The Things I Do For You (21 page)

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Authors: Mary Carter

BOOK: The Things I Do For You
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“Some joint we own here,” Angel said.
Brad abruptly stood. “Everyone,” Brad said. “Please join me in a walk. Please.”
“We?” Bailey said. “Some joint
we
own here?”
“Angel’s right,” Sheila said. “All this negativity won’t be good for business.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Bailey said.
“I have to agree too,” Kimmy whispered. “We don’t want to make our guests feel uncomfortable.”
“We?” Bailey said. “Why are all of you saying ‘we’?”
“Seriously, people,” Brad said. “I need everyone on the committee outside right now.”
“She has a point,” Daniel said. “We’re in this for the long haul. We need to put the lighthouse ahead of our differences.”
Bailey felt a ripple of dread wash over her. Brad looked as if he had just been shot.
“Bailey,” Brad said. “There’s uh—something—”
Bailey screeched back from the table and stood. “We?” Bailey said again.
“Oh my God,” Kimmy said. “She doesn’t know.”
“Brad?” Bailey said. She was afraid to say more.
“Oh, honey,” Vera said. “It’s okay. We’re your family now. One big happy family.” She reached over as if to grab Bailey and crush her in a bear hug. After seeing the look on Bailey’s face, she shrank back. Bailey opened and closed, and opened and closed her mouth like a baby bird. There were just no words. She was even too numb to throw anything.
“Bailey,” Brad said. “I’d like you to meet the board.”
“The board,” Bailey repeated. It came out as an eerie whisper.
“Olivia’s Lighthouse Conservation Society,” Kimmy said in the loudest voice she’d used so far.
“We all own equal shares in the lighthouse,” Daniel said. “Except for Tree. He’s like you. The keeper’s companion.”
“No,” Bailey said. “Uh-uh. No.”
“Daniel was joking,” Brad said.
“Oh, thank God,” Bailey said. They got her good. She thought she was going to faint there for a minute.
“You’re not just a companion. You’re a partner too,” Brad explained.
“Yes,” Angel said. “And we’re your partners in crime!”
“Um. It’s not uh, legal, for individuals to run a lighthouse,” Brad said. He laughed nervously. “It has to be owned and run by a nonprofit conservancy group.”
“Otherwise the light has to be decommissioned,” Daniel said.
“And I couldn’t let that happen,” Brad said. “I had to save her—I mean him—you know?”
“No,” Bailey said. “I see your mouth moving. But I have no idea what you’re saying.” Maybe she had died too. Maybe they were all dead. Maybe it was like that Nicole Kidman movie where they were all dead only they didn’t know it. It was comforting. If she was already dead, she wouldn’t have to feel guilty about killing them all with her bare hands.
“Captain Jack was going to buy this place and shut down the light!” Brad was out of his seat again and talking fast, as if his mouth could outrun the trouble he was in.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Bailey said.
“Don’t worry,” Brad said. “You and I are officially the keepers. We can never be fired.”
“Fired,” Bailey said. She was afraid if she stopped repeating everything he said, she would self-destruct.
“We are the keepers of this lighthouse,” Brad said. “You and I.”
“And we’re the board,” Angel said. “Who owns it.” Everyone glared at Angel. She shrugged. “Like a Band-Aid,” she said. “Gotta rip it off.”
“It’s a technicality,” Brad said.
“A technicality,” Bailey said.
“Exactly,” Brad said.
“Exactly what?” Bailey said.
“We don’t technically own the lighthouse,” Brad said. “I mean, we own part of it. We share in the guardianship with the board. The board owns it. We, the board, are a nonprofit corporation whose mission is to preserve and run this lighthouse.” Bailey nodded. Bailey sat back down. Bailey resumed eating. Bailey did not dare look at anyone. “Bailey?” Brad said.
“Let’s go for a walk, Brad,” someone said.
“Don’t forget your shoes,” Bailey said once again. Brad stood a few minutes longer, staring at her. Then someone, Bailey didn’t know or care who, gently took Brad’s arm and led him out. One by one everyone left the table until Bailey was sitting alone with Jake. Not that she cared. She was too stunned to even fantasize. For a few minutes they ate in silence. Then Jake pushed his plate away and patted his stomach with a big smile.
“So,” he said. “What’s it like living in a lighthouse? Is it as much fun as you thought it would be?”
Chapter 20
Keeper’s Log
Brad Jordan
July
 
