Sand Castle Bay Page 14

  Boone could hardly argue with Tommy’s instincts, though they certainly didn’t help him out of this particular jam. “I’ll find something for you to do,” Boone promised. “Or maybe you could help Pete with something.”

  B.J. didn’t look convinced. “Like what?”

  “We’ll ask him when we get there,” Boone said, since no immediate ideas came to mind.

  “No way,” B.J. protested. “Once you get there, you won’t want to leave, no matter how boring it is.”

  “But you have that game you insisted was the best thing ever,” Boone said in frustration. “This is exactly the reason I bought it for you, so you’d have something to keep you from being bored.”

  “It’s not as much fun as real work, like the kind they give me at Castle’s,” B.J. argued. “And Emily needs my help. You said so yourself.”

  Boone conceded defeat, drove right on by his restaurant and headed north to Castle’s.

  “What exactly did Emily let you do yesterday to help her?” he asked his son, curious to know what B.J. found so fascinating.

  “She showed me this cool computer program she uses to decide on paint colors and stuff,” B.J. explained. “She thinks Castle’s should be a sky blue color with sunshine yellow trim, instead of all dark and dreary the way it is now.”

  Boone hid a smile. “I assume that’s a direct quote, the dark and dreary part?”

  B.J. nodded. “She called it something else, too. Rus...something.”

  “Rustic?” Boone suggested.

  “That’s it,” B.J. confirmed. “I wasn’t sure what it meant, so that’s when she said dark and dreary, kinda like a cave.”

  Boone could only imagine how Cora Jane would react to that comparison. “And did you happen to hear what Ms. Cora Jane said when Emily proposed that idea?” Boone asked. Despite his own less-than-subtle attempts to get Cora Jane to at least listen to Emily, he had a feeling Cora Jane still wasn’t going to be open to such a dramatic change from basic beige walls and all that dark brown wood she thought gave the restaurant its beachside character.

  “She says it’ll be all prettified over her dead body,” B.J. mimicked, grinning. “What’s prettified mean?”

  “Something a girl would pick out,” Boone assumed. “And how did Emily handle that remark?”

  “She called her a stubborn old coot,” B.J. reported. “Ms. Cora Jane just laughed. She said it took one to know one.”

  Wasn’t that the truth? Boone thought as he made the turn into the Castle’s parking lot. With the main dining room back open, the restaurant appeared to be jammed. Apparently people didn’t care that there there’d been water damage and a layer of sand on the floor a few days before or that there was a hint of damp mustiness lingering in the air. The air-conditioning was back on, the place was drying out, the burgers were as good as always and the beer cold.

  He was about to open the door, when Emily nearly knocked him down with it. “You talk some sense into her,” she said as she sailed past. “I give up.”

  Boone instructed B.J. to go inside and went after Emily, who was crossing the road and heading for the dunes. Two cars had to hit their brakes to avoid her.

  With no death wish of his own, Boone allowed the traffic to pass, then caught up with her at the water’s edge. He was half surprised she hadn’t walked right out in it, clothes and all. Maybe she should have. It might have cooled her temper.

  “Want to talk about it?” he asked, keeping his hands shoved in his pockets to avoid reaching for her. She looked as if she might shatter completely at any offer of comfort.

  “What’s to talk about? I’ve shown her a dozen different ways to bring the restaurant up-to-date, to give it a little style, and she’s blown off every one of them. She doesn’t seem to realize I actually know what I’m doing. People pay me big money for my ideas.”

  “Maybe she thinks those ideas are just right for a fancy restaurant in Beverly Hills, but not so great for a casual place on the beach in North Carolina,” he suggested carefully. “It’s not as if Castle’s needs to boost business. There’s a standing-room-only crowd in there right this second.”

  The look she gave him cut right through him, probably damaging a couple of vital organs.

