Barefoot Bay: The Billionaire's Convenient Secret (Kindle Worlds Novella) (5 page)

“It’s probably nothing.” Apparently, the news that Charity was selling the Super Min hadn’t made it onto the local grapevine. He cleared his throat. “She left town without canceling her appointment with Ms. Oak. That doesn’t sound like Charity, but I suppose she had her reasons.”

Lacey tsked. “She usually does.”

Usually several of them at the same time.

Behind them, a phone chirped, drawing Lacey’s attention. “I’d better get that, Josh. I’m filling in up front this weekend. It was good to see you again. Don’t be a stranger.”

“You, too, Lacey. Give my best to the family if I don’t see them this trip.”

Almost as an afterthought, Lacey added, “Make sure you stay with us next time you visit. You won’t be disappointed.”

After agreeing to do just that, he made his way through the lobby to Junonia. There, the daily special—seared pompano on a bed of barley risotto with a mango chutney—sounded too good to resist. The full-bodied texture of the Alsace Pinot Gris he kept on hand back at home made it the perfect accompaniment for the fish. He ran his tongue over the back of his teeth, wondering if Junonia might have something equal to the pairing.

A discreet rustle at the hostess stand drew his attention. He crossed to the dimly lit corner, where he gave his first name. “I’d like a table for two this evening. Something with a view, if possible.”

“We’ll be only too happy to serve you…Josh,” came an answer that acknowledged him without revealing more information than he’d provided. “Chef Ian is especially looking forward to cooking for you.”

“He shouldn’t go to any extra trouble, Marcia,” he said, noting the name tag on the girl’s uniform and giving himself a reminder to reward her for her discretion. “To tell the truth, reading about tonight’s special made my mouth water.”

“I’ll let him know,” Marcia said with a cheery smile. “Can I see you to a table?”

He nodded. “I’m expecting Charlotte Oak to join me in a few minutes. If you could keep an eye out for her, I’d appreciate it.” When the waitress lingered, he tilted his head. “Yes?”

“Mr. Josh, I hate to ask, but…”

“What is it, Marcia?”

“Well, my folks’ fiftieth wedding anniversary is next year. They both like wine, and I thought I’d like to give them something really special. Can you recommend something?”

Josh smiled. “Fifty years. That’s an occasion worthy of the very best.” Should he and his bride—whomever she might be—ever reach that momentous date, he’d crack open the 2005 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti aging in his private cellar. But at thirteen thousand dollars for a single bottle, he doubted the burgundy was in Marcia’s price range. “How much do you want to spend?”

“There’s three of us kids. We thought we’d pitch in fifty apiece, a dollar for every year. So around a hundred and fifty?”

“My absolute favorite at that price point is a Napa Valley Spottswoode Cabernet. If your folks like reds, they’ll love it.”

“Thanks, Mr. Josh.” Marcia scribbled.

Josh nodded. “And congratulate your parents for me.”

Marcia left him to study the resort’s surprisingly extensive wine list. By the time water had been poured and she returned, he’d decided to start with an artisanal cheese plate and another favorite, a bottle of Château Saint-Paulin Bordeaux. Marcia disappeared into the kitchen while he relaxed and enjoyed the view at a table overlooking the pool and the gulf beyond.

And what a view it was, he decided moments later, when he spotted Charlie at the entryway. She’d ditched the black suit, replacing it with flowing white pants and a sleeveless tank that showed her sculpted arms to their best advantage. If he’d thought the red-soled heels she’d worn earlier were unbeatable, he’d been wrong. The strappy sandals that clung to her feet were every bit as adorable. Best of all, she’d released her hair from its wispy bun. He swallowed, watching the waterfall of corn silk cascade over her shoulders.

His usual aplomb deserted him as she neared. Struggling to his feet, he bumped his knees on a table leg, a move that sent water goblets teetering and flooded his face with uncustomary warmth. It took effort, but he managed to circle the table and pull back her chair without crashing into anything else. While she slid onto the upholstered cushion, he brushed a hand down the button placket of his linen shirt. For the first time in recent memory, he wished he’d packed his tux. A woman like Charlie deserved black tie, dim lights and all the trappings of success. Maintaining his good ol’ boy image long enough to pry answers from her was going to be tougher than he’d thought it would be. Especially considering the willowy blonde was someone he’d definitely like to impress.

