The House on Mermaid Point

Chapter Sixteen

As if experiencing the altercation at the Lorelei hadn’t been enough Maddie discovered at breakfast the next morning that video of the confrontation had already gone viral.

“The world was a better place before everyone had a cell phone camera in their pocket and a determination to use it.” Nicole slid into the banquette beside Kyra, who had pulled the video up on her computer screen.

“Whoever shot this footage wasn’t more than a table away,” Kyra said, watching the ugly scene between William and the obnoxious fan couple play out.

“I can’t believe we didn’t realize what was going on,” Nicole said.

“I can’t believe you were right in the middle of it,” Kyra said.

“There wasn’t much to get in the middle of,” Maddie replied, unable to tear her eyes from the screen.

“Oh, God, look at this.” Kyra pulled up a clearly homemade interview with the still-belligerent Dan and Vera. Footage of Maddie holding the couple’s phone during the altercation had been cut into the piece. “Whoever put this together has some editing skills. Take a look at this ending.” Kyra turned the screen so that everyone could see the end of the video, which was a series of repeated shots of the flash going off as the blonde grabbed the phone from Maddie. It ended on an incredibly unflattering freeze-frame of Maddie’s surprised face.

“Great.” Maddie groaned. “I look totally ridiculous and technologically challenged.”

“Even worse,” Kyra said, rewinding the piece once again. “Given the fact that you’re standing right next to William, I doubt it took anyone who’s seen this more than two minutes to figure out that the next Do Over is taking place on Mermaid Point. The world—and its paparazzi—now knows we’re in Islamorada.”

After breakfast Avery and Deirdre spread their notes and sketches across the tabletop to prepare for that night’s presentation to William Hightower. Their collaboration after two long years of grappling with each other was startling. The lack of argument, chin tilting, and eyebrow raising was practically surreal.

Avery looked up to check her watch and caught all of them staring. “Get over it,” she said. “I almost have.”

Deirdre remained diplomatically silent.

“What’s this above the refrigerator?” Maddie pointed to one of the floor plans.

“It’s the staircase, or at least it will be if William approves this plan.” Avery tilted the drawings so Maddie could see them better. “You have way more practical kitchen experience than any of us. Which of these options do you think works better for a B-and-B scenario?”

Maddie studied the plans individually then slipped one piece of parchment paper under the other so that two of the halves appeared to join. “This would be a pleasure to work in. And I think turning out breakfast and hors d’oeuvres for a daily happy hour or occasional special dessert for the guests would be a snap. And this section”—she pointed to a stretch of counter—“could be outfitted so that guests could help themselves to drinks and coffee, maybe pop popcorn if they’re watching a movie or a big game.”

Avery nodded and scribbled notes on the parchment while Maddie tried to imagine William Hightower living with a steady stream of strangers invading his personal space. “You know, since we’re already planning to do over the master bedroom and bath and you’ve got so much space up there to work with, maybe we should create a living area with enough of a kitchen so that William wouldn’t have to come down to the communal area unless he wanted to.”

“That’s a great idea,” Nicole said.

Avery and Deirdre nodded their agreement.

“And I was thinking that it might be good to have dinner up at the house with Will tonight before we present the final plans. You know, to sort of soften him up a little bit,” Avery said.

“I offered to make filet of beef au poivre with a spectacular—” Deirdre began.

“But she can’t because it will probably take us all afternoon to get the presentation laid out,” Avery said, cutting her mother off. “And since someone hadn’t gotten around to asking to use the kitchen or the laundry room, I went ahead and asked Will and . . .” Avery hesitated only briefly before turning her gaze on Maddie. “I volunteered you to make dinner tonight.”

“Me?” Maddie was hoping she’d misheard.

“Will you do it, Mad?” Avery practically pleaded. “Hudson said he’d be glad to either take you to your car or pick up whatever you want from the grocery store.”

“But how will I know what I need without seeing what he has?” Okay, that didn’t sound right. “I mean, without looking in his refrigerator and pantry.”

Avery shrugged, her attention already back on the sketches. “You have permission to cook in the man’s kitchen, Maddie. I don’t think he’s going to object to you peeking in his pantry.”

Maddie’s peek into William Hightower’s pantry felt far less personal than it might have, had there been anything in it.

After a smile and nod of greeting, William had returned to the kitchen table, where he went back to doing whatever it was he was doing with the bits and pieces of, well, Maddie wasn’t sure exactly what they were, that spilled out of the tackle box and were spread out in front of him.

He didn’t look up when she opened his painfully empty pantry or even when she stuck her head into the equally echoing refrigerator, which contained a half-empty quart of milk that had passed its expiration date, an egg carton that held two eggs, jars of mustard and mayonnaise, and what looked like the remains of a pizza. The freezer was stuffed with fish.

“How do you live?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“Hm?” He looked up, his long fingers still twisting what looked like a strand of hair around a metal hook. Reading glasses were perched low on his nose, but they didn’t make him look anywhere near as safe or ordinary as they should have.

“There’s no food here.” She closed the refrigerator and turned to face him. “What do you do for meals?”

He studied her over the top of the glasses, which was oddly disconcerting.

“I can always catch fish when I want it. And, I don’t know . . .” He paused as if thinking about this for the first time. “I spent a lot of my life on the road, eating whatever got catered backstage. Or grabbing breakfast in some IHOP or Waffle House late after a show or the parties afterward.” He fixed her with a dark-eyed stare and she tried not to imagine how many women had been at those parties; how far they would have gone to get his attention.

“I’ve always been more interested in what I drank, smoked, sniffed, or snorted than what I ate.” His smile was wry. “Always been more thirsty than hungry. Except for when I got a case of the munchies.” He shrugged. “I guess my taste buds aren’t all that highly developed.”

His honesty surprised her and she found herself responding in kind. “Based on your pantry and refrigerator I’d say they stalled out somewhere around the age of fourteen. My son ate Cheerios, grilled cheese sandwiches, and anything that resembled pizza between the ages of fourteen and sixteen, so I know what I’m talking about.”

“I bet you do,” he said with a faint smile that left her wondering what it was about her that he found so amusing.

“Avery says you’re okay with letting us use the kitchen and laundry room on occasion.”

He shrugged.

“I know all of this is . . . well, I know you don’t really want us around.”

“I don’t.” He removed the glasses and set them aside. “Yet here you all are. It’s not like banishing you from my kitchen will make you go away.”

“Okay, then.” She whipped out the paper and pencil she’d stuck in her pocket. “What would you like for dinner tonight?” she asked, hoping it wouldn’t be something beyond her culinary abilities.

“I’m always up for Italian,” he said. “Do you do spaghetti and meatballs?”

“Well, I’m more of an assembler than a creator,” she said truthfully. “But if you can live with sauce from a jar and pasta out of a box, I’m pretty sure I can satisfy those fourteen-year-old taste buds of yours.”

The most genuine smile she’d seen yet lit up his face and stuck with Maddie all the way to the marina, through the grocery store, and back to Mermaid Point.