We have a dive-bombing bird patrolling the patio. She’s an aggressive blackbird, protecting her nest, which I’m assuming is in the large oak near the patio, but it’s so tall and thick with leaves that I’ve yet to be able to spot it. Guests are getting pretty freaked out. She will actually brush your shoulder or the back of your head with her body. She will only make contact when your back is turned, so in that way she’s a bit of a coward. Experts call it “mobbing.” Still, it’s unnerving. Once she headed straight for my eyes, and I stood stock-still. I couldn’t believe she was getting more aggressive, attacking face-to-face. I still didn’t move. At the last minute, she swerved, while sending out a warning cry. My heart was pounding in my chest—it was a bit like being in a 3-D movie, seeing her come at me like that. She’s incredibly fast. That’s the maternal instinct for you. It’s made it near impossible to have dinner or movie nights on the patio. We will just have to wait until the babies are born and have flown far, far away.
 
I’m worried sick about Bailey. Since learning the truth about the lighthouse, she’s taken to standing by the kitchen window, waiting for the bird to strike an unsuspecting guest, and recording it all on her iPhone. Then she posts it to the B&B’s Facebook page (Did I mention we have a Facebook page?!) with comments like, “Hilarious!” and “Check this out!”
 
Angel got the worst of it. The bird smacked into her head three times in a row. I suspect it has something to do with the shampoo she uses. When she stands close to me I always get a hint of strawberries. Angel said Bailey asked her to go out and wipe down the picnic tables. We had a good rain last night, and nobody had been near them since, so they certainly didn’t need wiping down. Angel screamed every time the bird slammed into her head, and Bailey uploaded the video to YouTube. I haven’t said anything to her. Lately it seems the only thing that makes her smile is recording the bird mobbing people. I’d sacrifice myself, stand there all day letting the thing tear me apart for her, but any time she sees me she puts the iPhone down and turns away. I’ve been sleeping on the couch in the main room. It’s not too bad except one of our guests likes to play a music box all night long. My guess is it’s Kimmy. I haven’t brought it up because I guess it soothes her to sleep.
 
I wish Bailey knew how sorry I was. I don’t know how to explain the feeling that came over me during the auction. I know it sounds ridiculous, to speak of a higher power. But at the time, I had to do it. I had to save this lighthouse. I felt as if someone’s life depended on it, maybe not my own, but—I don’t know. I felt as if the lighthouse deserved a voice. And I was that voice. That’s no excuse. I should have told Bailey the truth from the beginning. I’m no stranger to that concept, though, am I? Now would be the time to tell her every secret I’ve ever kept, and yet here I sit, silent, again. She’s still here. By some miracle, she’s still here. I’d give my life for her. I just wish she knew that whether I deserve it or not, I thank every star in the sky for her existence. I’d give anything to take away her pain, and I’ve never loved her more than I do right now.
 
