That Thing You Do (Whispering Bay Romance Book 1) (Volume 1) (5 page)

“I know. Tom told me. But I’m not sure I can find a way to reach him before nine
in the morning, in which case—”

“Steve Pappas,” Mimi interrupted again, “just so happens to be married to Kitty Burke. You remember Kitty, don’t you? She’s a realtor here in town and her grandmother was very big into the Gray Flamingos. ”

“She’s in your Bunco group, too, right?”

“Yep.” Mimi folded the paper and handed it back to her. “First thing in the morning I’ll call Kitty
and ask her to ask Steve to postpone the demolition. At least for a day or so.”

For the first time tonight, Allie began to feel hopeful. “You think she’ll do it?”

“Of course she’ll do it. What I can’t promise is that Steve will be able to hold off on that building, but if Kitty asks him, I just don’t see how one more day can make a difference.”

“And I won’t have to deal with
Tom Donalan again.” Allie stood and gave her a hug. “You’re the best sister-in-law in the world. You know that?”

“Of course I know that.” Mimi eyes softened. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“I was just here a few months ago.”

“Exactly. Way too long as far as I’m concerned. Do you ever think about moving back? Zeke and the kids would love it. And of course, I’d be over the moon.”

 There was a wistful tone to Mimi’s voice that made Allie pause. In the past Mimi had hinted about Allie coming back to Whispering Bay, but she’d never been so blatant about it.

Allie chose her words carefully. “It isn’t that I wouldn’t like to move back here, but there’s really not much for me in the way of work. You know?”

“But you’re still freelancing, right? Couldn’t you do
that from anywhere?”

Yes, but she didn’t want to tell Mimi that. “I guess Tampa has me a little spoiled. Small town living just isn’t my thing anymore. Plus, if I do a good enough job with this haunted building story, maybe Emma can expedite a permanent job at the magazine for me.”

Mimi’s shoulders slumped. “Life Goal Number Three.”

“I promise, I’ll try to come home more often,”
Allie said. And she meant it. So what if Tom Donalan (and his DNA) were running around town? It wasn’t as if they’d ever have to cross paths again. At least, not after this thing with the senior center was resolved.

After Mimi went to bed, Allie tried to sleep, but she was too pumped up, so she pulled out her laptop and began an email to Emma at
Florida
! magazine.

Mimi had gotten it
right. Allie’s Life Goal Number Three was all about stability. But it wasn’t just about any job. It was about working in an environment in which Allie could grow her journalistic career. Allie freelanced for several periodicals, but
Florida!
magazine was far and beyond her number one choice for a permanent position. It was an award-winning upscale monthly journal that celebrated the beauty of
the Florida lifestyle (the magazine’s tagline). But the real attraction for Allie was
Florida!’s
editor, Emma Frazier. No one got Allie’s writing like Emma did. 

Times being what they were, however, the magazine had been in a hiring freeze for the past year. According to Emma, Allie was number one on the list to be hired whenever a full-time position opened, so for now, she was biding her
time, writing the best stories she could find. Which would include this ghost story (if someone stubborn wasn’t standing in her way).

She sent Emma a brief recap of the night’s events, including her plan to try to stop the demolition. Despite the late hour, Emma immediately responded.

Good work. Keep me in the loop.

They emailed back and forth for a few more minutes, then Allie
slipped under the covers and turned off the lights. She was exhausted and strangely exhilarated at the same time. Not to mention, just a bit conflicted. The exhilaration came from being on the brink of getting her story. The confliction? That wasn’t too hard to figure out. A ghost story was fluff. Not that there was anything wrong with writing fluff, especially if it had Emma’s seal of approval,
but it reminded Allie too much of her Perky the Duck story.

Despite almost seven years of writing stories that dealt with environmental concerns and women’s issues, it was that dang duck story that anyone ever remembered.

Ironically, it had started out as an anti-hunting piece, controversial enough for a magazine like
Florida!
whose reading demographics included a heavily southern
male population. But somehow, the story had evolved into something lighter. And it was that something that had captured the attention of Emma Frazier, as well as hundreds of other readers who had taken the time to email Allie telling her just how much they loved her article.

 So while she was certainly grateful to Perky, she didn’t envision herself writing that type of story for the rest
of her career. It was like accidentally tripping over a rock and discovering that everyone thought it was the best thing since sliced bread, and now wanted you to continue finding rocks to trip over when what you really wanted was to scale mountains.                                   

