“You have three more rusty bolts,” he said. “I could-”
“I can take it from here.”
Of course she could. “Because God forbid you actually lean on someone, right?”
“I lean plenty.”
“Prove it. I know there’s something going on here, Mel. So prove it-lean on me. Let me help.”
She hesitated, as if she just might decide to actually trust him, but in the end she slowly shook her head and walked away, leaving him hot, wet, still turned on…and disappointed. Extremely disappointed.
Wayne took Dimi out to the fanciest restaurant in town, and then they drank and danced for hours before going to a five-star hotel and roughing up the sheets.
So one would think she’d wake up with a smile on her face, but instead she drove into North Beach feeling hungover and…empty.
Intent on getting over herself, she entered the lobby head down, searching through her purse for her favorite lip gloss as she went, then plowed right into Danny. “Oomph,” she said, teetering on her heels.
He put his hands on her hips until she gained her balance, then pulled back immediately, leaving her with the oddest sense of loss.
“Someone on your tail again?” he asked.
She looked into his face, void of its usually friendly smile. He smelled like the coconut wax he’d probably used on his surfboard that morning, and the scent was so familiar she felt a little rush of comfort, despite his distant expression. “No. Thanks.”
“I was going to ask how you are, but let me guess. You’re fantastic, right?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
He gazed at her for a long moment, as if maybe he wanted to say something, but in the end, he simply nodded and let her pass.
She shrugged off the encounter with a big mug of tea and sat at her desk. Because the afternoon before she’d left off in a great part of her book, she dove right back in, and it was thirty minutes before the phone bothered her. After transferring the call to Mel, she sipped her tea and realized someone had left a small box in her top drawer, wrapped in pretty pink paper.
Lifting her head, she looked around. No one. She opened the box and pulled out a small but beautiful candle, decorated with seashells and scented like a glorious summer day. It put a smile on her face as she searched for a card, a signature…nothing.
She looked around again, expecting to see someone watching her-Mel, Char, one of the early-bird customers-but no one was paying her any attention at all.
Hmmm…She lit the candle and went to work. But after a few moments, the smile was gone and worry weeded its way through her as she called Mel’s office.
“Hey,” Mel answered, sounding a little breathless.
Dimi frowned. “What are you doing in there?”
“Eating bonbons and watching Oprah. How about you?”
“Funny. I’m going through the billing.”
“Yeah? About time-”
“Yeah, yeah. Look, it’s a good news-bad news sort of thing. Good news: you’ve got a message from a few of your receivables, money is coming in the mail for Anderson Air. Bad news: somebody else has been here.”
“Customers are good.”
“Stick with me, Mel. Somebody has been in my billings for North Beach.”
Suddenly she had Mel’s full attention. “Doing what?”
“Not sure,” Dimi admitted. “But the date these files were last accessed was yesterday morning, and…”-she hated to admit this-“I haven’t worked on them since the day before yesterday.”
“It was Bo. He told me you’d left your accounting up on the screen when he sat at your desk to help with the phones.”
“To help with the planes, not help himself to my files! Bastard.”
“Yeah. But Dimi, Jesus. You must have left your computer on all night. You can’t leave that stuff up and available to anyone with two eyes.”
“Two eyes, and our deed.” Dimi rubbed the tense spot between her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’m just…stressed.”
“I know.”
“What if he stays?” Dimi asked softly. “What if he fires us? God, Mel, what else could I even do for a job? I’m uniquely suited for nothing!”
“Look, let’s not borrow trouble, okay? We don’t even know if the deed’s legit.”
“Right. It isn’t. It can’t be.”
“Exactly.”
Dimi drew a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll try to maintain. Oh, and thanks for the beautiful candle.”
Mel paused. “Uh…not me.”
Dimi looked at the flickering wick, inhaled the incredibly soothing scent. “No?”
“No.”
Dimi shook her head as the phone began to ring. “Gotta go.” She switched lines. “North Beach.”
“Dimi.”
Hmmm, deep, mysterious male voice. So far so good. “Yes,” she said. “Can I help you?”
“It’s Todd.”
Todd. She didn’t know a-
“From the other night.”
Dimi went still.
“I came in on my brother’s jet with some other guys, and we-”
“I remember.” Previously Gorgeous Guy.
“Did you like the candle?”
Leaning forward, she blew out the candle, watched the thin line of smoke rise into the air. “I’m hanging up now. Don’t call me again.”
“Wait-I just wanted to apologize, and-”
“Apology accepted. Good-bye.” She clicked off and tossed the candle in the trash. Then, on second thought, pulled it out and left it on the corner of her desk as a reminder that she made bad decisions, and in light of that…no more men. Not a single one.
Mel sat at her desk and stared at her phone. Today was the day she’d hear from her attorney, and knowing that had her body quivering with a high level of awareness.
Or maybe that was just from yet another long night of sensual dreams in which she’d let Bo strip off more than her coveralls, in a world where he could press her naked up against the Hawker and take her…
Jeez, the porno dreams had to stop! She’d managed to avoid Bo this morning by sheer luck, because he’d flown out early and had stayed out. A good thing because he was so damn potently, outrageously, dangerously sexy, she could hardly stand it.
He had customers waiting for him. Turned out he was a popular guy, and had a lot of connections.
Not only that, but he’d brought business into North Beach, a lot of it. Every day someone new stopped by-someone he’d recommended the place to, for fuel or maintenance…or to hire him to find them an antique aircraft. He was single-handedly saving North Beach. She didn’t really want to think about that, so instead she went into the café for something bad for her.
Charlene was there, gushing all over one of her customers, a woman with a young baby, both of whom had come in on a flight and were waiting on maintenance. The baby was wailing away, little arms and legs bicycling like crazy, her face bright red from the efforts.
“Wow,” Mel said, realizing the kid was actually putting out more decibels than Van Halen on the radio, and that was saying something. “She’s got a set of lungs.”
The mother, looking a little harassed, blew out a breath. “Got that from her daddy. She likes to listen to herself all night long.”
“Give her here.” Char cuddled her close. “Ah, look at you,” she cooed with a smile. “You’re such a pretty thing.”
The full-out wail lessened slightly. “Yeah, that’s it,” Char murmured, stroking her fingers over the baby’s forehead. “That’s it. You’re nearly all done now, aren’t you?”
And unbelievably, the crying stopped.
They all stared at the baby, who looked up at Char with huge, soaked eyes and trembly rosebud mouth.
“My God,” the mother breathed. “Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop.”
Char smiled down at the baby. “Oh, look at you, you’re so precious.”
Al came out of the kitchen, saw the baby in his wife’s arms, took in the look on her face, and sighed. “Ah, man.”