Читать книгу The Best Of Me - Tina Wainscott, Tina Wainscott - Страница 9

THE BAHAMIAN SUN seemed even brighter and warmer than the one in St. Paul. Especially now that fall was moving in, rendering the air crisp and the skies muddy. But here in this strange world, the air was muggy and warm even at seven-thirty in the morning.

Lucy’s heels clicked loudly across the concrete and echoed off the buildings as she made her way to the park’s office. At lunch she would go shopping for something casual. She had resolved that under no circumstances would she even glance at Liberty’s pool, but her gaze drew right to it. And right to Chris. All she could see of him was that head of curls and his shoulders gleaming in the early morning sun. Instantly she remembered his sultry words about seeing him naked. Worse, her body remembered, too, becoming hot and steamy itself. He wasn’t serious. And just because he was sexy didn’t mean she wanted to see him naked. As he started to glance up at the noise her shoes created, she averted her gaze to the wooden shutters of the office.

The air was warm and stale inside, without sign of an air conditioner anywhere. Just one old-fashioned fan that made the articles taped to the walls flutter. She propped the door open with a pink conch shell filled with cement. Once safely inside the office, she opened those shutters and peeked out over the other pools to Liberty.

“Good morning, Miss Lucy!” Bailey said in a loud, cheerful voice that made her jump.

Her fingers involuntarily slammed the shutters closed with a loud clack. She turned to his beaming face and tried not to look irritated, or worse, guilty.

“Good grief, Bailey, make some noise before coming in like that.”

“Sorry, ma’am. I jus’ wondered if you needed any help with the figures, or deciding on whether to keep the place open.”

“No, but thank you. Being left alone will be the biggest help.” She opened the shutters again, but did not look out. “I see the wicked man is back.”

“Yah, in the wee hours this morning. I t’ink the man is part fish.”

“That would explain a lot.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. All right, I’ve got to get to work.”

It was easy to reduce her father’s park to numbers. Business was her life, even if the creative side was her favorite part. Here, making it a business meant not looking at it as something her estranged father owned, and perhaps loved. Well, as much as a man like that could love something. He’d told her a few times that he’d loved her, too, but she felt neglected as perhaps Liberty was.

Silvery reflections from the Touching Tank danced across the walls like restless ghosts. Her gaze went out the window again, where Chris’s long arms were outstretched and water splashed up to sparkle in the air. In some ways he reminded her of Sonny, or at least of the image she’d always had of him: seafaring, wandering and a loner. She wondered if he had ever been lonely, her father, and what he felt inside, and then she realized she was thinking about Chris and not her father at all.

“Hellooo,” Bailey said in a singsong voice as he poked his head in the doorway a few hours later. “I didn’t scare you dis time, did I?”

“Not much.”

He stepped inside, looking crisp and professional in his white uniform. “Are you going to close us down?”

“I’m still looking at the numbers.”

“I t’ink you were looking out da window, Miss Lucy,” he said with a solemn nod.

She felt a warm flush and hoped he hadn’t seen exactly where she’d been looking. “I was thinking. Now go away and let me think some more.”

“Yes, Miss Lucy.”

He disappeared, and she caught herself smiling. Miss Lucy. Her lips quirked even more. Miz Lucy. Chris only called her that in fun, but something in the way he said the words rippled through her. Ridiculous. Back to the numbers.

Not thirty minutes later, Bailey was back in the doorway with that white grin. “Decision yet?”

“No, and go away!”

BAILEY HELD OUT until almost noon this time.

She glanced over at her notepad full of numbers and calculations, then up at his hopeful face. “It doesn’t look good.” He dropped into one of the chairs in front of her desk. She felt as though she were firing the man, like she’d fired a few people back home. They looked the same way, and she felt the same way: bad. “This place was scraping by as it was. I don’t know how long even Sonny could have kept it going. Without the star attraction, I don’t see that it has a chance.”

“We could buy another dolphin fish,” he said.

“No, I’m afraid we can’t afford one, no matter what they cost. Besides, unless we get better facilities, Mr. Maddox will be back to take him away, too.”

Bailey lifted an eyebrow. “You could beg him, you know, bat your eyelashes and say pretty please can we keep the dolphin fish?”

She lowered her chin. “Have you been talking to a particular bartender at Barney’s?”

He looked innocent enough. “No, why?”

“Never mind. Anyway, I’m not the kind of woman who can convince a man to do things he doesn’t want to do.”

“Sure you are. You’re very pretty.”

“Thank you, but pretty isn’t going to cut it. It never has, to be honest with you. Anyway, forget the begging thing. I’m not going to ask him to leave Liberty because I already know he won’t.”

“You’re right,” another voice said from the doorway. “You could be Marilyn Monroe reincarnated and you wouldn’t get me to give Liberty back to you.”

That flush Lucy experienced earlier was nothing compared to the full fire that lit her face now. She met those green eyes that reeked of smugness. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Since the begging thing.”

She made a sound that combined embarrassment and irritation and wasn’t ladylike by any means. “What do you want?”