  “Don’t you think that perhaps the reason I’m successful is because I know how to research customer expectations, how to create the right atmosphere for the right place?” she asked irritably. “And who knows this restaurant and these customers even half as well as I do? I started waiting tables here as soon as I could carry a tray.”

  “Hated every minute of it, as I recall,” he said with a smile.

  “That’s beside the point.” She gave him a look filled with frustration. “I’m not telling her to bring in leather settees and mood lighting, for heaven’s sake. I’m just trying to give the place some beachfront charm. It’s depressing in there.”

  “Rustic?” Boone suggested.

  She gave him another of those piercing looks. He shrugged. “B.J. mentioned it.”

  “Okay, yes. Rustic. Would you tell me why she couldn’t keep that dining room closed another couple of days until it aired out? I’m sure it’s only because she didn’t want to lose the business.”

  “Maybe it’s because she knew there would be folks in town counting on her,” Boone suggested gently. “Emily, you know how many regulars that place has. It’s not even about the tourists, though they keep us all going. It’s about the locals who like to gather there to see their neighbors, catch up on what’s going on around here. Far more than my restaurant, Castle’s is an important part of the community.”

  She frowned. “Okay, maybe. But what is so wrong about sprucing the place up?”

  “Maybe it’s more about the timing,” he suggested, though he was convinced of no such thing.

  Emily rolled her eyes. “If I thought that’s all it was, I could get this in motion and she could have the work done when the tourist season slows down, but trust me, she’ll have none of that, either.”

  Boone allowed himself a small smile at the annoyance in her voice. He actually understood the point she was trying to make about bringing Castle’s interior up-to-date. He’d paid an expert much like Emily to design the ambiance for the interiors of the Boone’s Harbor restaurants to be inviting and classy. He hadn’t wanted stuffed fish and decoys hanging on the walls. He’d wanted a look that would work as well in a city like Charlotte as it would here on the coast.

  “Maybe you should give Cora Jane a little credit,” he suggested mildly. “She seems to know what her customers want. She’s been in business here a lot of years.”

  “I’m just saying I think they’d like it even better if we brought some of that sunshine inside,” she grumbled.

  “Thus the blue paint and sunshine yellow trim,” he said. “B.J. mentioned that, too.”

  “Did he also tell you Grandmother’s reaction?”

  Boone barely managed to hide a grin. “He did.”

  “Yeah, well, she could get her wish. Maybe I will do it over her dead body. Maybe one of these days, if she hasn’t already driven me into an early grave, I’ll come back here after she’s gone and paint the whole place in the wildest colors imaginable. A brilliant flamingo pink and blazing fire engine red come to mind. How’s that for a shocker of a combination?”

  It took everything in him to bite back the chuckle that threatened. “It’ll be an attention-getter, all right. And then what? You harboring some desire to run a restaurant that’ll keep you tied to this place?”

  “Hardly. Samantha, Gabi and I will sell it for top dollar.” She glanced at him. “Maybe even to you. That is what you’re angling for, isn’t it? To get your hands on this location?”

  The camaraderie of the moment disappeared in a heartbeat. Boone froze at her words. That she could think such a thing, even f
or a single second, stunned him.

  “Since I know you’re upset, I’ll let that ridiculous remark pass.” He leveled a look into her eyes. “You should know me better than that, Em. You really should.”

  He turned on his heel and walked away, seething. Once in a while, he felt a hint of the old connection between the two of them, a suggestion of the us-against-the-world mentality that had kept them together as teens. Right this second, though, he realized they’d never been further apart.

  * * *

  Emily stared after Boone, feeling small and spiteful and mean. She’d hurt him just then. Maybe she’d meant to do it, even, but when her barb had struck its mark, she’d immediately wanted to take it back. He’d come after her just now, listened to her complaints, tried to offer comfort, and how had she returned the favor? By suggesting he had underhanded motives for helping out her grandmother. Even now, after seeing the bond between the two of them, she’d been suspicious and unreasonable.

