The Chesapeake Diaries Series (72 page)

Figuring he’d already sounded about as lame as a man could possibly sound, he topped it off with, “I guess I’ll see you.”

Anything else he might have said would have been cut off anyway, so he just left it at that.

He was neutering a borzoi when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. There was no way he was going to get to the call, so he simply let it go to voice mail. Of course, he suspected it might have been Dallas, and of course, as luck would have it, it was.

“Just to let you know I got your message,” he heard her say when he played it back. “I … ah, I’m sorry I missed your call.” Pause. “I’d love to grab lunch tomorrow. I’ll stop at the clinic for you at noon, unless I hear from you with other plans.” Pause. “Tell Paige I said good luck tonight.” Another pause. “I … ah, I like to look at you, too.”

He played the message back three times, smiling through each recitation, before returning her call.

“Damn, I hate voice mail,” he grumbled as he was forced to leave another message. “Dallas, noon tomorrow would be great. I’ll see you then.”

He pocketed the phone, and went back to work.

He couldn’t decide if it was easier, or harder, this time around. On the one hand, the expectations were different, or at the very least, he tried to convince himself that they were. Actually, what he wanted to do was to convince himself that he had no expectations of her or of their relationship, but he’d heard a little voice inside singing,
Liar, liar, pants on fire
, every time he repeated the phrase “no expectations.” The truth was that this time, he wanted it all. He wanted her to love him again, he wanted them to be so happy together that the past would no longer matter, and he wanted her to stay in St. Dennis and live happily ever after with him. Just thinking about it
being a possibility made him happy … until he remembered that the odds of any of this happening were pretty damned slim, which of course meant it really wasn’t a possibility after all.

She’s having lunch with me tomorrow and that’s a start
, he told himself. After reflecting, he corrected himself.
Last night was the start. This phase
—date me, fall in love with me again—
this is phase two
. The solution seemed pretty simple once he’d broken it down. He just had to keep Dallas in St. Dennis for as long as possible, and spend as much time with her as he could. That was his only shot at winning her back, and he was going for it. He knew there was risk involved—knew exactly what he was risking—but he couldn’t dwell on that. Once he acknowledged that there
was
a risk, he banned himself from thinking about it. Why confuse the present situation with facts?

He tried compartmentalizing her, but it didn’t work. However hard he might focus on other things—his daughter, his patients, the dogs in the shelter who needed homes—sooner or later, his thoughts went back to her. How she’d looked when she came into the shelter the night before, what a good sport she’d been helping with the dogs, how the night had progressed so unexpectedly. How she’d looked sleeping next to him. How he couldn’t stop looking, which accounted for the fact that he’d gotten no sleep at all the night before.

His daughter had gone for the jugular when she called that morning.

“So, Dad, did you get lucky?”

“Paige, that’s an entirely inappropriate—”

Paige had giggled. “Aunt Steffie just said you were going to say that.” Paige had lowered her voice and mimicked his indignant tone. “ ‘Paige, that’s an entirely inappropriate—’ ”

“Paige, I don’t think you’re funny. We’re going to have a talk about this. Now put your aunt on the phone.” Grant was not amused.

“Yes?” Stef took the phone from Paige.

“I know you think it’s funny, but she’s only eleven years old, Stef. I don’t appreciate you encouraging her.”

“I didn’t encourage her. That was all hers. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t remind you that she’s not a baby. She’s almost twelve. She knows a lot more than I knew at her age. She understands—”

“She’d better not.”

He heard gulls screaming in the background, a sure sign that Steffie had walked outside.

“So, did you?” she asked.

“None of your business.”

“That means yes. Good for you. I’m going back to work now. Toodles.”

The worst part of it was that Grant knew that his sister was probably right. Kids knew so much more now than they did when he was growing up, and they say that girls grow up faster than boys. He tried to remember what he was like at her age, how much he knew. Throw into the mix the fact that Paige was pretty damned precocious, and he shuddered.

“It’s all that stuff on TV,” he muttered as he went into his office. “Krista lets her watch anything she wants. MTV. All those movies. The reality shows. The music they listen to. The language. Anything goes.”

“So, Dr. Fuddy Duddy, you ready for your next patient?” Mimi stuck her head into the office.

