Mr. Unforgettable (16 page)

Liz took her seat beside Delores and scanned her notes, trying to focus. The old lady ignored her but, since changing her stance, Liz was getting used to disapproval. Unfortunately Snowy had also become rabid in his opposition.

When Liz had tackled him about the camp privately, he'd been blunt. “Given your lead in the polls, I needed a controversial issue to bring some parity into the race. It could have been anything, Liz, but by changing your stance on the camp so close to the election, you handed me this one on a plate.”

She hadn't repeated that conversation to Kirsty; their relationship was strained enough already. Liz turned into Snowy's PowerPoint presentation and frowned.

“If council approves Camp Corporate,” he said, “any Tom, Dick or developer will be able to push through foreshore projects because a precedent has been set.”

She raised a hand. “I'm sorry to interrupt but that's incorrect and Deputy Mayor Patterson knows it.” Ignoring Snowy, she looked to Jo. “May I clarify the situation?”

Receiving a nod of assent, Liz outlined the council regulations that would prevent rampant development and listed the exceptional conditions that made the charity unique.

Her gaze, calm and reassuring, swept across the crowd. “Contrary to what some of the Letters to the Editor in the
Beacon Bay Chronicle
have implied this week, I have no intention of jumping into bed with big business or allowing a string of high-rises to be built along the waterfront.”

Snowy gave a bark of laughter. “My God, what an apt analogy.”

“Excuse me?”

“I have some pertinent information on this topic that I'd like to present if I may, Madame Chair.”

Jo frowned. “You sound as if we're in a courtroom, Snowy.”

“And so we are—in the court of public opinion.” He nodded to the assistant running his PowerPoint presentation. “As you know,” he said, “we've had cameras installed outside council offices in an attempt to stop a graffiti problem.”

“A problem that began well before Camp Chance opened,” interrupted Liz, “so if you're trying to make a connection between the recent tagging and camp kids—”

She caught her breath on a gasp as a still came into focus on the screen, a gasp lost in a collective one from the crowd.

“Taken on the eve of the Mayoral Swim-Safe Challenge, this shot is from video footage too steamy to replay in full,” Snowy said. Liz stared at the picture of herself locked in Luke's embrace. Turning her head, she glimpsed amusement, embarrassment and disapproval in the crowd—but it was Kirsty's reaction she searched for.

Her stepdaughter was staring fixedly at the screen, her expression stricken.

Liz turned on Snowy. “How
dare
you violate my privacy like this. What possible justification could you have?”

“Public interest,” he shot back. “So, Mayor Light, the exceptional conditions you mentioned in relation to Camp Corporate…Is one of them the fact that you're sleeping with the developer?”

I
N THE HUSH
that followed Snowy's question, Luke stood up, clapping slowly. “Bravo. You really must join the amateur dramatics society, Snowy, when you fail to win the mayoralty. You've got a real talent.”

“Even so, he raises an excellent point,” said Jo Swann. “How long have you two been—”

Blushing to the roots of her hair, Liz cut her off. “I can assure you that my support of Camp Chance predates our personal relationship.”

Ignoring her interruption, Luke said smoothly, “Obviously facts will carry more weight than assurances. We're more than happy to answer any questions you have.” Telling the truth would remove any hint of illicitness from the scandal Snowy was intent on brewing. “We've been dating a few weeks.”

But wily bastard that he was, Snowy concentrated on Liz. “I'm not talking about your general endorsement of the camp, but your particular support of Camp Corporate. On Friday you told Delores Jackson you were against it, on Monday you'd changed your mind. How do you explain that?”

Again Luke answered. “Before you develop your conspiracy theory, Snowy, let's clarify a few facts, shall we? The late mayor endorsed Camp Chance and his successor has done the same. Liz Light has never been involved in planning meetings, a fact that can be independently verified. And her decision to support Camp Corporate simply means that she'll use her public profile to voice the interests of those who don't have a voice—the kids who'll benefit by the money it brings in.”

The whispers faded as people started to listen.

Jo frowned. “If everything is aboveboard, why did you hide your liaison?”

Luke looked at Liz. Only she could answer that one.

“In light of my late husband's profile…in light of my own…I wanted some part of my life to stay private.” But she knew—as Luke did not—that a lot of people in Beacon Bay were going to be disappointed in her. “I can only reiterate that my decision to support Camp Corporate had nothing to do with Luke Carter.”

Except, looking into Luke's gray eyes telegraphing his support, Liz realized that wasn't entirely true. If it weren't for him, she would never have reconciled with her past. Never challenged herself to step out from Harry's shadow.