In addition to recording unsuspecting members of the board getting whacked by their dive-bombing blackbird, Bailey was also doing a lot of reading. Fantasy books mostly, and the occasional biography of violent savages. Captain John Smith was a whaling pirate. He fell in love with Pocahontas. He beheaded three men. Now, there’s a man who would have ravaged Bailey on the deck and willingly planted his seed in her. Not that she wanted Brad’s seed at the moment. She didn’t know what she wanted. Aunt Faye advised Bailey to get a lawyer. For once, Brad’s charm had failed him. To Faye, lying about real estate was a crime for which there was no parole. Faye urged her to come back to New York, offered Bailey her old job back. Bailey hadn’t said yes, but she hadn’t said no. She just didn’t know. Jesse had been a bit more diplomatic. She suggested that maybe Bailey had been correct after all, maybe Brad had suffered some kind of head trauma. She urged Bailey to consider taking him in for tests before she made any “drastic” decisions.
Bailey didn’t tell her mother or her sister. Meg was still having some kind of problem with Thomas, but whenever Bailey pressed her for details she changed the subject. If her sister wasn’t going to open up to her, then Bailey wasn’t going to open up either. And telling her mother would mean that Brad would be in for a lifetime of resentment from Ellen Danvers. Nobody lied to her little girl. Her father would’ve probably been a bit more neutral, argued both sides like a litigator, then pronounced a verdict in favor of Bailey. The thought made her feel good, but she still didn’t tell them. She didn’t need more people in her head adding to the confusion. She even called Martin Gregors. He was surprisingly sympathetic toward her.
“It sounds as if he’s really betrayed you,” he said. At first, Bailey was thrilled to hear he was on her side.
“Exactly,” Bailey said. “I’m totally shocked.”
“Do you have a lawyer?”
“What?”
“It just doesn’t sound legal. He would have needed your approval to buy the lighthouse, no?”
“Not initially. He had cash from Olivia. But when I sold the condo, we sank the profits back into this place.” Bailey suddenly felt guilty for building this “case” against Brad.
“Definitely grounds for a lawsuit,” Gregors said.
“I don’t want to sue my husband, Dr. Gregors.” What she didn’t tell him was that there was no need to sue. Brad had already fallen on the sword, offered Bailey anything she wanted. He offered to try and convince the board to dissolve the conservancy. He said they could decommission the light and just run it as a private B&B. He offered to try and sell it and give her the money. He even offered to have himself declared temporarily insane to see if they could somehow get out of the contract. He was scrambling, not knowing if he could actually make good on any of his promises, but he was sincere in at least making the attempts. “I just want . . .” Bailey stopped talking. What did she want?
“What do you want?” he echoed.
“I don’t know.”
“Would you like to come to my office in Manhattan and talk about it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Look. You’ve had a shock. It’s normal to be indecisive.”
“I guess.”
“If you decide you’d like to start seeing me, my door is always open.” Bailey nodded even though he couldn’t see her and hung up without saying good-bye, hoping it would make her seem a little bit more decisive.
 
