Читать книгу Beach Lane - Sherryl Woods, Sherryl Woods - Страница 6

Men were the bane of Susie O’Brien’s life. She was surrounded by them, all of them stubborn in the extreme, beginning with her father, Jeff. Add in her uncles Mick and Thomas, her brothers and, the very worst of all, Mack Franklin, and it was a wonder she could get through a day without screaming.

Today, in fact, already seemed likely to test the limits of her patience in never-before-imagined ways. Before she’d even had the first sip of her coffee, her uncle Mick came charging into the Chesapeake Shores real estate management company that she ran with her father.

“Where’s Jeff, that—” At her frown, he cut off the disparaging epithet he’d apparently been intent on using. “Your father, where is he?”

“Dad had an appointment with a client,” she said, then chose her next words about her father’s whereabouts carefully. She knew that this particular piece of property was a hot-button issue for Mick. “He’s showing her a house on Mill Road. It’s the third time she’s gone through the place. He’s almost certain she’s going to sign a contract today.”

Mick frowned, obviously clicking through his own mental data bank of properties on Mill Road. Then astonishment dawned. “The Brighton house? He’s finally going to unload that old eyesore? How’d he get the listing? Last I heard, no one in that family would even speak to an O’Brien.”

Susie hid a smile. It still stuck in her uncle’s craw that old Mr. Brighton had refused to sell him a key piece of shoreline property when he’d been developing Chesapeake Shores. Apparently the refusal had something to do with a Brighton-O’Brien family feud several generations back that neither coaxing nor big bucks had been able to resolve. For all Susie knew, some great-great-uncle’s rooster had chased a Brighton, who’d lopped off its head and cooked it for Sunday dinner. In her family that was all it would take to start a feud that could last for eons.

“Seems that way,” she confirmed. “Apparently Mr. Brighton’s heirs don’t have the same aversion to dealing with an O’Brien that he did.”

“Stubborn old coot,” Mick muttered.

“Why did you want to see Dad?” Susie asked. “Is there a problem?”

For years now the only things that brought the two brothers together were problems and the entreaties of their mother. Nell O’Brien insisted that even the sparring brothers and their families had to spend holidays under the same roof. Susie couldn’t recall a tension-free holiday meal in her entire lifetime. The antacid business probably thrived thanks to the O’Brien dynamics.

Mick and her dad could be civil for an hour or two, which was more than she could say for Mick and her uncle Thomas, at least until recently. Lately they’d apparently struck some kind of accord, which was akin to achieving peace in the Middle East. Like those treaties, Susie suspected this one didn’t have a lot of hope of lasting, though now that Thomas was with Connie Collins she seemed to have a soothing effect on him. She also seemed determined to maintain the détente.

“There’s water leaking in Shanna’s bookstore again,” Mick told Susie, referring to his daughter-in-law’s business on Main Street. “And, frankly, the plumbing in Megan’s gallery should be checked, too. The last thing she needs is a flood ruining all that expensive art.”

Susie gave him an innocent look. “Isn’t the art hanging on the walls?”

Her uncle scowled. “What’s your point?”

“Only that it would take quite a flood to ruin the paintings.” She beamed at him. “Besides, since you gave Megan that space for a dollar a year, didn’t you agree to take care of all the upkeep? I can look at the lease, if you like. We kept a copy here—at your insistence, as I recall.”

Mick gave her a sour look. “If your daddy stayed on top of details the way you do, he’d be a better businessman.”

“He doesn’t need to,” Susie retorted. “He has me. I will get the plumber over to Shanna’s today, though. The last thing we need is another insurance claim. And I can send him by Megan’s as well, as long as the bill comes to you.”

Though he looked disgruntled, Mick nodded. “That’ll do.” He studied her. “You’ll be at the house for Thanksgiving dinner?”

“Of course.”

He eyed her speculatively. “You bringing Mack?”

Susie stilled. “Why would I? I’ve never brought him before.”

“I’ve seen you around town with Mack Franklin for at least three years now,” Mick replied. “Maybe longer. Isn’t it time the two of you either got serious or called it quits? What kind of man drags his heels this long, and what sort of woman lets him? You deserve better than that, Susie. You’re an O’Brien, after all, even if you’re not one of mine. Nobody would have gotten away with treating one of my girls that way.”

