In the Cards Read online

  Lindsey

  I return to the pool to find my glamorous mother sipping a margarita and flipping through Town & Country. Between her looks and her attitude, it’s like she’s found the secret to gliding through life and bending it to her will. Of course, I inherited none of her poise or confidence. All of my attempts to mimic her flop miserably, as just demonstrated on the beach.

  “Why the long face, Lindsey?” Her radar’s flawless even when she doesn’t give me her full attention.

  “No reason . . . a little hot and bored, I guess.”

  I lie, unwilling to admit the truth about my failed attempt to seduce the hottie bartender. Mom wouldn’t approve of him. Then again, maybe she’d understand on some level, given he resembles Gabriel Aubry. No doubt his intense green-flecked hazel eyes, sexy smile, and dimples catch everyone’s attention.

  I’ve never seen such a beautiful man, not in real life, anyway. His Southern accent and the gravelly quality of his voice are unlike those of the boys back in Connecticut. The way he punctuates his lazy speech with intentional pauses sets me on edge, too.

  Sadly, I obviously don’t inspire a similar response in him.

  I’ve wasted dozens of hours daydreaming about heated, stolen kisses—maybe a bit more. I know a vacation fling isn’t a big adventure by most standards, but in my overscheduled, overmonitored life, it would’ve been pretty exciting. A secret rebellion. A chance to experience the kind of power my best friend Jill and my mom seem to have when it comes to guys.

  But as usual, I blew it. No chance I’ll leave here with any juicy scoops to share with my friends.

  “The men should be back from golf soon.” Mom’s voice yanks me from my musings. “Why not go freshen up?”

  “What time’s our dinner reservation?” I ask.

  “Eight,” she says. “We’re meeting the Campbells at seven thirty for cocktails.”

  “Okay, see you later.”

  Back at the bungalow, I lie across my bed. While staring at the white, stippled ceiling, I consider tonight’s party and wish more of my friends were here with me. As if on cue, my phone rings and Jill’s number pops up on the display.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I ask.

  “Just checking in before I head out. Rick Dawson’s parents will be in the city all night, so he’s having a party. Too bad you’ll miss it. Of course, I’d be jealous of your vacation if you weren’t stuck there with Dave Campbell.” Jill snickers.

  The Campbell family met mine at our country club. Their son, Dave, is my age. Dave’s plain—average height and build, mousy-brown hair and eyes—but he’s a nice, mellow guy. I don’t mind that he’s not considered cool back home. He likes hanging out with me, which is an ego boost, and he’s always polite without being a kiss-ass. I know a few of Jill’s male friends who’d be worse to vacation with, but I don’t mention it to her.

  “I guess being nicer isn’t your New Year’s resolution, is it?” Jill can be a bit bitchy, but she’s a loyal friend and I kind of like living vicariously through her boldness. “Anyhow, there is a totally hot bartender here. Of course, he’s a few years older.”

  “Really?” Jill’s tone conveys heightened interest. “Have you talked to him?”

  “Unfortunately.” I grimace. “I stuck my foot in my mouth. Now he thinks I’m an annoying kid.”

  Jill dissolves into laughter on the other end of the line.

  “Yeah, Linds, you’ve got to stop spewing your thoughts the second they occur!”

  “Go ahead, laugh at me,” I say halfheartedly while shuddering at the memory of the bartender’s drawl thickening with sarcasm when I tried to encourage him to go to school.

  “Sorry.” Jill stops giggling. “So, big plans for tonight?”

  “There’s a party tonight around the pool.” I don’t share my lack of genuine enthusiasm. “It could get interesting with all the college kids around.”

  “More time to change the bartender’s mind.” Jill chuckles at her own joke.

  “You’re hilarious, really,” I say dryly.

  “You love me and you know it,” she chides.

  It’s true, but sometimes I envy her, too. The things I like about myself—my thoughtfulness, generosity, and compassion—aren’t all that valued by my peer group, so I’m not as popular as her. Maybe in college it will change.

  “Sorry you aren’t here, but try to have fun,” Jill says. “Talk to you next year!”

