friends’ friends. She promoted bonafide artists.
“Stacia’s arranging a show for Carin next month,” Hugh said. There was a note of pride in his voice. “In New York City.”
“I’ll have to go.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Carin said, just as she had before. She actually looked embarrassed.
“The hell it isn’t,” Hugh objected. “It’s fantastic. You don’t get a one-woman show in a New York gallery if you’re second rate.”
“No, you don’t,” Nathan said. “Congratulations.”
He’d known about her shop. Dominic had mentioned it after he’d visited the cay, months ago. “Arts and crafts stuff. Mobiles, seashells, dust catchers.”
“Wonderful pieces,” Sierra had countered, giving her husband a playful swat. “You philistine. She has one-of-a-kind pieces. Not touristy shlock at all. Come see the painting I bought.”
She’d dragged Nathan into the living room of their Fifth Avenue apartment and pointed to a vibrant, primitive beach scene that complemented the paintings his mother had done even as it outshone them. Whoever had painted it was no amateur.
“Carin painted it,” Sierra had informed him.
Nathan had admired it, but he hadn’t studied it long. He’d been too blown away by Dominic’s other news—that Carin was on Pelican Cay, that she’d been there for the past twelve years, and that she had a daughter called Lacey who looked just like him.
Now he thought about Carin’s talent and Carin’s promise—and how she’d buried it for all these years in Pelican Cay. Did she regret it? He certainly couldn’t tell from her expression.
“So we might get to go to New York!” Lacey said eagerly.
“Not likely,” Carin said. “New York isn’t exactly my cup of tea.”
“But I’ve never been there,” Lacey argued.
Even Hugh argued. “You have to go. It’s not every day you get a show like that. Besides, Stacia wants you there.”
“I know, but—”
“I’ll go with you. Lend moral support,” he promised her and reached out to squeeze her hand.
Carin blinked, as if surprised at the offer. But then she smiled. “Maybe.”
“Goody!” Lacey cheered.
“Peachy,” Nathan growled under his breath.
“I beg your pardon?” Carin looked down the table at him.
He shoved his chair back and said through his teeth, “I said I think I’ll bring out some fresh peaches for dessert.”
He didn’t have any peaches, but he banged around the kitchen until he felt less likely to rip Hugh McGillivray’s head off. And then he went back with a couple of fresh pineapples and offered them. “Sorry. Fresh out of peaches. This is all I could find.”
“I don’t need anything else. It was a lovely dinner. Thank you.” Carin sounded like the poster girl for Miss Manners.
“Yeah, it was great,” Hugh agreed. “Maybe not as great as whatever Carin would have cooked.” He gave her a wink and a grin, then looked back at Nathan. “But it was a pleasure to meet you.”
Nathan wasn’t going to say it had been a pleasure to meet Hugh. “Glad you could come.” That was at least close to the truth. It was, as his father always claimed, smart to size up the competition.
Carin stood up. “We should be going.”
Nathan glanced at his watch. “It’s not even nine-thirty.”
“Some people got up extremely early and had a long exhausting day.” Carin glanced at Lacey, who was trying her best to swallow a yawn.
“I’m fine!” Lacey protested when she could open her mouth without her jaw cracking. “I’m not tired!”
“I didn’t say you were. It happens that I had a very long day.” Carin yawned, too.
Nathan wasn’t sure if she was faking it or not. Maybe she figured she’d been polite long enough. Maybe now she was desperate to get back to her place, get Lacey to bed, then have mad passionate sex with Hugh McGillivray.
Nathan’s jaw clenched so tight that he could feel a muscle pulse in his temple. He drew in a deep lungful of air and let it out jerkily. “Whatever you want.”
Carin was still smiling her poster girl smile. “I think we’ll just go on, then. Unless you would like us to stay and help clean up the dishes?”
“No.”
Wouldn’t want you to miss your date for hot sex by helping with the washing up.
His terse reply caused Carin to blink, as if she didn’t have a clue what he thought.
Hugh stood up quickly and eased Carin’s chair back for her. Then he turned to Lacey. “C’mon, Lace. Time to hit the road.”
Like he was her father, Nathan thought, his fingers balling into fists.
Lacey sighed, but she muffled another yawn, which meant, Nathan realized, that she really was tired.
“Get your fishing stuff,” Carin directed,