Bailey made a quick exit, mumbling something about feeding the squid. Chris wore that bathing suit that had to be illegal on a body like his, moving up to her desk and planting his hands on the edge. His long fingers were shriveled underneath. He wore a band made of colored threads on his right wrist, though sun and water had faded it a little.

“I was wondering if Sonny kept any records on Liberty. Medical, training…anything like that.”

If the person behind the desk was supposed to emit any kind of authority, she was doing a poor job. “You’re dripping on my desk,” she finally said, standing to face him.

He glanced down at the droplets of water swirling down his curls and puddling on the Formica surface. “Sorry.” He stood, forcing her to look up at him again.

“I’ll look around.”

He glanced down at the paperwork scattered across the desk. “I can look if you’re busy.”

“I need a break anyway.”

She found a junk drawer, another filled with more maps and notes on places like Aruba and Barbados, and stacks of National Geographic dating back to the seventies. She walked to the four-drawer filing cabinet. He walked up behind her, so close she could feel the moist heat emanating from him.

“Thanks for the drink, by the way,” she said, diverting her thoughts.

“No problem.”

Her fingers flipped through the hanging folders, nails clicking against the plastic tabs in Sonny’s small writing that read Moray Eels, Sea Turtles and Clown Fish. It was then that she realized she hadn’t only inherited numbers; she’d inherited living creatures that depended on humans to feed and take care of them. Who now depended on her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“There are so many creatures here.”

“Haven’t you seen them yet?”

She glanced to her left, finding him right beside her. “Just a cursory glance. I wanted to look at the numbers first.”

“Of course.” He glanced back at the desk. “Did you inherit a moneymaker or a money pit?”

She turned to face him, finding him still too close to her personal zone. “I don’t care about the money aspect. I just need to figure out what I’m going to do with this place.”

“Surely not move here to run it, not the advertising princess.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I am not an advertising princess.”

He scanned her styled hair, gold-plated barrette, and continued slowly, agonizingly down the rest of her body. “Look like one to me.” Despite his words, his eyes gave away some appreciation of what he saw.

The man was infuriating, but she tried her best to hold her mouth firm and not show him the effect his appraisal was having on her. She locked her knees and stood straighter. “Is there some reason you’ve chosen to pick on me? I mean, am I lucky, or are you holding my father’s treatment of Liberty against me?”

“Neither.”

“Okay, then for some reason you think I’ve, what, set my sights on you? That I’m attracted to you in some bizarre way, and you want to anger me so I’ll change my mind?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. Leaning closer, he said, “Maybe I just enjoy getting your ire up.” His hand slid past her and snatched a file from the drawer. “I’ll return this when I’m done.”

“Keep it!” she shouted after his glistening, retreating back.

Ooh, he was a wicked man.

LATER IN THE DAY, she took a cab into the shopping district to find appropriate attire. She felt out of place wearing tailored clothing among a population dressed for fun. Unfortunately, she was out of practice for fun.

Had she really thought that?

She was darn well going to get back into it, then. She bought several outfits, changing into white shorts and a flowery shirt before returning to the park.

The sight of Chris’s moped made her smile and wince at the same time. He probably didn’t even own a car, yet he could make fun of the car her friends, employees and most importantly, her ex, drooled over. What did the man know about being happy, anyway? The Great Green Lie, indeed.

She was surprised to find Chris absent from Liberty’s pool, more surprised at feeling disappointed. Her leather sandals quietly took her over where Liberty swam in circles beneath the surface. She crouched down and watched him, pleased when he lifted his head out of the water to look at her. What secrets of the universe did he hold? Looking into that horseshoe-shaped pupil, she believed he knew them all.

“Hi there, fellow,” she said, returning his grin.

She glanced around to see if Chris had left the bucket. “Sorry, guy, no fish to give you. I’m sure the creep will give you something soon.”

She squeezed her eyes shut when she heard the creep walk up behind her. Not only had they gotten off on the wrong foot, they were walking a mile on it. Oh, but he was a gentleman as always. No snide remark from him, no rubbing in her tactless remark.

He simply threw a fish in her lap.

She screamed as the slimy, headless thing landed on her, inadvertently batting it into the water where Liberty scooped it up. She jumped to her feet and faced Chris.

“You, you….”

“Creep?” he supplied with a lifted eyebrow.

“Yes!” She wiped at her new clothes, hoping they didn’t smell of fish. “And a few other words I’m too much of a lady to use.” No other man, even her ex, ruffled her the way Chris did.

He shrugged with one shoulder. “Sounded like you wanted to feed him, so I obliged. Shucks, I thought women liked chivalry.”

She couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped. “Chivalry? I’m surprised you even know the word. How many women do you know that like fish thrown at them? Tell me that, hmm?” She turned back to the dolphin, her hands still clenched at her sides. “And what is it around here with people sneaking up on me?”

Chris sat down at the edge of the pool, and Liberty seemed to know the bucket had arrived. He bobbed his head and made whistling, clicking noises. Chris lifted up his hand, and Liberty met his palm with a touch of his nose. Something tightened in Lucy’s stomach at that simple act of trust.

