No Strings Attached (37 page)

Jenna saved her from further embarrassment. She went to Three Shirts and returned with a dry yellow tee.
Heigh Ho, Heigh Ho, It’s Off To Work I Go
was scripted on the front.

Shortly after that, Sophie tripped over a broom. She couldn’t help it. Her thoughts were on Dune and she ran into Eden, who was sweeping up the floor. Eden was apologetic, but it wasn’t her fault. Moments later, Sophie stepped on a full dustpan and the contents spilled on the clean floor. She felt bad, making extra work for Eden.

Her friends knew she was clumsy, but Frank didn’t. She’d wanted to make a good impression. She hadn’t succeeded. She found that disappointing.

She rolled her shoulders, then twisted left. That’s when she saw Frank rubbing his lower back. She realized he’d been standing all day. He’d grown uncomfortable. She immediately sent Mac to Molly’s diner to borrow a chair. Frank needed to get off his feet.

“Pop a squat,” Mac told Frank when he returned with the chair.

Frank sat down heavily. He took off his slippers and rubbed his feet. Sophie noticed his blisters were red and raw. Poor man. She hurt for him. She carried Band-Aids in her hobo bag. She offered him two.

Frank’s expression was stern but melancholy when he accepted the adhesive strips. “You remind me of my Emma.” His voice was low and gravelly. “She was”—he paused for a moment, deciding what to say—“what you might call awkward at times. But she had a big heart and always had a smile for me, even on the worst of days.”

He looked toward the front window. Sophie sensed his stare went beyond the glass and to another time. “Do you play the piano?” he asked her.

Sophie shook her head. “I’m musically challenged.”

“Come to my home sometime,” Frank said, meaning it. “I’ll teach you how to play ‘Chopsticks.’ ”

“I’d like that,” Sophie said.

The day advanced according to plan. Three o’clock and her fiscal advisor, Ted Donahue, arrived right on time. He was a man of medium height with a slight build and a pleasant face. He wore a white shirt tucked into brown pants and sported a tie designed with colorful M&Ms.

“My daughter’s favorite candy,” he said when he saw Sophie smile. “Mandy’s five, and her life’s all about plain and peanut M&Ms.”

Sophie had loved Snickers as a kid.

Ted tapped his hand on his briefcase. “The mayor assigned me to work with you. Is there a quiet place where we can talk?” he asked, noting the cleaning and scraping going on in the front room. “I want to go over your fiscal budget and employment contract.”

“My office is in the back,” she offered.

Kai had set up a temporary desk for her, consisting of two sawhorses with a board in between. They remained standing since there were no chairs. Ted popped open his briefcase and produced the necessary paperwork.

Sophie scanned the computer-generated budget. It was all Greek to her. She excelled in history and literature, but math was not her strongest skill.

After thirty minutes, her eyes crossed. Ted was a very patient man. He answered her questions and went over the graphs with her until she grasped the basics.

“It’s not that tough, Sophie,” Ted assured her. He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Think of the museum budget like a household budget. You have so much money to spend each month. The most important thing to remember is not to overdraw your checking account.”

She nodded. That made sense to her.

He rummaged through his briefcase and located a thick manila envelope, which he handed to her. “Your employee contract.” He pointed out several important paragraphs and explained each one in detail. “Read it over carefully and sign on the lines with the Xs. I’ll pick it up later this week.”

He packed up his briefcase and, on his way out, he said, “I encourage you to accept donations to the museum.”

Sophie walked him to the door. He shook her hand politely. “I’m not a Cates by birth,” he told her, “but I love history. The museum will be a nice addition to the town.”

Ted cleared the door just as Mac shouted, “Make way everyone, garbage to the Dumpster.” He hefted two large bags of trash and headed for the loading dock.

Sophie noticed her volunteers were diligent throughout the remainder of the day. No one had taken a break. They kept a steady pace. It was long past six when they began to slow down, backs aching, knees sore. Sophie glanced around her museum and let out a relieved sigh. Gone were the dust, dirt, and moldy scent. A fresh aroma of lemon filled the air. The walls were scrubbed free of grime. The front window sparkled.

Kai Cates crossed to her. He hooked his thumbs in his tool belt, then said, “Nicole and I are headed out, if that’s okay with you. We have plans.”

“Every night is date night for us,” Nicole said, joining them. She winked at Sophie. “It keeps the romance alive.”

