Hot Summer Nights. Joan Elizabeth Lloyd
of wine and alcohol, with a few sizes of plastic glasses. Several large coolers filled with ice sat beneath it, and she watched people reach inside to get cans of soda or bottles of beer, supplied, she assumed, by the hotel. Leslie put her bowl with others, then wandered over and grabbed a can of Diet Coke. She popped the top, then stood watching the interplay of small groups of people.
She’d become an expert at reading the subtle clues in people’s body language. Several couples leaned close, talking and laughing lightly together, lovers on vacation, she thought with a smile. Several teens were sitting on the seawall talking companionably, arms draped over shoulders. Other people chatted comfortably in small groups while a number of singles strolled through the crowd looking to make connections. She was surprised at how many unattached people there were. Maybe this had become the once a month equivalent of a Manhattan singles bar.
“Hi, Leslie,” a quiet voice behind her said and she turned to see Abby. “Nice to see you again.”
Abby looked as though she’d made an effort with her wardrobe, wearing a becoming teal summer sweater and white slacks. She wore a touch of lipstick, something Leslie hadn’t seen before, and had curled her short brown hair. Leslie was quick to notice the two-carat diamond studs she wore in her ears and the rock the size of a small cube of sugar she wore with her wedding ring. Right, Leslie remembered, Abby’s husband was due to arrive from the city. Although no one seemed to get made up, she couldn’t help but wonder what a touch of mascara and shadow would do for this slightly mousey-looking woman’s toast-colored eyes. “Hi. Nice to see you again, too. Where are those wonderful children of yours?”
Abby pointed. “Over there with a bunch of their friends.” It was amazing how women brightened when they talked about their children. It did wonders for Abby’s looks. “It’s so nice to know that all the neighbors will have their eyes on everyone’s kids so I can be a little more relaxed.”
The two women stood on the edge of the growing gathering and watched the crowd. “I’m surprised at the number of people who seem to be single,” Leslie said. “I would think this would be sort of a couples thing.”
“I hadn’t focused on it but I guess it’s happened gradually. Vicki attracts guys like a magnet and several of the employees of the hotel come over to try to get—well let’s just say to get connected. She’s got a very active social life. Once the guys arrived a few unattached women from the hotel started to come over and it sort of just developed. Sometimes people who were singles in June are part of a couple by August. You know, summer romances and all.”
“An interesting dynamic,” Leslie thought out loud. Then, turning her attention to Abby, she said, “I remember that you said your husband arrives on Friday evening. Is he here yet?”
Abby hesitated, then said, “Oh, he’s often late. He works really hard.” She unconsciously patted the small square bulge in the pocket of her slacks. “I’ve got my phone and he’ll call when he’s on the road.” As if summoned, the phone rang. Abby clicked it on, then listened. “Great. I’ll see you in about an hour.” She turned away from Leslie and spoke softly into the phone, but Leslie couldn’t help but hear her quiet, “I love you and miss you.” She watched as Abby listened and then snapped the phone shut. “He’s on his way,” she said, with a slightly forced lightness. “He had to work late again.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting him when he gets here.”
Her voice filled with a kind of pride. “You’ll like him. Everyone does. He’s so handsome and charming.”
“What does he do for a living?”
“He’s a very well-known entertainment lawyer and agent.”
“Really? Does he work with anyone I’d know?”
Abby named a few TV personalities Leslie had heard of, two of whom she’d entertained herself. “That must be exciting,” she said. “Do you get to meet them?”
“Occasionally, but with the kids and all it’s tough for me to get out. Damian’s not big on babysitters.”
Smoke from the grill began to drift upward. “Is one of the men doing the cooking Suze’s husband?” Leslie asked, changing the subject.
Abby looked toward the grill. “The short, Hispanic guy is Carl Hernandez, Joe’s assistant at the market, and the taller one with the spatula is Kevin. I wonder where Suze is.” She looked around, spotted the mayor, and pointed. “There she is. She wouldn’t miss this.” She huffed out a breath. “She has to work the room. Some of these folks are voters.”
Suze was wearing beige slacks with a short-sleeved shirt with wide bright red, navy, and tan stripes. Anything to stand out in a crowd, Leslie thought. “Right, I see her.” Leslie decided to pump Abby for some local color. “Has she been mayor long?”
“Four or five years, I think. At least since I’ve been coming here.” She huffed out a breath. “She’s a bit difficult to take sometimes, but I think she’s got a good heart. I’m not sure what a mayor of a small town like Sound’s End does but she seems to be bustling around all the time. Meetings. Luncheons. Lord only knows.”
“I’ve no idea,” Leslie said with a shrug. She saw a small crowd gathered around a woman who seemed to be in her midthirties with a mane of blond hair that she seemed to flip with each turn of her head. “Is that the famous Vicki who makes Suze turn colors?”
Abby chuckled. “That’s her. And over there,” she pointed to a slender young woman sitting with the group of teens, “is Trish, her daughter. Vicki tells anyone who’ll listen that she had her when she was only sixteen.”
Leslie took several moments to study the two women. Vicki was a bit overblown, statuesque, with large breasts that she displayed beneath a Kelly green shirt with tails tied across her diaphragm. Tight white slacks emphasized her firm behind and, as opposed to the usual sneakers, she wore strappy white sandals. She was talking animatedly with several men, one of whom Leslie recognized as the guy who had checked her in at the hotel.
In contrast, her daughter wore jeans shorts and a polo shirt and sat talking to the young man who’d introduced himself as KJ, Suze’s son. She glanced back at the man doing the cooking and saw that the two men looked quite a bit alike, tall, lean yet muscular, both with curly, brown hair. The man from the hotel turned away from Vicki, caught Leslie’s eye then said something to another man that made him look her way, laugh, and give a thumbs-up sign. With a wide grin, he broke away from the group.
“Hello,” he said as he walked over. “It’s Leslie, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I’m surprised you remember.”
“We don’t get many women as attractive as you are,” he said, giving her a quick once-over.
Leslie kept her long sigh to herself. She was used to the effect she seemed to have on men, and it helped her no end in her job. In social situations, however, it became tiresome to constantly have to deflect come-ons. She turned. “You must know Abby.”
“Of course,” he said, his focus still on Leslie. “Nice to see you again.”
“Hi, Gerry,” she said, moving away. “I’m going to check on my kids.” She all but ran, leaving Leslie with Gerry.
“This is quite a crowd,” Leslie said, trying not to be too rude.
“It usually is.” He lowered his voice. “I was hoping you’d be here.”
She sipped her soda, then saw Brad leave his house and head for the grill. There it was, that little tingle of awareness. Shoving it to the back of her mind, she said, “I think I’ll say hello to Suze. If you’ll excuse me, Gerry.”
“Sure,” he said, looking deflated.
Leslie made a beeline for the mayor. “Hi, there. This is quite a party.”
Конец ознакомительного