Fatal Impulse: A Widow's Web Novel (12 page)

BOOK: Fatal Impulse: A Widow's Web Novel
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16

 

 

P
reparations for the Harbor Fest kept Andi busy that next week. Mildred told Andi how excited everyone was about the expansion of the event to include fine art and, at Andi's suggestion, local writers.

The Chamber rented big tents for the artists to display their wares in the park, and Andi spent all day Friday making sure everything was ready for the vendors to set up. She focused the majority of her time on the main tent with rollup sides, and strung white twinkle lights all around it. Mildred arranged for It's Thyme to cater the event. By the time the shadows lengthened across the park, guests filled the magical setting. Artists and townspeople chatted as they nibbled on lobster rolls and sipped champagne from flutes. 

Mildred approached Andi and said, "You've done a fantastic job with this. Why don't you take a break and get a bite to eat before the lobster rolls are all gone?"

Right on cue, Andi's stomach growled. "Thanks, I think I will."

She looked around and spotted Dana sitting at a round table at the back of the tent. She wove through the crowd, greeting those artists that she recognized. She pulled out a chair at Dana's table. "Looks like it's going to be a success."

Dana nodded and waved towards the crowd. "You've done a great job with this."

"Thanks." A grin spread across Andi's face. "It was a lot of work, and I really only did a little bit of it, but I think it'll be worth it. We have over 75 artists entered."

Dana raised her champagne flute. "To a successful Fest."

"Cheers." Andi raised her own glass and took a sip, then, "You need to find Kate Murphy's booth tomorrow. Her husband, Pete, is a glassblower, and she makes these amazing glass beads over an open flame."

"Sounds neat. I love that kind of stuff." Dana looked over Andi's shoulder and waved. "There's Edward. I'm going to go say hello - be right back."

Andi glanced over her shoulder as Dana greeted her boss. She took a moment to simply revel in the party atmosphere that she'd helped to create. Being part of something bigger than herself always appealed to her. That's why she enjoyed serving on the Library Board so much. Maybe she'd get involved again, now that her life was returning to normal. Then again, none of those women reached out to her after Chad's death. They avoided her like the plague.

She shook it off, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The air was crisp and clean, fragrant with lobster and salt. Andi leaned back, letting her cares and worry float away. She felt lighter than she had in ages.

A shadow fell over her. She opened her eyes to find a dark haired man with piercing blue eyes standing over her. “Are you one of the artists?” His Wranglers were crisp, and his denim shirtsleeves were rolled up, exposing muscled forearms.

“No, I work for the Chamber.” Her eyes wandered to the tanned triangle of skin revealed at his neck by a couple of buttons left undone. She looked down, but this time she didn't have enough hair to hide behind. She took a deep breath, lifted her chin and met his gaze.

He pulled out a chair and sat. "I don't remember seeing you at other Chamber events." His ice blue eyes crinkled when he smiled, exposing nearly perfect teeth. He was what most would call ruggedly handsome, probably in his mid to late thirties. Forties tops.

Her heart thumped in her chest. "I just started recently."

He motioned to the artfully stacked lobster cages that she'd strung with red and white lights. "You've really captured the feel of Buccaneer Bay. That'll make a good impression on all the artists."

She felt her cheeks heat under his praise, and looked down. "Thanks." Her stomach did a little flip. It was too soon to be attracted to a man, but she couldn't deny the tingle she felt in his presence. Besides, she felt as if she had wasted years of her life with Chad.

After they chatted a few more minutes, he leaned forward. "I realize this is a bit forward of me, but could I give you a call sometime?"

She hesitated, then gave him her phone number and he entered it in his phone. He slipped the phone back into its holster just as Dana returned to the table. She nodded at him once, then glanced at Andi with one eyebrow arched. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"Nope." He grinned and pushed to his feet. He glanced at Dana. "Good to see you again."

Dana narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. "And you."

"Such a beautiful night for a party." His manner was easy and relaxed. He hooked Andi's hand with his and brought it to his lips. "You are to be commended on a job well done. Hope the rest of the event is as successful as tonight."

He excused himself. Andi watched him walk away, thinking about Wrangler butts for the first time in years.

