Lisa (Beach Brides Book 6) Read online

  A half-hour later, he stood at the front door of Bella’s Enchanted Bed and Breakfast, hoping to catch Lisa at home. He pushed open the door of the office and saw her standing next to the window overlooking the driveway. She must have seen him arrive.

  “Hi,” she said sharply, sounding as though she found his presence uncomfortable. She wore white jean shorts and a pink top with puffy sleeves and a ruffled neckline.

  “Hi. Can we talk?”

  The grim expression on her face made him wonder if he’d made a mistake. Maybe they weren’t even friends any longer.

  She shut the door behind him and motioned for him to follow her into the living room. He walked into a large, sunny room filled with lemon-colored walls and white wicker furniture with lavender and yellow cushions.

  “I didn’t expect to see you again,” she said and bent down, retrieving a couple empty glasses from the coffee table. “If this is about our conversation the other night—”

  “No, it’s not. I was wondering if you would give me a tour of Main Street. I’d like to get a feel for the businesses that are operating there and since you’re the spokesperson for the business league, I figured you’d be the best person to show me around.”

  “Why don’t you ask Shakara? She’s the president.”

  “Pete is probably talking to her right now. We thought if we were seen with the two of you, the shopkeepers would be more open to talking with us.”

  Her jade eyes filled with skepticism. “Is that the only reason you’re here?”

  The knowing look in her eyes revealed that he couldn’t hide the truth from her. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close, but instead let them fall to his sides. “I wanted to see you again, too.”

  “Shawn, we can’t—”

  “As friends, I mean.” He held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I need your help on this, Lisa. Say you’ll do it, please.”

  She sighed. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. My aunt had an appointment this morning so I can’t leave. One of us always has to be here.”

  “Will she be long?”

  “She had a few things to pick up on her way home, but said she should be back by noon.”

  He checked his sport watch. “It’s close to noon now. Mind if I wait?”

  “It’s up to you.” She gestured toward the sofa. “Have a seat while I fetch something to drink.”

  She disappeared into the kitchen, her bare feet padding softly on the tiled floor. He made himself comfortable on the sofa, taking in the cheery feel of the room. When she returned, he asked her how they came up with the name “Bella’s Enchanted B&B.”

  “Aunt Elsie named the B&B after her youngest daughter, Bella,” Lisa said as she handed him an ice-filled tumbler of Switchta. “She had always planned to turn it over to her daughter someday, but Bella decided island life was too boring and the demands of a small business too much work. She followed her three older siblings to the states, leaving Elsie to run the business by herself. That’s why Elsie made an offer to me. I said ‘yes,’ found a buyer for my townhouse and have been here ever since.” She set her glass on the wicker coffee table. “Would you like to see the house? The rooms are empty and clean. Check-in isn’t until three o’clock.”

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  She took him through the six bedrooms on the upper level, explaining how they had painted and decorated each room in a different color and had given each room the name of its color. The lower level had originally contained three bedrooms for private use, but after her children left home, Elsie had turned the third bedroom into a consignment gift shop to bring in extra income.

  Touring the house made him realize all that she and Elsie would lose if the business went bankrupt and it made him uneasy about the development at the Amaryllis. The shops needed to complement the downtown merchants to bring more people to the island to shop, not to compete.

  A bell jingled in a rear room of the house. “I’m back,” Elsie said, her voice echoing from the kitchen.

  “I’m in the living room, Auntie,” Lisa said and stood, collecting the empty glasses.

  Elsie came into the doorway of the living room holding a sack of groceries. The moment she saw Shawn, her eyes narrowed with distrust.

  “This is Shawn Wells, Auntie. The manager of the Amaryllis.”

  “I know who he is.

  Elsie and Shawn exchanged stifled greetings.

  “Shawn wants me to walk downtown with him and show him around. We’re going to meet with Shakara, too.”

  “Huh,” Elsie said and went into the kitchen. “Suit yourself.”

