Part 8 (1/2)
Ed chuckled. ”Nick's tough to pin down sometimes. Say, when are you coming over for another round of golf?”
”When my game's in better shape,” Matt said, trying to sound jovial. ”I can't take the humiliation.”
”Come over anyway. You can play from the women's tees.”
”Thanks a whole h.e.l.l of a lot. Listen, I have to run. I'll check with Nick and make sure he gets back to you.”
”Fine. See ya.”
”Right.” Matt hung up the phone and stood staring at it while he tried to think what he was going to say to Annabelle.
She beat him to it. ”They didn't ever get there, did they?”
He looked up. Her eyes shone huge and bright in a face gone deathly pale.
”I'm sure they're there,” he said.
”But-”
”For some reason he didn't go to the meeting, that's all.” He didn't want to discuss the reason unless she was sharp enough to pick up on it.
”Call the Maui airport.”
He ran a hand over his face. And the day had started out so well, too. ”Look, I don't think that's necessary.” He could also imagine why Genevieve hadn't called. Nick had been keeping her too busy.
”Then I will.” She was on her feet before he knew it and reaching for his desk phone.
”The plane flight isn't the problem, d.a.m.n it!”
She hesitated, her hand hovering over the phone, and stared at him.
He sighed. Might as well get it out in the open. ”The reason you haven't heard from your daughter is that Nick flew them to Maui, checked them in to a hotel room, and . . . well, you should be able to figure out the rest.”
”Tarnation! Do you think I have feathers for brains? I know good and well she went over there to have s.e.x with that rooster!”
His jaw dropped. The cultured tone was gone, and in its place was something right out of The Dukes of Hazzard.
”I know perfectly well what that scalawag was up to, him and his fancy little black car,” she barreled on. ”But no matter what they've been doing all morning, she would have figured out some way to call me.”
What little patience he had left evaporated. ”For G.o.d's sake, wake up and smell the coffee! Your daughter, devoted though she may be, is not going to call you in the middle of a pa.s.sionate rendezvous with a guy like Nick! Maybe things are different where you come from, but in this day and age, girls don't call their mothers during such events!” And if he was a little more outspoken than usual, it might be because he'd been uncomfortably reminded of what Celeste's mother would have thought of his own behavior last night.
”I'm wasting time.” She turned and started out of the office. ”I'll use somebody else's phone to call the Maui airport. They should be able to tell me if the Rainbow Systems plane landed there this morning or not.”
”Annabelle, wait.” Remorse hit him as he hurried after her and caught her arm before she reached the door. How could he relate to what a mother might feel at times like this? He didn't even have a father's insight. d.a.m.n, but Annabelle's skin was soft. ”If I call the airport and the plane landed, will you let it go?”
She turned, her gaze stormy. ”Yes.”
”I know this doesn't look good, that Nick would behave this way, and I'll handle that situation when they get back.”
She faced him, shaking off his grip as she did so. ”Genevieve is a grown woman. Her s.e.xual decisions are her own now. I didn't like your partner when I met him this morning, but if Genevicve has to have him, that's up to her. I'm the last person who should preach to her about her choices in men. But planes scare the stuffing out of me, and I need to know she's safe.”
He felt like the worst heel in the world. Most everybody had something they were afraid of. He got kind of loony about snakes. With some people it was heights, with others it was spiders. Annabelle happened to be spooked by planes. No matter what was going on between Genevieve and Nick, Genevieve should have called, knowing how her mother felt.
”I'll call right now,” he said quietly.
”Thank you.”
Walking back to the desk, he picked up the phone again and asked Kendra to get him the Maui airport. Once he'd found out that the plane was on the ground, he could try to make amends to Annabelle by taking her to lunch. She might turn him down, but he'd ask.
If she turned him down, he could always send her flowers. Or maybe he'd take her to lunch anil send her flowers. He was intrigued by Annabelle Terrence, who had obviously not grown up in Hawaii, or even Middle America. She might try to give that impression, but stress brought out her roots. Maybe over lunch he'd find out more about her.
Only one tiny detail prevented him from proceeding with that plan. The folks at the airport said that the Rainbow Systems plane was not there.
Jack was a fast-food kind of guy. Fruits and veggies were okay once in a while, but this guava tree that Gen seemed so excited about didn't do much for him. Maybe if he'd had a knife to cut them in half they'd have looked more appetizing, but they were kind of mangled by the time he'd used a rock to get them open and they looked sort of like puke. He made his way through a couple of the things, because at least they gave him some liquid and he was getting thirsty.
They'd found a spot in the shade where a ledge of lava rock hung slightly over the beach. Gen had taken off the jacket to her dress and was sitting cross-legged on that, and he'd done the same with his s.h.i.+rt.
She looked d.a.m.ned good without her jacket, and watching her suck on those guavas was an experience in itself.
Then there was the matter of the way she was sitting. She had her skirt tucked modestly around her, but still, her thighs were spread, and his imagination was running overtime considering what lay between them. All in all, he didn't regret this experience, a.s.suming they were rescued in a few hours.
”What I wouldn't give for a comb,” Gen said as she tossed another guava rind out into the waves.
”What I wouldn't give for a McDonald's.” Jack threw his rind and was gratified that it went a little farther out than hers. She had a darned good throwing arm for a woman. Normally he didn't care about such things, but he was getting into this manly man stuff and he liked having an edge.
”And my nails are hopeless.” She looked down at the sand. ”I wonder if I could take one of those sticky rinds to glue some sand onto and file my nails with it?”
”You might want to put that creativity into figuring out how we can signal to the rescuers.”
She squinted at him. ”Was that some sort of crack?”
”I just think we have more pressing matters to worry about than your manicure.”
”I didn't say my nails were the most important thing. I was just thinking aloud, which I'll be careful not to do in the future, because goodness, I might think about something unimportant. I'm sure you always think important thoughts.”
He wondered if imagining her topless qualified as an important thought. It was occupying him quite a lot now that she'd taken off her jacket and he could watch her b.r.e.a.s.t.s jiggle when she moved.
”All right,” she said. ”Let's think about this rescue business. Should we get some rocks and spell out HELP on the sand?”
”We could.”
”Do you think there's any chance Nick's still around here somewhere?”
He blinked. He'd been so absorbed in watching her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and thinking about how her mouth would taste with guava juice on it that he'd forgotten all about the maniac who had landed them in this predicament. ”I doubt it,” he said.
”Yes, but would you bet your prize rooster on it?”