  Sure, it had been a stupid, knee-jerk remark because she was hurt and angry, a suggestion she honestly didn’t believe, but thinking it, much less saying it aloud, had been uncalled for. Boone didn’t deserve that from her.

  Of course, admitting the mistake to herself was one thing. Apologizing to Boone was quite another. She needed to do that, and sooner rather than later.

  Uttering a sigh of resignation, she put her sneakers back on and crossed the street, hoping to make amends. Instead, she was just in time to see Boone and B.J. leaving the parking lot. Boone didn’t even glance her way, though B.J. waved excitedly and called her name.

  She gave B.J. a wave in return and stared after Boone with regret, then slipped into the restaurant kitchen through a side door. She found her grandmother at the stove dishing up bowls of crab soup. Cora Jane glanced up at her.

  “I could use your help in there,” her grandmother said as if they hadn’t been arguing less than an hour ago. “We’re swamped, inside and out. Gabi and Samantha are trying to keep up with the regular wait staff, but we could use another pair of hands.”

  Emily nodded and grabbed an apron and an order book. Though waiting tables was only a distant memory, she’d spent enough summers helping out here to know the drill. As Boone had said, she hadn’t liked it, but she had mastered it, because it was her nature to do everything well or not do it at all.

  Even as that thought struck her, it occurred to her that maybe that’s why she’d left Boone, because she’d feared that a real, lasting relationship was something she’d never do well. She’d have to give that some thought later. Right now there were customers waiting. She headed for the dining room.

  “When things quiet down, you and I will talk,” her grandmother said as she passed by.

  “About my ideas?” Emily asked, unable to hide the hopeful note in her voice.

  “About Boone,” Cora Jane retorted.

  Emily stilled. “Not up for discussion.”

  “We’ll just see about that,” Cora Jane said stubbornly, then she sashayed by and disappeared into the dining room where the noise level defied further conversation.

  Just as well, Emily thought as she followed. She doubted there was one single thing Cora Jane could say about Boone Dorsett that she had any desire to hear. And whatever lecture Cora Jane had in mind was nothing compared to the one already echoing in Emily’s head.

  11

  For once B.J. was silent as Boone sped away from Castle’s. Boone couldn’t recall ever being quite so angry and disillusioned, not even when Emily had walked out of his life ten years ago.

  When his cell phone rang just after he sped out of the Castle’s parking lot, he hit the connection for the hands-free device. “What?” he snapped.

  “You sound cheery,” Ethan Cole said.

  “It’s not the best time.”

  “Then I’m really glad I called. I wanted to remind you to bring B.J. by the clinic so I can take a look at those stitches. Maybe I can cure whatever ails you at the same time.”

  “I doubt there’s a medicine on the market strong enough for that,” Boone said. “We’re only a few blocks away. Is now a good time?”

  “Sure. If you’re close, swing on by.”

  “Thanks, Ethan.”

  B.J. sat up a little straighter. “Was that Dr. Cole?”

  Boone nodded.

  “Is he going to take my stitches out?”

  “More than likely,” Boone confirmed.

  “Is it going to hurt?”

  “Maybe just a little,” Boone told him..

  “Then I want Emily to be there,” B.J. said, his eyes filling with tears.

  Boone stared at him in shock. “You were so brave when Dr. Cole put them in. Everybody told me so. Why would you be scared to have them taken out?”

  “You said it might hurt.”

  “Not as much as when he put them in,” Boone assured him.

  More tears spilled down B.J.’s cheeks. “I want Emily.”

  Boone fought to hide his frustration. This was one time he just couldn’t give in, no matter how much B.J. thought he needed Emily. He told himself B.J. would be fine. Even if Boone happened to be a mess at the moment, Ethan surely knew how to comfort a scared kid.

  “Not this time, buddy.”

  “Why not?” B.J. cried. “Are you mad at her? Is that why we had to leave Castle’s?”