  Lisa excused herself to put on her sandals and grab her purse while Shawn waited by the door. Elsie came back into the living room with several wedges of pastry on a plate. Her sudden hospitality took him by surprise. “Have a slice of coconut tart, Mr. Wells. I make it fresh for breakfast every day. It’s my specialty.”

  The words sounded more like an order than a polite request, so Shawn thanked her and helped himself. The golden, doughy tart resembled a lattice-topped cake, but when he took a bite, the sweet flavor of coconut melted in his mouth. He wished they made this at the hotel.

  Lisa returned with her purse slung over her shoulder. “I’ll be back by three, Auntie.”

  They left the house and walked past a small island park and a few residential houses as they made their way toward Main Street. Once there, Shawn stared in dismay. He’d expected a quaint two-block area of colorful historic buildings. What he saw caused him to pause. Instead of a vibrant shopping mall rich with character and unique shops, he found a deserted street, weeds and rampant neglect. The facades of the buildings were faded, some crumbling. The sidewalks were cracked and uneven in places. The cobblestone street needed tearing up and repaving, reusing the same blocks to preserve the historic integrity. A couple of rusting old light posts stood forlornly on the street corners, but he couldn’t tell if they even operated any longer. A few tourists walked about, but carried very few purchases.

  No wonder these people are afraid of my development. They don’t need competition; they need resuscitation.

  Lisa must have sensed his shock. She clutched her purse and avoided looking him in the eyes. He let out a tense breath, completely at a loss as to what to say. He wanted to tell her something positive about his experience, but the words wouldn’t come.

  “The business league has been working with the island council to fund improvements to the downtown area for a year, but the council keeps delaying a decision,” she said suddenly. “It’s difficult for the shopkeepers, who have waited patiently for so long, to see your development getting so much attention.”

  Across the street, a battered door opened to a small store on the corner and Pete appeared. He waved them over to Shakara’s shop.

  Pete stood behind the counter with his arm around Shakara as they entered into her place. The postage stamp-sized room held several glass cases filled with stunning pieces of handcrafted jewelry made from semi-precious stones and local shells. The woman had amazing talent, but very little business. It made Shawn sad to see such exceptional artistic skills going to waste.

  Shakara didn’t seem fazed by it. She smiled and flirted with Pete, seemingly without a care in the world. The hem of her green and white flowered halter dress brushed her ankles as she spun around for Pete. “Does my boongie look good in this dress?”

  Pete’s eyes twinkled as a wide grin curved his lips. He looked down at her round derrière. “Honey, your boongie looks good in everything.”

  She burst into a sexy laugh. “Smart bey. I just might keep you ‘round for a while.”

  Pete slid his arm around her waist, pulling her close. Obviously, things had progressed between them faster than Pete had let on.

  Shawn opened the door. “Shall we go?”

  Lisa and Shakara described each of the shops they passed by as the four strolled down the street, two by two. They came upon a small barbershop and spoke with the elderly barber, an
islander with graying hair and stooped shoulders. The faded pole with red and blue stripes in front of his establishment didn’t spin anymore, its rusted casing proof it had hung on the storefront for decades. Farther along, they talked to the owners of a beauty shop, a small clothing shop and several specialty gift shops, including an interesting little shop called Island Antiques.

  At the corner, Shawn looked across the street and saw a tall, three-storied structure that appeared abandoned. The shutters had been closed on all of the windows. “This looks interesting.” He pointed to it as they stepped off the curb and headed toward it.

  “That’s the Morganville Hotel,” Shakara said. “What’s left of it, anyway.”

  “It closed down about ten years ago,” Lisa added.

  The faded “flamingo” pink building with white trim had rusting balconies on the second and third floors supported by several large columns. The barely discernable words MORGANVILLE HOTEL 1861 were etched in the façade between the top floors. Shawn walked toward the hotel, wondering what it looked like on the inside. “I wish we could see the rest of it.” He stood in front of the building and stared at the upper floors.

