Love Finds You in Martha's Vineyard (30 page)

“I don't know.” She shook her head in a dismal way, like she was seriously concerned her father would be the laughingstock of tonight's gala event, perhaps even be written up in Martha's Vineyard Worst Dressed column, if there was such a thing.

All the same, he now felt unsure. After all, Reggie obviously liked Waverly. What if he suspected that Blake liked her too? Would he try to sabotage Blake? No, that was ridiculous—not to mention juvenile. Yet he didn't want to offend Sicily by not taking her advice seriously.

“You could be right about that, Sicily,” he said slowly. “Unfortunately, this is as good as it gets with me, sweetie. I don't get dressed up much anymore. In fact, my city clothes are still packed and stored in the attic above the garage. After all, this is Martha's Vineyard, not LA or New York.” He held up his hands. “I guess this'll have to do.”

She shrugged. “And you do look nice, Dad. I'm just saying….”

He checked his watch. “And I'm saying we better get over there to pick up Janice.” He tried not to grimace at the sound of her name on his lips.

“You really don't like her much, do you?” Sicily got her backpack. “I mean, even though Janice is pretty, she's really not girlfriend material, right?”

“Janice is okay, but definitely not girlfriend material. Not for me anyway.” He closed and locked the door.

Sicily looked relieved. “Yeah, that's what I thought.”

“You know I only agreed to take her tonight to help Waverly.” He shook his head as he got into the car. “Although that seems a moot point now.”

“What's a moot point?”

“It's
moot
when something doesn't really matter anymore. Now that Janice has her wrecked car business figured out because insurance is covering everything, she shouldn't still be mad at Waverly. For that reason, it shouldn't really matter whether I take her to the party or not.”

“Oh, I don't know, Dad, I think it matters to Janice.”

“Maybe so.” He drove the short distance to their house, parking in the driveway right next to a small red convertible that, despite being produced by a cheaper manufacturer, looked strikingly similar to her Beamer, before the staircase flattened it.

“Are you still going to break up with her then?”

With a warning look, he nodded with his fingers to his lips. “But we'll keep that under wraps for now, okay?”

Inside the house, they were warmly greeted by Vivian. She looked much healthier in her colorful caftan than she had in the drab hospital gown. “Hello, my lovelies.” She hugged each of them.

“So you really are feeling okay?” Blake asked.

“Never felt better.” She smiled. “But thank you again for your help today, Blake.”

“Something smells delicious in here.” He glanced over to the kitchen, where Louise was stirring something on the stove.

“I'd invite you to stay for seafood pasta,” Louise called out, “but I think you have bigger fish to fry tonight.” She laughed at her joke.

“I don't know,” he called back. “If I had my choice, I'd rather stay here.”

“I think Janice is almost ready,” Vivian told Blake. “But if you'd like to sit out on the porch and wait, Louise has made us some delightful raspberry lemonade.”

“I told Dad he wasn't dressed up enough,” Sicily told Vivian in a conspiratorial tone.

Vivian laughed. “I think he looks perfect. After all, this is Martha's Vineyard. No one dresses up too much here.”

Sicily looked surprised. “That's exactly what Dad said.”

Louise joined them now. “So what are you two planning to do for the Fourth?” She set a tray of crackers and cheeses on the low table. “If you haven't made other plans, I'd love if you joined us for a little barbecue here.”

“I thought it would be fun to take Sicily to Edgartown for the parade and fireworks show,” Blake said. The truth was, he hadn't made any real plans yet, but the idea of spending the Fourth with Janice—after what he planned to tell her before the evening was over—was quite unsettling.

“But you'd still have time to come to our barbecue in between those events,” Louise urged him. “Unless you plan to spend the entire day at Edgartown. But it'll be crawling with tourists over there. Surely you'd like to come back here for a reprieve and some delicious food.”

“Why don't you let Blake think about it, dear?” Vivian said quietly. “Let him get back to you later.”

“Yes, of course. Just know that you're welcome. It'll be a small affair, only a dozen or so people.” Louise smiled as she refilled his glass. “I love to entertain. Vance and I used to throw the grandest Fourth of July parties back in Boston. I've missed that. Anyway, we've made a few friends here in Vineyard Haven, and I thought it would be fun to have a beach party.”