Definitely alive, Sophie agreed. Kai and Nicole raised the temperature in any room. His gaze was hot and his smile was sexy. Nicole licked her lips, tempting him. Their heat made Sophie’s skin prickle.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Sophie,” said Kai.

“I’ll be here after eight,” she told him.

Eden came up behind her and gave her a hug. “I’m all worn out,” she said, wiping her face with a paper towel. “By the way, I ordered several new vintage cut-outs for Old Tyme Portraits. Stop by and I’ll take your picture.”

“I’d like that. Thanks, Eden.” Sophie watched her helpers leave one by one. Trace picked up Shaye and Frank minutes later.

Frank turned to Sophie at the door. “You have a long way to go, young lady, but the end result will be worthy of your efforts,” he said, nodding his approval.

His compliment pleased Sophie.

“I’ll see you bright and early in the morning.” He followed Shaye out.

Sophie leaned back against the sandpapered wood of the front door. She was tired, but happy. Frank was the biggest surprise of all. She’d bet the older gentleman would beat her to work each morning.

He’d been enthusiastic, sitting in his chair all afternoon, watching the museum take shape, his sharp eyes missing nothing, scolding Mac when he fooled around.

Frank’s presence pleased Sophie greatly. She hoped he would become a permanent fixture. It occurred to her he would need his own key. She’d have an extra one made for him.

Her thoughts turned to the work she’d planned for Tuesday. She and Kai would select paint for the front room. Once the painting was completed, Kai would buff the hardwood floors, which were scuffed and marred from customer traffic.

The bookstore had been a popular spot for tourists and had seen a lot of sandy bare feet and flip-flops in its day. Sunbathers had purchased their favorite novels to read on the beach.

It would soon be history buffs pouring through the doors, she thought, visitors who were as interested in the past as they were in the present. She had fascinating tales to tell them. She knew the Cateses better than she knew her own family.

Her good friend Jenna bumped Sophie’s elbow as she came to stand beside her. “I have to take off, too,” she said. “I left my assistant in charge for the afternoon. Jamie is competent, but I need to cash out.”

“I appreciate your help,” Sophie said.

Mac hung around a moment longer. He stood by Sophie and stared at Jen until she cleared the door. He craned his neck to catch a look at her on the sidewalk.

“Why don’t you go after her?” Sophie asked.

“Can’t,” he said. “I ‘overwhelm her.’ ” He used air quotes. “She expects me to play nice and give her space until after the Huntington Beach Classic.”

Sophie pursed her lips. “Since when do you do what’s expected?”

“I never have until Jen,” he admitted.

She was hesitant. “So, you’ll be back?” It was important for her to know the answer. If Mac returned, so might Dune.

“I’ll be back so fast Jen won’t know what hit her,” he said. “I plan to hop a plane following our final match point.”

“You’re predicting a victory?” she asked.

Mac grew serious. “I believe in Dune. He’s the best player in the game,” he said. “Study his face the next time you watch us play on TV. No one has more mental control than he does. He
will
s us to win.”

Sophie understood. She knew Dune’s expression well. His steely-eyed stare was so intense it made her shiver. His game was powerful and precise. Dune became the game of volleyball with his first serve. “The two of you are unbeatable when—” She broke off her sentence, biting down on her lip.

“When we’re both healthy,” he finished for her. “Don’t worry, Sophie. Somehow we’ll pull off Huntington. Then we’ll evaluate our situation.” Mac rubbed the back of his neck. “Dune has his treatment tomorrow. If the medical procedure works, the Hermosa Beach Open will be the next stop on our tour.”

“Hopefully he’ll have options,” she softly agreed.

“Volleyball is his life,” said Mac. “That’s all he’s ever known.”

Sophie had to face the truth. There was a distinct possibility Dune might not return to Barefoot William. Not for some time, anyway. Should his tendonitis improve, he was going to be very busy traveling. According to the information she’d found on the Internet, the schedule for the upcoming professional beach volleyball tour ran through October.

She sighed deeply. It could be a long five months.

Her stomach clutched at the thought of not seeing him for so long, but she had to live with that. She would never ask him to choose between her and his sport. There’d be no contest.

He’d pick volleyball.

“I’m off, Soph.” Mac dropped a light, brotherly kiss on her forehead. “I told Frank I’d bring home dinner. We’re having Mexican tonight. He likes beef tacos and I’m having supersized burritos. Maybe I’ll buy him a sombrero so he can eat in style.” He paused, grew thoughtful. “Want to join us? We could do the Mexican Hat Dance.”