Flustered, she looked at Kirsty, who read Liz's doubt and sprang to her feet. “Of course he's influenced you,” she accused. “Everybody knows Dad would never have permitted commercial activity on the foreshore. Admit it, Lizzy, you know that, too.”

She couldn't lie. “It's true that Harry wouldn't have supported—” The rest of her words were lost in the noise from the crowd. It seemed everyone had an opinion that needed expressing.

In the ensuing uproar, she watched Kirsty gather her things. Ignoring those trying to talk to her, Liz hurried off the stage.

Luke stopped her at the bottom of the stairs. “Go back and stand your ground. You can talk to Kirsty later.”

“Our affair has jeopardized everything I care about.”

“Why are you acting guilty? You know we've done nothing wrong.”

“You've done nothing wrong…I—”

She broke off as Kirsty marched past. “Stop! We need to talk.”

Ignoring her, Kirsty shoved through the double doors leading to the car park. “Wait here,” Liz said to Luke, and ran after her.

“All that talk of a conscience vote was a lie,” Kirsty said over her shoulder. “How could you, Lizzy? How could you betray Dad's memory, not just privately, but politically?”

“You're wrong, Kirsty. No one influenced my decision, not even your father. And my relationship with Luke was already over when I changed my mind.”

Kirsty stopped. “So it didn't mean anything?”

As she hesitated, her daughter-in-law's expression hardened.

Liz panicked. “No.”

“You know what?” Kirsty tore off her campaign button and threw it on the ground. “That only makes your disloyalty worse.”

“We'll talk when you've calmed down,” Liz called after her. Then she'd tell Kirsty everything—about her childhood, about her complicated feelings for Luke Carter.

With a sigh, Liz turned around and froze. Luke stood there. For a moment she saw her anguish reflected in his expression, then his eyes steeled to winter gray. “
Now
there's nothing more to say.” He turned on his heel.

Liz let him go. She'd betrayed him, she'd betrayed Harry and she'd ruined everything that was lovely in both relationships. She deserved to be alone.

Somehow she gathered the nerve to go back, but Jo had managed to restore order and move the meeting along. Delores had taken her turn at the podium and by her strident tone, intended holding the floor for a while.

Liz hesitated at the side of the stage and stared at her empty chair, brightly lit by floodlights. What was she going to say? Her emotions were in turmoil, her mind blank with shock.

As she stepped forward, Jo caught sight of her and left the stage, grabbing Liz by the arm and steering her back behind the curtain. “Not a good idea. Emotions are running high and too many people have seen your campaign manager quit.” Her tone was cool.

“I have to fix this,” said Liz. “For everybody.”

“Well, you've got guts, I'll give you that.” Jo let go of Liz's arm. “But if I were you, I'd regroup first. I think everyone was ready to give you the benefit of the doubt,” she added. “But by publicly admitting you're acting against their favorite mayor's wishes, then having his daughter question your ethics…I'm afraid you're screwed. You should have…” Her voice trailed off.

“Lied?” Liz smiled faintly. “Let's just enjoy the irony, shall we?”

For a long moment the two women stared at each other. “Don't give up,” Jo said. “We need people like you in local government.”

“I wouldn't give Snowy the satisfaction.” But it was empty bravado. He'd beaten her and he knew it. Across the stage their eyes met. Smiling, he mouthed, “It's not personal, it's politics.”

“You're right,” she said to Jo, fighting down her rage. “I won't make any headway tonight and I need to prepare. What's the hall's availability?”

Intrigued, Jo checked the schedule. “Thursday's the only night free.”

Two days before the election. Who the hell was she kidding? Liz lifted her chin. “I'll take it.”

 

“Y
OU GUYS SHOULD
be collecting your bags,” Luke called across Camp Chance's sports field. “The bus is nearly ready to leave.”

The cluster of kids conspiring at the tree line behind the goalpost broke apart. Five voices rose in a crescendo as each vied to be heard.

“We're chasing a bird—”

“It's a seagull, dummy.”

“His wing's tangled in netting but he won't let us catch him.”

Luke put his hands over his ears. “No wonder, with that racket. Haven't you ever heard of commando tactics?”

Immediately they quieted to a reverential hush, as round-eyed, they awaited instructions. He gestured them into a huddle around him. “The important thing about being a commando is working together to sneak up on your prey. Where's the bird?”

Moana gestured to the newly planted trees skirting the playing field.

“Okay, I need you to fan out behind the trees and flush it out onto the field. I'll take it from there. Mo, you stay in case I need your help.”

As they waited, Moana studied him, her dark eyes troubled. “You're sad.”