* * *

The tuxedoed server hovering at her elbow waited just long enough for Charlie to slide her legs under the table before he leaned in, spreading a crisp white napkin across her lap. Three feet away, Josh tugged his own chair out just a shade too forcefully. He collapsed into it, his shoulders slumping, as nervous as a schoolboy on his first date. And no wonder. He’d probably never stepped into a five-star restaurant before, almost certainly had never dined in one where the staff outnumbered the guests. He was, in all likelihood, gasping for air like a fish out of water. She smiled, trying her best to put him at ease.

“I’m glad we decided to do this tonight,” she said, her voice low. “You look nice.” Nice was an understatement. Though he hadn’t exactly dressed for dinner, he looked perfectly delectable in a linen shirt and chinos.

A shy smile spread from his eyes downward, widening a pair of kissable lips and stirring an unexpected warmth in her midsection. Suddenly thirsty, she sipped water. Josh didn’t need to dress up for anyone. Not with that boyish grin of his dimpling his chiseled cheeks.

“You look pretty good yourself. I like your hair all loose like that.”

“Yes, well.” She flicked a thick strand over one shoulder. “I wear it up when I’m working. It’s easier that way.”

Wait staff stood at a discreet distance while Josh said, “I’ve ordered some cheese and a bottle of wine to start. I hope you’ll like it.”

As if his words had triggered the man’s appearance, the sommelier approached the table bearing Josh’s selection.

“Um, could you hold off a sec?” Charlie hid her dismay at the expensive-looking bottle. She liked a nice glass of chardonnay as well as the next person, but the Bordeaux had to cost more than Josh’s salary for an entire week. She ran a finger down the wine list, searching for something affordable. “I think we might try something else. How about the house rosé?”

“I’m sure the house wines are good.” Josh glanced at the sommelier, who nodded agreeably. “But this one had a very high rating in
Wine Spectator
. I want to give it a try.”

“Are you sure, Josh? It’s awfully…” Unwilling to insult him, she hesitated.

“Expensive?” he asked, filling in the blank. “I know. If it’s as good as they say it is, it’ll be worth it.”

He’d probably read about it in a magazine he pulled off the rack at the Super Min and wanted to make an impression. She resisted the urge to point out how unnecessary that was. It’d take more than a good bottle of wine and a snack in a nice restaurant to move their relationship past the first stepping stone. A lot more. Not that Josh wasn’t a great guy or didn’t deserve her attention. His killer smile and fantasy-inspiring body bought him at least that much.

“Fine,” she said, conceding the field.

She waited while the waiter made a production out of opening the bottle. To her surprise, Josh took the cork when it was handed to him and waved it under his nose just like the connoisseurs had in the wine appreciation class she’d taken one weekend. She studied his face, noting the way his nostrils flared the tiniest bit, a sign that he found the aroma acceptable. The wine steward poured a small portion. Taking it, Josh tipped his glass from side to side, apparently entranced by the ruby red hues coating the inside of the glass. At last, he took a sip. She tried not to stare when he swallowed, but his Adam’s apple bobbed so gracefully, the sight made her back teeth ache.

“Excellent,” he pronounced. “I think we’ll enjoy this.”

Heat pooled in her midsection when he met her gaze. Unable to look away, she stared into his deep-set eyes. The heat rose to her face, and she had a hard time resisting the urge to fan herself. At last, with a gentle nod, Josh broke the contact, his attention returning to the steward, who splashed generous portions into both their glasses.

Glad for the distraction, Charlie took a drink. Unexpected and bold, the dark, fruity taste practically exploded on her tongue. She closed her eyes, enjoying the rich sensation.

“Oh,” she breathed when she found her voice again. “You were so right.” She tipped her glass. “I don’t know a lot about wine, but this one is lovely.” In truth, she barely knew enough to tell a dry wine from sweet. As for the nuances other people raved about—oak and cinnamon, pear or cherry—she readily admitted she didn’t have a clue. But, like an art collector, she knew what she liked. And she liked this.