 
17

 

 

A
s soon as he disappeared into the crowd, Dana interrogated Andi about her new friend. "How do you know him? Are you going to see him again?" She sounded like a mother, a mother with a teenage daughter.

“Oh, Dana! I don’t even know his name, much less anything else about him! But he’s got a cute butt, doesn’t he?” Laughter erupted like the bubbles in the champagne bottle in the ice bucket and she clamped a hand over her mouth. She felt new, alive. Like a new person.

Dana narrowed her eyes and focused on Andi. “I’m surprised you didn’t recognize him. I figured you knew him. He’s one of the execs with the Chamber. Supposedly he’s a big time public relations guy from Boston originally. Moved here because of his wife.”

Andi shrugged. “I don’t have much to do with the Chamber itself. They just send me my paychecks.”

A frown still creased Dana's forehead and her jaw clenched and unclenched.

“Dana?” One of the great things about Dana was that she was always honest, sometimes brutally so. Whenever a straight answer was required, Andi went to Dana. But this time it looked like she was holding her tongue for some reason. Andi pressed, “What is it?”

She shook her head and glanced around at the crowd. "I really shouldn’t say anything, because I don’t know for sure.”

“Shouldn’t say what?”

Finally, she spit words laced with venom. “Didn't you hear me a minute ago? He’s married.”

It was like getting a bucket of cold water dumped over her head. Andi frowned, determined not to let it get her down, and turned her attention to the artists drifting in and out of the round tables. "It's not a big deal. He was just chatting." Why did this bother her? Chad only been in the ground a month and it was too soon to be looking at men like that anyway. But the possibility of someone exciting and new was, well, exciting. A handsome man approached her and spoke to her like an equal, without a trace of the condescension in his voice.

The good-looking guy didn’t cross her mind again until the following Wednesday. She was cleaning the downstairs bathroom when the phone rang. She ran and picked up on the fourth ring.

She huffed out a breath, then said, “Hello?”

“Hi,” The voice was deep and a little rough, as if he had just woken up. “You probably don’t remember me, but we met at the Harbor Fest.”

Her skin tingled at the memory, “Right, but I don’t think we ever exchanged names.”

“I thought about that after I walked off." He laughed. "Anyway, my name is Paul -  Paul Thompson. And you are?”

“Andrea Adams. But my friends call me Andi.” She caught her reflection in the dresser mirror. A flush of heat colored her cheek like apples. With her new haircut, she looked like an entirely different person. And felt it.

“Does that mean I get to call you Andi?” That gravelly voice gave her chills.

A butterfly did a back flip in her stomach as she walked back into the bathroom. “Sure.” She slid down to the floor and leaned against the cool tile of the tub.

“Good."

Silence hummed between them. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her full lips. "I think we kind of work together."

"Do tell."

"I work at the tourism center, at the Chamber of Commerce." Her job, so low on the totem pole, embarrassed her a bit, but he didn’t react.

"We probably have walked right past each other, then. I do some PR work for the Chamber."

After a few minutes of small talk, he took a deep breath, then plunged into the meat of the call. “I’m thinking about taking a trip up to Witch Hole Lake this weekend to take some pictures for a brochure. Would you like to come along?”

“Who all is going?” The butterfly did a double back flip.

“Just me. And you, if you want to go.”

She closed her eyes and pictured the two of them, alone in the wilds of Maine, on a deserted lakefront. Just the sound of his voice gave her thrills. What would she do in an enclosed space with him?

“Still there?” His voice, barely more than a whisper, gave her chills.

“Yes.” Two sides of her tussled about his offer, until she decided it was best to confront things head on. Her voice came out more abrupt than she intended. “Are you married?”

The phone line hummed quietly as her heart thumped in her chest one, two, three, four times.

Finally, he spoke. “Yes. Yes, I am. But we are separating.”

“Oh.” Oh, God, did that mean he was available? He said separating, present tense - not separated, past tense. She'd have to ask Dana for a judgment call on this one.

He plunged ahead. “I mean, I don’t want you to think this is a date or anything. I just thought it would be fun for you to go along. And it would actually be helpful to have your perspective.”

