Maid for Love Page 10

  "I'm not going to dinner."

  "See you then." He tweaked Thomas's foot and kissed Libby's cheek on the way out the door. "You girls have fun."

  "Oh, we will," Libby assured him. "Don't worry about a thing."

  They listened as he started his motorcycle and headed down the driveway to the main road.

  "Ugh!" Maddie said. "He's the most aggravating person I've ever met!"

  Libby raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

  "He's bossy and pushy and—"

  "Totally smitten," Libby said with a smug smile.

  "What?"

  "You heard me. He's got it bad for you."

  "He does not."

  "I've known him a long time, Maddie. I've never seen him look at any woman the way he looks at you."

  Unable to process that tidbit on top of all the other emotions storming around inside her, Maddie shifted Thomas onto her shoulder and used her good hand to burp him.

  Libby perched on the end of the bed. "He's one of the best guys I know. You'd be a very lucky girl to end up with him."

  "It'll never happen." Why was she even bothering to have this conversation? Like her "relationship" with Mac, it was pointless. "Linda McCarthy will never allow her golden boy to end up with the likes of me."

  Libby laughed. "The McCarthy brothers have made a blood sport of defying their mother all their lives. If she doesn't like you, that'll make you even more attractive to him."

  "Great, that's just what I need—a guy who wants me only because his mother hates me."

  "That's not the only reason he wants you."

  "Right. He wants the same thing every other guy wants."

  "You'll underestimate him if you think that poorly of him, Maddie. Look at what he's gone to do for you today. Do you think just any guy would do that?"

  Maddie hated to admit that Libby had a point, but she wasn't about to convince one of his oldest friends that she didn't believe his intentions were entirely honorable. "You really don't have to stay if you have other stuff to do."

  Libby reached for Thomas. "There's nothing I'd rather do."

  Mac couldn't believe it had finally happened to him, but he suspected he'd probably fallen in love with Maddie at some point in the last twenty-four hours. Since he'd never been in love before, he couldn't say for sure. But he hadn't ever felt anything even close to what happened to him when she looked at him with those caramel eyes that gave away her every emotion, especially those she didn't want him to see.

  He'd never given much thought to being a father. He'd just assumed that, like the true love other people went crazy over, it wasn't going to happen for him, and he'd been fine with that. But now he was imagining playing baseball with Thomas and teaching him how to fish and drive a boat and throw a football. How could it have happened so fast? That was the part he didn't get.

  After nearly thirty-five entanglement-free years, here he was wrapped in a net so tight it should've been strangling him. Instead, as he steered the bike toward North Harbor, all he felt was exhilaration and determination to do whatever it took to make it work. She said she didn't want it—didn't want him—but he'd show her how wrong she was. He knew she felt the same way about him. He knew it. Now he just had to find a way to convince her that his intentions were sincere.

  A stab of fear nearly knocked him off the bike. What if he couldn't do it? What if she was just too scarred from past hurts to take a chance on him? What if he'd waited all this time to find her only to lose her before he ever had her? That couldn't happen. He wouldn't let it.

  Shaking off those unpleasant thoughts, he took a right turn into the hotel parking lot.

  On the spacious front porch, decorated with white wicker furniture and pots that exploded with colorful, fragrant blooms, guests enjoyed morning coffee and a pristine view of North Harbor. Entering the hotel was like taking a step back in time: dark paneling on the walls and ceiling, potted palms, Victorian-era furniture and well-worn carpet. Large ceiling fans kept the harbor breeze moving through the lobby, dining room and lounge that made up the spacious first floor.

  A sweeping staircase led to the second floor, and from that a small stairway took guests to the third floor. No elevators, no air conditioning and not a television or telephone to be found. Mac's mother, who managed the hotel, believed in providing a place where guests could truly escape the rigors of modern-day life.

  Mac bounded downstairs to the housekeeping department. The smell of laundry detergent and the whir of washing machines and dryers greeted him as he made his way to Ethel's office at the end of the long hallway.

  She was just as he remembered her—wiry build, wrinkled face, a row of studs lining one ear and dyed red hair that looked like it had been shocked into standing straight up. Mac and his brothers used to speculate endlessly about her sexuality. Grant was convinced she was a lesbian, but Adam swore he once saw her making out with a guy on the town beach. That comment had brought about much moaning, groaning and eye scrubbing.

  Ethel lumbered to her feet to greet him with a fierce hug. As always, she reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" she asked in that raspy smoker's voice that Evan imitated so well.

  "How are ya, Ethel?"

  "Oh, you know, arthritic and constipated. Nothing new."

  Mac winced at the information overload. Grant would howl when he heard that one.

  "What brings you down to the bowels?"

  Interesting choice of words, he thought, suppressing an inappropriate chuckle. "I'm filling in for Maddie Chester today." Over Ethel's shoulder, he spied the time clock. "I need to punch in on her card."

  Ethel stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "You can't be serious."

  "Sure am. I knocked her off her bike by accident yesterday. She's banged up pretty bad and can't work. All she's worried about is losing her job, so I told her I'd cover for her until she can get back to it."

  "But, you… You can't! Your people own this place. What will folks say?"

  "What do I care?"

  "Your mother will care."

  "That's her problem." Mac stepped around Ethel, found Maddie's timecard and punched in. "Now, where am I supposed to be?"

  They engaged in a visual standoff, but Mac refused to blink.

  Finally, Ethel said, "I'll need to shift some things around."