“Mack and I aren’t dating,” Susie said stiffly. “We’re friends. Besides, how he treats me is none of your concern.”

Mick just shook his head. “Damned waste, if you ask me. Reel the man in or move on, that’s my advice.”

“Not that I asked for it,” Susie said. She’d heard some version of the same advice for a couple of years now from just about everyone in her family, and a few outsiders to boot. It was getting tiresome, mostly because it was sound advice she didn’t particularly want to heed.

Unfortunately, as crazy as she’d been about Mack for most of her life, she was also a realist. Handsome, sexy ex-jocks who dated sexy, sophisticated, powerful women weren’t going to be seriously interested in a woman who was ordinary on her very best day and downright pitiful when the sun freckled her pale skin and her bright red hair refused to be tamed. Despite a college degree and a few family trips to Ireland, Susie was basically a small-town girl, not Mack’s type at all.

Though Shanna, who was married now to Susie’s cousin Kevin, had suggested that Mack was as infatuated as she was, Susie didn’t entirely believe her. She’d also discovered it was next to impossible to break a non-dating pattern once it had been established. With Mack and her, it was practically carved in stone. Other than one kiss under the mistletoe that had gotten decidedly out of hand, their relationship was strictly platonic. That kiss, however, had given her enough hope to give things between them more time to heat up.

“Maybe I’ll ask Mack to dinner myself,” Mick said, studying Susie intently as if to gauge her reaction. “How about that?”

She shrugged. “Up to you.” Being around Mack wasn’t the problem. They were together all the time. Turning it into anything romantic, that was the problem. Tying him to her bed and having her wicked way with him seemed extreme, though she was getting desperate enough to consider it.

Beyond that, she didn’t have one single idea about how she could change things without risking total humiliation. She wondered what her uncle would have to say if she asked him straight out how to get Mack to make love to her. Her lips curved just thinking about Mick’s reaction to such a query.

Mick regarded her suspiciously. “What are you smiling about?”

“I was just wondering how far you’d be willing to take your meddling,” she said, studying him curiously.

“Meaning?”

“You pride yourself on getting all five of my cousins happily married. What do you think you could do to get Mack and me to the altar?”

At the immediate glint in his eye, she reconsidered her question. “Not that I’m asking you to intervene,” she said hurriedly. “I’m just wondering.”

Mick pulled up a chair and sat down, his expression suddenly serious. “Okay, let’s think about this. I imagine I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve that might work.”

The daring side of Susie’s nature failed her at the eagerness in his voice. The status quo might well be better than the disaster her uncle might unleash. “Never mind, Uncle Mick. I think I’d better deal with Mack myself.”

“You sure about that?” he asked, looking disappointed. “Like you said yourself a minute ago, I have a track record.”

Susie knew for a fact that most of her cousins had found true love despite their father’s interference, not because of it. “I’m sure,” she said.

He shrugged. “Up to you, but I’m around if you change your mind. It’s obvious your father’s no help, but you can count on me.”

Susie fought to hide her smile. Once again, her uncle’s competitive spirit had reared its head. She might not know a lot about what the future held with Mack, but she knew with absolute certainty that the very last thing they needed was having her father and Mick in the middle of their relationship, vying for control of their future. Somehow she’d just have to figure out a way to get Mack to stop seeing her as a pal and realize that she was a desirable woman.

As Mick left the office, Susie glanced ruefully at her reflection in the window. First, though, she had to learn to see herself that way.

Mack walked into the managing editor’s office at his Baltimore newspaper a week before Thanksgiving, took one look at Don Richmond’s face and sat down hard.

“You’re firing me,” he said before his boss could. He should have known that being summoned into the office this morning couldn’t mean anything good.

“I hate this,” Don said, which wasn’t an outright confirmation, but it certainly wasn’t a denial.

He met Mack’s gaze with an earnest expression that begged him to understand. “I don’t have a choice, Mack. You know how it is. We’re making cutbacks in every department. The newspaper business has been going downhill for quite a while now, and we’re not immune.”

Don scowled at the computer on his desk. “It’s because of this,” he grumbled. “Darn things are taking over. I know the world is changing, but I didn’t think I’d live to see the day when newspapers would be all but obsolete.”

