Down and Out in Flamingo Beach (11 page)

“Sometimes.”

“Well, well.” Derek placed both hands on his hips, looking her over while Emilie continued to skate circles around them.

“I need to get home,” Emilie said abruptly.

“What's the hurry?” Joya asked. Emilie seemed suddenly impatient to get going. She hadn't mentioned needing to be anywhere before.

She made a huge production of glancing at her watch. “I completely forgot about my hair appointment. See you later at the jam.”

Off she whizzed, red hair creating a curtain behind her, leaving Joya to face Derek. Alone.

“A
re you in that much of a hurry?” Derek asked as if sensing she was about to bolt.

“Uh…”

“I've got the paperwork you need to sign in my truck.”

“But I don't have my checkbook with me. Won't you need your deposit?” she argued.

“One of two things can happen,” Derek said, seemingly unperturbed. “I can pick up the check later or you can drop it off.”

There wasn't an excuse in the world she could give without being rude. She couldn't just walk away from him especially not if she wanted work to start Monday.

“Okay, let's get it over with. I'll drop off the deposit later if you don't mind.”

“Or I can pick it up. Whichever is easier for you,” Derek countered.

“I'll stop by your house.”

In such close quarters Joya could smell the musk coming off him. It wasn't an unpleasant scent, and she tried to blink away the erotic vision of that hard, muscular body lying on top of her. Derek had runners' legs, muscles bunching in all the right places, and biceps that most men would kill for. She couldn't seem to come up with a response and she couldn't get his naked body out of her head.

If she allowed him to stop by her place who knew how that might end? One little kiss had gone to her head. It couldn't happen again. She couldn't risk it. Better to drop the check off at his home. She'd ring the doorbell, hand it to him and be on her way.

Derek pointed to someplace up the boardwalk. “Belle's house is off to the right, but I suppose you know that. Just let me know what time you'll be by. I'd hoped to catch the Twilight Jam.”

“Me, too, after I go home, shower, change and visit Granny J at the hospital. Will seven be okay? The musicians usually don't start playing until eight.”

Derek tilted his head to the side as if contemplating something. “Why don't you and I go together?”

“Um…Okay, sure.”

She hadn't been able to come up with an excuse quickly enough. And truthfully, she wanted to find out more about the man. He was a heck of a lot more complicated than she'd given him credit for, but he was good company. Joya's conscience warred with her. Would she be misleading him, letting him believe he stood a chance? No, he was just being friendly, she decided, and she could be friendly back.

“Great. You bring a blanket to sit on and I'll bring a nice bottle of wine.” He tapped her on the shoulder.

So much for stereotypes, she'd had him pegged as a beer drinker. No denying at glance number one there'd been chemistry between them, and more sparks than an electrical fire. In Derek's presence Joya felt edgy and wired. While words usually came easily, when he was around she was rendered damn close to inarticulate. She turned into a teenager again, awkward and unsure of herself. He was way too virile.

Together they started down the boardwalk, Joya trying her best to ignore the knowing looks and muttered speculation, often loud enough for them to hear. Every now and then they stopped to acknowledge someone they knew. She'd bet phones were ringing all over town. Some probably already had them married off.

Just wait until they showed up at tonight's jam session, then the whole of Flamingo Beach would have them sleeping together. She couldn't let that bother her. A lot worse had been said of her in the past. She'd been called all kinds of names when she'd left Quen. It had been said she'd left him for the town stud, and when that had failed to prove true, the rumor spread she was a lesbian.

An awkward silence ensued. She and Derek had run out of things to say.
Think, Joya, think. What's a good safe topic? His job. People liked to talk about their jobs
.

“What is it about construction you like?” she asked to ease the tense silence.

Derek thought for a moment. “I like working with my hands and I like it that I don't have to attend meetings. I finish the job I'm given and that's that. Basically I come to work stress-free and I leave that way. My biggest worry is making sure my crew meets the required deadline. It's up to me to turn nothing into something and take an eyesore and turn it into a palace.”

“But it must be backbreaking, tiresome work,” Joya commented, liking the thought he'd put into his response. Derek was no one's fool.

His brown eyes lit up as he warmed to his subject. “It can be, but when you're done you feel proud of what you've accomplished. Even though you're working within certain confines you're able to bring creativity to a project. It's like an artist putting a personal stamp on a piece. You're leaving a legacy behind.”

“And there's something to be said about not having to play the political corporate game. It's one of the reasons I liked being a flight attendant,” Joya added. “I showed up for work, flew from point A to B, went home and collected my check. My boss was the senior flight attendant on that crew and if we didn't see eye to eye then I traded the next trip and got a new boss.”

“You're speaking in the past tense. Didn't you like the autonomy of being master of your own fate?”

“Yes, but I'm no longer with the airline.”

“You quit?” Derek said, putting it into words and making it sound final. “I just can't imagine you not getting along with anyone.”

It occurred to Joya that he was being snide.

“There are people that set my teeth on edge,” she said, looking directly at him. Let him imagine the worst.

He chuckled softly, apparently finding humor in her words. “I hope I'm not one of them. You've always been civil, even when those two winners your grandma employed were trying to get over on you. You could have been hell on wheels but you weren't.”

“You mean Deborah and LaTisha?”

“Yeah. Those two pieces of work.”

Joya's cheeks heated up. A compliment from Derek? Backhanded as it was. She was enjoying the back and forth. And much as she hated to admit it, she was enjoying spending time with him.

Derek paused in front of the raised stage used for outdoor performances. A hopeful guitarist strummed a guitar that needed tuning. The case lay at his feet with pitifully few coins in it.

“I have to go,” Derek said. “I'm ripe for a shower and there are a couple of things I need to do before tonight's gig. I'll see you a little after seven then?”

