beach town, he would have laughed in disbelief. He'd come to Whispering Bay to sever business ties with his old partner, Ted Ferguson. His company had a development in town—Dolphin Isles, a community of reasonably priced tract homes—that he'd wanted to check up on, plus he had family in the area and had been itching to get in some fishing time. But he'd only planned to stay a few weeks, tops. Then he'd met Kitty Burke and his life had been turned upside down fast. Now he had an office and a crew and he, too, was a regular. And life was good. Better than good. Better than he deserved, anyway.

Every morning, Monday through Friday, it was the same routine. He came in to get his coffee, sometimes picking up a muffin or a bagel. He'd make nice with the other customers, exchange a joke or two with Frida, then head to the office. Some days, if he was lucky, he'd get to go out to a construction site. Unfortunately, today wasn't one of those days. His interview with Donalan was scheduled for ten. Hopefully, it would be short, sweet, and productive. He had a mound of paperwork to get through that would basically tie him to his desk for the rest of the week.

He went up to the counter, but instead of the friendly smiles he was accustomed to, no one came rushing over to take his order. Most of the time, his coffee was already waiting for him by the time he came through the door.

Steve glanced around. The place was busy, as usual, but there was no one else in line except him.
Huh.
Maybe the girls were in the back stocking or something.

A firm tap on the shoulder made him turn around.

It was Betty Jean Collins, one of those Gray Flamingos. There was a whole pack of them sitting over by the window. They liked to walk early in the morning along the beach then get breakfast at The Bistro. His uncle Gus was a member. So was Gus's girlfriend, Viola. A half dozen pairs of eyes stared his way, so he placed a hand up in greeting. Gus wasn't there this morning, but Viola was. She waved back without smiling, which was unusual for her. She wasn't just Gus's girlfriend. Steve genuinely liked Viola. She was his next-door neighbor and a good friend to Kitty, too.

Betty Jean smiled up at him. “Hey, Hot Stuff.”

“Mrs. Collins,” he acknowledged respectfully, because, hell, she was practically old enough to be his grandmother.

“So, I know this is forward of me, but you know the old saying, the early bird catches the worm, and you're about the
juiciest
worm this old bird has seen in a long time.” She threw her head back and laughed.

Steve shuffled from foot to foot and waited for whatever it was she would say next. She made no sense, of course, but his encounters with Betty Jean were always a little off. There were times when he actually thought she might be hitting on him. Which…yeah, there were no words for that really.

“Now don't get me wrong,” Betty Jean said. “I love Kitty. Yessiree, I do. She's practically Whispering Bay royalty. You know her grandmother, Amanda Hanahan, founded our group, but…never mind about that.” She slipped a business card in his hand. “Loyalty is one thing, but a woman's gotta do what a woman's gotta do.” Then she winked at him and walked away.

He glanced down at the card.
Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
.
Natalie Bingham, stylist and owner.

Betty Jean thought he needed a haircut? He turned the card over. There was a message written in a woman's flowery scroll:

This is my niece's business card. She's thirty-four and divorced. Owns her own business. Plus, she's a Scorpio and you know what they say about their sex drives. Call her!

What the fuck?

His gaze immediately shot to Betty Jean's table. She gave him a big thumbs-up. She wasn't serious, was she? Everyone in town knew he was with Kitty. Maybe this was some kind of weird joke. Betty Jean did have a wacky sense of humor. Not sure what else to do, he pocketed the card and turned back to the counter.

Frida, thank God, was there, waiting for him. Now maybe his morning could get back to normal.

“Hey, Frida,” he said, greeting The Bistro's owner. “I'll have the usual, please.”

“And that would be, what, exactly?” Her frosty tone startled him.

“You know what I want,” he said, giving her his best smile.

“Really? Because it seems to everyone in town that you have
no
idea what you want.”

What the hell was going on here today
? First Betty Jean, and now Frida. It was as if he'd suddenly been thrust into an episode of
The Twilight Zone
.