Sophie grinned, knowing Mac would liven up her evening, but she’d rather be alone. “Not tonight, Mac. I’ll be here for another couple hours, then I’m headed home to my girls,” she told him. “It’s popcorn and a movie for me.”

“Sounds good. Bye, babe.” He gave her a wave, and then he was gone.

The door closed, and Sophie walked around the shop. She took a good look at the two rooms that would make up the museum, then her office. She could see the family mural, the black-and-white photographs, and display cases on the walls. A living history of the boardwalk she loved. Finally, she sat down on the chair Frank had vacated. She hadn’t realized how mentally exhausted she was until now. She closed her eyes and massaged her brow.

“Hello, anyone here?” a woman called from the front room.

Sophie startled at her mother’s voice. “Back here,” she said.

Maya appeared in the doorway looking as elegant as if she’d stepped from a fashion magazine. Sophie wondered what special occasion had prompted her to bring out her formal attire. Her mother looked stunning in a tea-length black satin dress and black leather pumps. She carried a silver evening bag. Diamonds sparkled at her ears and on her wrist. Her makeup was light but effective, giving her a polished look. Her hair was loosely tied back with a black velvet ribbon. She looked younger than her fifty-seven years.

“You look lovely, Mother,” Sophie said, meaning it.

“Thank you” was all Maya said. Nothing more, no mother-daughter conversation about the designer or where she’d bought the dress.

Instead, she looked around the room, her gaze landing on the buckets and mops. She sniffed, and the corners of her eyes and mouth pinched slightly. The strong smell of cleaning products was not to her liking.

“I’m surprised to see you,” Sophie initiated.

“Trace mentioned you’ve been hired as the curator of the Barefoot William Museum,” her mother said.

Sophie felt a momentary sense of relief. Leave it to her big brother to help her out by breaking the news to her parents. She appreciated his sharing the information with them. Trace had saved her from the brunt of their caustic remarks.

“I’ve read William Cates’s journals and I admire the man,” Sophie said with great care. “He embraced the town as if it were family. All he ever wanted was to provide for those he loved and to live in peace.” She met her mother’s gaze. “Our ancestors treated him poorly. Evan Saunders was a capitalist. He bullied William. He kicked sand in William’s face. Evan took land that belonged to the Cates family without asking. Any alliance that might have formed between the two families turned into a bitter feud.”

Maya pursed her lips. “Do you wish you’d been born a Cates?” she asked.

Sophie shook her head. “No, I’m happy with who I am.” She had a question for her mother, one that had weighed heavily on her mind for many years. Somehow, she found the courage to ask her, “Are you glad I’m your daughter?”

“Why would you ask me that?” Maya lips parted. She appeared genuinely surprised.

Sophie’s mouth was dry and her throat closed. She took a deep breath, then managed to say, “I feel like I’m a disappointment to you.”

Maya glanced aside, refusing to meet her eyes. She drew a tight breath as she brushed imaginary lint from her sleeve. Sophie realized she’d made her mother uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Maya finally said.

“It’s more than a feeling, Mother. It’s a fact.” Sophie’s heart squeezed tighter yet. “In your eyes, I seldom do anything right.”

Maya stiffened. “I’ve never meant to make you feel unwanted or less of a person.”

“Perhaps that wasn’t your intent,” Sophie said, allowing her that concession. “But I’ve never felt good enough around you.”

A heavy pause hung in the air before Maya said, “I don’t know how to say this, Sophie, but I see myself in you and that frightens me.”

Sophie’s eyes rounded. “You see me in you?”

“We are very similar in many ways,” Maya confessed to her. She glanced at the ceiling, then around the room, stalling for time. Her words came slowly and when they did, Sophie was taken aback. “I was plump, unpopular, and insecure when I was younger,” her mother began. “I never dated in high school. Then I went to college. That’s when your father fell in love with me.

“Unfortunately, Brandt’s parents found me lacking as a future daughter-in-law,” she continued, her voice turning brittle as she spoke. “I wasn’t good enough for their son, they said in no uncertain terms. They didn’t approve of our engagement because I wasn’t a socialite with an old-money pedigree. His mother, Juliana, had chosen another woman for Brandt and did everything in her power to push us apart.”