You Had Me At Goodbye. Jane Blackwood
as a puppy and seemed to have as much energy. She was wearing a white short-sleeve blouse and tan capris; her feet were bare, and her toenails were painted bright red. Two of her toes had small rings on them, and for some reason, Lawrence’s gaze kept straying to those two rings.
“Hi, Roy. Glad to see you’re keeping up with tradition,” Kat said, motioning to the martinis. “I think I’ll stick with this, though.”
This was a bottle of wine, but it fizzed as she poured it into her glass, and the ice crackled.
“Fine vintage,” Lawrence said dryly, eyeing the pinkish “wine” that chugged out of the bottle.
“Arbor Mist. And I like it. It tastes like Kool Aid.”
“Fruit punch,” Roy supplied when he saw Lawrence’s confusion.
Katherine gave him a look that told him she didn’t care what he thought of her choice of wine and took a deep sip. He watched, slightly distracted by how long and smooth her neck looked as she drank. She looked prettier than she had earlier, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. She wore no makeup that he could see, and her short hair looked exactly the same as it had. Maybe it was the softening of the light, but for some reason, he found himself studying her and liking what he saw.
“Is your boyfriend coming to the island later?” Roy asked.
Katherine visibly stiffened and looked startled by the question, then shook her head and smiled. “Not this summer.”
There was something a little off about that smile, Lawrence thought.
“I hear you two are engaged. When’s the big date?”
The strangest thing happened then. Lawrence, who hardly knew this woman, found himself disappointed in a profound way that she was unattainable. He hadn’t even thought of attaining her, at least not on any conscious level. The idea of a fling had been a challenge, not a recognition of any attraction. And yet here he was feeling bothered that she was taken, that he would never find out what it would be like to pursue her. It was as if a large red X had been painted over her.
She glanced down at her glass. “We actually won’t be getting married.”
Lawrence watched her as she stared at her bubbling wine, aware she was trying to hold it together and horribly afraid she would break down and cry in front of them. Instead, she smiled that strange smile and said, “It was a mutual thing. I think we dated too long and lost interest in each other.” Lawrence studied her expression but found no hidden sadness, nothing to indicate she was suffering over the loss, and he was slightly amazed at how good an actress she was.
“He drank Budweiser,” Roy said, as if that explained everything. Katherine laughed.
“And I drink strawberry wine. We were a perfect match for a while there.”
She sounded much too chipper. Clearly, she was here to lick her wounds. The desperate need for solitude suddenly made perfect sense to Lawrence. Poor girl probably wanted to wail and moan into her pillow without any fear that she’d be overheard.
“If you’d like, I could let you have the house for, say, two days,” Lawrence said, feeling overly generous.
“Two days? Gee, Larry, why this generous change of heart?”
She glared at him, and Lawrence had a sinking feeling he was about to lose another battle. “I thought you needed to lick your wounds. The broken engagement and all,” he said, suddenly uncertain.
“No wounds to lick,” Kat said with more confidence than she felt. She’d be damned if she admitted to Mr. Most Eligible Bachelor that she’d come to the island for the sole purpose of licking her wounds. “I just need a vacation.”
“And what sort of work are you vacationing from?” Larry asked, and Kat could tell he was just being polite.
“I own…owned a housecleaning service. Taylor Maids,” Kat said, wondering what God had against her to send her this man who was managing to sprinkle salt on her open cuts.
“You’ve retired?” Larry asked.
“If you must know, I got sued. One of my clients had a show dog, a little thing that looked more like a mop than a real dog, and it ran out into the street and got hit by a truck. I suppose I was to blame because I’m the one who opened the damn door.”
“You killed her dog?”
She looked at him deadpan. “Frankly, given the dog’s owner, I think it may have been suicide.”
Larry let out a bark of laughter. Kat still couldn’t bring herself to laugh about it, especially since that single moment had meant the end of Taylor Maids. She’d spent the last four years building her business, focusing on high end clients, only to lose everything when her most powerful client sued her. She’d made the mistake of building her customer base in a single large upscale development. The dog owner was president of the homeowner’s association, so overnight, Kat lost eighty percent of her customer base. She’d had to lay off her two employees, which had broken her heart.
A week later, Brian finished her heart off by stepping on it.
“That’s such a sad story I’ve half a mind to let you have the house for the summer.”
“Really?” Kat asked hopefully, but with a large dose of skepticism.
“Unfortunately, the other half of my mind is in charge,” Larry said, grinning.
“Ha ha,” Kat said grumpily, pouring a little bit more wine into her glass. Then, partly to irritate him, she offered the bottle to Lawrence. “Try some. As long as you don’t think of it as wine, you’ll be fine. Drink right out of the bottle. It’ll help you to know how the other half lives.”
“Other half?” he asked, looking to Roy to see if he knew what she was talking about.
“I Googled you,” she said, and she could tell he was momentarily confused. “The Internet. Most eligible bachelor running yachts aground, attending charity balls with Barbies.”
“My God, that’s all online?”
Kat took a sip. “You bet. Fascinating stuff.”
After looking at Roy in mock horror, he took the bottle grimly. “Shouldn’t this be in a paper bag for the full effect?”
“I’m not trying to make you look homeless, just like a real person.”
“Do real people drink straight out of the bottle?” he asked Roy, and Kat knew he was simply indulging her and having a bit of fun.
“I’m not a real person,” Roy said dryly.
Lawrence upended the bottle and chugalugged it, making bubbles roll around the bottle. “Not bad,” he said, grimacing only slightly.
Kat looked at her now half-empty bottle and frowned. “You’re a quick study,” she said.
“I aim to please.” He looked at Kat, and even though she’d later swear it was an innocent look, innocent words, she felt the biggest rush of lust she’d felt in…well, ever.
She was going to have to make sure she got rid of him, and soon.
Chapter 3
Kat looked glumly out the living room window at the painfully blue Atlantic as she listened with not a small amount of resentment to Larry move about the kitchen on one of the rare occasions when he was actually preparing something to eat. Her vacation, she thought morosely, was not turning out at all the way she’d thought it would. She was about to turn back to the kitchen when she saw him. Brian. Walking along the boardwalk, dragging an overnight bag, his blond crew-cut hair glistening in the sun.
“Oh, God. Oh, God.”
She couldn’t keep her eyes off him; she couldn’t move. She could only stare as he got closer and closer, her mouth gaping open.
“Katherine,