“Large coffee with a splash of milk,” he said.

Frida pursed her lips as though she was trying not to say something. She thrust him his coffee without a sleeve on the cardboard cup, almost scalding the palm of his hand. “The milk is over there.” She pointed to a side table with condiments. In the past, the staff had always doctored his coffee for him, not that he expected it, but…yeah, he kind of expected it. It's what they did for every other customer as well.

“Sorry,” she added in a voice that implied she wasn't sorry at all, “but from now on there's an extra charge. No
free
milk here.”

They were charging him extra for the milk?

“Are you all right this morning, Frida?” he asked carefully.

“Me? I'm just peachy. Yep. I'm great! That's two bucks. Cash only.”

Cash only
? He almost laughed out loud. If he was being punked, they were doing a terrific job of it. He juggled the hot cup to his other hand and dug out a couple of bills, making sure to leave a five spot in the large glass tip jar by the counter. Had he forgotten to tip this past week? Was that why Frida was acting so unfriendly? Maybe she and Ed were having problems. He'd have to ask Kitty about it later.

His cell phone pinged. “Uh, have a good day,” he said to Frida, then turned to look at his phone. There was a text from Terrie. He hesitated briefly before reading the message. He and his third ex-wife weren't exactly on the best of terms, but this morning couldn't get any stranger.

Good news. We're FINALLY going to sell the house.

Okay. So this
was
good news.

Back when he and Terrie were married, they'd built a house in Mexico Beach, just an hour east of Whispering Bay. The house was a showplace. A three thousand square foot, Mediterranean-style home with a gourmet kitchen and a killer location right on the water. It was supposed to be their home away from home. The ultimate vacation getaway. He'd personally supervised the construction, laid the kitchen tiles himself, and picked out all the appliances.

A couple of weeks before they were scheduled to move in, he'd caught Terrie giving his ex-business partner, Ted, a blow job. Right in her damn office.

He should have been devastated. But the truth was it had been a relief. The marriage had been sour for a long time, but it was his third go around and he'd felt he had to try his hardest before throwing in the towel. Catching her in the act had been liberating. There was also the fact that she said she didn't love him anymore, making the whole thing a no brainer.

The divorce had been relatively painless. They'd divided the company's assets, sold some mutual property down in Tampa and they'd each gone their separate ways. The Mexico Beach house was the only link between them now. It had been on the market for over two years. They'd had a few nibbles, but Terrie had always refused to negotiate the price down.

He texted her back.
Great. Details?

Meet me for lunch to discuss. That fishy place right near the house. Noon sharp.

He was supposed to meet Kitty for lunch.
No need. Just tell me. Or better yet, have the realtor call me.

His cell phone rang. He reluctantly picked up.

“It's just lunch, Steve. I promise not to bite,” Terrie said silkily. “We have a lot to discuss.”

“Can we make it some other time?”

“The offer just came in and they want an answer by five, so no, we can't make it some other time.”

“Fine. I'll meet you at noon.” Before she could say anything else, he hung up and dialed Kitty. “Hey, sweetheart, it looks the house in Mexico Beach has a solid offer.”

“You're kidding!” Her enthusiasm swept through him, making him smile for the first time this morning. “I'm so happy for you!”

“Yeah, well, we'll see. Terrie wants to discuss the offer over lunch today.”

“Sure. No problem. I have a potential client I can take to lunch,” she said good-naturedly. Not that he'd expected her to take it any other way. Kitty was the first woman he'd ever been with who didn't seem to be jealous of his exes. Not that she had any reason to be. Her confidence in them as a couple was refreshing. It was one of the many reasons he…liked her so much.

“You're still meeting with Tom Donalan, right?”

“I'm seeing him at ten.” He was about to click off, but then he remembered how bizarre his morning had been. “Hey, Kit, is there some reason that Frida would be mad at me?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Mad at you? Like…how?”

