Chapter 13

Rory

I had almost blown it with Dawn, and my head was so far up my own ass I hadn't even realized I was in the danger zone. Driving down the highway, I pressed a few buttons on my phone that was secure in its cradle on the dashboard.

"Don't text and drive," Dawn droned, trying to rally her usual snark, but I could see that her heart wasn't really into it.

"I'm not." It wasn't like I was searching Tinder. I was just giving Marco, my chef, directions to put the meal in the fridge and we would warm it up much later. Or maybe I would be eating it for breakfast and lunch tomorrow. Then I had to double-check that the Landscapes’ party was still going on strong.

"If you were paying attention to the road, you would have noticed that you just passed your exit." She tapped the window.

"We're not going to the yacht."

That shocked her. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her trying to figure out what my angle was. It was simple. She was still clutching her overnight bag like a teddy bear and she had just stopped crying. I'd have to be a grade-A prick to try and seduce her like this. What I'd like to do is have some words with her father for treating his beautiful daughter like she was clay that he had to mold.

The similarities between our fathers was uncomfortable. Instead of rebelling, I overachieved. And Cammy couldn’t come close to my successes, so she didn’t even try.

“What was the name of the quarterback you stabbed?”

“Austin Robinson. Why, are we going to his house? I’m in the mood to kick some ass.”

“Does he still live around here?” I shook my head at her fierce expression.

She sighed and leaned her forehead against the door. “Yeah, I Google him every now and then. He’s living in his parents’ home.”

“In the basement?” I asked.

“No, he inherited it.”

That was a shame. It was a better ending to his story if he was a loser who still lived with his parents. “Do you ever see him around town?”

“It’s a small town.” She grinned. “He crosses the street to get to the other side if he sees me coming.”

I grunted. Good. “I think he might have caused Cammy some problems. I think that’s why she talked about you all the time. You were her hero.” I reached over and stroked her hair. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. You want me to stab a jerk, I’m your girl. So where are we going?” Dawn asked suspiciously when we got off at the Haven exit.

“I’m going to take you to a party. There will be music, dancing, and other people.”

“Sick of me already?”

“Not even remotely. I figured this would be a better start to our evening than the one we just had.”

“So you want to reload?”

I cocked my head at her. “What?”

“Don’t you play computer games?”

“Do I look like I’m ten years old?”

“In some games, if you fuck up you can go back to the last save point and have a do-over.”

“Why didn’t you just say do-over?” She was exasperating.

“Why don’t you tell me where the party is? Am I dressed all right?” Dawn tugged on her dress.

“You look beautiful. It’s at Landscapes, a new gallery by Tantric Books.” I held up a hand. “This is not a sales pitch. I promise.”

“But people will see us there together.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. And? If we’re having a summer fling, the townspeople are going to see a lot of us together.”

“I figured we’d just stay on your boat,” she mumbled.

“We’ll do that too, and probably hang out at your place as well.”

She coughed and sputtered. “My place? It’s really not fit for company.”

“I can send my maid over if you want.”

“You have a maid? Never mind, of course you do.” Dawn rolled her eyes.

I wasn’t sure why that required an eye roll, but she was slowly coming back to her old self. If it took her picking on me to do it, I was willing to take one for the team. “You’ll like this party. The artists hired a DJ to play old-school industrial music, and a lighting crew to show off their paintings.”

“Have you even heard an industrial band before?” Scorn practically dripped from her mouth.

“Play KMFDM mix,” I said into my phone.

She gaped as “Megalomaniac” filled the car, but eased back in her seat. Her foot tapped on the floor to the beat. Unable to help myself, I put my foot down and the car zoomed down the road.

“This isn’t the type of music you usually listen to.”

“I listen to everything,” I said. “Why? What music did you think I liked?”

“I dunno. Classical. Top 40.”

I nodded. “Got playlists for them too. How about you?”

“Do you have to ask?”

“What bands?”

“Dropkick Murphys, Black Flag, Bikini Kill, Creeper . . . and you haven’t heard of a single one of these bands, have you?”

I thought about bullshitting my way through. “Play Dropkick Murphys,” I said instead.

She sang the words to “Blood,” and I wasn’t sure if I should be terrified or turned on. When the song was over I said, “Back to KMFDM playlist.” The Dropkick Murphys weren’t my thing, but I didn’t want that to be a deal breaker for us. We seemed to have some common ground with the industrial stuff.

“Are your parents going to be there?” She frowned.

