Under The Boardwalk. Carla Cassidy
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“Greyson, dear?”
He felt his mother’s hand on his sleeve and flushed, realizing his gaze was once again focused out his window. She joined him there, her light, expensive fragrance surrounding him.
“I blame myself, you know,” she said, making him turn to look at her curiously. “Your father always said I should have been more firm with you. I should have forbidden you to go to that place.”
“I don’t think anything you could have said or done would have kept me from the boardwalk.” He looked back out the window, seeing the lights of the Ferris wheel, remembering his child’s perception of a fantasy kingdom against the darkness of the ocean. “There was a kind of special magic there for me,” he said, irritated to recognize a certain wistfulness in his tone.
“But that’s all behind you now,” his mother said, patting his arm reassuringly. “That was the magic of childhood, but you’re a man now with responsibilities.”
Responsibilities…yes. For the past seven years, he’d carried much of the responsibilities of the Blakemore family business on his shoulders. And now he held the livelihood of the people at Land’s End in the palm of his hands.
He left the window, following his mother. He hesitated at the doorway of the room, catching one last glimpse of the brilliant colored lights reflecting off the ocean waves.
Yes, he’d always thought the boardwalk held some kind of magic. He remembered his youth there with Nikki with a longing that was, at times, physically painful. The bright lights, the gay music, the complete freedom…and Nikki. They had all combined to make the past so poignant, so sharply etched in his mind that he was trapped by that very image.
No matter where he’d gone, what he’d done, his thoughts had always drifted back here, to the boardwalk and Nikki. It was an illusion that had made everything else in his life pale by comparison.
Perhaps I needed to come back here, he thought as he followed his mother down the stairs to the dining room. Perhaps in order to finally come to terms with that past, find happiness in the future, he was going to have to dispel the illusion. He wondered if he was going to have to destroy the boardwalk.
Two
Nikki woke slowly, trying to hold on to her dreams, but it was like somebody trying to capture an echo. The sounds of morning intruded on her sleep—the banging of a hammer from someplace outside, the recurrent sloshing of waves acquainting themselves with the shore, Bridget yelling at her Swedish husband, Lars, to take out the garbage.
Dreams of yesterday were chased away, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste in her mouth and the need for a cup of hot coffee.
She stumbled out of bed and pulled on a floor-length silken robe, enjoying the sensual coolness of the material against her naked flesh. Although it was only the beginning of June, it was so unusually hot that Nikki had taken to her youthful penchant for sleeping in the buff.
She belted the robe, then padded into the kitchen and quickly set about making coffee. She frowned as she thought of the dreams that had plagued her sleep all night long. Erotic dreams of Grey…distorted memories of his touch, his caress.
Seeing him again had stirred up embers of the flame that had once burned so brightly inside her. Seeing him again had disrupted the modicum of inner peace she thought she’d finally found.
For seven long years she had worked hard to forget him, to learn to hate him, and now it was more important than ever that she hang on to those negative emotions.
She carried her cup of coffee into the small living room and flopped down on the sofa. Thoughtfully she sipped her coffee as her gaze found the picture on the end table. Johnny. She wondered where he was, what he was doing at this moment. Their marriage had lasted only ten months, but they’d parted as they had begun, as friends. Marrying him had been her second mistake. The first had been falling in love and trusting Grey.
“Hey, Nikki.”
“Come on in,” Nikki yelled in the direction of the front door, smiling as Bridget stepped inside.
“Good morning,” Bridget exclaimed before sailing into the kitchen. She returned a moment later with a cup of coffee cradled between her hands.
Nikki smiled indulgently at her friend. “I thought Lars told you to stay away from caffeine,” she commented.
Bridget waved her hands in dismissal. “Oh, him. I think he believes that too much coffee might stunt my growth. I keep telling him it’s too late.” She grinned like a mischievous child. She took a sip from the mug, then settled back on the sofa. “So, are you ready for the tour today?”
Nikki grimaced. “I’ve just been sitting here thinking about packing my bags and catching the first train out of town.”
“You should have known that as president of the Boardwalk League, you’d be chosen to deal with Grey.” She smiled sympathetically. “Honey, we need somebody who’s on our side to be with him when he looks over the area. I know it will be difficult, but surely you can be civil to the man, show him around and not jeopardize the future of the boardwalk because of your past.”
Nikki nodded wearily. Yes, she knew it was necessary to keep the past firmly buried and focus on the issue at hand—the survival of the board walk. That had to take precedence over her own pain, her own sense of enormous betrayal. The survival of this area had to transcend her own personal torment.
Yesterday at the meeting with the people of the boardwalk, she’d known with a sinking heart that she would be chosen as the one to work with Grey. She’d called him the night before to arrange to give him a tour this morning. No wonder she’d suffered strange dreams about him, she thought suddenly. The dreams had probably been induced by her dread of seeing him yet again, of having to have anything at all to do with him.
“If I’m lucky, he’ll take care of the business here, then return to his life in New York City.”
“With his father dead, don’t you think he’ll probably stay here?” Bridget asked.
“I hope not,” she replied fervently. But what if he did remain in Oceanview? How was she ever going to cope with seeing him all the time? To survive, she’d have to hang on to her anger and her bitterness. She couldn’t afford to think about the stirrings of desire, the passion he’d always evoked in her with a mere glance, a simple touch. Those emotions were dangerous, unwanted…the emotions of a fool.
“Nikki, if he wanted it, couldn’t you give him another chance?” Bridget asked gently.
“Never,” she replied flatly. “He’ll never again have a place in my life. He negated that right when he sent me that envelope full of money for an abortion.”
“He was young,” Bridget said.
“And so was I,” Nikki retorted. “Young and pregnant and alone.” Again a deep ache pierced through her, momentarily taking her breath away. “Everyone told me I was a fool, that boardwalk girls had always been easy prey for the town boys. I thought what we had was