  “Then go inside.” Shakara began to laugh. “This is Enchanted Island, bey. Nobody locks their doors here.”

  Intrigued by the prospect of checking out the interior, Shawn walked up to the entrance and tried the front door. It opened. He stepped inside and held the door, encouraging Lisa to follow him. Once his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he found a large lobby area with a grand staircase that led to the second level. Something small and furry scurried across the wooden floor and disappeared into a crack in the wall.

  The boards creaked under Shawn’s feet as he walked across the room, gazing at the large crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, now dulled by a thick layer of dust and old cobwebs. Though it had fallen into hard times, this hotel had been truly grand back in its heyday.

  Outside, Pete and Shakara opened the shutters so light could come through the main windows. Shawn and Lisa spent the next half-hour looking through all of the rooms, opening closet doors and visualizing what the place must have looked like before it closed down. Back downstairs, Shawn walked out the back door to find a stone courtyard with a fountain and flower beds, now overgrown with weeds and bougainvillea.

  This property has so much potential, he thought wistfully as he went back inside. I’d love the challenge of restoring it back to the splendor it once held. I’d like to see the entire downtown restored, too. This place holds so much charm.

  A familiar pang of anxiety plagued his soul and he realized he couldn’t work for his father any longer. Sadly, he’d known for a long time he had lost the joy in performing his duties, but he’d kept on doing them anyway. He hadn’t wanted to come to this island. Now he saw the good it had done for him. Getting away from everyone had given him a new perspective.

  When this job is finished, so am I.

  He couldn’t wait to get back to the states and into business for himself.

  Chapter Six

  “I promise to be home by midnight, and I’ll only have one drink. I’m not going to buss up,” Lisa said, using Shakara’s Bahamian slang for “get drunk.”

  The lines in Elsie’s brow deepened with concern. “I worry about you going down to Nigel’s. That place has had too many police calls.” She shook her head. “It’s the tourists staying at the resorts causing all the trouble—getting drunk and starting fights. You be careful. Call me when you’re leaving and make sure Nigel finds someone to escort you and your friends to your cars. I don’t want you girls walking alone through the parking lot after dark.”

  “I will, Auntie. Don’t worry.”

  Lisa took the keys and headed out to the car. Elsie didn’t know she’d been communicating with a total stranger by email and had planned to meet him there. She thought Lisa had coordinated a “girl’s night out” with a few people to meet at Nigel’s.

  I’m over thirty and I can’t tell my aunt the real story about what I’m doing.

  Why couldn’t she be honest with Elsie? The truth didn’t make any sense!

  “Is this absolutely the most totally brainless stunt I have ever pulled or what? I should have my head examined.” She tossed her wristlet onto the passenger seat, worrying about meeting City Boy. He could be a rapist or a serial killer for all she knew. The thought produced goose bumps on her arms. Maybe she shouldn’t go after all...

  Wait a minute. This is Enchanted Island, not West Palm Beach. Stop with the scary thoughts.

  First of all, she knew Nigel personally and had known him most of her life. He ran a reputable establishment and didn’t tolerate troublemakers—which were usually tourists. Second, she had no intention of leaving with “City Boy” and going somewhere alone with him. Third, if he tried anything inappropriate and she resisted, the locals would step in. The most likely scenario, however, would be that she’d meet up with a nice guy and have a good time.

  With that thought in mind, she slid in, shoved the key into the ignition and drove out of the driveway.

  Elsie had mentioned seeing a clip on the nightly news about a tropical storm brewing. If it stayed on its current path, it would hit the island by the weekend. She breathed a sigh of relief, glad she didn’t have to worry about that tonight.

  At Nigel’s, Lisa stood at the door and scanned the full room, looking for a man in a red shirt. She noticed a group of islanders wearing “rasta tams” over their dreads—crocheted hats with red, green, black and yellow stripes—congregating around a large table in the corner, eating conch chowder and warm Johnny Cake with butter. The aroma hovered in the bar, making her hungry for the chowder, Nigel’s signature menu item.