Of course! It was business, not a date. She squeezed her eyes shut, thankful they weren't face to face. “Oh,” she said again, then cursed herself. He worked with words, and all she could come up with was 'oh.' The internal debate continued, while they talked about photos that would appeal to tourists.

They reached an awkward silence, and he said, "I should let you get back to your day."

The lonely voice in her head won the battle. She swallowed hard and took a tentative step forward. “You know, I’ve been reading about that lake, but I've never been there.”

His voice brightened immediately. “Oh, it’s great. There's a little picnic area and a small beach, all surrounded by woods, with amazing carriage trails. It's an easy hike. We might even get lucky and spot a moose or a bear!”

She laughed at his excitement. “Okay.”

“Okay, as in, okay, you’ll go?” His voice was hopeful.

She nodded, then realized he couldn't see her. “Yes.”

They made arrangements to meet at Caddy's Quick Shop the following morning. Guilt tugged at her, but she squelched it. After they hung up, she sat on the cool tile floor, hugging herself and grinning at her brazenness. Was going with him the right thing to do? Would she be able to do the right thing and keep this at a friendship level?

How horrible would it be if she didn’t?

 
18

 

 

A
ndi called Dana and told her about the call. Her friend's demeanor was a bit cool, but to her credit, she wasn't judgmental.

"I know how difficult it is for you to be alone." Dana kept her tone even. "But, it's only been a month since Chad died."

"I know." Andi winced at the whiny tone in her voice. "And that's why I'm feeling guilty. But I want to put that chapter of my life behind me -- and it's not like this is a date. It's for work."

"Just be careful. Don't jump in to something too fast."

"I won't," Andi assured her. She appreciated her friend's concern. "But I feel like I wasted so much time with Chad. Our marriage ended a long time ago."

"I get it. Really, I do." Dana's sigh reached through the phone. "But what's the deal with his marriage? Did you ask him?"

The corners of Andi's mouth curled up. "Yes, he's separated."
Separating
, a little voice in her head insisted.

The next Saturday morning, she pulled into a parking spot at Caddy's Quick Shop. She ran inside to get a soda. Marilou Young perched on her stool behind the cash register, tapping a stubby yellow pencil on the counter. In all the years Andi'd lived there, she'd never seen Marilou leave her roost. She was old and cranky, and knew every one of her customers by name.

Wally Morton leaned across the counter, his voice sharp. "You tell Burt to make sure he uses new antifreeze when he flushes my radiator this time."

Marilou swiped Wally's keys off the counter. "Will do."

"I'm not kidding around. If I find out he used that old stuff again, I'm going to tell everyone in town. I know that shed in back is full of ancient antifreeze and he's trying to use it up . . . but not in my vehicle!" He spun around and came face to face with Andi. His eyes widened and his cheeks burned. He stammered, "Oh, hello."

"Wally." She smiled at him. "Please say hello to Jennifer for me. And, please, let her know that I'd be glad to help again if the Library Board needs anything."

"Sure. Of course." The older man pushed past her and out the door. Andi stared after him, missing her old life for just a moment. Until she remembered that not a single member of the Library Board she'd served on for two years had even bothered to send her so much as a sympathy card since Chad's death.

Unfazed by Wally, Marge looked up from her crossword puzzle as Andi set her ice cold Coke on the counter. Even after six years, she looked at Andi with suspicion. "That all?"

Andi nodded as she pulled two bills from her purse.

Marge kept her head lowered and peered at Andi over her glasses. "That new Jeep o' yours sucks gas, I betcha."

Andi glanced outside and grinned. "It does, but it's a lot of fun."

"Chrysler is darned proud of them Jeeps. Where'd ya get the money for it?"

Lots of locals were blunt, but this old gal took the cake. She said what everyone else thought but wouldn't voice. Andi said, "My husband died."

Marge's left eye twitched, but she didn't glance away. "Sorry deal, that." She slid the change across the counter, then flicked her eyes back down to her crossword puzzle.

"Mind if I leave it here for a bit? I'm riding somewhere with a friend."

The stout woman behind the counter grunted and nodded. The driveway alarm sounded with a ding and Marge looked past Andi. "Cheap transplant. Foreigners like him come in here and think they own the place, too cheap to pay full price. Know darned good and well he makes more money than us."