“You're all going home,” he said lightly. “I'll miss you.” The first camp had been a great success. He wondered how many more Triton could sustain.

“Nah, you won't. 'Specially not me.”

“I'll miss you the most.” He ruffled her hair. “So guess you had a good time after all, huh?”

Her thin shoulder lifted in an insouciant shrug. “It was all right. I'm coming back next year,” she added anxiously, in case she'd taken her cool too far.

Even if the camp was still here, he wouldn't be
. “I'm glad.” All the local support, so carefully built up over the previous weeks, had dried up in the wake of Tuesday's meeting. All because he'd committed the cardinal sin of getting romantically involved with Harry Light's widow. He'd jeopardized the camp's future for a woman who said their relationship had meant nothing. Sad didn't even begin to cover how he was feeling.

“I've come for that tour,” said Liz quietly behind them.

Moana's face lit up. “Hi, Liz!”

Luke didn't turn around. “Ask Rosie to take you. I'm rescuing a bird.”

“Can I help?”

“No.” Out of the corner of his eye Luke saw Moana staring at him and added reluctantly, “We're fine. Thanks.”

Behind him Liz murmured, “You're not making this easy.”

His anger reached flashpoint. He'd let down his guard, and she'd inflicted a terminal wound. The Band-Aid of an apology wasn't going to fix this. And she wanted it easy?

He turned and glared at her, ignoring the fact that she looked like hell. “Then how about we make this effortless and fast-forward to the goodbye?”

Liz winced but held her ground. The bird squawked onto the field, one wing raised, the other trailing behind. Luke pulled off his T-shirt and with two quick steps had the gull wrapped snugly.

Through the cloth he felt its thinness; it hadn't eaten for a while. “Hold him, Mo, while I check the wing.”

But Moana had retreated about twenty meters. Wordlessly Liz took the bird. It gave her hands a perfunctory peck before sinking its head into its shoulders, resigned.

“I came to camp because you won't answer my messages,” she said in a low voice. “That alone must tell you how desperate I am. Please, Luke, let me explain.”

“I'm bored with this subject, let's change it.” He peeled the cloth away from the seagull's body.

“Okay.” The pleading note had left her voice. “The night your divorce papers came through, you were talking about your swimming career. What were you going to say about your coach?”

He didn't flinch from the challenge. “He wasn't happy when I opted for early retirement and we grew apart.”

“But…” She stared at him. “Wasn't he also your foster dad?”

The kids arrived, clamoring to see, so they crouched down. Moana tugged his arm. “What's wrong with the bird?”

“His wing's caught in a piece of fishing net—just as you guys told me. There's a hook under the skin as well, that's why he hasn't pulled it off.”

Liz was so close, he could smell her vanilla perfume, mixed with her own subtle scent. With a deft twist, Luke removed the hook from the wing. The seagull blinked. “If you have to do something painful, make it quick.” Deliberately, he pinned Liz's gaze. “Don't draw things out.”

She swallowed.

Carefully, he started untangling the rest of the netting. “I hear Snowy's taken the lead.”

She didn't flinch, either. “It's not over until the last vote has been counted.” Even in his anger, Luke felt a flash of pride in her courage. “And there's still the meeting tonight,” she added, “to set the record straight.”

“I'll be there if that's what you're worried about. In public, we present a unified front.”

In a low voice she said, “You know that's not why I'm here.”

He concentrated on the task. “My fingers are too big to tease this knot out…any of you kids want to try?”

“Touch a bird? No way.”

“It might peck me.”

“What if he dumps on my hand? He's probably already done it in your T-shirt.”

Liz gave him the seagull. “I'll do it.” As she bent over the bird cupped in his hands, her hair trailed over his forearms in strands of blond silk. The kids edged closer again, their breath tickling Luke's bare shoulders as they strained to look.

There were memories in his life that Luke could evoke with all senses, and suddenly he knew this would be one of them. Crouching with the sun on his back, the new-mown grass fragrant in his nostrils, he closed his eyes, this moment so intensely tangled with life and inexplicable longing, it hurt. There was nowhere he would rather be right now than here with these kids and this woman saving an injured bird.

Liz stepped back. “Done.”

Luke set the bird on the ground and gently unwrapped it. The seagull staggered forward, flapped its wings to steady itself, orange feet skittering down the field. “Fly,” encouraged the children. “Fly! Fly!”

The gull stopped. “It needs to get used to the idea,” said Liz. “We can wait.”

Careless of her suit, she sat on the field, cross-legged; the kids followed her lead. They all looked expectantly toward the bird, and Luke felt a curious ache under his ribs. Their patience had so much faith. “And if it won't?” he murmured so only Liz could hear.