A Mum For Amy. Ann Evans

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СКАЧАТЬ her voice. She didn’t want to fight. She wanted to feel warm salt air on her cheeks and the tide tickling her toes. “I’ve got three Go Fish calls to make, and then—”

      “Go Fish,” her father said with a look of such disdain that Maggie wished she had simply walked out the front door and never stopped for a sip of juice. “What kind of silly name is that for a business? Like I said last night—”

      “James…” her mother cautioned. “Come eat your pancakes.”

      Maggie watched him concede to his wife, but she felt her own resentment swell. She refused to be bullied about the decisions she’d made, and he really was ruining this beautiful day.

      She looked her father right in the eye. “Give it up, Dad. I’m never going to change my major to accounting. I hate math, and I don’t want any career that puts me behind a desk forty hours a week. I need a creative outlet for my talent.”

      “What talent? You never do a task long enough to develop any.” He lifted his hand, spreading his fingers. “You gave up tennis after three lessons. The art classes we spent thousands of dollars on supplies for, you ditched after a month.” He ticked off each item. “Fencing. Kayak camp. You think those are careers?”

      “No, but with a degree in marine biology, I think I can morph Go Fish into one.”

      Her father made a face. “Oh, ridiculous. You think something called Go Fish is going to support you?”

      “Actually, Dad, by the end of this year, Go Fish is going to put enough money in my pocket to get me out of this house. Permanently. So I don’t think it’s very silly or ridiculous at all.”

      The beginnings of a blustering response came from the kitchen table, but Maggie had already turned and marched out of the room, smiling to herself. She didn’t often get the last word with her father.

      She drove her beat-up convertible down A1A. She loved this strip. It had so many moods as it wound past the faded glory of hotels that had been built in the sixties and through canyonlike corridors of condominiums that hugged some of the most expensive beachfront property in Florida. Every so often she caught a glimpse of the Atlantic, shining like a sliver of mirror behind the buildings, and her heart quickened, so eager was she to get there.

      Finally she turned into Will Stewart’s driveway. Her bad mood evaporated, replaced by the usual regret that she couldn’t seem to get along with her parents, couldn’t seem to be the daughter they wanted. But replaced, too, by a solid resolve to have some fun today, no matter what.

      The service calls she needed to make for Go Fish could wait. Tomorrow was soon enough to get back into harness and be responsible, wasn’t it? After all, she was her own boss and set her own hours.

      Sometimes she was still amazed that her love of exotic fish had turned her summer job into a viable enterprise. Go Fish, her home aquarium service company, only existed because of the determination and hard work she’d poured into it over the past year, all while trying to get used to freshman routines at the University of Miami.

      The rich might enjoy the look and luxury of having large tropical tanks in their homes, but they certainly didn’t want to take care of them. That’s where she had found a niche. Customers all along the coast paid her fifty dollars an hour just to scrape algae and change water, and whether her father wanted to admit it or not, business was good. Nearly every day she fielded calls from prospective clients. By year’s end, she intended to turn a profit. A hefty one.

      So there, Dad. Why isn’t that good enough for you?

      The front door opened as she hit the stoop, and Will Stewart was suddenly there, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a dark suit. She’d met him six months ago at a local trade show where she’d been passing out business cards. He didn’t own an aquarium, but he was the only one who’d come back to ask questions about Go Fish. They’d been together ever since.

      Maggie went into his arms eagerly. “Kiss me,” she said, nuzzling his neck and inhaling expensive aftershave. “I need to know someone cares.”

      He laughed at that and pulled her close. He kissed her with such great and tender skill that she felt as if she were going to die.

      But when she brought her hands up to his chest, he caught her fingers. “Don’t play with my tie,” he ordered. “I just got it the way I want.”

      She looked down at it, wrinkling her nose at the bland, dark blue material. Last month, she’d bought him one with iguanas painted on it by an artist friend of hers, but she’d yet to see him wear it. “Too conservative.”

      “Then it’s perfect,” he said with a smile.

      She loved having Will for a boyfriend. Full of charm and confidence, he was as handsome as any woman could want, but blessed with absolutely no arrogance about his looks. Just out of school, he’d recently been hired by one of Miami’s most prestigious architectural firms. He wasn’t the kind of man Maggie would have expected to be attracted to, but right now she thought she was one lucky girl to have him in her life. And every day she found herself wanting more.

      She longed to sink deeper into his embrace, but Will pulled away, letting his hands rest on Maggie’s hips. She caught movement in the background and realized that Lisa, his thirteen-year-old sister, also stood in the foyer.

      “Hi, there,” Maggie said with a waving ruffle of fingers. “What are you up to today?”

      “Chores,” Lisa complained. She pointed to her brother. “Make him stop being mean to me.”

      Will kept his back to his sister and seemed immune to her claim of abuse. “Say hello, Lisa. Then get busy cleaning your room.”

      After their parents had died in a car accident three years ago, Will had assumed responsibility for Lisa. Maggie knew there had been mutiny brewing in the girl lately but she felt a little sorry for her. Lisa was at a tough age, and didn’t like being ordered around by her big brother, but sometimes Will just didn’t seem to understand.

      Instead of responding, Lisa snorted, crossed her arms and remained where she was.

      Deciding it was best not to be dragged into whatever beef Lisa had with her brother, Maggie turned her attention back to Will. “Play hooky today,” she begged him. “Come to the beach with me.”

      “Can’t. I’ve got a big presentation to make for Watkins and Company.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m supposed to be in Pompano Beach in twenty minutes.”

      Maggie frowned. Will would be a fine architect someday, but so far, he was still interning and considered strictly second-tier. “You’re presenting?”

      “Don’t sound so shocked. I’m doing part of it, anyway. Jacobson thinks I can connect with Watkins because he and my father were both Yale grads.”

      That didn’t sound promising beachwise, and there was something unbendable in Will’s manner. But Maggie was nothing if not inventive. With one fingertip, she played with the edge of his mouth. “So can’t you slip away after a while? Meet me at our usual spot? You know which one I mean?”

      She lifted her brow, reminding him of the quiet, secluded section of the beach she had in mind. The place they’d discovered just last week, in fact.

      Will caught her finger and touched his lips СКАЧАТЬ