“A toast,” Josh said, lifting his glass. “May tonight be just the beginning…” As she touched her rim to his, his eyes twinkled, and he added, “Of a great friendship.”

Her breath caught, and she wondered what it’d be like if they were on a real date, rather than a casual meet-and-greet for drinks. She had a funny feeling that, if things were different between them, she could seriously fall for the man seated across the table. He was sweet and kind, with a body that made all her feminine parts stand to attention. On the outside, at least, he seemed like the perfect guy. But the fact remained that they were two ships at sea, each headed in different directions, only coming within hailing distance of each other for one brief moment.

“Have you heard from Charity?” she asked, the question serving as a reminder to both of them that they had no future together.

“Not yet. I’m sure she’ll check in once they make port in Cozumel. Cheese?” he asked.

Her gaze dropped to the artfully arranged platter their waitress had slid onto the table while her focus had been locked on Josh. Wedges in various shades surrounded ripe figs at one end. At the other, a small pot held a spread that looked and smelled divine. A basket of home-baked crackers and tiny slivers of toast stood nearby. To give her fingers something to do besides reaching across the table to stroke Josh’s arm, she busied them by doling out crackers and dip.

Josh popped a cheese-laden slice into his mouth. Entranced by the movement of his jaw, she wondered if they both felt the same pull toward one another. Apparently not, because his focus definitely was on other things when he said, “Tell me about this deal.”

Charlie blinked.
Business?
Not the topic of conversation she’d have chosen when they were seated at the best table in one of the finest restaurants in Florida. She reeled her thoughts in from the impromptu walk they’d taken down a flower-strewn path. It was just as well that Josh wanted to discuss the Super Min, she told herself. She shouldn’t be thinking about anything else anyway. Certainly not about how tall and muscular her date was. Or the way his broad chest filled out his shirt.

She gave her head a slight shake to clear it and spouted the party line. “My firm, Waterson and Bash in Orlando, was retained by Favor Oil to bring the mom-and-pop stores connected to their gas stations under one umbrella. The initiative will standardize stores across the nation—same basic floor plan, same signage, same products. That will enable Favor to buy in larger bulk when stocking their stores and lead to lower consumer prices, a huge benefit.”

“At the cost of the stores’ individuality.” Josh mashed one of the figs and spread it over a slice of cheese. “Try this,” he said, dishing a portion onto her bread plate.

“I’m not sure what you mean by that,” she said, spreading a glob of the unappealing mix on a toast point. Just to be polite, she took a dainty bite and then savored another when the combination of salt and sweet woke up her taste buds.

“Okay.” Holding a small butter knife against a fragrant herbed cracker, Josh lowered his hands to the table. “Take the Super Min’s boiled peanuts as an example. They’re made from a recipe that’s been handed down through Charity’s family for generations. Visitors to the island come back to the Super Min, rather than shopping at a big-box store on the mainland, just to get our boiled peanuts. Other little mom-and-pops have their own specialty items. Those will all go away if Favor takes over.”

For a moment, Charlie lost herself in memories of an immense cast-iron pot suspended over an open fire. As a kid, she’d rated a peanut boil right up there with dipping hand-cranked ice cream straight out of the churn on a hot summer night. Only the first watermelon of the season rated higher, and her mouth watered for the taste of soft, salty peanuts. The urge to sample the Super Min’s before she headed home washed over her. Resisting, she wiped a crumb from the linen tablecloth and shook aside her childhood likes and dislikes. Her tastes were far more sophisticated now.

“You make a valid point. But the client feels the benefits—lower prices for consumers—will win out in the end. It fits with their motto:
Do yourself a favor. Shop at Favor.
” Which, in her mind at least, was redundant and therefore stupid, but since no one had asked for her advice, she’d kept her mouth shut on the subject. She broke a cracker in half. “I’m afraid this decision was made by someone much higher up the chain than you or me. And, it’s going to happen. Charity has already agreed to the terms. All that’s left is to get her signature, and the sale is a done deal.”