  “B.J., you and I were doing just fine before Emily came to town. We’re a team, right?”

  “I want Emily,” B.J. repeated, crying in earnest now.

  His tears tore at Boone’s heart, but this time he refused to give in. He pulled into the lot at the emergency clinic, then opened the door for B.J., who refused to budge.

  “To the count of three, buddy,” Boone warned. “If you don’t get out on your own, I’ll have to carry you inside like a baby.”

  B.J. regarded him with shock, but he did get out. “I hate you,” he said as he stormed past.

  Boone stared after him, his heart aching. It wasn’t the first time those words had been thrown in Boone’s face, but they never failed to devastate him.

  Inside the clinic, Ethan gave Boone a curious look, but followed B.J. into the examining room. Boone joined them, standing just inside the door as B.J. scowled at both of them, his arms folded across his heaving chest.

  “How you doing, B.J.?” Ethan asked, his voice calm and steady.

  “Okay.”

  “Ready for these stitches to come out?”

  “No.”

  Ethan looked startled, then glanced at Boone.

  “I warned him it might hurt a little,” Boone admitted.

  Ethan smiled. “What do dads know?” he said. “Yours was probably a wimp, but I know how brave you are. You didn’t even shed a tear when I put the stitches in. I’m betting you won’t even feel this.”

  B.J. watched him suspiciously but didn’t put up a fuss as Ethan went to work.

  “See, I told you so,” Ethan said when he was done. “And the scar is hardly noticeable. A nice job, if I do say so myself.”

  B.J. studied his forearm. “Will the scar go away before school starts?”

  “Probably not entirely,” Ethan said, smiling. “You planning to show it off to your friends?”

  “Uh-huh,” B.J. said. “Stitches would have been even better.”

  “Yeah, well, leaving those in longer might have been a bad idea,” Ethan told him. “Why don’t you go out to the front desk and ask for a piece of candy? Your dad will be right out.”

  B.J. ran out of the examining room without looking back.

  Boone shifted his weight as Ethan studied him.

  “Mind telling me why you were in such a mood when I called? And why you managed to scare B.J. to death before you brought him in here?”

&nbs
p; “I was just trying to be honest with him about the chances that it would hurt to have the stitches removed,” Boone said defensively. “Ever since Jenny didn’t come home after I promised him she’d get better, total honesty is my new policy.”

  “An excellent theory, but as you’ve just seen, it can be tough on an eight-year-old.”

  “Yeah, I get that now,” Boone said.

  “Was there something else?” Ethan asked with the perceptiveness of an old friend.

  “He insisted I call Emily to meet us here and I refused.”

  Ethan smiled. “How did I know Emily had something to do with it? You two have a fight?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a fight,” Boone said. “She said something completely uncalled for about my motives for being around Cora Jane, and I walked out.”

  Ethan shook his head. “When are you two going to stop pretending that you’ve moved on and just accept that you’ll never be totally happy unless you get back together?”

  “When hell freezes over comes to mind,” Boone said. “You’re wrong, Ethan. I have moved on. Aren’t this wedding ring I’m wearing and B.J. proof of that?”

  “The wedding ring is a defense mechanism, in my opinion,” Ethan said. “Jenny’s been gone awhile. You could take it off and no one would think less of you. Not that I’m an expert in these things.”

  Boone regarded him with disdain. “Since you won’t even date because the last woman you cared about left you emotionally scared for life, you’ll have to pardon me if I don’t take your advice seriously.”

  “Actually not dating has left me a lot of time to observe other couples,” Ethan countered, essentially confirming Boone’s accusation that he wasn’t in the game himself. “I’ve picked up some useful information about the stupid things people do in the name of love. I’m more than happy to share them with you, if you’re in the mood to toss a couple of steaks on the grill tonight.”

  Boone wasn’t sure he was in the mood for advice, well-meant or not, but he wasn’t looking forward to his own company, either.