“Aw, that is so sweet, touching his nose to your hand.”

He broke the moment by pointing out, “That’s not his nose. His nose is here.” He gestured to Liberty’s blowhole. “That’s where he breathes. He touched my hand with his snout.”

“I’m just learning more and more each day.” Despite the teacher, she did want to know more about Liberty.

“I’d ask if you wanted to feed him, but I know the advertising princess wouldn’t want to touch a dead fish.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Give me the stupid fish.” Why was it so important to prove him wrong? “And this time not in my lap, if you don’t mind.”

“Come to think of it, I didn’t get very high scores in chivalry class.” He handed her a Spanish mackerel, trying not to laugh as she took it with the very tips of her polished fingernails. He was goading her and enjoying the heck out of it. What he wasn’t sure of was exactly why he was doing either.

“Hold it beneath the water,” he said. “I’m trying to get him to eat underwater from now on, like wild dolphins do.”

She dangled the fish by where the tail used to be, and Liberty lifted himself up out of the water. “No, no, you have to let me put it in the water,” she said earnestly, all traces of her ire gone. She dunked the fish in the water, and Liberty took hold of it. Her delight caught him in the gut, a look of pure amazement on a heart-shaped face that was prettier than she thought. Not Marilyn Monroe pretty, but pretty enough.

Liberty came out of the water and tossed the fish to position it before swallowing it. Lucy giggled, then turned to him. “Can I feed him again?”

He should have told her to scram. He had work to do and he wanted as little human contact with Liberty as possible. But before he could form those words, his hand was already passing her another mackerel.

“Why don’t you just free him now?” she asked.

“Because he’s not used to fending for himself.” He threw another fish to the far side of the pool. “He’s been humanized. Everything a dolphin is comes from his hierarchy within the pod.”

“You mentioned a pod before. What exactly is it?”

“The school or any group of dolphins. Together, they can protect each other and hunt for food. Liberty here is a nobody. He probably doesn’t even know he’s a dolphin anymore.”

She watched Liberty with such compassion, he was actually touched for a moment. Then he remembered who she was, what she represented.

“I have to teach him to become a dolphin, to catch live fish, and to swim in a straight line again. It’s not only Liberty’s health I want to restore, it’s his spirit.”

She looked at him with those deep brown eyes. “I think that’s…wonderful.”

He looked away, uncomfortable with that gaze. “It’s just what I do.”

“Do you get paid for doing this?”

He laughed, because that sounded more like the advertising princess. “Untraining dolphins is not on the list of professions a woman looks for in a future husband. In other words,” he said before she could get too huffy, “no, I don’t get paid. Someone usually contacts me about a dolphin in trouble, and I ask them to get someone to sponsor me to come out and investigate. I get proof and go to the authorities for permission to free the dolphin. People send in donations, and when I’m home, I work odd jobs to get by.”

Liberty swam by, brushing against his legs. Contact, trust. It was a start. He put his hand into the water, but Liberty hesitated, keeping his distance.

“So you travel all over doing this?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“Why?”

He stood, less comfortable with her questions than with her gaze. “Like I said, it’s what I do.”

She stood too, planting her hands on her hips. “You should hire an agency to get the word out about your organization and bring in financial support.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, right. I can’t afford any kind of agency, and I don’t want what I do played out to tug at the heartstrings of America. I do the occasional radio or television appearance because it’s good for publicity, and that’s it.”

“Fine, whatever,” she said in clipped tones.

She’d changed into clothing more befitting to the atmosphere, but he wasn’t about to comment on that or her nice legs in those blue shorts. Or the way the red hibiscus flowers on her shirt molded to her full breasts in the breeze. He didn’t want the advertising princess to get the wrong idea. She was definitely not his speed. He was in the no-wake zone, she was freeway.

“So, Miz Lucy, what are you going to do with this place anyway?”

She looked around, as if the answer might be found somewhere nearby. Bailey waved, his smile overly bright.

“Do you really care, now that you have your dolphin?”

He shrugged. “I’m wondering more for all of the other marine animals. If you sell it to someone like your father, what will happen to everything in here?”

She looked at him, her brows furrowed. “You don’t think my father mistreated Liberty because he was…wicked, do you?”

“No,” he said with some amount of certainty. She obviously wanted to believe her father wasn’t such a bad guy; he could grant her that. “He was looking at the bottom line. And he probably just didn’t know any better. Mostly, people think animals are put here for our amusement or use. He was one of those people.” He turned back to the pool, more comfortable with working with the dolphin than talking to Lucy. “Well, Miz Lucy, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.” He tipped his head at her and slid into the water.

He waited a few minutes before looking back to see her walking to the long building that housed the aquariums. She didn’t know her father, wasn’t aware that he even owned this place if he remembered correctly. But she’d done all right anyway, at least by the world’s standards. And she definitely belonged in that world. He’d be glad when she returned to it. She was fast becoming a temptation he didn’t need.