His Kind of Perfect (Sugar Bay #1) (9 page)

The shrieks of children laughing filled the
air. The sight of them as they frolicked in the water fountain almost made Claire
smile. Almost. There had been a time when she would have laughed out loud at
the antics. But that had been a very long time ago. As it stood now, she was aware
she frightened most people.

The youngsters’ parents hovered nearby,
they watched over their progeny, directed energetic antics so no one would get
hurt. Their happy faces were filled with pride and so like a snapshot from
another period of time.

A knot filled Claire’s stomach. There
wasn’t a day that went by she didn’t think about Henry and their life together.

The young mother sat, basking in familial
love, secure in the arms of her husband, seemingly oblivious to the capriciousness
of life. In an instant it could change and Claire wondered if the girl truly appreciated
the moment.

Claire wanted to scream a warning. Attachment
led to hell, to a never-ending pain that was paralyzing.

Distance was a better choice, a safe
choice.

She felt her breathing escalate. It sounded
choppy, irregular. The doctor said it was anxiety so Claire fiddled with her
bracelet and concentrated on her breathing. Slow. Steady. She hated these weak
moments, which had come more frequently of late, ever since her episode earlier
this year.

She fingered the charm Anabelle had given
her for Mother’s Day two years ago. The silver Eiffel tower charm sparkled in
the sun and she smiled. Anabelle was a good girl. Sweet. Quiet. Unassuming. Claire
was proud of her and if Anabelle had a bruised quality to her, it was mostly Claire’s
fault. Her and that bastard Anabelle had married.

But it was mainly her fault. She hadn’t
given the girl enough affection so she’d been an easy target. After Henry’s
death Claire had retracted into her own world and hadn’t been capable of
showing love, she’d gone into autopilot to cope with the stress of life as a
single parent without a college education nor a decent life insurance policy.
She’d lived in survival mode for so long her little girl thought she didn’t
care. After a while it had been easier to go on as she’d been rather than
change.

But the mild heart attack earlier this year
had forced her to reflect, that and Lorraine’s strong-arm tactics of dragging
her on this European holiday where she had nothing but time to think. Today
Claire had begged off from another excursion. She knew her sister and
brother-in-law meant well but she needed space.

No two sisters could be more different.
Where Lorraine didn’t know a stranger, her happy outgoing personality made
friends easily, Claire preferred quiet solitude with occasional bouts of
socialization but only if it served a purpose. The Ladies League was her outlet,
her way to make an impact. If people saw her as controlling, she was okay with
it.

Anabelle was almost forty and Claire was
worried about her only child. Worried she wouldn’t find someone to share her
life. What if the damage Claire had done was irreparable? The disaster with Gavin
had been a terrible blow and if Anabelle had been on the quiet side before, the
last few years the girl seemed to disappear into herself. Despite stating she
was happy, Claire knew things
weren’t
as they seemed. Anabelle
was content, not happy. The design studio kept Anabelle busy but was no
substitute for a family.

Claire wasn’t certain how she’d be as a
grandmother especially since she hadn’t been the most loving mother, but she didn’t
want Anabelle to miss out on motherhood. If ever there was a girl that was
destined to be a mom, it was Anabelle.

So the girl needed to get going. Celebrities
thought nothing of starting families well into their forties, but that was
Hollywood where they had nannies to run after the little monsters when they
were wound up like demented energizer bunnies on crack. Prime baby making years
were slipping past Anabelle. Until pretty soon it would be too late. And before
long Anabelle would bombard Facebook with photos of her sixteen cats like Claire’s
friend, Louise’s spinster daughter.

Claire shuddered.

That kind of life wasn’t for Anabelle. Claire
didn’t believe in happily ever after. The whole thing was a hoax. The intense
euphoria and the heart wrenching despair, it was too much.

Twenty-five years later and the ache hadn’t
disappeared. It wasn’t as sharp, but it was still there. She didn’t want that
for her daughter. As horrible of a mother she’d been, she would at least
protect her daughter from feeling like her inside were being shredded. Anabelle
would be saved from the stress of how to support your little girl or deliver
Christmas or pay for braces. Anabelle was independent and could support herself
and any child she had. If Anabelle used her head instead of her heart, she
could marry for companionship and escape the roller coaster love created. She
could have a life different from Claires.

Thankfully Claire had always been creative
so she’d gone to night school and gotten her certificate in design. The years
had been kind and she’d survived but she wanted more for Anabelle. So far,
Anabelle had achieved all that Claire had wanted for her only child.

The cell phone vibrated, alerting her to a
new text message. What Claire read made her eyes narrow in annoyance. Eugenia Kurland,
a busybody from the league, was out of her mind. No way would Anabelle be
playing tonsil hockey in a bar with a younger man. She texted back, her fingers
moved as fast as a mild case of arthritis allowed.

A flash of white caught her eye and she
looked over. An older gentleman sat at the next table. The smile he sent was so
familiar, she started and glanced around, certain he hadn’t directed his smile
at her. His smile widened as if he found her actions amusing.

