Back to Before Page 5

  “And so she can afford her shopaholic ways,” said the girl standing behind Bernice. The dark-haired teen was big-boned with a layer of pubescent pudginess still clinging to her body, further accentuated by the ridiculously tight clothes she wore. Keen amber eyes peered out from beneath long lashes brittle with multiple coats of mascara. Her skin was flawless for a high school student, at least the part of it that could be seen beneath the cover of heavy, Goth makeup. Teenage insolence practically radiated out of the girl’s body, and Ginger wondered how a girl so young could already look so cynical.

  “You hush, now, Cassidy Burroughs,” Bernice said. “You could learn a few things about fashion from the likes of me.”

  Cassidy snorted a response before tilting her face back down toward the screen of her cell phone where she typed out a message using her purple nails.

  “Did you ask her yet?” Bernice whispered loudly, leveling her gaze at Ginger.

  Gavin ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, a look of vexation passing over his face. “Another time, Bernice. Right now, I need to get this gunk on my face so I can get over to the mansion and film a scintillating installment on indoor plumbing.” He gave Ginger a slow wink.

  “Oh, you’ll never do it,” she said, stepping in front of him to extend her hand to Ginger. “Hello, Destiny. I’m Bernice Reed.”

  “It’s Ginger,” Gavin and Ginger said at the same time.

  Cassidy looked up from her cell phone and raised a pierced eyebrow. Gavin’s face looked chagrined.

  “Yes, of course,” Bernice continued, patting Ginger’s hand. “Not only am I the office manager for McAlister E and C, but I’m also on the organizing committee for our town’s Founders’ Day celebration. This year, it’s going to coincide with the completion of the Dresden House renovations and the kickoff of Miles McAlister’s campaign for United States Congress. Can you imagine that? First Ryan McAlister becomes a big league baseball player; then Gavin here is Cosmo’s Bachelor of the Month and gets his own TV show; and soon Miles will be elected to Congress. All three of the McAlister boys are going to be famous!”

  Gavin groaned. “Bernice, we don’t have time for this.”

  “Jealous, much,” Cassidy muttered.

  Gavin shot the teenager a menacing look.

  “Anyway,” Bernice said, “we’re planning a huge parade. Miles will be the grand marshal, of course, but we need a female celebrity to lead the procession as well. And I thought, since you’re here in town, you could help us out.”

  Bernice prattled on and Ginger wasn’t sure what to think. Was this town so backwater that its residents thought that a few months on a soap opera made her celebrity? At the same time, it was an incredibly flattering offer. Her ego had been in tatters these past few months and the little boost felt good.

  “Well, will you do it, dear?” Bernice asked. Ginger nodded, trying not to grin like a fool. Bernice clapped her hands together delightedly. “I told you she’d do it, Gavin! If anyone can get Savannah Rich to be the queen of our little parade, your little makeup artist can.”

  FOUR

  The color left Ginger’s face just as swiftly as the rain had washed the chalk drawings off the sidewalks in front of the studio. She turned quickly to hide her eyes, but not before Gavin saw what looked like disappointment shadowed in them. He’d tried to stop his office manager, but everyone in Chances Inlet knew you’d have more luck stopping a hurricane than stopping Bernice Reed when she was on a mission.

  Bernice gushed on about the parade and soap operas, but Ginger politely ignored her. She pulled the makeup out of the case with a little more force than was necessary and the haphazard braid hanging at the side of her head looked as if it might come undone at any moment. Just the sight of her in the small dressing room had chased away the chill from his damp body. Dressed in a bright yellow cardigan with an orange T-shirt beneath it, navy leggings that hugged her well-defined legs and shiny pink polka-dot rain boots, she looked like a box of crayons, bringing color to what had been an otherwise dreary day.