Mack had been anticipating the possibility of being fired for a while now. His sports column was widely read and sometimes controversial. The publisher didn’t always like dealing with the fallout after Mack had called some local athlete or team management on a boneheaded move. He said it was ruining his digestion when he had to face those same people at some benefit or other and defend Mack’s words.

Worse, of course, was that Mack was the highest-paid writer in the sports department. By firing him, they could hang on to a couple of low-paid interns and turn them into reporters. as the theory went these days, what they lacked in experience they’d make up for in energy.

“I’m sorry,” Don said, looking miserable. “You’ll get a decent severance package that should give you some time to look around for something else. Not that someone as good as you are will need them, but I’ll give you glowing references and every contact I have in the business.”

“But the bottom line is that I’m going to run into the same cutbacks anywhere I go,” Mack said realistically.

He’d tried to plan for this. The handwriting had been on the wall for months, but getting the news was still a blow. And none of his ideas for the future so far had excited him.

Still, as Don said, he’d have some time. It wasn’t as if he was going to be destitute. He was, however, going to be unemployed. Even though it was through no fault of his own, it left him feeling like a failure. He wondered if this was the way his own father had felt when he’d been jobless. Was that why he’d taken off before Mack was even born?

“How soon?” he asked Don. “Will they keep me on through football season?”

“Nope. End of the week. The publisher thinks keeping people around once they’re fired is bad for morale.”

Or maybe he was just afraid that if the body count became obvious, the remaining employees would cut and run. That’s what a few had done immediately after the last round of cutbacks.

Mack wasn’t sure he had the stomach for finishing out the week, much less football season, anyway. “How about I write a couple of columns from home this week?” he suggested. “Wrap things up from there?”

Don looked torn. “You want to just slip away? People are gonna be real unhappy about that. You should at least stick around long enough for the kind of blowout party you deserve down at Callahan’s.”

“No, thanks,” Mack said, shuddering at the thought. Being fired sucked, no matter the reason. He didn’t want to wallow in the humiliation in front of his colleagues. He didn’t much want to commiserate with them, either.

“Okay, then, whatever works for you,” Don agreed with obvious reluctance.

Unfortunately, what worked for Mack was keeping a job he loved in a business that was disappearing practically overnight.

At home that night, as the news really sank in, along with all of the financial implications for the short term, Mack stared morosely at the black velvet box sitting on his coffee table.

He’d finally decided to take a huge leap of faith and ask Susie O’Brien to marry him, even though she’d always said she’d rather eat dirt than even go out on a date with a promiscuous player like him. He’d figured several years of dating without acknowledging it ought to just about equal officially courting her for a few months.

Maybe she’d overlook the fact that they’d shared only one memorable, bone-melting kiss in all that time. He doubted she’d forgotten it. He certainly hadn’t. The heat and sweetness of it were burned into his memory. He’d never anticipated falling in love, much less with a vulnerable bundle of contradictions like Susie, but it had happened. It had caught him completely off guard.

Now, however, with his financial prospects in doubt, proposing was out of the question. He couldn’t even think about marrying anyone until he figured out what he was going to do with the rest of his life. And right this second, with a couple of glasses of scotch dulling the pain of his firing, he didn’t even want to cross paths with Susie, who’d been telling him for weeks now that he was in a dying profession. Not that he’d ever contradicted her—how could he?—but he wasn’t quite ready for an I told you so.

When his phone rang repeatedly that night, he ignored it. When his cell phone rang off and on the next day, he ignored that, too. Messages were accumulating on both lines, but he wasn’t interested. Normally an upbeat, positive guy, he was in an unparalleled funk. He figured he was entitled to wallow there for a few days at least.

Unfortunately, his friends Will Lincoln and Jake Collins had other ideas. After one day of not joining them for their regular lunch at Sally’s, they were banging on his door. Since each of them had a key for emergencies, Mack wasn’t surprised when they barged right in two seconds after knocking. Both of them stopped and stared at the mostly empty bottle of scotch and the box of half-eaten pizza, then took in his disheveled appearance.

“What the devil happened to you?” Will demanded. “You’re not answering your phone. You didn’t show up for lunch. You didn’t call. And, sorry to say, you look like hell.”