Jerk.

She glared. Really, because the guy had a
full head of hair, he shouldn’t think of himself as an Adonis. She’d been
warned about the men like him on the prowl. They targeted widows looking for
romance, eager to seduce the life savings away from a gullible…read, lonely
female.

She turned her back to him. Who had the
time for that nonsense?

She liked her savings just where they were.
A vibration signaled Eugenia’s answering text. Was Anabelle out of her mind? Claire
had the perfect guy for Anabelle, nice, steady job,
an
orthopedic surgeon nonetheless, and most importantly he was straight. Ethan was
her hairdresser’s doctor and Lillibut swore he had the strongest, warmest
hands. The way Lillibut went on, Claire figured she’d had an orgasm each time
he rubbed her feet. That had to mean a lot to a girl on her feet for hours on
end. Besides, everyone knew a guy with good strong hands knew his way around a
woman’s pleasure spots. And heaven knew Anabelle deserved a sensual bed partner
after being initiated by a gay husband.

Ethan was kind to the ladies of the red hat
society and he didn’t have crazy hobbies like racing or jumping out of planes
like so many idiots nowadays. A decided bonus as far as Claire was concerned. A
dead husband was good for no one.

Claire wanted stability for Anabelle. The girl
needed to stop pining for Mr. Perfect. There was no such thing. Ethan MacGeorge
was Mr.
Practically
Perfect and
Presently
Unattached which
to Claire’s thinking was
perfect enough.

“Excuse me…is anyone sitting here?”

“Are you kidding me?”

Mr. Casanova of the high seas looked
surprised at her snappy response. He stood waiting for an invitation. The jerk
had a lot of nerve or he was incapable of reading social cues.

“Did you not understand ‘Keep away’ vibes?”

“Hello, I’m Tomas.” She could see he planned
on ignoring her warning. “And you are?”

She glared but he waited, no visible
irritation evident. It was like he was some Zen master. She sighed, hated that Southern
women’s code of conduct that wouldn’t allow flat out rudeness. Maybe he would
go away quickly if she spoke to him.

“Claire.” She didn’t elaborate. Usually the
men brave enough to approach were terrified by this point and often made
excuses and vanished. It was freeing to speak one’s mind without a filter but
most men couldn’t handle it and it was a bonus in getting older. People didn’t
call you out on it. She grinned, wondering how long before he ran off.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Claire.” His
smile was very, very white, sort of like a toothpaste advertisement.

“I just bet it is.”

“Come again?”

“Let me speed this up for you. You’re not
getting your hands on my life savings. I’m not lonely for company. I’m on a
mission and it doesn’t involve you. If you go away, I could accomplish more.”

She sat back and waited for him to scurry
away but he didn’t. He smiled and settled back in his chair, signaling a waiter
for a new drink. He looked ready to stay awhile. That never happened.

What a strange man.

The cauldron overflowed with enough
chocolate to give a chocoholic a stomachache. Anabelle shook the last of the
fun sized pieces out of the bag and surveyed their Halloween display in front
of Charlie’s bakery. Since Charlie was on Main Street while Anabelle was on a
side street, they’d decided to pool their resources for an awesome display for
Charlie’s storefront for Sugar Bay’s Annual Halloween Street Party. Kids and
adults from Sugar Bay and the surrounding communities flocked to the event. To
be caught without enough supplies would be sacrilegious. She didn’t want to
imagine the pitiful faces she’d encounter.

Businesses along Main Street and the
roundabout were decked in Halloween gear. Only foot traffic was permitted and swags
of orange and white lights spilled from and in between any available vertical
posts. Witches, goblins and ghouls hung from suspended wires and banners blew
in the fall breeze. Sugar Bay specialized in Halloween and planned for it yearlong.
Melrose, a couple of communities over, showcased Christmas, but here in Sugar
Bay, Halloween was king. Kids and adults loved it. Pirates, princesses and the
occasional super hero roamed the street on the hunt for sugary delights.

“So? How was it?”

“How was what?” Anabelle adjusted her
bodice. “
Charlie,
is this too much cleavage.”

“No such thing as too much cleavage,
sweetie. And don’t evade the question.”

She delayed as long as she could, fussing
with the display and arranging the candy so the labels faced forward. When she
was satisfied, she looked up and was greeted by Charlie’s fierce frown.

“Spill.”

Anabelle sighed. “The good news is he has a
lovely British accent.”

“Ooh, yummy, I do love a sexy accent. Go
on.”

“The bad news…no sparks.”

“What?” Charlie’s shriek made Anabelle
cover her ears. “How is that possible?”

Anabelle shrugged. “Who knows?”

“Details, woman, details. He was perfect on
paper.” Charlie seemed to take it as a personal affront since she’d narrowed
down the choices.

“Nothing happened. We had dinner. He got
called away. I ran into Derek. We went to a bar and played pool.”