The trick was to somehow turn this “haunted” house thing into a credible story that would sell magazines
and
keep her journalistic integrity intact. She sighed and burrowed further under the covers. She’d need her sleep to deal with whatever happened tomorrow.

Would Tom be upset that she’d gone over his head? Probably. But that wasn’t her problem. After all, he was the one who suggested (rather sarcastically) that she go to Steve Pappas in the first place, so she was just taking his advice.
The fact that she was going through his wife would hopefully work in Allie’s favor.

And if Allie was being honest, there was a tiny part of her that would love to see the look on Tom’s face when he found out his precious schedule was being turned over in favor of her story.

A
llie felt the bed
vibrate. Was that an earthquake? Impossible. This was Florida. Hurricanes, yes. Earthquakes,
no
. She opened her eyes to see her niece staring down at her.

“Wake up, Aunt Allie. Mom says she’s supposed to take you to get your car this morning.” Claire sprang off the mattress with all the enthusiasm that only a sixteen-year-old could muster. “Are you staying till Friday?
Because if you are then you can go to the football game and watch me cheer. I’m co-captain this year.”

Allie blinked away the sleep in her eyes. Dear God. Her last visit had been Fourth of July weekend. Only three months and Claire had grown at least two inches. And there were now
boobs
. Claire Bear had boobs!

“Who is this evil Victoria’s Secret model interrupting my beauty sleep?”

Claire glanced down at her chest with a mixture of awe and pride. “I know! It’s like they just grew overnight!”

“
Definitely
a gift from your mother’s side,” Allie muttered. She took a longer look at her niece. Claire wore a tank top and a tiny denim skirt that was way too short for anyone other than a toddler. But then, Claire Bear was still a little girl. At least, she was in Allie’s
mind. She’d given her niece the nickname Claire Bear after Allie had babysat her one weekend and Claire had insisted on watching her
Monsters, Inc
. DVD non-stop.

Allie got out of bed and shuffled her way to the bathroom but the door was locked.

“Cameron’s in there. The little shit takes all morning to get ready. I think he has a GIRLFRIEND,” Claire said loud enough for Cameron to hear
through the door.

“Little stinker,” Allie said, automatically correcting Claire’s use of profanity. Buela had drilled it into Allie that young ladies of good breeding simply did not use four letter words (despite the fact that an occasional
caramba
had been heard from Buela’s lips). So Allie had come up with appropriate alternatives, like
Captain Crunch
.

She’d seen the look of amusement
on Tom’s face when she’d uttered the expression last night. Maybe he thought she was weird. Or maybe he’d remembered her using it before. Whatever. It didn’t matter to her what Tom Donalan thought.

Mimi appeared in the hallway looking like a general ready to lead the troops into battle. She pointed to Claire’s little denim skirt. “You’re not wearing that outfit to school.”

“But there
isn’t time to change.”

“Then make time.”

“You don’t think this skirt is too short, do you, Aunt Allie?” Claire looked at Allie like she was Obi-Wan Kenobi and the fate of the galaxy rested on her shoulders.

She hated to play the adult card, but in this case, Allie had to agree with Mimi. “Kiddo, I haven’t had my coffee yet, so, er, please, just listen to your mom.”

“Fine!”
Claire stomped off to her bedroom.

Yikes. It looked like Claire Bear had gotten hormones along with those boobs. This new parent-teenage dynamic hadn’t been in play three months ago. Did things really change that quickly? Allie now understood why Mimi’s hair was beginning to gray.

Mimi handed Allie a mug of steaming hot coffee, which Allie gratefully took. “Claire’s right about the
bathroom. You’ll never get in there. Feel free to use mine. But you only have about five minutes.”

Allie took a big swig of the java and moaned in ecstasy.

“It’s almost seven-thirty,” Mimi continued. “And we have lots to do. We need to drop the kids off school, swing by The Bistro, pick up Kitty, and then head to the senior center to get your car.”

“You forgot establish world
peace.” Allie took another sip of the coffee. “
Wait
. You already talked to Kitty?”

“Yeah, and she talked to Steve. Unfortunately, Steve says that although it’s his company, this is Tom Donalan’s project and he’s the guy in charge. Says he was really lucky to get a guy with Tom’s experience to come work for him, so he’s not going to undermine him on this. Which means the only person who can
stop this demolition is Tom himself.”

 “
Flippity Flop
.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Mimi said. “Sorry.”

“Thanks anyway for trying.” Allie finished her coffee, but it didn’t taste nearly as good as it had a few seconds ago.