“Actually you look worse,” Jake added, regarding him speculatively. “When was the last time you shaved? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking less than immaculate. Did you and Susie have a fight?”

“Susie and I don’t fight,” Mack said wearily. “This has nothing to do with her.”

“Then explain,” Will said, sitting down and regarding him patiently.

Mack knew that as a shrink, Will was perfectly capable of sitting there exactly like that for the rest of the evening, waiting him out. “Lost my job,” he said eventually. “I’m not taking it well.”

Neither of his friends reacted with shock, which proved that they, too, had seen the handwriting on the wall.

“Why would you be expected to take it well?” Jake asked. “Nobody likes being fired. I’m really sorry, man.”

Mack sighed at the sympathy. It was exactly what he’d been hoping to avoid, but now that he couldn’t, it felt good knowing that his friends were in his corner.

“I loved that stupid job,” he told them mournfully. “I was good at it.”

“And you’ll find one that’s even better,” Will said. “Like you said, you’re good.”

“Newspapers are a dying breed,” Mack lamented, taking another sip of scotch. “If I stay in the business, I’ll just be prolonging the inevitable.”

“Now, that’s a cheery attitude,” Jake said, this time without a hint of sympathy. Taking his cue from Will, he’d apparently gone into booster mode, as well. “Can I tag along on your first job interview?”

“Bite me,” Mack retorted, smiling despite his sour mood.

“You have any more of that scotch?” Will asked.

“Why?”

“If you’re going to sit here and get drunk, we’re not going to let you do it alone,” Will insisted. He found two glasses, then poured the drinks.

Jake took a sip and grimaced. “I hate this stuff. Tastes like medicine. Do you have any beer?”

“Of course,” Mack said. “Why do I suddenly feel as if I should be playing host? I’m supposed to be sulking.”

“Was the sulking helping?” Will asked.

Mack shrugged. “Not that much.”

“Then leave it to us to cheer you up,” Will said. “Or would you rather we call Susie? I’m sure she’d be happy to come over if she knew what was going on.”

“Absolutely not,” Mack said at once. “I don’t want her to know about this.”

Both men regarded him incredulously.

“That’s crazy,” Jake said. “You can’t keep a secret like this, not in Chesapeake Shores.”

“I want to have something new lined up before I see her,” Mack insisted. “I will not have her pitying me or hovering over me. Besides, she’s been predicting something like this for a long time now and, in her own less than subtle way, trying to get me to plan for it. I’m not up for the gloating.”

“Gloating?” Will shook his head. “Do you really think that would be Susie’s response?”

“Probably not, but even gloating would be better than pity.”

“Has it occurred to you that Susie has a pretty level head on her shoulders? She could help,” Jake said. “I think she’d want to.”

“No,” Mack said flatly.

“How are you planning to avoid her?” Will asked reasonably. “You two have practically been joined at the hip for a very long time. If you check your messages, I’m quite sure you’ll find that several of them are from her. I’m sure she’s already worried. She’s called both Jake and me to see if we know what’s going on.”

“You could let her know I’m okay,” Mack suggested. “Tell her I had to go out of town or something.”

Jake immediately shook his head. “I don’t think so, pal. The way I hear it, Mick is inviting you to the family Thanksgiving next week. Turn him down at your peril.”

“Why?” Mack asked, feeling panicked by the thought of his news coming out amid all those well-meaning O’Briens. “I mean, why me? Why this year? I’ve never been invited before.”

“Bree’s theory is that Mick’s decided it’s time for you and Susie to get off the dime and move this relationship forward,” Jake said, obviously quoting his wife. “Bree thought Mick ought to wait for Jeff to do it, but you know how Mick loves trumping his brother on anything. Sadly, you also know what Mick’s like when he starts matchmaking. His tactics have as much finesse as a bulldozer.”

Mack moaned. “Can I get out of this? Maybe I really will go out of town.”

Will chuckled. “Bad idea. I don’t see how you can get out of this, at least not without offending Susie, which I don’t think you want to do.”

“If she knew what was going on, she’d understand,” Mack said, a note of desperation in his voice.

“But you don’t want to tell her,” Jake reminded him. “You’re pretty much between a rock and a hard place here.”

