Page 62 of Just Beachy

“No, no buts! And you will never have the chance to call me ‘baby’ or ‘darling’ or anything else.” I draw a breath. “Because you are fired!”

There’s a silence that can only be called “pregnant.” Then Martin says quite matter-of-factly, “You’re going to regret this, Sydney.Baby. I can promise you that.” And then he hangs up on me.

Tears blur my vision, but I’ll be damned if I let a single one of them fall. It takes a couple of minutes to banish them.

Because while I feel wonderfully empowered, I’m also no longer represented by one of the most sought-after agents in Hollywood.

• • •

In addition tobeing agent-less, I am now under what feels like almost constant police surveillance. I know Luke is just trying to protect Grand and me, but between him, his coworkers, and his off-duty law enforcement friends, Grand and I are rarely alone. He also insists on sharing my Friday and Saturday night shifts at Harley’s, giving A.J. two-for-one coverage that A.J. is eating up with a spoon.

“Police Detective Cassie Everheartanda local cop?” A.J. crows. “No one in their right mind would come in here and cause trouble!”

“Yeah, maybe you need to put a sign on the door to that effect,” Luke says when he escorts me into Harley’s that Friday night and takes “his” seat at the bar, where he has his back to the wall and his eyes locked on the front door. “That way the bad guys will know not to come in.”

“Righteous, man,” A.J. says, clearly missing the tinge of sarcasm in Luke’s voice.

“I don’t think that would have stopped Hulk One and Hulk Two,” I say. “But it might deter bad guys who can readandthink through the negative consequences attached to criminal behavior.”

“Exactly.” A.J. nods even more enthusiastically.

“Of course, it could also deter upstanding citizens who don’t want to be in a bar where that kind of warning is the first thing they see,” Luke adds.

“True that,” A.J. says gravely. “Man, this shit is complicated. I think I’m just going to stick with you two and the baseball bat I’ve started keeping behind the bar. Although I’m pretty sure the law says that I can carry a gun to protect my property.”

“Not so much,” Luke replies. “The law actually states that firearms are not allowed in ‘any portion of an establishment licensed to dispense alcoholic beverages for consumption on the premises,’ ” Luke points out. “And since Harley’s is, in fact, a bar, I think we need to make sure you no longer have a gun back there.”

“Good thinking.” I walk behind the bar and begin to check the shelves and cubbies. Then I get A.J. to open the safe.

Luke pats A.J. down. “Nothing on his person.”

“Nothing back here,” I confirm. “Which is a good thing. I would hate to have to make a citizen’s arrest. Or be forced to catch a gun ever again.”

• • •

After a quiet,hulkless evening we leave Harley’s at midnight. Luke follows me back to Grand’s and walks me to her front door. Then he leans over and kisses me until we’re all wrapped around each other and breathing heavily.

“Come on. Let’s take this inside,” I whisper as I open the front door, take his hand, and lead him stealthily up the stairs, past Grand’s closed bedroom door, and into my bedroom. There I discover just how orgasmic quiet sex can be. It’s keeping the orgasms quiet that proves the mostchallenging, but since we don’t hear a peep or snore from the direction of Grand’s room, I assume we weren’t loud enough to disturb her.

It’s after nine in the morning when we wake up. Grand’s bedroom door is still closed so I make us coffee, which we carry out onto the balcony. There we watch the dolphins frolic while pelicans dive into the water after fish. Seagulls excel at snatching fishy morsels out of one another’s mouths.

Grand’s door is still closed around ten o’clock when we go back inside. Worried that she’s not well, I call out her name, push her door open, and step into her room. When I don’t see her in bed, I move to the bathroom, afraid I’m going to see her slumped in her closet or sprawled on the bathroom floor. But all I find is a note taped to the mirror above her sink.

I pull it gently from the mirror careful not to rip it. It reads, “If you want to see your grandmother alive, you will bring The Madonna to us. If you contact the cops, even the one you’re sleeping with, your grandmother dies. A car will pick you and the painting up tomorrow at noon.”

Thirty

I stand frozen in Grand’sbathroom trying to figure out what to do. More than anything, I want to go to Luke and ask him for help, only I don’t know how nearby the kidnappers are. For all I know, they’ve placed tiny cameras or recording devices around the town house and are watching me now.

Oh God, oh God, I think but do not say because I don’t want them to see how freaked out I am. Or see my lips moving and think I’m talking to someone.

I freeze when Luke’s voice reaches me from downstairs. “Sydney? Where are you?”

“Just throwing on some clothes. Be right down!” I shout as I run into my bedroom and do just that. Then I stroll downstairs as nonchalantly as I can with my heart pounding like a bass drum in my chest.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Sure,” I lie. “I’m just dragging a bit from all our, um, nocturnal activity.”

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