“Wait, what? Say that last bit again.” She
winced at the sting of Charlie’s nails as they dug into Anabelle’s arm.

“I played pool?”

“Not that part, smart ass. The part before
that.”

“I ran into Derek.”

“Yes, you sneaky girl. Expand on that bit.”
Charlie pulled up a chair, seemingly prepared to provide expert analysis.

“We played a game of pool, had a few
drinks, he followed me home…and he might have kissed me good night.”

A loud shriek accompanied frantic bouncing and
Anabelle laughed at her friend’s antics.

“I cannot freaking believe it. How was it? Was
it everything you dreamed it would be? Is he yummy? Oh…I cannot believe you
didn’t call me last night.”

Anabelle grinned.

“You sly bitch. What are you holding back?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I may have plans with him for tomorrow.”

Another shriek had passersby giving them a
wide berth.

“Jeez, Charlie.” A little princess and a
pint sized superman looked scared. They clung to their mom and refused to come
closer. “It’s okay princess, this witch swallowed a toad by accident and had to
clear her throat. She’s fine now so come and get some candy.”

“Yes, come and get some candy dearie.”
Charlie crooned and beckoned in a creepy voice with her bony finger extensions,
completing her wicked witch’s costume. The little ones remained where they were.

“Cut it out, Charlie.”

“What? What did I do?”

Anabelle lifted her eyebrow. Between the bony
fingers, the disgusting faux wart at the end of Charlie’s nose and the yellow
snaggleteeth she’d bought, the beautiful essence of Charlie was completely
hidden.

“Can’t a girl have some fun?”

“If you scare off the customers, we’ll
never unload the candy and we’ll each gain twenty pounds eating leftovers.”

Charlie grimaced, spit out the ugly teeth
and pulled off the hairy wart. “Come on sweetheart. Pick a couple for you and
your little brother.”

“Good one, Charlie.”

A tall Frankenstein with a ripped shirt
showcasing drool worthy abs gave them a familiar grin.

“Derek?”

Frankenstein nodded and a small scientist bounced
next to him. “Uncle Derek, Uncle Derek, you’re supposed to stay in character!”

“Hold on Alex, let me say hi to my friends
first. Anabelle, Charlie…
meet
my nieces. The mad
scientist is Alex, flower child is Janie and the princess is Esme.

“Hi…I’m batgirl!” announced the cutest
princess ever. She wore black and white striped tights under a fluffy black tutu,
a batgirl emblem was centered on her black leotard and a blue and silver
sparkly tiara was perched on her head. Completing the ensemble was a sparkly cape
and blue gloves. She posed with her hands on her hips, braced and ready for
action.

Anabelle promptly lost her heart.

“Hi Batgirl. Want some candy.”

“Love some, thank you very much.” She
reached in the cauldron to grab some before she remembered to look over at her
uncle. “Is it okay to take candy from strangers, Uncle Derek?”

“Anabelle’s my friend so it’s okay
sweetheart.”

Esme beamed and grabbed a Kit Kat.

Flower girl was more reserved and thanked
her quietly.

The mad scientist took a moment to study
the choices, she seemed to weigh the pros and cons of each before she could
commit.

“It’s okay, Alex. You can take more than
one if you’d like.”

The mad scientist beamed and grabbed a
Twix, Kit Kat and an Almond Joy. Problem solved.

“Hey, no fair.” Batgirl shoved her big
sister out of the way and grabbed more as well.

“Girls!” An exasperated Frankenstein
pointed to the curb. “Sit there for a minute and you can eat one piece of
candy.”

“Yay!” The girls chorused and rushed to obey.

“They’re very sweet, Derek.”

“Yeah. They are, aren’t they? Chip off the
block.”

She grinned. “Nice makeup job, Frankenstein.
Spectacular job on the stitches there.

“Thank you,” hollered the mad scientist
with a mouth full of chocolate, clearly eavesdropping. “I did that!”

“Good job Alex.”

“What do you think of our costumes?”
Charlie asked with a diabolical grin.

He took in Charlie’s wicked witch costume in
a quick glance and smiled before turning his attention to Anabelle’s little red
riding hood costume. He took his time scanning her head to toe. Her body burned
as he tracked her red and white stockings, deep red swinging velvet skirt before
pausing for an indecent amount of time at her bodice where the damn corset
Charlie forced her to wear threatened to upend her breast out of its
confinement. His grin was slow and decidedly wolf like. “Very nice.”

Charlie laughed, completely delighted while
Anabelle turned a shade that almost matched her dress.

“Come on girls. Uncle Derek is hungry.” He
turned back to Anabelle and tapped her lips. “See you tomorrow, Anabelle. Don’t
be late.” He ducked close and whispered in her ear, “You can bring the costume too,
if you’d like.” With a wink, Frankenstein disappeared into the crowd with his
girls while Charlie cackled. No doubt she’d utilized her eavesdropping skills
like the wicked witch she was.