  “Bye.” I hang up, roll over on my side, and think about the bartender again.

  Even if he hadn’t rejected me, it wouldn’t have changed anything. In fact, I probably would’ve chickened out if he’d actually propositioned me. And if I had somehow managed to hook up with him, that one exploit wouldn’t have magically freed me. At the end of this trip, I’ll still be saddled with meeting the expectations of my parents, teachers, and friends.

  I don’t know exactly what I’d do differently if I could ignore them all, but I hate to let anyone down. Especially when they only want the best for me. Besides, following their advice is definitely wise. After all, my dad’s a successful banker and my mom’s an ex-litigator turned socialite. I could do worse. Then again, what do I know? As the hottie pointed out, I’m pretty clueless about the world outside my sheltered experience.

  The effects of the sun and my embarrassing run-in this afternoon have tanked my mood. I roll over and close my eyes to escape.

  Hours later, I wake up in the dark. Crap. I’m going to be late. I rush to shower and apply makeup. With little time to primp, I pull my soaking hair into a wet knot at the base of my neck and slip into a new, gold-sequined dress.

  The backless minidress forces me to wear it braless. Even with the built-in liner, it’s sexy. It makes me look more mature than my Lilly Pulitzer stuff. Although I’ll need to figure out how to get out the door without being ordered to change, I smile at my image in the mirror. Maybe that bartender will give me another chance once he sees me in this outfit.

  I’m fastening my strappy heels when my mother knocks on my door.

  “Coming!” I hop on one foot, wrestling to buckle my sandal strap.

  Checking myself in the mirror one last time before opening the door, I grab a wrap to hide my bare back from my dad.

  At ten o’clock, Dave’s and my parents finally give us the green light to leave the dinner table, but mine issue a one o’clock curfew. Dave and I head straight to the pool party.

  “Rocking that dress, Lindsey.” He smiles with a wiggle of his brows.

  “Thanks.” I hope the bartender shares Dave’s sentiment.

  Kanye West’s “Gold Digger” is blaring, colorful lights are swirling, and some people are already swimming.

  “So, I’ve got a fake ID. Let’s have a few drinks,” Dave announces with a huge grin. “What do you want? Something simple, like a rum and Coke?”

  “Okay, but don’t approach that bartender.” I point at the one who can’t stand me. “He’ll know you aren’t old enough.”

  Dave’s puzzled expression braces me for a question, but he shrugs before setting off for the other side of the bar. Within ten minutes, he reappears with two drinks in hand.

  Holding up his glass, he makes a toast. “To our last semester at Greenwich Country Day!”

  “Cheers!” Gulping down a huge swig of my sweet drink, I wipe the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. Dave smirks at me.

  “So, Lindsey, why’d you suggest I avoid that particular bartender?”

  Shoot. I’d hoped to sidestep this conversation.

  “He carded me this afternoon when I tried to buy a daiquiri. Really embarrassing.” I roll my eyes for emphasis and omit any mention of the beach tête-à-tête.

  “Something tells me it wasn’t really a drink you wanted.” Dave winks.

  Busted.

  “Maybe not, but it turns out he’s not too sociable.”

  “Guys that look like that don’t need to be friendly to attract girls, do they?”

  Dave’s co
mmentary shames me. Admittedly, I’m still hot for the bartender, despite his snarky attitude and dead-end choices. If he weren’t so gorgeous, I probably wouldn’t be all that interested in the personality he revealed this afternoon, although his book choice did surprise me.

  Hopefully I’ll wise up with age. Then again, why should I feel guilty about behaving the way every guy I’ve ever known does?

  “I think that works with both genders, Dave. Hence the popular snotty girls.” I grimace because most people would probably include my friend Jill in that category.

  As we while away the hours getting buzzed and laughing by the pool, I occasionally steal glances at my bartender. Has he noticed me at all? Doesn’t he regret giving me the brush-off earlier?