  Harry Franklin was a pain in the ass. If there was a crack in his boathouse foundation, Gavin couldn’t find it. He’d nearly taken a dip in the freezing Cape Fear River this morning looking for one. His father’s friend was taking advantage of whatever camaraderie the two had once shared, but Gavin was walking a fine line right now with the reputation of McAlister C & E. His father had used some creative accounting with the firm’s books in order to secure a loan to refurbish the inn for his mother. Harry Franklin had paid his bill on time. Donald McAlister had simply diverted the funds elsewhere. Gavin was sure his father had meant to put the money back; he just hadn’t foreseen the severe economic recession on the horizon. It was left to Gavin to pay off the loan and explain things to the bank examiners and the IRS, all while protecting his father’s reputation with his clients, his employees and his family.

  And now sweet Bernice had unintentionally hurt the one person who actually made this whole TV gig interesting. He’d tried to shake his posse before he got to the dressing room, hoping to finally get a few uninterrupted minutes with Ginger, but he just couldn’t catch a break where she was concerned. Gavin squeezed at the headache forming at the base of his skull. “Bernice, maybe you should get back to the office in case—oh, I don’t know—a client calls or something.”

  Cassidy snorted behind Bernice.

  “And you,” he said to Cassidy. “Can you please go take Midas out to pee.”

  The teenager’s face lit up. “Is he up in the loft?”

  “No. He’s in my office.”

  “But I really need to post a picture of your loft to your Twitter account.”

  “I don’t have a Twitter account, Cassidy.” The pressure at the back of Gavin’s skull was beginning to mount.

  “Yeah, you do. I set one up for you as soon as you signed on for the show. You have over five thousand followers, most of them single women. Amanda even follows you. I thought about blocking her, but I figured it would serve your runaway bride right to know that you’re becoming a TV star. You’ve already had twelve marriage proposals via Twitter. A couple women just want to have your baby. Bernice is keeping a spreadsheet.”

  Flabbergasted, Gavin looked at Bernice, who nodded her head proudly.

  Ah, hell. “Ladies, didn’t we have a little chat about boundaries the other day?”

  Not for the first time since he’d arrived back in Chances Inlet, the women of this town were trying to take over his life. He couldn’t get back to New York and his previous world soon enough. But first he needed to film today’s segment over at Dresden House. After that, he still had a couple of hours of paperwork to finish before his meetings with the accountant and then the bank in Wilmington.

  “Come on, ladies,” Audra said while ushering Bernice and Cassidy out of the room. “Why don’t we let Ginger get to work, not that Gavin needs much help looking handsome.”

  Gavin shot Audra a grateful smile as he slid into the tall director’s chair.

  The dance instructor poked her head back into the room. “By the way, Ginger, I left a key to the front door on the counter for you. The studio is yours to use anytime you want.”

  “Thanks,” Ginger said. “But I’m sure I’ll be too busy with work to have time to do any dancing while I’m here.”

  “Keep the key just in case,” Audra said with a knowing smile before disappearing toward the strains of piano music resonating from the main studio.

  Gavin ran his fingers through his hair giving his head a squeeze. “Ugh. Sorry about that. Welcome to life in a small town.”

  Ginger carefully dragged a small triangular sponge through the powdered makeup, but she didn’t say anything. He’d hoped to continue the flirtatious conversation they’d begun yesterday, but it seemed he was going to be treated to the silent treatment. Damn Bernice.

  “Hey,” Gavin said. “Just tell Bernice the soap star is busy that day. Miles doesn’t need arm candy beside him on a parade float to ge
t this town’s vote.”

  She paused in her preparation of the sponge. “Sounds to me like Cassidy might be right and you don’t want to share the town’s adoration with your brother.”

  What? No matter how hard he tried, Gavin would never understand what went on in the minds of women. He’d meant to be nice and this was the thanks he got.

  “You’re way off the mark here, sweetheart,” he said, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “I’m not jealous of either of my brothers.” Sure, he was pretty pissed that he had to deal with his father’s mess while they continued on with their lives and careers outside of the prying eyes of Chances Inlet, but she didn’t need to know that. “They can have statues of themselves erected along Main Street for all I care. All I want to do with my life is get back to being an architect. I don’t give a crap about being a celebrity.”

  One of her delicate eyebrows arched as she held up the sponge laced with stage makeup. “Says Cosmo’s Bachelor of the Month who’s doing a television restoration show that will be seen by millions.”