“I don't know. Did I forget to tip her or something? She's actually charging me for the milk I put in my coffee now,” he added with a confused chuckle.

“Oh,
um
, that's weird.”

“Tell me about it.”

He thought briefly about telling her about the business card Betty Jean had given him. Kitty would probably laugh about it, but on the other hand, maybe not.

“Don't forget about dinner tonight,” Kitty said. “We're meeting Dad and his surprise at The Harbor House at seven.” He could hear a slight edge of tension in her voice. For Kitty's sake, he hoped good old Dad didn't show up with another Miley Cyrus look-alike.

He drove to work and spent the next hour laboring over a project budget. At exactly 10am his assistant, Stacey, buzzed Donalan into his office.

Steve stood and they made the usual niceties. “Let's get to it.” He waved the man to a chair behind his desk. Donalan was tall. Clean cut. Nice suit. A college boy. But Steve hadn't missed the calluses on Donalan's palm when they'd shaken hands. He was used to getting his hands dirty. A quality Steve appreciated in another man. Especially a man he was about to hire.

“I'm looking for a project manager. Someone with good experience. You seem like you might fit that description,” Steve said. He went on to give details about the job. The demolition of the old senior center and the subsequent construction of the town's new state of the art recreational center. “I'm doing this at cost as a goodwill thing for the city. But the pay is decent. Not what you're used to in Atlanta, but there's the potential for a few nice bonuses. And if your work is excellent, a promotion in the future.”

“Sounds good.”

Steve let a few seconds of silence pass between them. “So why the move? Whispering Bay must be pretty tame after Atlanta.”

Donalan shifted around in his chair. “It's home. Plus, my ex and my son moved back to town a few months ago, due to some family issues. Being a long distance dad was never in my plan.”

Steve nodded. Maybe being a long distance ex-husband wasn't in the guy's plans either. Maybe he wanted his ex-wife back. Not that it was any of Steve's business, but it was good to hear he had strong ties to the community. It meant he was serious about relocating. And just as importantly, staying. “The job's yours. I'll have my assistant draw up a benefit package. You can tell me by the end of the week if you want it.”

“That's it?”

“Yeah. You got a big thumbs-up from my…girlfriend.” Steve frowned.
That was odd
. He'd referred to Kitty as his girlfriend for a long time now, but for some reason today the title sounded all wrong.

“Kitty Burke, right? I heard you two were together.” For the first time since he walked in the room, Donalan smiled. It seemed like a stupid thing, but Steve didn't like the way the guy's eyes lit up at the mention of Kitty's name. “Believe it or not, she used to babysit me when I was in grade school. I was ten and she was fifteen and…” Donalan's face suddenly went blank.

Didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what came next.

“And you had a crush on her,” Steve finished.

He looked relieved that Steve had said it first. “You could say that.”

Steve stood. “Okay, we're done here.”

Donalan looked a little shaken by his abruptness. He reached his hand out and Steve shook it for the second time in less than ten minutes. “I have to say that's the shortest successful interview I've ever been on. I don't need a week to think about it. I'll take the job.”

“Good.” He knew he sounded gruff, but he couldn't help himself. Donalan was a good-looking guy. An unattached good-looking guy. A guy who had some kind of history with
his
girlfriend.

It suddenly occurred to him why the title had seemed all wrong.

He hadn't wanted to call Kitty his girlfriend.

What he'd wanted to say was, his
woman
.

#

Steve got to the restaurant first, which didn't really surprise him any. In all the while he'd known Terrie, she'd never been on time for anything. He'd just ordered a beer when he spotted her weaving her way through the tables toward him. She was tall and model thin, with long dark hair and the best tits money could buy. The kind of woman who turned heads and knew it. She was also a snake and a liar. But a smart one, he'd give her that. It was hard to believe that at one time he'd been in love with her. Or at least, he thought he'd been in love with her.