Tough Enough

That only makes me appreciate Katie that much more. Only Katie’s not here. And my guess is that she’s not coming.

I’m relieved when my phone rings, interrupting what is becoming an increasingly uncomfortable situation. It gives me an excuse to get rid of Rayelle, which I do immediately.

“Thanks for coming, Rayelle, but I need to get this.” Without further explanation, I close the door in her shocked face and tap the ANSWER button. I don’t really give a shit who it is, but I want to thank the caller with an expensive bottle of scotch.

Until I hear the voice. And then I want to thank her with a long, hot kiss and three hours of worshipping her body.

It’s Katie. I put my number in her phone last night. I’d hoped she’d use it. Or better yet just show up. At least she’s doing one.

“Rogan?” she asks, uncertain.

“Damn, am I glad to hear your voice,” I tell her honestly.

Her laugh is light and pleased. “Why is that?”

“Besides the fact that it sounds like warm honey in my ear, you just saved me from getting devoured.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Surprise visit from Rayelle. Unexpected and not at all welcome.”

“Poor you. What a chore it must be to fend off the advances of beautiful women.”

“It is when there’s only one beautiful woman that I’m interested in. Are you coming over?”

Shit, bro, could you be any more anxious?

“No, that’s why I’m calling. Mona needs me to run some errands for her. It’s important. I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to make it.”

“You can come after. Sunset over the pool would look amazing on your skin.”

“Uhhh, thank you, but I’d better not.”

“I assume there’s nothing I can say to change your mind.”

I’m disappointed. Very disappointed. I wanted to see her again. Hell, right now it feels like I needed to see her again.

“No, I’m afraid not.”

I don’t push Katie and I certainly don’t tell her my plan, but I will be seeing her tonight. I just need to get ahold of Mona to find out where she’ll be.

NINETEEN

Katie

I’d already been nervous about agreeing to see Rogan again today, so when my phone rang, I was relieved that it was Mona. I wasn’t really looking for an excuse to back out of my date tonight, but when my friend practically handed me one, gift-wrapped, I jumped on it.

“White had me arrange a party for some of the cast on his boat. He wanted to spend the day out here and then take them all to that little private island for the rest of the night. The problem is, the liquor for the bar hasn’t arrived. Ro

“Okay, just calm down. What is it that you need me to do?”

“Could you go to the liquor store and pick up the things on the list I just texted you and bring it to the island? Please, please, please, please, please!”

“Mona, I don’t have a boat. How am I supposed to get it there?”

“It’s not a real island. They just call it that because it sticks out into the lake like an island. There’s a gated drive that leads to it from Downton Drive. Do you know where that is?”

“I know where it is. Give me an hour to get it and have it there for you. Will Ro

“I’ll tell him to wait for you. You’re a lifesaver, Katie! Have I ever told you that?”

I smiled. “I think you might’ve mentioned it a time or two.”

“Don’t leave until I get there, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll wait for you.”

That was over an hour ago. I called Rogan and then left right away.

The guy at the liquor store was more than happy to help me cram my vehicle with boxes of assorted liters of alcohol. I wondered if my little car would even be able to move when I drove out of the parking lot. Heaven forbid I break down or get into a wreck. It would surely look like I have an enormous drinking problem. It seems to be doing fine, though, as I carefully take each curve on the way to the lake.

I slow down as I search for the gated drive that will lead me to the “island.” Even though I’m watching for it, I cruise right by the entrance. I drive farther down the road, searching for a place to turn around. It seems there’s just a big bunch of nothing past the very private entrance to the island. Finally, I just stop, check my rearview for oncoming traffic, of which there is none since this isn’t exactly a well-traveled street, then I steer the car into a wide arc and perform about a six-point turn right in the middle of the road. I’m relieved when I don’t get caught or hit. On my return, I watch more carefully for the gate. From this angle, I see that it’s slightly ajar. Probably Ro

I smile as I think of him. The friendly redhead has been very very nice to me from day one at the studio. I see him almost every morning and he’s always kind and sweet.

The trees on either side of the road part farther, forming a clearing that boasts an amazing view of the lake. Six cheerfully-striped canvas cabanas housing intimate seating groups are set up in a semi-circle. They face a central tent in white canvas that covers several tables. Each is draped in linen and set with all kinds of food. Sitting along the back “wall” is a tiki bar.

I look around for signs of life. I don’t see Ro

I park sideways. I’m blocking the road, but I don’t really care. It’ll be easier to unload my car this way.

I lug the first of the boxes out of the trunk. I carry it toward the lake, between two cabanas and under the main tent to the bar at the back where I set it down on the ground. Dusting off my hands, I go to turn around. I yelp when I find Ro

“Wow!” he exclaims, his eyes raking me appreciatively from head to toe. “And I thought you looked amazing in work clothes.”

I didn’t think to change clothes before I left. Not that I would have. I mean, the jeans and scoop-necked tee I’m wearing are hardly indecent. They’re just a bit more . . . fitted than the clothes I normally wear to work, which consist of either loose cotton dresses or dress pants and blouses. Nothing fancy, nothing with much personality. It’s been years since I’ve dressed to impress anyone.

Until Rogan.

Damn it.

“Thanks,” I reply casually. “Wa

“Anything for you,” he declares with his easy smile.

A dozen boxes and enough liquor to rot a small town’s liver later, we are finished setting up the bar.

Ro

I put on my politely removed face. “I’d love to, but I can’t.”

“You sure?” he asks, walking to the bar and pulling out a clear liter. He disappears for a second and when his head pops back up, he’s holding two martini glasses, a shallow dish of something and a lemon. “I make a kick-ass lemon drop.”

I’m just about to reiterate my refusal when my phone rings. It’s Mona again.

“Did you get the liquor? Did you find the place? Was Ro

“Yes, yes and yes. Now breathe.”

So she does. She exhales so loudly I can hear it whooshing in my ear. “You are an angel. An absolute angel!”

Even though she can’t see me, I shrug. “It was no problem.”

“I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know. White would’ve . . . Ugh! Yeah. You know how that would’ve gone.”