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“Come on, Drea. It’s good money. These big parties always are. Plus, there’ll be a lot of movie stars there. You’ll get to boast that you’ve met people like Sallie Field and Rob Lowe.”
Andrea looked back at her friend with wary eyes. “I don’t know, Kimmy. Huge parties aren’t usually my thing,” she spoke hesitantly.
“But it’s good money,” Kimmy reiterated.
“Yeah, it is, but usually, these parties get out of hand. You know most of the movie stars are into hard drugs and liquor, and I’m not looking to be around that, not again,” She shivered with the memory of her ex-boyfriend whom she’d followed out here. He’d been into all the drug-infused parties and had taken her to one once. She hadn’t liked it. It was a memory she wished she could erase.
“I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t think anything like that is gonna happen. Angie said this party is like a celebratory gig for some up-and-coming movie director. His latest film was a box office success, so the film crew and actors are just celebrating with him,” Kimmy reasoned.
Andrea still wasn’t convinced.
Her friend sighed. “Look, if we go and you’re not comfortable, we’ll leave. I promise.”
She looked at the seriousness on her friend’s face and felt a prickle of guilt. Kimmy had been the one who’d gotten her the waitressing job back at the pub and had allowed her to stay with her after her breakup. The least she could do was repay her kindness by taking the gig with her.
“Okay. I’ll do it,” she conceded.
“Yay!” her friend exclaimed excitedly as she threw her arms around her.
“Thanks, Drea. You won’t regret it, I promise.”
That’s how they had ended up at the mansion and how she’d ended up meeting David.
She’d been walking with a tray of champagne flutes across the pool deck when she lost her footing and found herself teetering toward the welcoming water of the pool. A strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back as a hand held the tray. Her back was pressed against a firm chest, and the tray was being balanced by a hand corded with muscles.
“Are you all right?”
The smooth baritone of the man’s voice caused her to shiver involuntarily. Andrea found herself nodding instead of responding with words. Her throat felt parched, and the smell of his cologne mixed with his natural male scent tickled her nose and seemed to befuddle her thoughts.
The arm loosened from around her but only to pivot her until she was facing a tall gentleman with the most unusual hair color— ginger— but that somehow was just right, especially complemented by the greenness of his eyes set in a perfectly sculpted face. She swallowed involuntarily.
She saw his lips move, but she couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. She shook her head to clear the fuddle when the man waved a concerned hand before her face.
“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” she asked, her voice coming out short and breathy.
The man smirked, a dimple appearing in his chiseled jawline.
“I was asking if there is someone I need to duel in order to be your permanent knight in shining armor?”
She swooned, her cheeks becoming uncharacteristically red.
Andrea shook her head to clear the memory and further disappointment at how gullible she’d been.
An hour and a half later, she was back where she’d begun her journey. After mounting her bike on her Jeep, she headed for home.
After taking a shower, she decided to pack up her camera and equipment to take with her to Oak Harbor. Going back into the closet, she used the short stepladder to reach one of the top shelves, where she kept the kit with her digital camera and zoom lens. She could see it pushed further to the back of the shelf. On her second try to get it, she hooked her finger around the strap of the bag and pulled. The bag came over the edge of the shelf along with a small safety chest that crashed to the floor, spilling its contents. Stepping down, she leaned over to inspect the items.
Moving aside some old trinkets and souvenirs from her childhood, Andrea reached for the small, partially obscured picture. It was one of her father, a wide grin plastered on his face as he stood in front of his old boat that was docked in their backyard, out on the harbor. Standing on his left was a young Andrea with an equally radiant grin as her blue eyes glinted. She’d only been ten then.
She ran her thumb over her father’s face as a tear slipped from her eye and ran down her cheek.
She remembered they’d gone fishing in the harbor. Her sisters had gone to Uncle Luke, Aunty Maria, and their cousins without her because she had a slight fever. Becky had suggested she stay home. However, within the hour after the others had left, her temperature had returned to normal. Her father decided to take her out on the water to take her mind off the disappointment of not going with her sisters.
It had been one of the best days of her life. They had caught a few yellow perch and one Chinook salmon. Her overall count had only been two small yellow perch, but she held them up proudly while posing beside her father, who had a good catch. The two smiled broadly at her mother, who stood behind the lens, taking the photos.
The memory was such a pure one back then, but as she continued to look at the picture, she recalled that it was also the day she’d learned about her father’s plans for their future, that it didn’t go beyond the scope of them running the family business— the same business that had driven all three girls from home and severed their relationship with their father.
Another sob escaped her lips as she raised her hand to her mouth to stem the sound. She wished she’d been there to at least say goodbye to him, to let him know that she still loved him. All she had now were photos of happy times lost and a lifetime of regrets.
“I’m coming home, Dad. I know you’re not there anymore, but I’m coming home.” As she spoke, she stroked the photo and placed a loving kiss on the glossy image. “We’ll take care of Mom. I promise.”