Blake refrained from checking his watch again but was about to ask whether or not Janice really intended to go to the party tonight, when she suddenly made her appearance. “Here I am,” she announced breezily. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Blake.”

“Don't you look gorgeous,” Vivian gushed.

“Thanks, Aunt Viv.” Janice did a little swirl turn for them.

“Isn't she glamorous?” Louise said. “That color is so dramatic, Janice. You'll be the belle of the ball, with all eyes on you!”

Blake stood. “You look very pretty, Janice.”

She smiled at him. “Really? You think so? Not too much, is it?”

No way was Blake going to answer that honestly. “You're mother is absolutely right,” he assured her. “That color is stunning, and everyone will probably be looking at you.”

Now Janice pouted. “But you certainly didn't dress up much, did you?”

“Sorry about that, but my formal wear is still packed.” He shrugged. “I guess you'll have to take me or leave me.”

She rolled her eyes slightly. “Guess I better take you. Speaking of that, shall we take my rental tonight? It's not as nice as the Beamer, but it makes more of an entrance than your SUV.”

He jingled his keys. “I think I'd rather drive my car, if you don't mind.” He nodded to Louise, Vivian, and Sicily. “Have a nice evening, ladies.”

As they walked out to the car, Blake noticed that she was struggling to keep her stiletto heels from sinking into the gravel. But he waited for her, opening the door like he always did—the way his dad had trained him to do when he was still a boy. As she got in, he had to admit that she did look rather stunning—in an Oscar's night, glitzy sort of way. Not his favorite look, but a lot of fashion-minded women seemed to enjoy it. Hopefully everyone wouldn't look like that tonight. If someone at the door handed him a tie, he might have to excuse himself and go home. After all, he'd agreed to take Janice to the party…not to bring her back home.

“Do you know where you're going?” she asked as he started the engine.

“I already programmed Martha.”

“Martha?”

He laughed. “Right before I came out here, I got my GPS installed, and the first destination I put into it was for Martha's Vineyard. So I named it Martha.”

She laughed too. “Okay, Martha, lead us on.”

Janice made pleasant small talk about her recent trip to Boston, car shopping, her most interesting legal case, as well as some political name dropping, which mostly went right past him. But he nodded and made the appropriate small talk responses back to her.

“I'm afraid we're going to be a little late,” he said. Although that was an exaggeration, since according to Martha, they were running ninety minutes late. And he remembered how Janice liked to be prompt and on time, or so she'd said before.

“Fashionably late,” she assured him.

Surprised at her nonchalance, he just nodded. Although he knew it wasn't good manners to be early or even on time to most parties, he also knew that an hour and a half was a little beyond fashionable too. Still, it wasn't like he'd wanted to come tonight anyway. For all he cared, they could be three hours late. Except that he wanted to see Waverly. If only briefly. Although he'd do whatever he could, within the confines of good manners, to be sure it was more than that.

“Looks like this is it,” he said as he turned into the long driveway of what looked like a very impressive estate.

“Valet parking,” she pointed out. “Too bad we didn't bring my car.”

He didn't respond to that as he pulled up under the portico, got out, handed the valet his keys, then went around to open the door for Janice. “Here we are,” he said in a stiff voice. As he walked her toward the stately house, he felt certain that both Sicily and Janice were right—he was underdressed. He gave their names to the security guard in front, saying they were friends of Reggie Martin, and for a moment, as the guy searched his list, Blake wondered if they were even going to get in. He actually hoped they wouldn't.

“Have a nice evening,” the security guy told them as he nodded to the doorman to let them in.

“I hope we're not too late,” he muttered as he and Janice went into the elegant home. Marble floors, oriental carpets, sculptures, art—everything suggested money, old money. He couldn't help but notice that Janice, in her formal cocktail dress, appeared to fit in perfectly with the décor.

