Page 11 of Pity Parade

He doesn’t seem to believe me because he says, “Maybe we can have coffee together sometime this summer.”

“I don’t think so.” Crossing my arms across my chest, I add, “Unless you’re suddenly interested in more than just a physical connection.” My knees nearly give way as soon as the words are out of my mouth. Not only do I sound like a librarian fresh out of Victorian times, but I somehow make it sound like I want to go out with him again.

“I was just suggesting coffee, Trina.” His words wash over me like a river of warm molasses. “But if you find that an offensive suggestion, we can certainly not have coffee.” His eyes rake over me like his mind is traveling to the most lascivious of places.

My inner voice yells out, Kick him! Pretend he’s Tony Trench and rack him up! Send him to the hospital! Instead, I go with, “I think we should make a deal.”

He sounds way too intrigued as he asks, “What kind of deal?”

“I think we should pretend we don’t know each other and that we have no intention of getting to know each other.” I wave my hand around like I’m performing some kind of magical act that will make him disappear. “You, go off and do you. And I’ll pretend I can’t see you.”

“Surely, we’re more mature than that?” Again with the playful tone.

Shaking my head, I tell him, “I am, but I’m not sure you are. So, do we have a deal?” I reach out my hand in his direction. I immediately regret the action when he steps forward and touches me. An honest-to-God electric jolt shoots out of his hand that nearly sends me flying backwards.

“I, Heath Fox, agree to avoid you at all costs, Miss Rockwell. That is, unless you change your mind.” He gives me a side eye that makes it perfectly clear what he’s insinuating.

Ripping my hand out of his, I gasp, “I will not change my mind.”

His grin broadens and his eyes sparkle with merriment. Bowing slightly at the waist, he says, “Then I wish you a lovely summer, Trina.”

I hungrily eye the water and consider jumping into it to cool off.

“Will I see you tonight at the fish fry?” he asks.

“You might see me, but according to our agreement we will not be speaking.” Then in the most righteous huff I can manage, I spin around, lose my balance, and fall into the lake after all.

CHAPTER SIX

HEATH

After making sure Trina wasn’t hurt when she fell off the dock, I laugh all the way back to my cottage. Holy heck, that was one energizing exchange, and she is one refreshing and attractive woman, even more so than I’ve recollected this past year.

The truth is that during our charity date, the beautiful Miss Rockwell made me feel things I was uncomfortable feeling. I don’t normally go around trying to make a bad impression on the opposite sex. And even though I do let my dates know up front that I’m not looking for anything serious, my execution is normally a lot more suave than it was with her.

After taking a shower, I change into some fresh dockers and a polo shirt in preparation for tonight’s fish fry. Not only am I looking forward to seeing Trina again, but I’d like to meet some other people from town. Who knows, they might have the inside scoop on fun summer activities I’ve not already thought of.

At five thirty on the nose, I walk out my front door and immediately look for Trina’s car. She appears to have already left. Putting the address for the club into my map app, I decide to take the longest route and learn a bit more about my surroundings.

When I stayed here with my family, we rarely went into town for anything other than groceries and ice cream. We cooked all our suppers on the grill located on the deck and we spent most of our days playing in the lake. It was truly idyllic.

Even going the long way, I arrive at the country club before the fish fry starts. Pulling into a parking spot near the front door, I get out of my car and follow the signs that lead around the back of the clubhouse. Servers, wearing khaki shorts and green polo shirts, are busily setting tables stationed across the expansive lawn.

A tall blond man, who looks like a California transplant, waves before approaching me. “We’re not quite ready, but if you’d like you can go to the bar and get a drink.”

“Thanks. Do you happen to know the protocol here? I’m not a member but I understand that’s not a concern tonight.”

He sticks his hand out to shake mine. “I’m Tim Fields. My family owns the club. And yes, tonight, all are welcome.”

“I’m just here for the summer,” I tell him. “Getting out of the city for a few months.”

“I can say with some certainty that you’re in the right place if you’re looking to clear some headspace.” He explains, “I recently moved back here from Los Angeles.”

I totally nailed the California thing. “Elk Lake must be quite a change from LA.”

He nods his head. “It’s nice to be home where people say what they mean and don’t always have a hidden agenda.”

I think about my life in Chicago and realize it’s probably not that dissimilar from LaLa Land. If you have something people want, they will gladly use you. “I’m really looking forward to this evening,” I tell him. “I just got here today, and it seems like the whole town is talking about it.”

---