Andi shook her head at the older woman's gall, then turned to see Paul as he wheeled into the lot in his yellow Wrangler. She pocketed her change and pushed through the glass door. He had on a t-shirt and a faded denim jacket, and his light brown hair poked out from beneath his Red Sox ball cap. His tan gave him a healthy, natural look, and he swung out of the Jeep with the easy manner of a man comfortable in his own skin.

He greeted her with a light hug and gave her a peck on the cheek, as if they met like that every day. His hand reached for hers with ease and he turned to lead her towards the stack of old lobster traps heaped against the side of an rickety shed where chipmunks scurried about.

“Got to stop and see these little guys before we take off.” His infective enthusiasm charmed her, and the warmth of his hand enveloping hers was soothing and comfortable. “I feed them every time I stop in here. Check this little fella out.”

He squatted down and pointed at a tiny chipmunk, chubby and bright-eyed, his little tail flipping up and down. He sat at the very edge of the pile, torn between curiosity and fear. Andi’d never seen a baby chipmunk before, and thought he was about the cutest thing she’d ever seen.

Paul reached in his pocket and pulled out some sunflower seeds, then opened her hand and poured some seeds in. He squatted and whispered, "Hold your hand out and keep still."

She knelt and extended her hand, not daring to even breathe. The little creature crept forward, his nose twitching. Finally, his tiny little feet tickled her fingers as he grabbed a seed, then retreated to the safety of a trap. She giggled and Paul smacked her lightly on the arm. "See there! He trusts you."

She flinched at the sudden touch and her laughter died as memories of Chad flitted through her mind, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were glued to the baby chipmunk perched just out of reach. He gushed, “Awesome, huh?”

“Yes – awesome!” She laughed, determined to push thoughts of Chad away. Just then, Burt Davis charged out the back door of the auto shop and scared the little chipmunk away.

The old mechanic glared at them as he jerked open the door of the old shed, sending little chipmunks scurrying for cover. Andi stared at the jumble of boxes and cartons stacked haphazardly in the building, amazed that nothing fell on Burt's head as he scrounged through the mess.

Paul pushed to his feet, grabbed her hand and led her towards his Jeep. “We can take mine this time, and we’ll take yours next time. Deal?” He opened the half door for her.

“Deal.” She decided to just go with it. The sun shone brightly, the crisp salty air reminded her of how lucky she was to live on the ocean, and the gorgeous guy paying attention to her made her feel young again. But was she being unfaithful to Chad? She shivered involuntarily.

He slid into the driver’s seat and looked at her. He asked, “You cold? There’re jackets in the back seat if you need one.”

“No, I’m fine. Just had a chill.”

He reached into the back seat, leaning towards her. His chest brushed her arm. She stiffened at the casual touch and swallowed hard.

He sat back in his seat and handed her a pink ball cap. "Here, you might want to wear this. With the top off, it gets pretty windy."

She accepted the cap and settled it on her head. The new pixie cut would be perfect for Jeeping.

Bonus
.

The rest of the day passed like a dream. She couldn’t have asked for a more perfect outing. They chatted as they drove north on Paradise Hill Road. Tall cedars stretched up on both sides of them. He wheeled into the concrete lot and parked far away from the visitors center.

He pulled a small cooler and a blanket from the back of the Jeep. She took the throw and folded it over one arm. He grabbed her free hand and led her to the start of the carriage trail. The flat, easy trail led them to picturesque Witch Hole Pond in minutes. Several bicycles passed them, and they met a handful of other hikers.

He stepped up onto one of the large flat rocks that lined the trail. "Do you know what we call these?" He held out his hand.

She took his hand and let him pull her up beside him. "No, what?"

"Rockefeller's Teeth." He hopped off and pulled her towards him, away from the trail. He led her along a barely noticeable path until they reached an outcropping of rock smoothed by centuries of harsh Maine winds.

The blue sky opened above them as the trees thinned a bit. A beaver splashed into Witch Hole Pond, then swam away, leaving a V-shaped wake behind him. Andi's mouth gaped open. "This is absolutely enchanting. I've never seen anything like it." Lily pads nearly covered the lake, and two more beavers scurried around their dam on the north side of the pond, oblivious of their audience.

