in her bills, to be vulnerable to the needs of a child, to realize that no matter how hard or how well you worked, it might not be enough.
She'd come here with one goal: to nail the catering contract with Tropicale. No matter what Ingrid said, they needed this contract to keep The Moveable Feast in the black. Pretending to be rich was harder than she'd imagined. Maintaining the illusion around Jake would be difficult, but she would do it. She had no other choice.
After breakfast she changed into a bikini and joined Val and Sandy on deck. The sun was hot. The sea breeze was cool. The company was agreeable. She should have known it was too good to be true.
"G'day, ladies."
Val and Sandy snapped to attention. Megan sniffed and sank lower in her deck chair. Amazing how thick his Aussie accent got when attractive women were involved.
He towered over her, his muscular body throwing her into shadow. "G'day, Meggie."
She stretched languorously, as if she hadn't a care in the world, as if she spent every day basking in the sun. "Move, would you, Jake. You're blocking my sun."
Val, God bless her, didn't miss a beat. "Here," she said, patting the end of her deck chair. "Sit with me."
Jake favored the woman with one of his patented bad-boy grins. Megan could almost hear the hormone levels rising.
"You'll make room for me, won't you, Meggie?"
She ignored him.
He nudged her with his knee. "Shove over."
"The hell I will."
Sandy and Val stared at the two of them in open-mouthed fascination as Jake unceremoniously sat down next to her.
"Maybe we should find someplace else to sit," Sandy said with a glance toward her sister.
"You've got to be kidding," said Val, looking from Megan to Jake then back again. "I'm not leaving until I find out what's going on."
Jake's grin widened. "You want to tell them, Meggie, or should I?"
She considered the wisdom of diving overboard and swimming back to Miami. "Jake and I were married a long time ago. It was a mercifully brief experience."
"You two were married?" Val asked, turning toward Jake.
"I threw her over my shoulder and dragged her off to Vegas to get married."
The two travel agents practically swooned.
"How romantic," Sandy said, turning toward Megan. "Sounds like something from a romance novel."
"He was looking for a green card," Megan snapped. "He would have married anyone with a pulse." An outright lie, but she was beyond caring. Let him worry about it. Their eyes locked. She saw the challenge in his eyes and met that challenge with one of her own. After a moment he shrugged.
"It was fun while it lasted," he said to the two women. He turned to Meggie. "Even you have to admit that."
"No," she said. "It was many things but fun wasn't one of them." Exciting. Heartbreaking. All things in between. But not fun. The differences between them had seen to that.
He engaged Val and Sandy in small talk while Megan lay back in her chair, closed her eyes, and feigned indifference to the whole thing. She'd never survive the next four days if she didn't get a grip on her emotions and regain her focus.
Jake wasn't important.
Their daughter was.
It was as simple as that.
She refused to be drawn into the conversation despite Jake's best attempts and didn't relax until he went off to do whatever it was he did on the Sea Goddess besides play the piano and flirt with female guests.
"Excuse me for saying so," Val declared as soon as Jake was out of earshot, "but that is exactly what I've been looking for all my life."
"Be my guest," Megan shot back. "As far as I know he's footloose and fancy-free."
Val leaned forward. "You wouldn't mind?"
She waved her hand in the air. "I haven't seen Jake since the day I walked out on him. If you want a shipboard wedding, it's fine with me. I'll be your maid of honor."
"I don't know about the wedding," Val said, "but I sure wouldn't mind a wedding night."
#
One hour after they arrived in Las Vegas, Megan and Jake were married at Sweet Sue's Wedding Chapel. Two strangers stood up for them as part of the $150 matrimonial package that included a room for the happy couple.
The Silver Dollar Hotel catered to people with big dreams and small budgets. Positioned between the Little House of Matrimony and Sweet Sue's, it offered king-size water beds, complimentary pink champagne, and a place to be alone.
"Room 775." The bellman swung open the