Page 7 of Just Beachy

I look up but don’t quite meet his eyes. “No. Thanks. I’m just going to have a quick drink with a friend of mine before I meet up with my mother and grandmother.”

He smiles, he knows my mother and Grand. “I can understand needing a little liquid courage but take it easy.Wouldn’t want to have to add a DUI to poor Cassie’s troubles.”

Still jangling from the rush of adrenaline that poured into my body while I faced down the hulks, I make no comment. But as I watch him leave, I catch myself wondering what he sees when he looks at me. I’ve spent time and money correcting my physical shortcomings, but I have a strong suspicion that Luke Hayes still sees me as a gangly, flat-chested adolescent.

Where’s the justice in that?

Four

Time flies when you’re facingdeath. It takes some long deep breaths to slow it back down.

I’ve moved to a table and am finally breathing normally when Kyra walks in.

“Hey, there,” she says as she reaches me. “Great to see you.” Her brow furrows. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm-hmmm.” We hug and I hold on a little longer than I might have if I hadn’t had the run-in with Hulk One and Hulk Two.

Then we step back and contemplate each other. Kyra Singer is almost a year younger than me, and although she’s extremely attractive in a refreshingly casual way, she’s always chosen to work behind the camera rather than in front of it. We met on the set of Daniel Deranian’s filmHalfway Home, where Daniel hit on both of us.

Experience helped me resist his charms, but it wasKyra’s first shoot, and she made the mistake of not only falling in love with him but getting pregnant by him.

Their son, Dustin, is the spitting image of his father. Which his father exploited while attempting his directorial debut, putting his own son at risk and finally forcing Kyra to see him for who and what he really is—a self-serving, serial adulterer.

You’d think I’d be safe from Tonja Kay’s animosity because I didnotsleep with her husband, but I’ve nonetheless found myself in her crosshairs simply because he wanted me and, I assume, because of my friendship and support of Kyra. It’s clear she still hates the fact that her husband remains attracted to Kyra and is madly in love with their son.

“Are you okay?” Kyra asks again. “I saw a sheriff’s car pulling out with two extremely large men in the back. Did something happen?”

“You could say that.”

“Damn straight.” A.J. walks over and presents Kyra with the margarita I ordered for her earlier. He brings me one, too, and sets down a bowl of pretzels. “Cassie here foiled a robbery attempt. These drinks are totally on the house.” He gives me a wink and heads back to the bar.

“Did he just call you—?”

“Yes.” I sigh then fill her in on my run-in with the “welcoming committee.” I sigh again when I take my first sip of my margarita and once again discover it contains no alcohol. “But I’d much rather hear what’s going on with you.”

Kyra sets her drink on the table and sits back in herchair. “Okay. Let’s see. Chase and Avery are almost done with the YMCA reno, and they’ve done a great job of turning it into a mixed-use space without destroying its historic charm. They really knew how to build things in the twenties. Troy and I’ve been shooting the reno from day one and are finally starting to edit our footage into an entire season ofDoOveras we originally envisioned before the network hijacked it.”

“Wow. That’s awesome.” I nibble on some nuts. “I can’t wait to see the series, and I’d love to go see the Y.”

“We can go anytime you’re free, then maybe have lunch downtown or along Central Avenue?”

“That sounds great. I’ll just have to see what my mother has in store for me.”

Kyra nods; she’s been listening to me talk about my mother for years. “I hear you. But if you need a little ‘space,’ there’s always room at Bella Flora. In fact, the guest house is vacant.”

I assume this means that cameraman Troy Matthews, former nemesis, unexpected renter of Bella Flora, and Kyra’s current love interest, has moved back into the main house with Kyra and Dustin. Her blush tells me this is exactly what’s happened.

“I’d love to stay with you, but Grand’s been here visiting a friend on Treasure Island and doesn’t seem to want to go home to Atlanta. My mother expects me to help convince her to go look at some senior residence in Tampa. It’s a mess. Unless she’s declined significantly since I last sawher, it seems wrong to push her into aging faster than she has to.” I glance down at my watch. “In fact, they’re expecting me at Middle Grounds Grill right now, so I’m going to have to head out.”

“Well, let me know when you can get away or if you all need anything. We still do sunset toasts. And you’re always welcome.”

“Thanks.” We raise our glasses, click rims, and drain the last drops. “I’ll text you once I know what’s going on with Grand.”

I drive north on Gulf Boulevard to Treasure Island then take a right when I spot the restaurant. The hostess leads me back to the table where my mother and grandmother are already seated.

As always, my mother is immaculately groomed. Each blond hair is in place. Her makeup is subtle but effective.

“Where have you been?” she asks when I reach their table and lean over to hug them both.

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