He helped her spread the blanket out and they settled on it. They nibbled on ham and cheese sandwiches and he offered her an orange soda. With a grin, she accepted the aluminum can. "This reminds me of being a kid."

He popped open one for himself. "Does me, too."

He leaned towards her as they talked, interested, and drew her out with questions. She found herself telling him about her childhood, pets, and family. After she tucked her trash in the paper sack Paul had brought along, she stretched her legs out and leaned back. The lichen covered rock was smooth and cool under her touch. She let her head fall backward and watched the wispy clouds drift across the blue sky.

He took a long drink of soda, then asked, "How do you like your job at the welcome center?"

She ran her tongue over her teeth before answering. "I like it. I knew there were a lot of tourists in the summer, but never realized just how many until I started working there."

He gazed out at the blue-green water stretching to the south. "We need to do a better job of catering to the upper class tourists. More money there."

She thought about the harried families who stopped in at the center. "I don't see many upper class tourists."

"There used to be lots of them. You know, the Harbor Fest was a great start, with the addition of fine art."

Her heart swelled under his praise. Chad had never thought her capable of anything, never noticed all that she did. The wind picked up and ruffled her short hair. It still felt new.

"I'd love to see Buccaneer Bay do something more high class, like lunch on the lawn at Jordan Pond. I'll take you there sometime." Paul squinted as he studied her. “So, what do you really want to do?”

She blinked and cocked her head to one side. “What do you mean?”

“Surely you want to do something else – I mean, usually the job at the welcome center is filled by retired folks who just need a time filler."

She stiffened, “I know it’s nothing big, but it pays the bills.”

He reached over and patted her thigh. “No, don’t take that the wrong way. I’m not putting you down. See, I'm an executive with the Chamber of Commerce and want to make sure we're not wasting talent.”

She laughed it off, but her skin tingled where he had touched her. Maybe he could help her get a better job. With bills stacking up, a raise would sure help.

Paul studied her for a moment and seemed to recognize the change in her. He dropped the subject and launched into a story about a local businessman. "At one of my first big events, we hosted a reception for a businessman visiting from the Middle East. I sent an email to everyone who was invited with a list of etiquette tips, but one pillar of our community - I won't say who - didn't read the email. When I introduced him to the visiting dignitary, he extended his left hand."

Andi's eyebrows arched, "And that's bad?"

Paul leaned towards her and confided, "In their culture, the left hand is reserved for, well, hygiene."

Her eyes widened when she put two and two together, "Oh, no! How offended was the man from the Middle East?"

"Very. He refused to shake hands and turned his back on the American."

"Ouch." Andi cringed and shook her head. It was good to hear about someone else’s screw ups for a change. A shadow passed over them and she looked up at the dark clouds rolling in over the lake. "Maybe we should pack up and get those pictures taken."

He followed her gaze and nodded. They worked together to clean up then walked down the carriage path to the Jeep. She held the passenger seat up for him so he could put the cooler back in the Jeep. His arm brushed against her breast, and she felt a tingle all the way to her toes. She slid into the seat and he leaned close, his ice blue eyes intense as the Maine sky on a summer day, and she felt sure he could see all the hopes and fears and secrets hidden deep within her own. His lips brushed her lightly and her heart raced. She pressed her hand against his chest, and his heart pounded just as hard as hers.

He pulled back and smiled and, just like that, she fell for him.

And hated herself for doing so.

Fact was, she didn't want to be alone. Even being married to someone like Chad was preferable to being alone. But think how good it could be with someone like Paul, a polite man who knew how to treat a woman.

They walked around and took quite a few pictures. The two worked well together. She pointed out things that appealed to her as an outsider, and he found creative ways to change the perspective. By the time they were finished, they were both satisfied with the results.

As they drove south towards Buccaneer Bay, the trees closed in around them, sometimes nearly blotting out the sky completely. As they neared town, she glanced over at him and said, "What about your wife?"

His head swung towards her. "I'm sorry?"

Her fingertips brushed her lips as she thought of the kiss. "You told me you and your wife are separating."

BOOK: Fatal Impulse: A Widow's Web Novel
2.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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