in there suitable for mopping and scrubbing?” Samantha asked doubtfully. “I just don’t see you mucking out the family restaurant in your designer heels. Those are Louboutins, right? You always did have expensive taste.”
Heat climbed in Emily’s cheeks. “I work with people who are obsessed with designer labels, but you can bet I do my share of hard labor when I’m renovating a house,” she retorted defensively, then sighed. “But you’re right about my wardrobe not being suitable for cleaning. This trip to Colorado was a quick meet-and-greet with a new client, so I probably need to pick up some shorts and T-shirts someplace. What about you? You usually look like a fashion plate yourself. What’s with the faded jeans and...” Her eyes widened. “Is that Ethan Cole’s old football jersey?”
Samantha blushed furiously. “It was in a box of stuff in Gabi’s attic. I grabbed whatever still fit.”
“That shirt doesn’t fit,” Emily scoffed. “It’s at least six sizes too big. It makes you look like a fourteen-year-old girl with a crush on the captain of the football team.” She allowed a slow grin to spread. “Oh, wait, that was you, wasn’t it? Sitting in the bleachers all wide-eyed and hopeful?”
“Do you realize if you keep this up, you might not live long enough to get to Sand Castle Bay?” Samantha asked tartly. “I imagine I can find some deserted section of highway where I can toss your body.”
“Nice talk to your baby sister,” Emily retorted. “You always swore you loved me, even when I was being a total pain.”
“Back then I did,” Samantha confirmed with a grin of her own. “Who could resist a cute, chubby-cheeked little thing?” She shrugged. “Now, not so much.”
Once they were on the road heading east, Emily’s mood sobered. “Has anyone heard how bad things are over there? What’s Grandmother going to find when she walks into the restaurant?”
“Apparently Boone told her it was still standing, just badly flooded and in need of a lot of tender, loving care and, more than likely, a new roof.”
Emily froze, her heart doing an unexpected stutter step. “Boone? Surely you’re not talking about Boone Dorsett. What does he have to do with anything?”
“He and Cora Jane are thick as thieves these days,” Samantha said, then gave her a quick sympathetic glance. “Didn’t you know?”
“Why would I know? Nobody tells me anything.” At least not anything that might matter, such as the fact that her own grandmother and the bane of her existence, Mr. Boone Dorsett, were pals.
Oh, her grandmother had always had a soft spot for Boone. She’d taken to him the minute he’d started coming around with Emily the summer they’d both turned fourteen. While Emily had fallen for a bad boy with a dangerous edge most likely headed for trouble, Cora Jane had seen a boy rebelling against parents who didn’t care. She’d seen potential and, to her credit, nourished it.
Still, shouldn’t she have cut her ties with Boone when Emily had, out of family solidarity or something? Even as the thought formed, Emily knew better. Grandmother wouldn’t abandon Boone the way Emily had. In fact, though she’d never voiced her opinion, Emily knew Cora Jane had judged her harshly for what she’d done, choosing a career over the man everyone knew she loved.
“What’s Boone after?” she asked suspiciously.
“After?” Samantha echoed with a puzzled look. “I don’t think he wants anything. Cora Jane says he’s been a huge help to her with the restaurant. That’s all I know.”
“If Boone is being a huge help, then he wants something,” Emily declared with conviction. Wasn’t he always after something? That had been her experience, anyway. Once upon a time he’d wanted her, and when she’d said she needed time to explore the world a bit, he’d let her go and married Jenny Farmer about ten seconds later. Last she’d heard they had a little boy. So much for that undying love he’d declared he felt for her. Maybe she’d left, but he was the one who’d delivered a betrayal so deep she’d never really recovered.
“He probably wants the Castle’s by the Sea property,” Emily speculated direly. In her dark days, hadn’t she entertained that thought more than once, imagining him courting her even back then with an ulterior motive? How else to explain his rapid-fire marriage to someone else after she’d gone? True love couldn’t possibly have been so fickle. “I’ll just bet he’s hoping this hurricane will be the last straw and Grandmother will sell that prime beachfront location to him.”
Samantha slanted a wry look at her. “You do know that Boone already has three very successful seafood restaurants, right?”
“Three?” Emily echoed, startled.
“Sure enough. Boone’s Harbor on the bay opened first. Now he has one in Norfolk and one over in Charlotte. I think there’s some guy who’s like his administrative assistant who scouts out the new locations and gets them operational, but Boone’s definitely in charge. Grandmother says the reviews have been great in all those cities. She has a collection of them. I’m surprised she never sent them to you.”
“She probably assumed I wouldn’t be interested,” Emily said, oddly deflated by the news. She wanted to believe the very worst about Boone. Needed to believe it, in fact. She didn’t like thinking she’d misjudged his ambition or that she might have made a terrible mistake in being so quick to let him go. She didn’t believe in regrets, so what were these twinges all about?
Her sister studied her with obvious confusion. “I thought you were long over him. You did break up with him, right? Not the other way around? I always thought Jenny was his rebound romance.”
“Over him?” Emily huffed indignantly. “Of course, I’m over him. Haven’t given him a thought since I left here ten years ago.” Liar, liar, her conscience shouted.
“Then why the attitude?”
“I just don’t want him taking advantage of our grandmother, that’s all. Cora Jane is too trusting for her own good.”
Samantha laughed at that. “Cora Jane? You must have some other grandmother in mind. Cora Jane’s as savvy as they come where business is concerned and sharp as a tack when it comes to judging people.”
“She’s not immune to a man with Boone’s considerable charm, that’s all I’m saying,” Emily said irritably. “Let’s drop this. It’s giving me a headache.” She looked around and frowned. They were in the jammed parking lot of a discount store. “Why are you pulling in here?”
“To stock up on your brand-new hurricane cleanup wardrobe,” her sister said, then added, a little too cheerfully, “Let’s not forget the flip-flops and sneakers.”
Emily regarded her with dismay. The only flip-flops she wore these days came from a designer shoe salon on Rodeo Drive.
“Okay,” she said sourly, “but you and Gabi better remember that I don’t scrub windows.” She hesitated, then added, “Or floors.”
Samantha draped an arm over her shoulder as they crossed the busy parking lot. “Fine, Cinderella. We’ll leave the grease trap to you. That’s always fun.”
Emily scowled at her. It promised to be a very long couple of weeks, especially if Boone was likely to be underfoot.