“I'll be there.”

Derek began a slow jog, heading for his grandmother's house, a stone's throw from the boardwalk. Joya took off in the opposite direction. She was already thinking about what to wear to the Twilight Jam. She'd seen the way Derek looked at Emilie, quite obviously he was interested, and she'd felt a twinge of jealousy. She wanted him to look at her the same way he'd looked at Emilie, and she couldn't fathom why.

 

At Flamingo Beach General Granny J was being examined by Dr. Benjamin.

“Are you done poking at me?” she groused, “I'm liable to be black and blue all over.” She'd had enough of lying in bed trying to digest inedible food. She wanted out.

“All done,” the doctor said, patting her upper arm. He was treating her like a child, or even worse, an old lady who needed to be patronized.

She wasn't about to be appeased or dismissed. “Okay. I'm alive, so when can I go home?”

“Didn't I say tomorrow?” Dr. Benjamin flipped through the clipboard he was carrying. “You're doing very well, and you'll do even better if you stick to the recommended diet and get some exercise.”

“Tomorrow can't come fast enough,” Granny J moaned. “I have a business that I've neglected. Lord knows what I'm going to find when I get back. My granddaughter has been running the shop and although she's efficient enough she's not exactly an entrepreneur.”

“Your granddaughter seems quite capable to me. By the way, she's a lovely young woman and she strikes me as smart. Any changes she's made will probably be for the better.” Dr. Ben's cheeks were ruddy under his light complexion. He took off his glasses and stuck them in his pocket.

Granny J shot up in bed. “Changes? What changes? What are you not telling me?”

“Take a deep breath now and settle down. Change can be very good. No one wants to remain stagnant.”

Granny J flashed her warm welcoming smile, the kind she used on customers. She eyed the doctor slyly. “Some changes aren't good. You've met my Joya. Isn't she a lovely woman?”

“Beautiful, compassionate and smart,” Dr. Benjamin said, his face turning an alarming shade of crimson.

Granny J folded her arms across her chest. “If she's all that, then why isn't a young, handsome doctor like you asking her out?”

“I just might,” Dr. Benjamin said, patting her hand as if she were a child. “At the very least I'll take it under consideration.”

Good lord, the man needed nudging. In her day, men stepped up to the plate and took care of business. She'd have to find a reason to make this happen. The Hamills could definitely use a doctor in the house.

 

Derek finished putting the final coat of primer on the bathroom wall. He'd gotten back from his run energized and found Nana asleep and Mari wanting to run an errand. All in all, it was the perfect time to get stuff done.

He pressed his nose to the new window and saw the sun slowly disappearing into the sea. He had just enough time to jump into the shower and change before Joya stopped by. He was looking forward to spending this time with her. There was more going on in that pretty head than he'd initially been led to believe.

Twenty minutes later he'd showered, shaved and changed into a pair of khaki shorts and polo shirt. He'd also slipped on a pair of canvas boat shoes and, as an afterthought, had slapped on cologne. Finally he stuck his head into Nana's room to see how she was doing.

She was lying still, hands clasped on her stomach as if she was laid out. A pack of cigarettes remained in easy reach, as were several books of matches.

Derek eased her door closed.

“Nothing wrong with my hearing. You going out, boy?”

Derek tiptoed back into her room. He kissed her cheek. “Yes, can I get you something before I go?”

“Nope, I have everything I need.” Nana sat up in bed and reached for a cigarette. She wrinkled her nose. “What's that smell?”

“Cologne.”

“Nobody puts on cologne just to hear some guys jam.” She sucked what was left of her teeth. “You all dressed up 'cause of some woman.”

“You're too smart for me. I'm out of here, Nana.”

Derek left her smoking those damn cigarettes and went out on the porch to wait for Joya. By the time she got there maybe he wouldn't have that nasty smoky smell clinging to him.

He hated to admit it, but he was fascinated with Joya and normally he ran from that type. She'd struck him as high-maintenance, more than a little demanding and highstrung. But he liked how dedicated she was to her grandmother and how committed to taking care of her business.

Derek had heard the talk around town about how Joya had tried to change Quen. He'd heard all the speculation about why the marriage had deteriorated. It didn't take long to find out stuff in Flamingo Beach, fabricated or otherwise.

Well hell, his marriage had deteriorated, too, because he'd spent way too much time at work. He'd justified the time spent away as earning the money to buy his wife all the things she wanted. He'd gotten caught up in the corporate game and keeping up with the Joneses. In retrospect he should never have gotten married. There hadn't been much between them to begin with. They'd just mistaken physical attraction for true love. When the bloom wore off the rose they'd tried to make it work and from there everything had begun unraveling.

“Hey, Derek?” Joya had arrived. When she stepped out of her red convertible, everything inside him went still.

She had on pants that stopped a little below the knee and a shirt showing an inch or so of skin at the middle. For once she wasn't wearing those ridiculous heels. The whole effect was of a tiny, fragile person who needed his help. Derek met her halfway down the walk.

Joya waved an envelope and a set of keys at him. “I've got the deposit. These keys will give you access to the store if I'm not around. Check inside and make sure it's the agreed-to amount.”

He took the envelope from her but didn't open it right away. “Want to come in and see what I'm doing to the house before we run off?”

“I'd love to,” she answered, surprising him. “I've always admired this house.”

He held the front door open for her, and she walked in, stopping to look down, a slow smile curving her mouth.

“Bamboo floors,” she said, “Nice.”

“Yes. I laid them myself because they're durable and in keeping with a beach house. If Nana decides to put the house up for sale, bamboo floors will increase the value, don't you think?”

Joya was too busy wandering around the great room and inspecting the fireplace that seldom got lit to answer. She ran a hand over the top of the marble mantelpiece. “This is nice.”