It was a catch-22, all right. If Mick officially issued that invitation to Thanksgiving dinner, Mack would have to be there. And while everyone else was counting their blessings, he could be praying that his news didn’t leak out with a serving of humble pie for dessert.

Or he could bite the bullet, call Susie and fill her in. Maybe she wouldn’t hover over him as if there’d been a death in his family. He supposed in some ways losing a job could rank right up there with the loss of someone important, but he didn’t need pity or well-meant advice right now. He didn’t know what he did need, but it wasn’t that.

The third option would be to get out of town tonight so the invitation could never be issued in the first place. That one held the most appeal, but it smacked of cowardice. Mack might be an unemployed member of a dying profession, but he was no coward.

Suddenly Will’s gaze landed on the jewelry box sitting on the coffee table. His expression brightened. “Is that what I think it is?”

Jake followed the direction of his gaze. “An engagement ring? You bought an engagement ring? Is it for Susie?”

Mack scowled at the question, “Who else would it be for? I haven’t been out with another woman for a long time now.”

Jake shrugged. “You could be dating a whole slew of them. People have secret lives that not even their best friends know about. I heard about it on Oprah.”

Will and Mack both stared at him. “Since when do you watch daytime television?” Will inquired, his eyes alight with amusement.

“Bree has it on at the flower shop sometimes,” Jake responded defensively. “I see it when I make deliveries there. It’s not like I race home to watch every afternoon.”

Mack grinned. “Good to know.”

“Hold it,” Will said. “How’d we get away from the real question here? Are you planning to ask Susie to marry you?”

“Not anymore,” Mack said, sinking right back into despondency. “How can I? The timing sucks.”

“I doubt Susie would agree,” Will said. “She’s been waiting for a very long time for you to wake up and see the light. I don’t think your temporary unemployment would deter her from saying yes.”

“It wouldn’t be right,” Mack insisted. “I need to get my life back in order first.” He frowned at his friends. “And if either of you mention a word about this to anyone, I swear you’ll live to regret it. Am I clear?”

“Got it,” Jake said.

“No one will hear it from me,” Will agreed.

“Thank you.”

“But I am going on record telling you that waiting is a mistake,” Will said. “Life’s short. Don’t waste a minute of it.”

“Says the man who took forever to get around to asking Jess O’Brien to go on a date, much less marry him,” Jake commented.

“Different situation entirely,” Will claimed, then grinned. “But, yeah, I wasted too much time. Don’t follow my example. Learn from my experience.”

“The timing’s all wrong,” Mack reiterated. “And I don’t want to talk about any of this anymore. What do you guys think about that backup quarterback the Ravens picked up? He’s looking good, don’t you think?”

Will and Jake exchanged a look, then sighed.

“Real good,” Jake agreed.

“I was planning to write a column about him next week…” Mack began, but his voice trailed off. He reached for his scotch again. It didn’t seem to matter what they talked about. Right this second, his entire life sucked.

“You guys might as well go,” he said. “I’m lousy company.”

Both men shook their heads.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jake said. “We stick together.”

“Jake’s right,” Will said. “But if I’m going to drink any more, we’d better think about ordering a pizza. This disgusting day-old glob sitting on the table is starting to look downright tasty to me. And if I don’t eat, I’ll wind up falling asleep on your floor, and Jess will be on the warpath.”

“Ditto with Bree,” Jake said.

Mack saw the determination on their faces and sighed. “I’ll make the call.”

“Extra sausage,” Jake said.

“Extra cheese,” Will added.

Mack chuckled. “I know you two don’t order like that when your wives are around. Last I heard, you were limited to the veggie specials.”

“Sadly true,” Jake said despondently. “That’s why we love you. You don’t judge us for our disgusting eating habits.”

“Who knew that pizza was the bond that would keep us together for a lifetime,” Mack said wryly.

“That, and knowing too many of each other’s deep dark secrets,” Will added. He held up his glass of scotch. “To friends.”

Mack and Jake tapped his glass with their own. Maybe there was one part of his life that didn’t suck, after all. He had some of the best friends around.

That one of them also happened to be the woman he loved was just a bonus. He’d have to think about that after these two went home. Maybe talking to Susie about all this wouldn’t be quite the disaster he’d been envisioning.

Then again, a man had his pride.