She’d known the thing with Steve Pappas wasn’t a done deal, but she’d thought there was a good chance he’d stop the demolition. At least for a day. Especially
since it had been his wife making the request on her behalf. Begrudgingly, she had to admire that Steve had enough respect for Tom to not interfere with his business decisions. She just wasn’t sure if that made Steve a good boss or Tom a really valuable employee.

“Did you say Kitty’s meeting us at The Bistro?”

“She’s going to drive out with us to the senior center to help move your
car. Since you can’t drive it yourself.”

That last part hadn’t been said with any rancor, but Allie still cringed at the reminder that her license was suspended. She mentally put that on her list of things to care of today. Right after she emailed Emma to let her know the ghost story probably wasn’t going to pan out.

Allie searched her mind for some way around this demolition thing,
but she came up blank. Maybe the story could still be salvaged, but she’d have to be satisfied with interviews and second hand accounts (if she could find anyone who’d actually seen this ghost, of course). Because there was no way she was going to debase herself and ask Tom Donalan for yet a third time to help her out.
Nope
. Not happening. She’d rather swallow nails.

She quickly got dressed
and out to the garage to find Mimi and the kids waiting for her. How had she overslept this morning of all important mornings? She couldn’t believe how much Mimi had accomplished, and it was only seven-thirty. The army had nothing over motherhood.

Claire was now wearing a pair of extremely tight jeans but it was still better than the little skirt. Thank God Cameron was still the same pudgy
cutie pie with the freckles and wire rimmed glasses he was a few months ago. He was wearing braces now, but it was the only thing different about him.

Allie ruffled the top of his curly head.

“Why are you here?” he asked her.

Claire punched her brother in the shoulder. “That’s so rude, you little dweeb. Aunt Allie doesn’t need a reason to come visit.”

“Did you see that?
Mom! She hit me.”

“Oh my God. I barely touched you!”

Mimi seemed completely unfazed by their screeching. “Do you want to drive to school or not?” she asked Claire.

Claire instantly appeared contrite. “Yes, please.” 

Mimi handed her the keys. “Then behave.”

Allie climbed into the minivan’s back seat. “Claire’s driving?”

“I just got my license last week,” Claire
said proudly.

Allie mentally winced at the irony that was her life. Her niece, who just yesterday (it seemed) was wearing pigtails and watching
Sesame Street
could legally drive and had better boobs than her.

Coffee
. She needed more coffee.

Mimi strapped herself in the front passenger seat and watched Claire with an eagle eye as she went through the ritual of readjusting the
car’s mirrors.

Cameron turned to face Allie. “Is Dad gonna throw you in jail?”

Mimi smiled apologetically. “He wanted to know why your car wasn’t here so I, um, explained your situation.”

Allie grinned at her nephew. “Yeah, I’m in trouble, big guy. Think I can throw myself on my brother’s mercy?”

Cameron thought this over a second. “Did you ever call him a dweeb when you
were growing up?”

Claire eyed Cameron through the rearview mirror. “Shut up or I’ll make you sit in front with me.”

Cameron’s face visibly paled.

“That’s enough,” Mimi warned.

Claire backed out of the driveway and they took off down the road. Allie gripped the door knob to keep from getting jostled in her seat. She now understood Cameron’s reaction to Claire’s threat. But
everyone had been a novice driver at one point, right? Claire just needed more practice.

Cameron yakked all the way to his middle school, which was only a five minute drive.  Allie leaned over and forced him to kiss her goodbye on the cheek, but she didn’t have to push too hard. Apparently, eleven was still a sweet age for pre-adolescent boys. She caught a whiff of freshly brushed teeth,
Clearasil and…Old Spice cologne. Claire was right. Cameron had a girlfriend. Scratch the pre-adolescent part. Why was everyone in such a hurry to grow up?

Claire drove on to the high school and parked (rather badly) into a space in the second row of the student section. Allie hadn’t been back to Whispering Bay High in ages. There were kids everywhere in the parking lot, rushing to get to
class before the first bell. The hair was different and the clothes were definitely different (had Allie ever dressed this hoochie in high school?), but the rest was the same. Bright young faces and pimply chins and lots of laughter and rough-housing.

A vision of Tom and her eating lunch while sitting on the hood of his red Crown Victoria popped into her head. It was the way they’d spent
almost every lunch period their senior year.

Claire waved goodbye and disappeared among a gaggle of giggling girls, shaking Allie out of her reverie.

“Okay, first stop, The Bistro,” Mimi said, back in control of the wheel.