They were having another board meeting on the patio. It was a tricky place to eavesdrop without being seen. Of course she was “invited” to the meeting, she was after all on the board. But she didn’t want to attend any of their meetings. Besides, Bailey had received an e-mail for a paying reservation for the upcoming weekend. Paying reservations took precedence over freeloaders even if they were members of the board. If preserving the lighthouse was truly their aim, then nobody could argue that a paying guest took precedence over them. Bailey had at least made one decision. It was time for the board to hit the road. They could hold their meetings online.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Startled, Bailey turned from the window. Jake was standing just a few feet away from her.
“Hello,” Bailey said.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“Just peeking in on the group,” Bailey said. “See if they need anything.”
“I’m going to town,” Jake said. “I wondered if you’d like to join me?” Town. She needed things in town, didn’t she? They had plenty of groceries, so that was out. And they didn’t need furniture, or books, or—what else was in town?
It didn’t matter. It was what wasn’t in town that mattered. The people taking over her patio, sucking up all her energy, they weren’t in town.
“I’d love to go to town,” Bailey said. “I must go to town.” Jake’s smile seemed genuine.
“Hope you don’t mind sharing my Jet Ski,” he said. Was there a twinkle in his eye? Was she allowed to do this? Was she allowed to share a Jet Ski with another man?
“I could call Captain Jack,” Bailey said. After all, she had to at least appear to not want to get on his Jet Ski, didn’t she? Even though she could already feel herself pressed up against him.
“Great. You call the mighty captain and I’m going to hop in the shower. I’d really like to take you to dinner and I don’t want to be tossed out for smelling like the great outdoors.”
Dinner? Bailey thought. She didn’t know about dinner. But she didn’t say that, she just nodded again. Jake went off and Bailey glanced out the window. Brad was holding court, waving his hands as he spoke. When he finished everyone laughed. Bailey marched out to the patio, silently practicing her spiel on the way.
I’m going to town.
I’m going to town with Jake.
I’m going to town and Jake happens to be going to town.
Jake asked if I wanted to go town with him. On his Jet Ski. We’re going in the ferry instead. He wants to take me to dinner.
Jake asked if I wanted to go into town with him and since we’ll probably be there at dinnertime, he asked if I wanted to have a bite. He’s in the shower now so he doesn’t smell like the great outdoors.
As Bailey approached the patio she could hear Brad talking.
“Olivia was like a mother to me. I really hope she made it to the other side.”
“Maybe we can try contacting her.” It was Angel. Of course.
“Contacting her how?” Bailey said. The group stopped talking and stared at Bailey. “Like a séance?” Bailey said.
“Bails,” Brad said. He stood. “Are you going to join us?”
“No,” Bailey said. “I’m going to town with Jake. On his Jet Ski.”
“What?” Angel said. Bailey flicked her eyes over to Angel. She didn’t look happy. What? The woman wanted her husband and the handyman?
“I’d like to go to town with you,” Brad said.
“Jake asked first,” Bailey said. “I’m going into town with Jake,” she said. “On his Jet Ski.”
“Fine,” Brad said.
“Fine,” Bailey said.
“I hope his little Jet Ski is safe.”
“Oh no,” Bailey said. “There is nothing little about his Jet Ski.”
Brad clenched his fist, but put on a smile. “I want you to have a good time,” he said. “You’ve been working too hard.” Darn right she had. Dishes, floor, linens, uploading videos to Facebook.
“We’re probably going to grab dinner in town too,” Bailey said.
“Dinner?” Angel said. She sounded furious. What was her problem? Did she expect Bailey to hang around to make sure Angel got
her
dinner? This was a B&B, not a B&D.
“Enjoy,” Brad said through clenched teeth.
“Oh, I will,” Bailey said. They locked eyes, but it might as well have been horns.
Barcelona,
Bailey thought. She hadn’t seen his nostrils flare like that since Barcelona.
 
They were twenty-two and Spain was their playground. At the dance club hugging the ocean, Bailey wore the tiniest blue dress that showed off her cleavage and three-inch pumps that elongated her legs. She’d spent hours getting ready while Brad went to the Miró museum, and even though he said she shouldn’t have missed it, it was well worth it because she looked hot. Every Spanish man on the dance floor thought so too. She lost count of how many men she danced with, how many she kissed; even a boy in a wheelchair. Earlier in the day, Brad had kissed both cheeks of a beautiful girl who had done nothing more than give him the time and tell him his Spanish was good for an American.
“It’s Europe!” he said when she complained. “Kissing is like shaking hands.” If that were the case, Bailey was going to shake, lip-to-lip, every boy’s hand she could. And she did. By the end of the night, Brad was positively shaking with jealousy. He stormed up to her in the middle of one of these “shakes,” gently took her arm (although she suspected he wanted to pull it out of the socket), and pulled her to the side. Several men threw their voices up in protest. Bailey winked at them and was all smiles until she saw the look in Brad’s eyes. He was truly furious. Was he actually jealous? The realization sent a thrill through her body. Brad Jordan jealous of her! For the first time in their love-stalking relationship the power dynamic had seesawed in Bailey’s direction. She was going to enjoy every single second of it. There were a hundred beautiful, exotic, foreign girls around them, but Brad was only focused on her.
“Something wrong?” Bailey said.
“You!” Brad said. “And all the kissing.”
“It’s Europe,” Bailey said. “It’s like shaking hands.”
“I get it, okay,” Brad said. “You’re mad about the girl. But all I did was kiss her on the cheeks, Bailey. The cheeks. You’re locking lips with every Spaniard in sight!”
Bailey stood up straight, put her hands on her hips. “Admit that you liked that girl,” she said.
“No,” Brad said. “I won’t.”

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