hour in the shower. And yet he still hadn’t told her what had had upset him so much about the phone call with his sister, and she didn’t want to whine or beg.
Maybe he didn’t trust her, or maybe it wasn’t that big a deal. But, Lord, he’d cried. Something had upset him pretty badly.
Jayna?
She crushed the name when it popped into her head. There was no room for ex-girlfriend jealousy in her head or heart. For crying out loud, David was living with her and Clay wasn’t acting jealous. But he had gotten off the phone pretty worked up for sex.
No. Don’t think that way.
He popped open the door and reached in for the cake. “You did an amazing job on this, Lacey.”
“I hope they like it. My business has come to a screeching halt since the storm.” She stepped down from the running board and took the cake he held. “Be right back.”
“Take your time.”
So he could call…
Don’t go there, Lacey. Don’t make excuses where none exist. She headed up to the house gripping her ruffle cake with care, grateful when Julia opened the front door and she didn’t have to knock.
“Hey, Lacey,” Julia said. “How’d the cake come out?”
Lacey looked down at the nest of chocolate ribbons on the cake tucked in a topless box. “Pretty good, I think.”
“Wow, would you look at that?”
Smiling at her creation, Lacey lifted it higher. “Yep, it’s nice.”
“I meant that guy outside.”
Lacey followed Julia’s gaze, catching a glimpse of Clay leaning against the truck, on the phone. “Oh.” She laughed. “That’s Clay. My…” Lover. Boyfriend. Main squeeze. “Architect.”
“He can build me a house anytime.”
“Lacey’s not building a house,” a woman around the corner said. Paula Reddick stepped into the entryway, as tiny and trim as she’d been when she’d taught PE at Mimosa High. “She’s building a posh resort.”
“It’s not…” Yes, it was. Posh and a resort. “It’s still in the planning stages, as you know. Hi, Paula.”
Paula gave a quick smile. “Don’t worry, Lace. I like the idea. Charity Grambling may kill me in my sleep, but you have my vote.”
“Thanks,” she said, handing the cake to Julia. “Keep it chilled until the shower tomorrow.”
“Let me go get your check, Lacey.”
When she left, Paula moved closer to the front door, peering over Lacey’s shoulder. “Did you guys work out his shady past?”
“It’s not that shady,” Lacey replied. “He’s clean.”
“Looks dirty.” Paula grinned. “In a fun way.”
Lacey just laughed softly. Oh, if Paula only knew how Lacey had spent her afternoon.
“What’s your plan to counteract Charity’s flyer campaign?”
Lacey drew back, surprised. “What flyer campaign?”
“Get thee into town, m’dear. You’re up against a street team of people trying to stop you before you start. They’re all under her wrinkled old thumb.”
Lacey sighed as Julia returned with a check. “Thanks for the business, Julia. And for the warning, Paula. Guess I’ll head into town and see how bad the damage is.”
As she came out, Clay hung up the phone and opened the door for her. “All set?”
“Maybe not yet. We have to head into town now.”
On the way there she explained what Paula had told her, zeroing in on a bright yellow flyer with bold black letters as soon as they got to Ms. Icey’s, an ice cream parlor on the outskirts of Mimosa Key’s undersized downtown.
SAVE MIMOSA KEY!
Stop all zoning modifications!
Be heard at the Town Council meeting on September 15 at 10:00 AM!
Don’t let progress replace pristine!
“Pull over, Clay. I’ll grab it.” She climbed out of the car, marching into the store to ask Bernadette Icey to take it down, barely noticing a group of teens at a corner table.
“Mom!” Ashley’s voice broke through the laughter.
Lacey glanced at the group, all of their faces unfamiliar to her but one. “Ashley, what are you doing here?”
She popped up and threaded through a few empty tables to get to Lacey. “We just came in for ice cream. What are you doing here?” Her eyes were bright, her color high. She definitely hadn’t been expecting Lacey to walk in.
Lacey looked at the kids again. “Who are they?”
“Just my new friends. Some of them live down south near us, so I’m getting to know some other people.”
“Where’s Meagan?”
“Oh, Mom, Meagan is turning into such a—”
“Is that Tiffany Osborne?”
Ashley hushed her, blocking the view. “Mom, you don’t have to say her name like that. She’s not some kind of pothead.”
But Lacey wasn’t sure of that. “I have to get that flyer in the window down. Is Bernadette