Sid shot Lucas a challenging look as she spoke to Artie. “We don’t mind watching the movie alone.”
Sitting in a darkened room, on a couch, alone with Sid. His brain said not a good idea, but other parts of his anatomy were all for it.
“What kind of theater has couches instead of chairs?” Lucas asked. Theaters had seats. Individual, hard, uncomfortable seats. With protective and immovable arms between them.
“The welcoming kind,” Artie said, an innocent grin splitting his chubby face.
“You go grab our … uh … couch, Sid. I want to talk to Artie for a second.” Time to discuss the Ledbetter fiasco and nip this legal advice crap in the bud.
“Extra butter on your popcorn?” she asked, walking backward toward a large red popcorn machine.
“Yeah, thanks.” Turning to Artie he said, “I don’t appreciate you sending the Ledbetters to see me this morning.” Had it really only been this morning? From his inadvisable encounter with Sid on the beach to now felt more like a week had gone by.
“Aw,” Artie said, waving Lucas’s words away. “They just needed a mediator to help ’em work out that tree issue. I’m out of the business now, but I knew you could handle it.”
“Artie.” Lucas ran a hand through his hair, struggling to remain patient with his former boss. “I am on this island for one reason: to run my family’s restaurant while my dad recovers. I am not here to practice law, mediate tree issues, or take over your practice. And don’t think I don’t know that’s what you’re up to.”
The lawyer cum theater owner looked wounded, revealing acting skills that would have been priceless when applied in a courtroom. “I object to your accusation.”
Clearly you could take the man out of the lawyering but not the lawyering out of the man.
“Object all you like, but I’m on to you, Arthur Berkowitz.” Lucas pointed a finger at the opposing counselor’s chest. “Don’t send anyone else to see me about a legal matter. I practice in Richmond, not here.”
“But your license to practice in Virginia is good here too,” Artie pointed out, unfazed by Lucas’s stern tone. The man was being obtuse on purpose.
“Irrelevant. Let it go, Artie. I’m not moving back here.”
But if I did, I could have Sid.
That disturbing thought took him by such surprise, Lucas actually stepped back, bumping into the fake fern behind him. Where in the hell did his brain get off throwing that kind of bullshit into the ether? And no he could not have Sid. He didn’t even want Sid. The woman would have him jumping off a pier into shark-infested waters within hours.
“You all right there, Lucas? You look like you’re having a stroke.”
Lucas wasn’t sure what the symptoms of a stroke might be, but if sudden loss of sanity was one, he could definitely be in trouble.
Shaking his head as if to eject the crazy thoughts out his ears, Lucas stepped forward again. “I’m fine. Sugar rush from the cheesecake I had at the marina.”
Right. Sugar was doing this to his system. He looked to his left and spotted Sid leaning over the back of a cushy, red leather sofa, watching him with a look that made him feel like he should have been on the dessert menu. Damn woman.
“Just remember what I said, Artie.” He walked into the theater, tempted to claim a couch of his own. But that would reveal a weakness that Sid would no doubt pounce on until she had him moaning against that hot little body of hers.
Be strong, Dempsey. That way madness lies.
When Lucas finally joined her on the red sofa, Sid had no idea what to do next. She’d been talking big all night. Talking big had been her specialty for years. And in most cases, she could back it up with action. But in this moment, she was totally out of her element.
Sid had never seduced anyone. In fact, she could count her sexual encounters on one hand and still have three fingers left over. The dating pool wasn’t deep on Anchor. Most of the males on the island saw Sid as one of the guys, which never bothered her. Much. Unless they made some joke about her liking other women. She’d punched men for lesser transgressions.
As for the tourists, they hit on her often enough, but a fling with a stranger didn’t appeal. Which she supposed made Lucas and Will correct on the casual thing. So Sid didn’t change bed partners like changing her socks. She didn’t have sex just for the sake of having it. So what?
A fling with Lucas would be different. For one thing, he wasn’t a stranger. And though he’d never again live on the island, he had ties here. He’d be back. Seeing him once or a twice a year would suck, but that had always sucked. She’d survived this long. She’d survive again.
And as Will put it, he’d be out of her system. She could get on with her life without this unrequited thing hanging over her head.
“Where do we get the drinks?” Lucas asked, setting his bag of popcorn on the table in front of the couch. Artie had collected every unwanted couch and coffee table he could find on the island to furnish the place. Gave a nice home theater vibe. Sid hoped it would lead Lucas to forget they were in a public place.
“There’s a fridge back that way, near the bathrooms.” Sid pointed toward a hallway to their right. “Just leave a dollar in the honor box next to it. I’ll take a bottle of water.” Her stomach tended to make strange noises when she drank soda late at night. Would not be good trying to get cozy with Lucas in the dark only to have him think an alien might burst through her belly button.
With a nod, her date—which was more fun to say than she’d admit—headed for the hallway. Just as he disappeared around the corner, a shrill voice echoed from the back of the room.
“Sidney Navarro? Is that you?”
Shit damn fuck. Not Crystal Casternack. Not tonight.
“Aw, are you here by yourself?” The slender blonde gave a knowing smile to her minions, Heather Ledbetter, who had the misfortune of looking just like her dad, and Lissa Whitmore, the most clueless twit to ever graduate from Anchor High.
Why couldn’t Lucas’s prom date have put on a hundred pounds and grown a mole? On her chin? That sprouted long black hairs?
“Now that we’re here, you can pretend you came with friends.”
Sid would rather drop a couch on Crystal’s head. No jury would convict her. “I’m not alone, Casterhack, but thanks.”
Prom queen’s jaw tensed. “That’s Casternack.”
“Right. My bad.” Sid hunkered down deeper into the couch, thinking of all the ways she could turn Crystal and her chicklets into fish bait. No one would ever find the bodies.
A second later, the dimmed sconces on the walls went out and the sixty-inch flat screen at the front of the room came to life. Halfway through the first trailer, Lucas returned to the couch, nearly tripping over the coffee table and landing on the cushion beside her with an oomph.
“Holy shit. Why didn’t you warn me how dark this place would get?”
Shushing noises came from the couch beside them. Thanks to Artie’s penchant for a totally black theater, Lucas’s identity remained a mystery to the three bimbettes.
“Who is that?” Leaning forward, Lucas tried to see who was beside them. Of course the screen went bright white in that moment, increasing visibility.
“Lucas Dempsey, is that you?”
Sid gritted her teeth until her jaw ached. She longed to make Crystal’s jaw ache.
“This is Lucas. Who are you?”
“It’s Crystal, silly?” Blondie said, as if they’d been chatting on the phone just last week. Sid snagged her water from Lucas and resisted the urge to accidentally douse the next couch with it.
“Crystal?” Lucas’s seeming confusion won bonus points from Sid. With fewer than ten people in his graduating class, how hard could it be to remember the chick he took to prom? He had to be playing stupid.