“Do I sound like a—”

“Yep. Cocker spaniel with thorns in his paw, exam room one.” Mimi disappeared, and Grant put his phone on vibrate once again before going into the exam room.

“Just wait until you have kids,” he called after her.

“We’re off to the dedication of the new children’s library wing this morning,” Berry reminded Dallas on Thursday morning after they’d finished their tai chi. “Would you like to join us?”

“What time does it begin?” Dallas slipped her feet into her flip-flops, which she’d left at the end of the dock.

“It starts at eleven, but we need to leave at ten. Cody signed up to bring refreshments.”

“What are you taking?”

They walked to the house, taking a detour past Berry’s flower garden.

“I ordered some of those chocolate-dipped strawberries from the sweetshop in town.” Berry stopped to deadhead one of her lilies.

“That’s a pretty sophisticated snack for a bunch of little kids,” Dallas noted.

“Really? Well, it’s never too early.” Berry dismissed the comment. “Logan said he’s bringing cupcakes, so I suppose all will be well.”

“I’ll bet Brooke made them.” Dallas thought aloud. “She said she’d like to have a business making cupcakes someday.”

“Really? And here all the talk is about her becoming a vet’s assistant or some such thing.”

“Not true. Got it straight from the source, so the next time you hear that rumor, you may feel free to put an arrow through its heart.”

“Will do.” Berry linked her arm through Dallas’s. “And I’ll be sure to check out those cupcakes.”

“I’ll stop over at the library later,” Dallas told her. “I need to get gas in the car.” She paused. “And I’m having lunch with Grant today. I’m picking him up at noon.”

Berry appeared pleased, as Dallas had known she would be, though she kept her thoughts to herself.

After Berry and Cody left the house, Dallas showered, dressed, and headed to the lone gas station on the outskirts of town. It was strictly pump your own, and when she finished filling the tank, she grabbed a wet wipe from a stand next to the pump to wash the smell of gas from her hands.

Nice they thought of that
, she was thinking as she walked to the trash can near the office door to toss the used towelette. Inside, opposite the glass door, newspaper boxes were lined up against the wall. First in line was a tabloid that, Dallas could see even from the other side of the door, bore her photograph dead center. She couldn’t read the headline, but wanted to see what she might have done that would have been considered newsworthy by someone. She opened the door, and stepped inside.

DALLAS MACGREGOR’S SECRET LOVER! BETRAYED ACTRESS SEEKS CONSOLATION WITH HER FIRST LOVE! RETREATS TO CHILDHOOD HOME AS DIVORCE FROM DISGRACED DIRECTOR BECOMES FINAL!

The headlines screamed across her face in bold type. She leaned closer to get a better look. In the center photo, she was on her way out of Scoop, one hand behind her closing the door, the other hand holding a cup of ice cream. She wore a light-colored tank dress and sunglasses, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and realized it had been taken earlier in the week. But it was the photo next to it that held her attention. She and Grant stood on the dock behind Berry’s house, their arms around each other, their gaze on something near the river.

The boat, she recalled. The photo had apparently been taken from the boat that had slowed the night she and Grant had been on the dock. What night had that been? Friday? She recalled that Grant thought he might have known the owner. As much as she hated to do it, she bought the paper and stuck it in her bag, obscuring the smaller headline
WHO IS DALLAS’S MYSTERY LOVER?

“Really? It says that?” Grant opened the paper after Dallas handed it to him a few hours later. He stared at the picture. “Damn. They didn’t get my good side.”

“Grant …”

“Sorry. I know. Intrusive. This would have been Friday night, right?”

“I’m thinking that boat that went by …”

“And slowed down, yeah.” He nodded. “That must have been it.”

“You thought you might know the person who owned it,” she reminded him.

“Yes, but I don’t. His son was in yesterday with one of their cats. He said his father didn’t sell the boat
after all. Backed out of the deal at the last minute. But remember, there are several marinas up river, so the boat could have come from one of those. Or maybe it was someone who came into the river hoping they’d get lucky—which they did.”

“That means that someone told someone else that the first house off the Bay is Berry’s.” Dallas frowned. So much for anonymity.

“Well, at least they didn’t catch us doing anything kinky,” he noted.

