Nobody wanted to come to a tourist area that smelled of hopelessness.
What they needed was somebody who cared, somebody who would risk making an investment in the area. Grey’s father, Thomas Blakemore, hadn’t cared. He’d only wanted to collect the rent money due him each month.
Did Grey care? She didn’t know anymore. She didn’t know him anymore. He’d once cared deeply, passionately for this area and its people. She watched him as he studied Jim’s guns at the shooting gallery. Could she somehow tap into those old feelings he’d once had for the boardwalk? For the sake of her friends, she hoped so. But she wasn’t sure if it was possible. After all, he’d also once cared deeply and passionately for her, but that feeling had died a swift and permanent death.
“I don’t know, Nikki,” he said moments later as he moved to where she stood looking out over the water. “It doesn’t look good.” He carefully folded the notes he’d made and placed them into his pocket, knowing he’d spend half the night viewing and reviewing, analyzing and reanalyzing his observations. “I see a lot on the minus side of the balance sheet and not many pluses.”
“There’s one thing you won’t find written down on your reports…the enchantment. Grey, have you forgotten the enchantment of Land’s End? Have you forgotten how this place embraced you, captivated you, make you feel welcome and safe?”
Unconsciously, she reached out and grabbed his forearm. “Grey, you used to say there was magic here. It’s still here, it’s just become tarnished with age, smeared by too much wear and too little care.” She released her hold on him and moved away, the breeze moving her long hair back from her features, the sun creating fires in the dark strands. “We have dreams, Grey. All of us here on the boardwalk, and you hold them in your hands.”
He watched her with narrowed eyes, trying not to see the way the gentle wind molded her T-shirt against her firm, upthrust breasts, trying not to notice the length of her tanned, shapely legs beneath her shorts.
“Dreams are for kids,” he replied brusquely, tearing his gaze away from her and back to the water.
“That’s not true,” she protested. “Dreams are for everyone who has hope, including those here at Land’s End that don’t have money, or have physical handicaps or whatever. The one commodity they have in abundance is hope.” She reached out to grab his arm. “Grey, please don’t take that hope away from us. Give us a chance to tell you our dreams before you make the decision to destroy this place.”
Grey ran his hand through his hair, needing to think, but not knowing what to think. Her words reminded him of what this place had once meant to him. He moved away from her, again looking out to the water as if the answers were all there in the waves.
He also realized something else. Despite the fact that she’d betrayed him, married another and gone on with her life, he still wanted her. He wanted her with a passion that was mindless, careless and insane.
What he didn’t know was if this, too, was merely a lingering emotion from the past, a memory too powerful to dispel. Would making love to her now be the overwhelming experience he remembered it to be, or had he colored their union with sensations intensified through the haze of time?
The memory was a strange kind of thing, easily given to exaggeration and glorification. Grey had made love with other women since Nikki, but never had he reached the same feeling of completeness he had with her. Had that merely been an illusion?
“Grey?”
“All right,” he said, suddenly knowing what he wanted. He gazed at her, wanting to fall into the shadows of her eyes, wanting to replay the past, make their ending different this time. “If you want me to save the boardwalk, you have to show me the magic again.”
She stared at him and he could see the tumultuous emotions in her eyes. Like storm clouds in an early spring sky, they rolled and thundered, but beneath their turbulence, he saw something else, a spark of desire that flamed momentarily, then was quickly doused. She raised her chin and eyed him proudly and he was reminded once again of that first time he’d seen her. Looking back, he wondered if it wasn’t then, that very first time, that he’d fallen in love with her.
She’d been so alien, so exotic-looking compared to the other girls he knew from school. She’d been barefoot, her legs sporting a deep tan that didn’t quite cover the bruised kneecaps and skinned shins.
She looked like a homeless waif, and yet there was the glory of freedom in her eyes, a self-awareness that he found fascinating. She was like an entity from another planet and he wanted to possess her, contain her spirit and learn from it.
He felt the same way now, as he waited for her answer.
She tossed her hair away from her face and looked at him, her eyes glittering with challenge. “Okay, Grey, I’ll show you the magic,” she finally answered.
Unconsciously, he took a step toward her, overcome with the need to take her in his arms, feel her body pressed tightly against his.
Her eyes flared slightly as if she read his intent and she took a step back from him. “I’ve got to get to the theater,” she said as she looked at her watch. With a stiff nod, she turned and fled.
He watched her go, wishing he could call back yesterday, wondering exactly what had gone wrong between them, knowing that it wasn’t over yet. He knew in that instant that he couldn’t go ahead with his future until he resolved this issue from his past. He needed one more night of holding her in his arms. He needed just one more night with her. Then, just maybe, he could finally let her go.
Three
“I can’t believe I actually agreed,” Nikki said the next morning as she poured Bridget a cup of coffee. “Show me the magic, he says, and I say okay. I should have my head examined.”
Bridget reached out and patted Nikki’s arm in consolation. “But if you can show it to him, maybe he’ll save the boardwalk.”
“I don’t even know if it’s possible. Either you see magic or you don’t. It has to exist in your soul before you can see it in the world around you—” She broke off in frustration.
She got up from the table and walked over to the window and peered out into the early morning sunshine. “When a magician pulls a card out of thin air, some people see a man good at sleight of hand, hear a telltale rustle of clothing, notice a furtive grab up a sleeve. Others see only the magic. Grey used to see it, but he’s had seven years to perfect the Blakemore skepticism and disbelief. How can I make him see the magic? What can I possibly do to change his mind about the boardwalk? This whole idea is completely ridiculous.” Nikki sat down at the table and looked at her friend.
Bridget calmly stirred three spoonfuls of sugar into her coffee, a smile wrinkling her perky nose. “I can’t think of anyone more suited to remind Grey of what this boardwalk once was, what it could be again. There is magic here, the magic of wounded people coming together in tolerance, living together in peace, working together and sharing their dreams.”
She reached across the table and grabbed Nikki’s hand in hers. “This boardwalk has given to you all these years. When you were sixteen and your mother died, these people rallied around to make certain you didn’t end up in social services. We’re a family here, and this family is depending on you, Nikki. You must do whatever it takes to make Grey see the magic. You have to do whatever must be done to see that he doesn’t