  His sandy-colored hair continues to flop in his eyes, and his lazy grin only adds to his sex appeal. Not that I know anything about sex from experience, but I have a rich fantasy life. Since boys tend to view me as good-friend material rather than girlfriend material, I’ve racked up more imaginary boyfriends than I care to admit. I had really hoped to turn the tide during this vacation, with that bartender.

  Despite his focus on his work, I see he still manages to flirt with all the beautiful girls. While I stare dreamily, he casts a sharp glance in my direction and catches me ogling him. An invisible bolt of electricity passes between us, or at least it feels that way to me. He cocks one brow up when he notices the drink in my hand, then shakes his head briefly before smiling at his next eager customer. Defeated, I pull my attention back to the teen scene and vow not to spy on him for the rest of the night.

  After the midnight hoopla, a bunch of college kids around the pool decide to hit the beach, so Dave and I follow. Several, including Dave, wander into the cold water fully dressed, but I don’t want to ruin my new dress. Unlike one really drunk girl, I also won’t strip down to my undies, especially since I’m braless.

  I rake my hands through the cool sand. The shrieks of those running in and out of the water catch my attention now and then. Sitting on the outside looking in, as usual, I’m losing steam.

  The breeze picks up, scattering goose bumps across my arms. Growing depressed that nothing particularly interesting or exciting happened tonight, or any night on this trip, I’m ready to go back to my room and crawl into bed. I call out to Dave, but he’s not paying attention.

  I guess I drank more than I realized, because I’m dizzy when I stand. I flop into one of the lounge chairs next to the cabana. I’ll lie here for a bit, until everything stops rocking, then go home. Hopefully, I’ll be able to sneak into the bungalow without waking my parents.

  The stars sparkle like a million Swarovski crystals thrown against black velvet. I swear I see, and feel, the earth spinning on its axis. I’m studying Orion when the sound of someone striking a match nearby startles me. Sensing potential danger, my heart races. My head whirls around as I sit forward, and I stop breathing. The hot bartender is leaning against the cabana with a freshly lit cigarette.

  “You scared me!” I shiver and clutch my stomach.

  “Sorry,” he drawls. “Didn’t see you there.”

  “Is the bar closed already?”

  “I’m taking a break.” The red glow of the tip of his cigarette brightens when he inhales. “Long day.”

  I can’t tell if he’s watching me or not, but he doesn’t move from his spot.

  “Oh.” I’m silent for a few seconds, uncomfortably aware of my slip of a dress. As my eyes adjust, his indistinct image sharpens, transforming him from a ghostly figure to a man. In a misguided desire to fill the silence, I blurt out, “Hey, I’m sorry about earlier today. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “No sweat, little girl. Your opinion don’t mean much to me either way.” He blows smoke off to the side of his face without looking at me or saying more.

  Insulted by his dig, I sit upright. “You don’t need to be rude. I said I’m sorry.”

  He takes another drag and sighs.

  “Sweetheart, let me have one break in peace.” The timbre of his inflection on the word sweetheart coaxes a tremble from my traitorous body, which bothers me since I can’t justify finding him so damn sexy on one hand and spiteful on the other. I hear his low chuckle before he continues, “Bet you missed your curfew. Maybe you should run along now.”

  Now I’m pissed. I approach him despite wavering a bit from the booze and the tingling sensations he inspires. For the first time, I notice the name tag pinned to his shirt.

  “You know what, Levi? I take it back! I’m not sorry. You think you’re so cool, but really you’re just a sarcastic jerk. Trust me, you won’t have to worry about any ‘anchors,’ because no one wants someone as rude as you anyway.”

  Only just finished, I’m breathless from my rant when he steps so close, the heat of his body warms me. His seductive glance causes me to gasp.

  “That ain’t true.” His face is mere inches from mine. “You want me.”

  Caught off guard by his remark and proximity, my skin prickles as if I’ve been stung by static electricity. My mouth falls open in protest while my brain scrambles for something to say.

  After blowing more smoke through the side of his mouth, he tilts his head toward me. “Go on, admit it.” Staring at me with heavy-lidded eyes, he sends a delicious shiver through my entire body. He nudges even closer until we’re on the verge of an embrace.