“True enough.” She tossed the paper into the nearest trash can. “So where would you like to go for lunch?”

“Are you sure you want to be seen in public with me?” He paused dramatically. “ ‘Dallas Dines on Sushi with New Guy.’ ”

“I hate sushi.”

“So do I. Let’s splurge and go to Lola’s. Celebrate having been publicly outed.” He took her hand. “And we’ll walk, if it’s okay with you.”

“It’s fine.”

“So, are you upset?” he asked as they walked down the long drive.

“About the paper? I don’t know. On the one hand, I’m surprised. I was feeling so anonymous here. But on the other, I’m not. People have been snapping pictures with their cameras and cell phones for the past few weeks. I’m thinking that maybe the picture of me coming out of Scoop—nice publicity for Stef—could have been taken by a tourist who decided to sell it. The sale might have drawn the pro back to St. Dennis. But I’m not embarrassed to have people know
that we’re seeing each other.” They stopped at the curb to let a car pass. “Or that we saw each other.”

That sounded awkward.

“I liked ‘seeing each other’ better,” Grant said.

“Me, too.”

They walked to the corner of Cherry Street and crossed.

“So where are you with the movie you want to make?” he asked as they strolled along.

“Nowhere, right now. My lawyer is taking meetings this week and hopefully there will be some interest.”

“If not? Not trying to be negative, but I believe in contingencies.”

“So do I. If I have to, I’ll find a way to put the money together myself.”

He looked at her hand, where red ink in the shape of a dog had been stamped.

“Tattoo?” he asked.

“They were stamping hands at the new children’s library this morning. I got the dog. Berry got the Cheshire cat.”

“That seems apropos, somehow,” he noted.

Dallas grinned. “Cody got a Wild Thing.”

Grant’s eyebrows rose.

“From the book.
Where the Wild Things Are
. It’s a classic, and one of his favorites.” They crossed Charles Street at the light. “Mine, too.”

“I remember that one. The kid in the boat who sails off and lands on an island where there are monsters—”

“Wild things,” she corrected him.

“Right. And they made him king, right?”

Dallas nodded. “King of the Wild Things.”

“Paige liked that one a lot, too. I’ll bet she still has her copy somewhere.” He added, “Somewhere at her mother’s house.”

Dallas stepped aside while Grant opened the door to Lola’s Café.

“Dr. Grant, we’re filled,” the host told him. “We’ve been jammed for the past hour.” He lowered his voice and added, “It’s all these people who’ve come to town for the Discover Days. Bunch came in a day or two early. But I can probably fit you in at the bar.”

“That’s fine with me,” Dallas told him.

They’d been seated for ten minutes when Dallas felt a touch on her arm. She turned and found Grace Sinclair at her elbow.

“I thought I saw you come in. My, but business is really booming, isn’t it? I’d stopped at Captain Walt’s but there was an hour wait for a table. Can you imagine?” Grace was clearly pleased. “We’ll have a lot of happy folks in St. Dennis when this weekend is over and they tally up their receipts.”

“It’s good for business, that’s for sure,” Grant agreed.

“Now, I’m expecting both of you at the cocktail party tonight,” Grace told them.

“It’s on my calendar,” Grant said.

“What cocktail party?” Dallas asked.

“The big shindig we have every year to kick off the big weekend. It’s a fund-raiser that benefits the community—this year the money will go to the new children’s park—and we announce the name of the parade grand marshal.” Grace patted Dallas on the back. “You’ll want to be there.”

“Berry hasn’t mentioned it,” Dallas said.

“You be sure to remind her, then. It’s important that she’s there.”

“I’ll remind her. Do we need to buy the tickets in advance?” Dallas asked.

“Berry’s already purchased several. I’m counting on you to get her there.”

“I’ll do my best,” Dallas promised.

“And be early, if possible,” Grace added.

“If it’s a cocktail party, I suppose children aren’t included.”

“Strictly adults, Dallas,” Grace replied.

“I’ll have to find a sitter for Cody,” Dallas noted after Grace had gone on her way.

“Paige will probably be available. Want me to call her now to ask?”

Dallas nodded. “That would be great. I don’t know anyone else to ask.”