Then, to his relief, he observed a few other guests milling about inside the house, and they were dressed very similar to him. Blake continued on through the foyer and into a large room, where he pointed to a wall of enormous glass doors that completely opened to the outdoor living area beyond. Out there some happy calypso music was playing. Colorful outdoor lights reflected over the satin surface of a sapphire-blue pool, and white-clothed tables were filled with food. Guests dressed a lot like Blake mingled and talked.

“Looks like we found it,” he said as he led her outside to where the party was in full swing.

“Am I overdressed?” she hissed in his ear.

He shrugged. “Not for the red carpet.”

She shot a dark look his way.

He was about to make his way to the food, since he was quite hungry, when an attractive brunette walked toward him. He could tell by her expression she recognized him, and although she was familiar, he couldn't quite place her.

“Blake Erickson!” She came close and air-kissed him. “Fancy meeting you here in my old stomping grounds.”

Suddenly he remembered she was a fairly new but up-and-coming actress in one of the films he worked on last year. A supporting role with Scarlett Johansson in the lead. Stella Something.

“Stella,” he said, still trying to recall her last name, “so great to see you. You look lovelier than ever.” He introduced her to Janice.

“What are you working on?” Stella asked him. “Anything exciting?”

So he explained his early retirement plan.

“You're kidding?” she said. “You
live
here full-time?”

He nodded. “I'm still a Vineyard newbie, but so far so good. In fact, I'm enjoying it immensely.”

She turned to Janice. “And you live here too?”

Janice laughed. “No. I wouldn't survive long here. More than a couple of weeks in this place and I might go into a coma. Really, I'm a city girl at heart.”

Stella glanced at Janice's dress. “Yes, I can see that.” She turned back to Blake now, telling him about a new project she would be starting in the fall. “I wish you were working on it. You're the best.”

“Thanks, but for now I'm enjoying this slower pace.”

“How do you know Belinda?” Stella asked. “Did you do a film with her?”

“I haven't met Belinda. A friend of hers invited us here tonight. Do you know Reggie Martin?”

“Oh, I've known Reggie for years.” Stella lowered her voice. “Isn't this house spectacular? It's been in Belinda's family for years. We used to spend summers here as kids. I still love coming out here with her for a few weeks.” She pointed to a pretty blond coming their way. “Speak of the devil.” Then Stella introduced them to their hostess, Belinda Vale.

“Sorry to be so late,” Blake told Belinda. “Looks like a great party.”

Belinda waved her hand. “Oh, that's okay. Although I think the lobster's pretty picked over now. But there are plenty of other goodies.” She peered curiously at them, particularly at Janice, who stood out like a sore thumb in her bright red sparkly dress. Blake suspected that Belinda, too polite to say it, was trying to place who they were and why they were here.

“Reggie invited Blake,” Stella explained.

“Oh, that's great. Reggie's friends are my friends.” Belinda grinned at Blake. “I meet more new Vineyard people through dear old Reggie.”

“Blake has another connection to you too,” Stella told her. “He's a retired filmographer.” She even listed some of Blake's projects. “But can you believe he left Hollywood for Martha's Vineyard?”

Belinda nodded in a way that suggested she understood. “Someday I'll be here permanently too.”

“Not me,” Janice said curtly. “This little island is far too claustrophobic for my taste.”

“And what do you do?” Belinda politely asked her.

Janice explained she was a Boston attorney. “But I'm also in the senate race this year. You may have heard of my father, the late Vance Grant?”

Belinda looked slightly surprised. “That was your father?”

“Yes.” Janice nodded with pride. “I hope to follow in his political footsteps. As my campaign says, it's time for a change.”

“Oh, well, good luck to you with that. Personally, I try to avoid political discussions, but I'll warn you that some of my guests are…uh, let's just say
not so neutral.”

“Yes, I'm well aware that many of my opponents think of Martha's Vineyard as their haven.” Janice laughed. “Is that why they call it Vineyard Haven?”

“I don't know about that. I think it has more to do with the harbor and boats—you know, a safe haven.” Belinda made a polite smile. “Now if you'll excuse me.” But before she left, she glanced curiously at Blake, as if she wondered about his connections with Janice Grant. As if he didn't question them himself.