The thought of my mother and father milling about an art studio clutching a glass of wine and a plate of hors d’oeuvres while Trent Reznor sang about wanting to fuck you like an animal distracted me as I pictured it. “No, it’s probably past their bedtime.”

“It’s not even nine thirty.”

“Exactly. Besides, this isn’t really their scene.”

“You think it’s mine?”

“Humor me. Consider this is our official first date.”

She smiled, enjoying the playlist. I was glad I put it together when Hans, the owner of Landscapes, told me about the party.

“How about your parents? Think they’ll be there?” I teased.

“My mother’s running the light show while my father’s lip-synching to Rob Zombie.” Dawn snorted.

It was nice to see her shoulders relax a bit, and she lost the death grip on her overnight bag. As I parked the car, Dawn seem to gain strength from the familiar surroundings. If I had a conscience, I might feel a pang of guilt for pressuring her to leave. But I didn’t, and I’d rather her leave on her own terms with money in her pocket than get kicked out again—like her father kicked her out.

She didn’t wait for me to open the car door for her, so I hurried to her side so I could take her arm. After a brief glance in Tantric Books’ front window, we continued down the block to Landscapes.

“I’m surprised no one’s called the cops about the noise,” Dawn said as we walked. The sidewalks almost vibrated and the lights flickered like a strobe up ahead.

Slinging an arm around her I said, “Who would complain? All the shops are closed at this hour.”

She made a noncommittal sound, but at least she didn’t toss my arm off. The lights were flashing in a rainbow of colors. I wasn’t sure how this was showing off the oils and watercolors on the wall, but it wasn’t my gallery. I steered Dawn over to the buffet table and we filled our plates with chicken satay, grilled eggplant, and some crab puff thing that melted in your mouth. I was going to have to ask Hans who he got to cater this. I could have eaten the whole tray of crab puffs. Dawn snagged us two glasses of wine from a passing waiter while I got us some seats. The music was deafening, but she seemed to enjoy it, so we ate while we listened, our knees touching.

I thought things were going really well until she tensed next to me and snapped the stem of her plastic wineglass.

“What?” I asked, looking around to see what caught her attention. She was staring at an older man who looked like he was trying to have a good time for the sake of the woman whose ass he was firmly clenching. The woman was squeezed into a dress two sizes too small for her, and her tits were escaping the top. She was probably half the man’s age and seemed in awe of her surroundings.

Dawn stormed over to them while I quickly followed. I had to say, there was never a dull moment with her.

“Hello, Drew,” she drawled out like Seinfeld greeting Newman.

Drew’s eyes grew wide and panicked. He let go of the woman as if her ass burned his fingers. “It’s not what you think.”

Dawn smiled sweetly and I wanted to take a step back. “Where’s Stephanie?”

“She’s home with the kids.”

“I’m sorry she’s missing the party. How about a selfie?” Dawn whipped out her phone.

“Don’t.” Drew held up his hand.

The woman posed, giving the peace sign and duck lips. Dawn snapped a few pictures.

“Please don’t send them to your sister.”

“Don’t send them to your wife?” Dawn emphasized.

I swiveled my head like I was watching a tennis match. I remembered that Stephanie was Dawn’s perfect older sister. The woman next to Drew rolled her eyes and then saw me and smiled.

“Can I talk to you outside? In private?” Drew took Dawn’s arm.

“Yeah, this ought to be good.” Dawn walked out with him without a second glance at me, which left me alone with Titzilla.

“Hi, I’m Becky.”

“With the good hair,” I quipped, referring to the Beyoncé song.

“Thank you,” she gushed.

“I’m Rory. What was that all about?” I pointed to where Dawn and Drew were standing outside. Her hands were on her hips and it looked like she was giving Drew hell.

Becky shrugged. “Don’t know.”

I tried to put it together in my mind. “So did you know Drew was married?”

“Uh-huh, he and his wife have an open relationship.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” I scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t I? She dates other guys on Tuesdays. Drew dates me on Thursdays.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah. Drew’s good to me. I don’t want to be tied down to one person so it works out. He gets to have it all. A wife and kids and all that wholesome shit, and a few girlfriends to keep it interesting. I’m seeing other guys too.” She smiled and put her hand on my arm.

I stepped away. “My girlfriend will probably cut you if she sees that.”

Becky made a face. “I hate the possessive ones. Don’t you?”

“I am the possessive one.”

“To each their own. I can give you my number if you change your mind.”

“No, thanks.”

“Fuck you, then.” She flounced off.

