smell his after-shave, a pleasant scent of cool spice, a spice that evoked distant memories she now found abhorrent.
“I’d like you to set up a meeting with the others to discuss the future of Land’s End.”
“When?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Whenever it’s convenient for all of you. You can give me a call at the house when you’ve arranged it.”
Nikki merely nodded, unable to speak for a moment as once again memories swept over her, bringing with them bitterness, anger and the aching memory of what they’d once been to each other.
“I’ll expect to hear from you soon.” Again she nodded her reply, and Grey turned and walked away.
Nikki watched him until he disappeared from sight, then she slumped against the wooden railing, her hands covering her face.
She shivered, allowing her mind to propel her backward in time, unable to prevent the memories that spilled through her head.
“You and me against the world, kid.” How many times had she heard that from Grey when she was young? Greyson Blakemore, alienated from the other kids because of his family wealth. And Nikki, child of the boardwalk. The two of them had first met on the boardwalk’s carousel. Nikki had been eight, and Grey nine. Immediately, they had confronted each other warily, both wanting to ride the silver steed with the bright blue ribbons.
“You’re a boardwalk brat,” Grey had said, obviously mouthing a term he’d heard but didn’t quite understand.
Nikki had faced him squarely, unafraid of his bigger size. “And your mother is a girdle-squeezed, money-grabbing bitch,” she’d countered.
For a long moment, the two had stared at each other, neither denying the other’s words, but unsure what to do next. Finally, it was Grey who had broken the impasse. “We could take turns,” he suggested, eyeing the silver horse longingly.
It had been the beginning of a relationship that had lasted from the end of May to the beginning of September every year. Nikki had lived for the summers when she and Grey were free to wander the boardwalk, playing hide-and-seek beneath the wooden piers, and later learning other, more exciting games to play when the darkness of the evening descended and the heat of those summer nights surrounded them.
When Nikki was ten, Grey was her best friend. At thirteen, he’d been her hero, and at sixteen he became her lover, and they talked of a future together forever.
“Nikki? Nikki, are you all right?”
The feminine voice pulled Nikki from the warmth of yesterday and back to the stark reality of the present. She withdrew her hands from her face and turned to see Bridget, her petite face creased with worry. “I’m fine.” Nikki forced a smile.
“I saw him, Nikki. I saw him talking to you. Are you sure you’re all right?”
Nikki nodded, releasing a shuddery sigh. She walked over to a nearby bench and sat down, afraid her legs wouldn’t hold her any longer. Bridget joined her on the bench, her feet dangling in the air like those of a small child.
Bridget had been born a little person at a time when people had no real understanding of dwarfism. She had come to the boardwalk twenty years ago and opened a pizza place. Here, in the surreal atmosphere and carnival gaiety, like so many of life’s outcasts, Bridget had found acceptance. She had also become a very special person in Nikki’s life.
“Did he say anything…about the baby?” she said, taking Nikki’s hand in hers.
Nikki shook her head and closed her eyes against the stab of pain that pierced through her…a pain of emptiness and loss. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined seeing him,” Nikki said softly, looking at Bridget once again. “So many nights I fantasized about his return, rehearsed all the things I wanted to say—” She stopped in frustration, unable to explain how when actually facing him, she couldn’t think of anything except the reality of his presence. “He called me Nicolette Richards, so he knows about my marriage,” she said suddenly.
“If he knows about your marriage, maybe he knows about your divorce, too. Maybe after all this time, he’s finally come back for you. Maybe he’s come back to make up for the past.” Bridget, ever the romantic sighed at the very thought.
Nikki snorted her disbelief, feeling a slight hysteria sweep over her. “Even if he tried, there’s no way in hell that man could ever make up for the past,” she said with fevered finality.
Greyson Blakemore stood at the window of the second-story room that had been his childhood bedroom. He stared out into the distance where the bright-colored lights of the boardwalk lit the horizon.
Land’s End. At one time, he’d thought it was the only place on earth that mattered. It had been his salvation, his sanity.
He opened the window and felt the warm, salt-tinged air caress his face. Wafting on the breeze were the muted musical tones of the carousel’s calliope. As if the Pied Piper of Hamelin were using his mythical pipe to summon Grey, the haunting notes pulled at him, beckoned him.
As he stood at the window, with the sounds of the ocean crashing to shore mingling with the distant refrain of the boardwalk, he was thrust backward in time. Like the H.G. Wells’s time traveler in his fantasy machine, Grey chose the place and time in his past to revisit.
It was a mental exercise he’d indulged in before, and always when he did, he wound up with Nikki in his arms. She was seventeen and he was eighteen.
He closed his eyes, allowing the past full rein, letting his senses relive that particular moment of yesterday.
Her hair was a long tangle of dark curls that smelled of the sun and held the illumination of the moonlight that shone overhead. He’d held her before, kissed her before, but on this particular night, their embrace held the urgency of summer’s end, the knowledge that within two days he would leave for college. On this night, their urgency fed their passion and the passion fed on itself until they reached the point of no return. Even though they had made love a hundred times before, this time was different, already holding the bittersweet pangs of loneliness and separation.
Afterward, he’d stared at her in wonder, as always unable to believe that she was his. Her hazel eyes had taken on the gray hue of the shadows beneath the pier where they lay. Her skin was as warm as the sun-kissed sand. The moonlight caressed her face, emphasizing the straightness of her nose, etching each of her features in stark radiance. At the time, he’d loved her more than anything or anyone on earth. They’d talked of the future, planned their tomorrows…and after that night, he hadn’t seen her again…until this evening.
Nikki was as much a part of Grey’s past as those youthful carefree summer days. Yet he’d banished her from his very soul. But seeing her again had managed to stir up a strange mixture of emotions that weren’t easy to sort out.
“Greyson?”
He turned to see his mother standing in the doorway.
“We’re waiting dinner for you.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was so late.” He looked at his watch, surprised to see it was after eight o’clock. He smiled apologetically, knowing his mother always had dinner served promptly at eight.
This
