My heart races, looking at all their expectant faces. “What exactly were you working on with my dad? I found these sketches in his drawer.” I swivel around, grabbing the folder from the counter and toss it on the table.
“That a boy. Take the reins. I like your take-charge attitude.” Bill pats my shoulder and I suck in a deep breath before I pass out.
The weight of responsibility and expectations to be like my father weigh heavy on my shoulders.
“When do I need it ready by?” I ask him.
Lucas sits down in the remaining chair at the table, his interest piqued. He pats his lap and Tahlia takes a seat, staring down at the plans.
“Would you like me to get you a chair?” I ask Caterina.
“I could just sit on your lap,” she says with a bat of her mascara-coated eyelashes.
Tahlia's head whips around. “Cat!” she scolds like she’s her mother.
Her real mother has her eyes closed and her fingers rubbing the bridge of her nose like she’s praying for patience.
Caterina shrugs her shoulders, saunters over to the table, bending forward, giving me a clear view down her blouse.
I quickly glance away and return my attention back to Bill who's smiling wide at his daughter. “Nice that you're taking an interest, Caterina,” he comments. Tahlia rolls her eyes, scoffing at the compliment.
I don’t even know these people, and I can tell that Caterina has the wool pulled over her father’s eyes. He’s beaming at her like she’s as innocent as a nun, but it’s obvious that nothing could be farther from the truth.
“Well, Marcus here makes it sound very interesting. Maybe I could do an internship.” She twirls her hair around her finger, and slides her tongue along her bottom lip.
I shift in my seat because my body should not respond to her.
“How old are you, Caterina?” I ask.
“She's eighteen.” Tahlia answers with a stern voice. My eyes snap back down to the blueprints.
“When did you say you needed this, Bill?” I concentrate only on him from there on out.
“A month.”
Shit, one month to finish restoring a boat. I hope my dad's looking down on me to guide me because only a miracle is going to get me through this.
Seven
I'm dressed in my rented tuxedo, and I stand on the dock of a high-end marina in San Francisco taking in the finished product. I never really thought I'd finish, nor did I realize the sense of accomplishment I would feel when I did.
I've called Climax Cove home for the past month and Betty was right, it's not so awful. People greet you by your first name when you walk down the street and ask how the boat is coming along, do I need anything, is there something they can do to help?
“There you are,” a soft girly voice echoes through the dark night.
I look to my side to see Caterina approaching me—her heels in her hands, her bare feet barely making a noise on the wooden planks below.
“Caterina,” I say. I haven't seen her since that day at the shop a month ago. Bill came up once to check on the progress, but he came by himself.
“You can call me, Cat.” I have to assume the girl has no idea what personal space is being that I can feel her arm brushing against the fabric of my tuxedo jacket. “You did an amazing job. People are already razzing each other over who is going to win it,” she comments from my side.
I nod. “Let's hope so.” I turn away from the boat, to walk back up to the venue. There's dinner and drinks being served in the main building and being alone with my first satisfied client's much too young daughter is not a bright move. “I'm going to join everyone else.” I nod toward the large building set on the hillside overlooking the marina.
Her feet stay planted on the dock, blocking my way. I move to the side and she steps in front of me. When I step to the other side, she follows my movement and presses her ample chest to mine.
“Caterina,” I say, a note of warning in my voice.
“It’s Cat, remember?” She giggles and bites down on her bottom lip.
My gaze can’t help but track the movement. Fuck does this girl ever have the seduction thing down. Regardless I need to make it clear that I won’t be crossing any line with her that will jeopardize what I may or may not want to build for myself with my dad’s business.
“Listen. I'm not looking for anything right now. Besides, we’re in two different places. You're just starting your life, probably getting ready for college and I’m long past that point.”
She smiles and nods, her eyes appearing as soft as a kitten—so trusting and curious. “How about after this is over, I come over to your hotel room?”
My hands come to rest on her bare shoulders. Stupid move. It was meant to be a stern gesture but now all I can feel is how soft her skin is underneath my fingertips. With effort, I turn my expression to stone and stare down at her. “I'm sorry, Caterina, but you're my client's daughter, not to mention the fact that you’re jailbait.”
“I'm eighteen.” She shrugs my hands off and her fingers undo the button of my jacket. “That's legal.” She shrugs and I get the distinct impression that even if she wasn’t already eighteen it wouldn’t matter to her one bit.
I take her hand off my jacket and place it back down at her side. “Barely legal.”
“Semantics.”
I shake my head. “It's not going to happen.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I’ve never been so happy for an interruption in my life. Even when I see that it’s Gretchen's number flashing on my screen. I can’t imagine what she wants. I haven't heard from her in over a month but I’ll take whatever excuse I can get to extract myself from this situation with Cat before her dad hangs me from a buoy in the middle of the Pacific.
I place my finger up in the air, sliding past Caterina now that she's letting me get by, though I hear her footsteps follow behind me.
“Gretchen?” I answer.
“Marcus,” she says, her voice shaky and trembling.
“What's the matter?” The speed of my steps increase and detour off the path once I reach the end of the dock, not wanting Caterina to overhear my conversation.
Thankfully, she lets me escape, and I watch her meet up with some friend once she climbs the stairs to the deck attached to the building.
“You aren't here,” she says panic in her voice. “I drove to Climax Cove and you aren't here. I don't have enough gas or money to get back to Portland.”
“Gretchen, why are you in Climax Cove?” I ask and a strangled sound rumbles over the receiver.
“Where are you?” she asks, ignoring my question.
“I'm in San Francisco for the night. I'll be back tomorrow. Why are you there?” I start pacing along the cement walkway that leads through the trees lining the building, my heart racing wondering what has her so rattled.
I hear her inhale a deep breath and then she says the words that I know will change my life forever. “Marcus, I'm pregnant.”
That racing heart sinks to the depths of my stomach.
“Pregnant?” I whisper.
“Yes,” she responds just as quietly. She sniffs into the phone and I think she must be crying.