Turning back to the drama outside, I watched Dawn reel in shock and then shake her head in disbelief. Then she turned her back on Drew and made a phone call. She walked away from where I could see her, and Drew came back in.

“How did that go?” I asked him.

“Who are you again?” he sneered.

“Rory Parker. Dawn’s boyfriend.”

Drew blinked at my outstretched hand. He shook it out of habit. “Aren’t you the real estate guy trying to buy her out?”

“That’s my day job.”

“You don’t look her type.” Drew shook his head skeptically.

“She has a type?” I probably shouldn’t be as interested in this as I am.

“She likes dirtbags. You know tattoos, piercings, and bad attitudes.”

I was glad he wasn’t lumping me into a dirtbag category.

“That last guy, Jack, was a piece of work. I’m glad she saw him for the prick he was.”

“I didn’t think Dawn was that close to her family.”

“There’s some bad blood between her and the old man, but Stephanie has always tried to have a relationship with her. It hasn’t been easy. She’s like a feral cat. Never know when she’s going to bite and scratch.”

Dawn looked dazed as she walked in front of the window and came back into the party.

“I’m going to find Becky. It was nice meeting you, Rory.”

“The same.” I met Dawn halfway. “Everything okay?”

“My head just exploded,” she said.

“Want to go somewhere and talk?”

“No, I want to dance.”

I was about to tell her that you couldn’t really dance to this, but she pulled me into a shadowed corner and we jumped around for a bit. She looked like she was taking out some aggression, and I was more than willing to bump into her, especially when it awarded me some killer grinding. When the DJ took a break, she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room and I went in search of those crab puffs.

We had a few more glasses of wine, looked at the paintings and seriolithographs. From the way Dawn was sneering at them, I wasn’t going to buy her one as a remembrance of our first date. We danced some more until the DJ called it quits. In the sudden silence, my ears were ringing and my eyes watered when they put on the lights. Guests surrounded Hans to thank him for the party. He caught my eye and we saluted each other over the heads of the crowd.

“I can’t believe they are selling this shit.” Dawn pointed to a few seascapes.

“Shhh, the artist could be right behind you.”

“I don’t give a fuck. This is paint-by-numbers bullshit. There isn’t any passion in these waves. Just happy little trees and insipid lighting.”

I looked at the painting she was referring to and I couldn’t argue. “He sold three just like it at twenty-five hundred a pop this week.”

Dawn made a face. “That’s because people have no taste.”

“You think Old Man Mack made twenty-five hundred in one month in this store?”

“You tell me. You saw all our credit reports.”

“No. He was barely making rent.”

“But he was doing what he loved. Shouldn’t that count for something?”

I pulled her close to me. “He’s doing what he loves now. Only he doesn’t have to work every day.” I kissed her chin and began to nibble on her jawline.

“How do you know?” She tilted her head to give me better access to her lovely neck.

“Because he used his money to buy a small boat and he sells his birdhouses off it when he’s not fishing.” I obliged her by nipping down her throat.

She gasped and stood up on her tiptoes for more.

This was going to escalate fast, and I didn’t want to fuck her up against the wall or in my car again, so while it was painful, I kissed her nose and touched my forehead to hers. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t tried to kick him out of the docks,” she grumbled, but she didn’t pull away.

“Not my problem. My father might not like Mack’s colorful personality . . .”

Dawn snorted.

“. . . but as long as he doesn’t sell drugs, there’s no town ordinance saying Mack can’t do what he’s doing.”

“How did they get the smell out of this place anyway?” She crinkled her nose and looked around.

“We fumigated.” It needed to be done twice.

“So is that what this all about?” she asked, putting her arms around my neck and swaying against me as if there were music playing.

Distracted, I ran my hands over her curves. “What? Destankifying old fish smells out of the walls?”

“You feel guilty for Cammy, so you think if you pretty up the waterfront all the drugs will disappear?”

I groaned. Did she have bring up Cammy? I should go and see her tomorrow. “No.” Maybe.

“Because you’re making an assumption that they were here in the first place. When your father sent that ringer in to sting me, he got a big surprise when the investigation proved I wasn’t selling drugs. No one you bought out was a dealer.”

“Are you sure about Mrs. O’Toole?” I joked, sliding my hand down to her ass.

“Yarn is a drug, but that’s not what we’re talking about.” She leaned in so her breasts brushed against my chest. “Are you ready to see the truth?”

“Does it involve you naked?” I couldn’t resist a kiss. She tasted like champagne and I wanted to lick every inch of her.

“That comes later. Follow me.”