  Gavin leaped from the chair. “I didn’t ask for that stupid thing in Cosmo. My sister Elle was an intern there and she put them up to it. And I’m sure as hell not doing this damn show to end up on the cover of another magazine! Why can’t anybody understand that? I’m doing it because my father mortgaged his company to the hilt and the only way out is to restore Dresden House and sell it before my mother loses the inn.”

  Ginger’s eyes widened and Gavin realized that in his anger, he’d shared too much. Way too much. Worse, he’d told his secret to a stranger—one who lived at his mother’s inn and who, if she let it slip, could devastate the one person he was trying so hard to protect. Damn! He needed to change the subject quickly, to distract her somehow. They were standing inches apart, her unique scent pulling his body a hint closer to hers as the attraction between them sizzled. Gavin knew how he’d really like to distract her, but he didn’t think she’d agree to being dragged upstairs to his loft. Even if he got her up there, he wasn’t sure he could let her go—not when they were due at Dresden House in a half an hour. So he settled for old-fashioned charm instead.

  “Besides,” he murmured, fingering the soft hair at the tip of her braid. “One sexy soap star is enough for this town.”

  She drew in a tight breath, following it with a sigh that was barely audible, but loud enough to make Gavin tight all over. Exercising sheer will, he reluctantly took a step back and folded his now-painful body into the director’s chair. Ginger gave her head another one of those little shakes before taking the makeup sponge between her thumb and forefinger.

  “Actually, I think this town could use a little dose of the real Savannah Rich.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

  He contemplated her a moment. “Something tells me they won’t like what they get.”

  She shrugged, but the corners of her mouth lifted up into a cat-ate-the-canary grin.

  Gavin chuckled as he relaxed against the back of the chair. “In that case, I say bring her on.”

  Ginger stepped closer, her hip brushing against his thigh as her hand stretched up toward his cheek. Heat flared in his groin again and he flinched as her body made contact with his. She yanked her hand back, a soft blush spreading over her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry. I . . . This is my first time,” she stammered. “I mean, my first time doing it this way.”

  Closing his eyes, Gavin fought back a groan as her words led his sexually charged mind and body down an erotic path.

  “Seriously?” she asked. His face must have conveyed the X-rated thoughts streaming behind his eyelids because she was sounding flustered. Flustered and incredibly sexy. “I swear all men are jerks sometimes.” Scratch that—definitely more angry than flustered. Gavin forced his eyes open. Pink still stained her cheeks, but he was pretty sure embarrassment wasn’t the cause any longer.

  “What I’m trying to tell you,” she bit out, “is that I’ve only done makeup for stage performances and not for cameras.” She threw the sponge down on the counter. “I don’t know what Diesel was thinking when he asked me to do this,” she mumbled to herself.

  Gavin reached out and gently took her wrist between his fingers. Her skin was soft and warm. “Hey,” he said as he brushed his thumb along her rapidly beating pulse point. He’d meant to distract her, not make her feel worse than Bernice already had. “I’m sorry. But I’m a guy and you’re an attractive woman. You’re right. Men are jerks.” Her chin rose up a notch. “If it’s any consolation here, this is my first time, too. So we’re both”—Gavin swallowed hard—“uh, rookies. As long as you don’t make me look like the Incredible Hulk, I think we’ll be okay. After all, Dresden House is the star of the show, right?”

  * * *

  Ginger glanced down to where Gavin’s fingers encircled her wrist. He had nice hands, strong, yet sensual. Sensual? Cheese and crackers, what is happening to me today? She’d applied makeup to men dozens of times before without ever experiencing anything close to the sexual tension coursing through her body right now. Gavin was simply a man who had every woman in town wrapped around his finger. She needed to stop acting like his flirting meant something more. Diesel was counting on her to get the job done. “Right,” she said with a decisive nod.

  Gavin gave her one of his devastating grins before releasing her and settling back into the chair. “I’ll just close my eyes and sit still while you work your magic. Maybe it would help us both relax if you told me a little about yourself. I’m not much of a soap opera fan, so the rest of Chances Inlet has an advantage over me.”