  My heart pounds in my chest, awakening in an unfamiliar, yet tantalizing, way. Before I realize what’s happening, his free hand touches the nape of my neck. Slowly, his fingertips trail down the length of my naked spine. At once, I lose my breath and all thought.

  “Admit it,” he whispers, lowering his head to mine.

  His lips softly brush the corner of mine. With my eyes now closed, I smell a faint mix of smoke, salt, and alcohol. He’s motionless, waiting for my answer. My head is swimming and I might fall over. All of my senses are firing at full blast. Torn between arousal and defeat, I confess.

  “Yes.” My eyes remain closed while I wait for the kiss I’ve been dying to steal for days. Then—nothing. I open my eyes. For the briefest moment, he appears to be battling himself. Then, unexpectedly, he withdraws.

  “Just like I thought.” He leans against the cabana again, flicking his cigarette butt into the trash can, his face obscured by the shadows.

  Thank God for the darkness, because my cheeks are surely beet red. Although I’m humiliated, all the lessons my mother ever taught me about dignity kick in. Without bursting into tears or running away, I take a steadying breath.

  “Feel better now that you’ve embarrassed me? I hope it brings you comfort in the future . . . when you’re nothing but a lonely old man with poor grammar.”

  I storm off before he replies, leaving him standing in the shadows.

  Locked in my room, I cry confused tears. How’d I let him manipulate me so easily? Lust makes us stupid, I suppose.

  I sigh, exhausted from the festivities and the bitter note on which the night ended. I’m not a cruel person and I regret my snobby remarks. He claims not to care what I think, so maybe it doesn’t matter. I doubt he spent another second of his time thinking about me.

  Jill always yells at me for being everyone’s doormat. I swear I’m going to change. No more trying to save the bad boys from themselves. Definitely no more thinking about that bartender, either.

  I’m glad we leave early tomorrow. At least I’ll never have to face him again.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Malibu, California

  May 24, 2013

  Levi

  Hey, Levi, whatcha doing up there?” a woman’s voice calls up from the beach.

  I look down from my deck and see Elena, the recent divorcée from a few doors up the block. She’s not unattractive, and has a pretty tight figure for thirty-six. But as I do with everyone else in my life, I prefer to keep her at arm’s length.

  “Enjoying the day, darlin’.” I wave.

  She’s fond of my dimples, so I’m careful
to conceal them by replying with a closed-mouth smile.

  “I’m planning a little party tonight. Care to join us?” Her hand catches her sun hat before the wind blows it off her head. “A few friends will be coming around seven. Margaritas for all!”

  “Sounds real nice. I might wander in, thanks.” I don’t invite her to come up, which is what I suspect keeps her lingering around the base of my deck stairwell.

  After an awkward moment, she waves good-bye. “All right, then, hope to see you later.”

  She adjusts her hat and struts away with an exaggerated sway of her hips. Without regret, I watch her depart. She’s always been obvious about her attraction to me, touching me when we talk, remarking on the honey color of my hair and the way I wear a pair of blue jeans.

  While I enjoy the benefits of my appearance with plenty of women, I’d never take advantage of one who hankers for more than I can give, or bed an emotionally vulnerable woman. Elena seems to be both. Plus, with her being a neighbor, it would only lead to complications. I love my little shack by the sea and don’t want to be forced to consider uprooting myself because of a jealous woman.

  The heat outside keeps me thirsty, so I duck back inside to grab another beer. As I toss the cap into the garbage, I hear a knock at my front door. When I answer it, I’m confronted with a cop. My body reacts to his presence—pulse skips, muscles tighten—just like when I was a kid living in fear of Pop being arrested.

  “How can I help you, officer?”

  “Are you Levi Hardy?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The cop removes his Ray-Bans. “Are you related to a James Hardy?”

  Guarded, I reply, “That’s my pop’s name. I haven’t seen him in a while. Is he in town?” If Pop somehow used one of my accounts in another one of his scams, I’m gonna wring his neck.

  “No, sir. We received a call from an Officer Hopkins in the Lake Havasu Sheriff’s Department. He found your name and number in your father’s wallet.”