I’d pretty much follow her in front of a train at that point. I was suddenly all right with a quickie in the back room. She led me to the rear of the gallery and opened the door that was marked Employees Only.

“You sure about this?” I asked, and then did a double take at the miniparty in the back room. The smell of pot slapped me in the face.

“I found them when I went to the bathroom before.” Dawn leaned up against the wall and crossed her arms in front of her.

I recognized a few people from around town, all of them sufficiently wealthy enough not to do recreational drugs in public. If it was only pot, I think I could have just walked away and forgotten what I had seen. But then I saw the cocaine and pills.

Bursting out of the back room, I pulled out my phone and called the police. Dawn followed on my heels and I pushed my way out of the gallery.

“Yeah, I’d like to report that there’s some serious drug usage going on at Landscapes on the town green. There was an after-hours party. And in the back room, the party is continuing. I saw marijuana and cocaine.” I ended the call and pocketed my phone. “Let’s wait in the car.”

Dawn didn’t say a word as we watched for the police to show up. They took their time, but they let themselves in. People fled out the door after backup arrived. We wound up seeing most of the back-room partiers being led off in handcuffs. Hans was one of them.

“So much for Landscapes,” Dawn said, breaking the silence.

“I’ve got a waiting list,” I told her, putting the car in gear and backing out of the parking spot.

“Can I make a recommendation?”

“Sure.”

“Get local artists.”

I snorted. “Like they can afford the rent.”

“Lower the rent, then.”

“Larry would never go for that.”

“You’re obscuring all of the local charm. It’s the reason people come here instead of any other seaside town.”

She had a point. “I’ll see if I can compromise.”

“I’d appreciate it. It would mean a lot to me if you could bring in someone who has a cultural tie with Connecticut. You can still sell high-priced paintings, but maybe take consignments from locals?”

I nodded.

“And can I point out that the drug dealer was the guy you brought in, and the people doing the drugs were your peers and not mine?”

“I was trying to avoid thinking about that.”

“Just remember it when you try and stereotype people into convenient little molds. Redoing the shops isn’t going to stop the drugs. And kicking me out of my store isn’t going to make Cammy better.”

“I know.” I laced my fingers through hers. I didn’t want to talk about this now. “Are you hungry?”

“Are you? You ate your weight in crab puffs.”

“I have surf and turf on board.”

“Oh, and speaking of food . . .” Dawn slugged me in the arm.

“Ow, what the hell was that for?”

“Cauliflower crust pizza? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“How did you . . . ?” I gave an inward groan. Jeannine. I had to remember to keep my father’s doors closed when I was in there. “It’s healthy.”

“Stop fucking around with the pizza!” she yelled.

“The last two stores, aside from yours, that I need to convert are restaurants. We want to expand them and offer a wide arrange of menu items so there’s something for everyone.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “So you’re not getting rid of the fresh tomato slices, garlic, and basil pie?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Tell Jeannine to stop eavesdropping, because she’s not getting the full story.”

“I didn’t hear this from Jeannine.” Dawn folded her arms in front of her and looked away.

“Uh-huh. Anyway, the pizza place is expanding. Same owners. The other one is going to be a fancy sit down place with a Michelin-rated chef, once I get the current owner of the Greasy Spoon to give up his spot and operate a few food trucks instead.”

She opened her mouth to argue and then said, “What type of food trucks?”

“We’re talking about a taco truck, a gourmet grilled cheese truck, and the usual hot dogs, hamburgers, and chicken patties one.”

“You need a dessert truck.”

That was a really good idea. “What type of desserts? We’ve already got an ice cream parlor and chocolatier.”

“Yeah, that’s the only new store I like.” Dawn patted her stomach. “If my jeans don’t fit in the fall, though, I’m sending you a bill for a new wardrobe.”

“I’ll make sure you get enough exercise over the summer.” I slid my hand up her silky thigh. I would have gone higher, but I wanted to do this right.

“Cheesecake on a stick,” she said suddenly.

“What?”

“Like at the Renaissance Faire. You want portable things so they can walk around.”

My mind was still grappling with how they got the cheesecake on the stick without it falling off.

“Frozen treats like Italian ice, and the cheesecake.”

Now I got it.

“I’ve had that dipped in chocolate and it was fabulous,” she said, her pretty eyes lustful.

“I was thinking Italian pastries, but that sounds pretty good too.”

“Both,” she said.

“All right.” I shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ve got dessert on the boat too, you know.”

“I think I’ll have to work up an appetite first.” She leaned in and nibbled on my ear.

“Works for me.”