Secrets on the Sand (The Billionaires of Barefoot Bay #1)(12)
Author: Roxanne St. Claire

Her words played on his memory. “Can’t she get a small-business loan?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, Zeke, I really don’t know her personal situation, but—”

“Don’t you think you ought to know an employee’s personal situation before you fire her?”

She drew back, her shoulders square. “She was found in a villa undressed with a guest. I’m running a first-class, five-star resort, and I make no apologies for my business decisions or employee relations.”

In the entryway behind her, a man appeared, holding a baby who couldn’t have been a year old. “Everything okay out here?”

“Yes,” she said, indicating him. “This is Zeke Nicholas, our guest in Bay Laurel. Zeke, this is my husband, Clay Walker.”

“The architect?” Zeke asked.

He nodded. “I designed the resort.”

“I’m a fan of your work. I…I thought you were older.”

Clay smiled, his blue eyes glinting with understanding. “My father’s an architect, as well, and much better known than I am.” He gave the baby a little pat. “And this is Elijah. We’re hoping he picks up a drafting pencil soon, too.”

Lacey laughed. “Not that soon.”

Zeke gave the little guy a wink when he turned big blue eyes exactly like his daddy’s on him. “Cute kid. And, look, about today? My side of the story is the truth.”

“Thank you,” Lacey said. “I appreciate you stopping by and returning the card key.”

“I’m sorry to have interrupted your family time.”

“I’m always available for guests,” she said.

He started to leave, but stopped midstep. “Can I ask you one more question?”

The couple nodded in unison.

“Is your decision about the outsourcing of that business final?”

They shared a look, the kind that told him they talked about everything and didn’t make any decisions in a vacuum.

“We’ve made a verbal agreement,” Lacey said. “But nothing’s signed. Why?”

“If Amanda were able to finance that business, would you give her a shot, in spite of what happened today?”

Lacey sighed, slowly shaking her head, but her eyes said she knew what he was suggesting. “Oh, I don’t know. That would be—”

“Oh, Strawberry.” Her husband shifted the baby to his other arm to get even closer to her. “How soon we forget.”

“What?” she asked him.

He gave her a half smile and swiped a hand through near-shoulder-length, sun-streaked hair, an earring twinkling in his lobe. “I seem to recall a young woman who, not so long ago, had to do some pretty creative maneuvering to get her own business, and there were plenty of people who thought her track record didn’t merit a second chance. Not to mention her relationship with one of her business partners.”

Her face softened as she smiled at him, the connection between them palpable. After a second, she turned back to Zeke, her eyes shining. “Everyone deserves her shot, I suppose.”

Zeke nodded. “That’s all we’d ask.”

A few minutes later, he was halfway down the beach on his way to his next stop before he realized he’d said “we.”

Chapter Five

Amanda had a good shower cry. Ugly, hard, and stinging, even though she didn’t get soap in her eyes.

When the water heater gave out, she finally dried off, slipped on a tank top and sleep pants and poured a glass—okay, a vat—of wine before heading into her room. Her old room, not the master she’d slept in for her year of free rent in exchange for house-sitting. Mom had long ago turned Amanda’s teenage-girl room into a den/guest/catch-all combo, which had turned dusty and musty from lack of use. In every corner, the fading light left shadows…and memories.

This room might look different than it had when it was a teenager’s sanctuary, but Amanda had left plenty of herself in here. Sleepovers, studying, and hours of…admiration. The closet doors were sliding full-length mirrors, trimmed in brass.

How many hours had Mandy Mitchell spent in front of her own reflection? God, she’d been self-absorbed. No wonder Tori hated her. Along with everyone else she’d probably treated like second-class citizens.

Except Ezekiel Nicholas. Had she really thrown that “class” comment at a bully? She didn’t remember having a caring bone in her body back then. But that’s not how he saw her. And she didn’t even remember the book-bag and bully incident. 

Without taking even a glance at her reflection in the mirrored door, Amanda rolled it, searching the floor for the plastic container Mom had used to store what had been on the bookshelves.

Spotting the box, Amanda slid to the floor, taking a deep drink of wine before setting the glass on the nightstand. She had to find that yearbook.

As she dug through pieces of her life packed into a bin, she refused to let the nostalgia get to her. They were things from her bookshelves, that’s all. Not her. A tiara from homecoming, a framed picture of her in her cheerleading uniform, a dried corsage from prom, the program from the Miss Teen Florida pageant—they were distant, ancient memories of a girl who no longer existed.

She should probably thank Doug for humbling her in their marriage, for years of put-downs and insults and reminders that he had the power and she was nothing but a wife. It hadn’t taken long for Amanda’s confidence to crumble. Now she was building it back up, but this time, she would leave the arrogance behind.

When she lifted the graduation cap, her fingers hit the hard edge of a book cover.

Mimosa High Yearbook 2002…A New Day Has Come

The edition was more serious than most years, less emphasis on partying at the beach and more emphasis on making a difference in the world. Of course, the first month of their senior year had been September of 2001, a time in history marred by events that had changed every heart in the world.

Amanda leaned back against the bed, reaching for another sip of wine before opening the book. Then she flipped to the seniors, and the pages automatically opened to the middle of the alphabet, with her picture on the left-hand side.

She ignored it and skimmed straight to the N’s, stunned to see Ezekiel Nicholas directly underneath her.

“Holy crap,” she whispered to herself. She didn’t know what was more amazing—the fact that he’d gone from zero to a dime since they’d graduated or that she had never even noticed his picture under hers.

He was right under her on the same page, and she’d never even known he existed beyond a cutting nickname.