  She waved to Nigel behind the rectangular bar. His dark skin glistened under the lights, his graying hair, shorn close to his head, matched his salt and pepper beard. He patted a spot on the bar, signaling he wanted her to take the empty chair. She smiled and sat down, tucking the skirt of her long dress underneath her. She’d worn an ankle-length dress tonight in royal blue with cap sleeves and a round neckline. Shakara had crafted a new jewelry set for her, a heart-shaped pendant made from Larimar on a long sterling silver chain with matching teardrop earrings. The sky-blue gemstone marbled with white contrasted beautifully against the dark fabric of her dress. She’d left her long hair flowing and made a headband out of the red ribbon.

  Nigel smiled, revealing a new gold tooth in the front of his mouth. “Ha it go, gyal? Whatcha drinkin’?”

  “Hi, Nigel. I’ll take a Coke for now. I’m meeting someone here.”

  “A Coke?” He laughed. “Muddasik dred! You can’t ha no fun tha way.” He set a wine glass in front of her and filled it with Jamaican Red Label wine. “First one is on da house.”

  She thanked him and sipped it appreciatively. Perhaps she needed a little wine to settle her nerves. Uncertainty had set in again and worrisome imaginings were getting the best of her.

  What if this guy is merely trolling for some hot babe to hop into bed with him?

  She shuddered and stared into her wine glass, once again getting second thoughts about this “blind date.”

  She glanced up and saw a handsome man with short blond hair sitting at the bar wearing a red shirt printed with gold palm fronds. Could he be the one? He looked to be the right age, but she didn’t recognize him. If he’d lived on the island for a while, she would have surely seen him somewhere.

  He smiled at her. She smiled back. He picked up his drink and walked over, sliding onto the seat of the empty barstool next to her.

  “Well, hello there,” he said in a deep, sexy drawl.

  “Hello, City Boy,” she replied, hoping he understood. If not... “I’m Island Girl.”

  “You can call me Darren.” His brows rose in amusement, his smile widening. “So, you’re Island Girl, huh? What’s your real name, or don’t you give it out when you’re working a place like this?”

  What?

  Okay, so
maybe this guy wasn’t the right one. Maybe the red shirt was just an unfortunate coincidence…

  She clutched her wine glass, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. “Are you meeting someone here at eight o’clock?”

  “Yeah,” Darren said and leaned toward her, sliding his hand across the small of her back. “I’ve been waiting all night to meet someone like you.”

  Irritated by his boldness, she pulled his hand away. “Please, don’t do that.”

  “Geez, you’re pretty uptight for a girl who came here looking to get picked up.”

  “Look, I’m not uptight and I didn’t come here to get picked up. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

  She grabbed her purse and slid off the barstool. “Thanks for the wine,” she said to Nigel. He tried to pour her another glass, but she placed her hand over the top of it and shook her head. “I’m leaving.” As soon as she got home she planned to delete every email from City Boy and block him, too!

  “You’re leaving?” Darren stretched out his arm to block her way. “Why, do you want to go somewhere more romantic? All right, let’s go.” He slid off his barstool and chugged his drink.

  She pushed her chair aside and sidestepped him. “Didn’t you hear me the first time? I’m leaving, but not with you. Goodbye.”

  “Ah, come on.” He tried to put his arm around her, but she pushed him away. “Look, we’ll go to my suite and I’ll order Champagne. Strawberries. Chocolate. Whatever it takes, okay?” Obviously, he’d done this sort of thing before. He’d deciphered her refusal as an act to get him to offer her more.

  “Stop it.” She backed away, ready to shove him if he tried to touch her again. “Get away from me. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Nigel watching, his bushy brows dipping with concern. He pulled his phone from under the bar and dialed 911.