  She picked up the sponge with one hand while reaching up to brush his damp hair off his forehead with the other. “That’s probably something you should be proud of.”

  He grinned again and she forced herself to concentrate on her work instead of the satiny feel of his thick hair between her fingers.

  “Start with your name—Ginger. Is it your real name or a stage name?” He seemed genuinely interested.

  “My real name, unfortunately.”

  His eyelids snapped open. “Why ‘unfortunately’? Because you’re named after a cookie?” His eyes dilated briefly. “Or a stripper?”

  She tried to scowl at him, but his teasing brought out that sexy dimple next to his lips and the heat in her belly ratcheted up a degree or two. “Neither. I’m named after Ginger Rogers, the dancer.”

  Ginger braced herself for the familiar laughter that usually accompanied the explanation of her name, but none came. He just looked at her expectantly.

  “My mother emigrated from Russia with her family when she was a teenager. She and her parents were ballet dancers and they owned a traveling dance company. My mom still runs it today, in fact,” she explained. “She grew up watching old movies of Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire and she vowed if she ever had a daughter, she’d name her Ginger.”

  “Don’t tell me you have a brother named Fred who dances in the ballet company.”

  “No.” She laughed as she dabbed the sponge along his jawline. “Griffin hasn’t been in a pair of tights since he picked up a camera when he was ten.”

  “Wait—are you talking about Griffin Walsh, the photographer? He’s your brother?”

  “Yep.” She gestured to the sleeves of his blue button-down shirt. “I’m going to need you to roll those up so I can put makeup on your hands.”

  He stared at her blankly.

  “The director said he’ll want some close-ups of your hands near the pipes today.”

  He heaved an exasperated sigh as though he thought this whole process ridiculous. “So neither of you chose to carry on with the family business?” he asked as he carefully rolled his sleeves up. Ginger wasn’t sure, but she thought she detected a bit of jealousy in his tone. From what he said before, he obviously resented having to take over his father’s business, but, like her, he was close to resuming his life and his career. Ironically, both of them were depending on the restoration of a two-hundred-year-old mansion t
o achieve it.

  “Mine wasn’t a choice,” she said as she brushed powder along his neat fingers. “I danced professionally all my life until I busted up my ankle and had to have surgery. Afterward, I couldn’t dance the same. Oh, crap.” She stared at his neck, her eyes lowering to the smooth skin peeking out beneath the buttons of his shirt. Her hands were going to have to touch him there. They tingled at the prospect. “I—I should have done your neck before I did your hands. You’ll get makeup on your shirt now if you unbutton it.”

  His lips turned up in a slow, seductive grin. “I guess you’ll have to do the honors, then.”

  Ginger’s fingers trembled slightly as she slid the two buttons free and pushed back the sides of his shirt to reveal tanned skin covering a well-defined chest. A lick of pure want scrambled down her spine as she watched his nipples pucker. Both their breathing hitched when her thumb brushed against his skin as she stroked the makeup sponge along the column of his neck and below. She could feel his eyes on her hand, but she didn’t dare look at him.

  He swallowed and she watched, mesmerized, as the muscles in his throat contracted. “I busted up my knee in college,” he said softly. “I always dreamed of playing pro football, but then I had to change gears. So I know what it’s like to have to redefine oneself. In my case, multiple times.”

  She did look at him then, her hand still poised on his bare chest while her fingers itched to touch what lay beneath the sponge. Perceptive hazel eyes met hers. Perhaps he did understand this crazy quarter-life crisis that she was experiencing. Maybe there was more than just sexual chemistry pulling them together. The thought was both oddly reassuring and frustrating at the same time. Because, at this moment, she wasn’t sure she could spend the next eighty-three days resisting this man.

  “Ahem.”

  Ginger nearly dropped the makeup sponge as she jumped away from Gavin. Cassidy stood in the doorway, a belligerent scowl aimed at Ginger. “If you two are finished in here, Ronnie and Morgan need to get their makeup done. Diesel wants me to bring you over to Dresden House now, Gavin. Gidget here can ride over with Ronnie after she manages to wrestle some makeup on Morgan.”