  "Whatever Maddie normally does is fine. No special treatment."

  Mac couldn't believe that Ethel actually looked guilty and wondered what that was all about. He joined the other housekeepers, who were filling gigantic baskets in a crowded stockroom. He met Betty, Sylvia, Patty, Sarah, Maude and Daisy, all of whom were wearing yellow dresses and white aprons. Maddie would look some kind of sexy in that getup, he thought before pushing the image aside and focusing on the filling of the baskets. Mac wondered how some of them managed to carry the heavy load up three flights of stairs. He wondered how Maddie did it.

  Ethel handed out room assignment sheets to the women and Mac. As he scanned the long list, it suddenly occurred to him that this was not going to be as easy as he'd thought.

  "This is Mac," Ethel said begrudgingly. He noted she didn't mention his last name, which was just as well. "He's filling in for Maddie, who'll be out a couple days."

  The other women, who ranged from twenty to sixty, gave him the once-over with a mixture of curiosity and blatant interest.

  A young blonde sidled up to him. "What's wrong with Maddie?" she whispered as Ethel continued to bark out orders and reminders about Sunday changeover and DNA.

  Keeping his voice down, Mac gave her the abbreviated version of the story.

  "So you're filling in for her? That's so nice." She lowered her voice even further. "No one's ever nice to Maddie. It makes me really mad. She's the sweetest girl."

  "Yes, she is," Mac said, touched by the tiny woman's loyalty to Maddie. It warmed him to know she had at least one friend on the island.

  "Daisy!" Ethel barked. "Are you listening to me?"
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  Daisy quaked in her sneakers. "Yes, ma'am."

  "Take room 303 from Mac's list," Ethel said.

  "It must be bad," Daisy whispered to him. "Maddie always gets the grossest rooms."

  Mac fumed when he heard that. Things were going to change around here after today. "That's not necessary, Ethel," he said. "I've got it."

  Daisy glanced up at him with an expression of awe and fear. Apparently, no one dared to cross the mighty Ethel. To hell with that. His parents owned the place. She couldn't intimidate him.

  "I want Daisy to do it."

  "I'll do it."

  Another visual standoff. Again, Mac refused to blink.

  "Fine," Ethel said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Have at it. Get to work, everyone."

  Daisy took pity on him and helped him stock his basket. By the time he had everything he needed to clean the ten rooms on his list, he could barely lift the thing. He watched in amazement as Daisy lifted hers, propped it on her shoulder and headed for the stairs.

  By the time he reached the third floor, his back was breaking and sweat rolled down his forehead. How does Maddie do this? The hallway was stifling, and the lack of air-conditioning promised to make for a long, uncomfortable day. He decided to start with what promised to be the worst room on his list—303. On the ring of keys he'd been given, he found the one he needed, took a deep breath and opened the door to hell.

  The smell smacked him in the face, making him gag. Someone had puked all over one of the two beds, bottles and cans littered the floor and the bathroom floor was flooded. "Holy DNA," he muttered as he put a hand over his mouth and nose and rushed in to throw open the windows. As his stomach fought back a retch, his foot skidded on something. He looked down at a discarded condom on the floor. "Oh my God."

  Mac turned to find Daisy standing at the door, looking sympathetic. "Maddie always gets these rooms."

  "Not anymore."

  Daisy glanced over her shoulder as if she was worried that Ethel might appear any second. "I'll help you."

  "You don't have to. You've got your own rooms to deal with."

  "None of mine come close to this. Maddie's my friend, and you're doing her a favor, so let me help you."

  Since Mac had no idea where to even begin, he sent her a grateful smile. "Thanks. I owe you one."

  Chapter 7

  By the time Mac opened the door to his tenth and final room, he could safely say he'd never worked harder in his life. Even with Daisy's help, room 303 had taken two hours and all of Mac's plumbing skills to restore it to pristine condition. Daisy told him that guests who left such messes were permanently banned. Unfortunately, there were plenty of others just like them looking for a place to bust loose for a summer weekend.

  When he saw nothing too gross or out of the ordinary in the last room, he breathed a sigh of relief. He'd already had enough contact with foreign DNA to last a lifetime. As he stripped the bed and quickly remade it, he decided something had to be done about the deplorable way Maddie was treated here. No wonder she'd called her employers bastards. They were!

  "Having fun, darling?"

  Speak of the devil. His mother leaned against the doorframe. "I'm having a blast."

  "This is entirely inappropriate, but of course you know that."

  "How's it inappropriate for me to help a friend?"

  "She's not your friend! You just met her yesterday, for heaven's sake."

  "Be careful, Mother. I'm not a child who needs you to define friendship for me."

  "I just don't understand this, Mac. Why in the world would you want to lower yourself to" —she waved her hand around— "this … just to prove a point to me."

  He stopped what he was doing to stare at her, incredulous. "It's got nothing to do with you! God, you're unbelievable! You think everything revolves around you."

  "I think no such thing."

  "What I want to know is why Maddie gets all the crappiest rooms. Did that direction come right from you? Or does Ethel do that on her own?" He glanced at her in time to catch her guilty expression. "That ends today. Do you hear me?"

  "You can't come in here and start barking out orders."

  "Do you want my help at the marina?"

  She had the good grace to at least squirm a little. "You know I do."

  "Then you'll make sure she's treated fairly here from now on, or I swear to God, I won't lift a hammer down the street." He had no intention of making good on that threat, because he planned to help his father no matter what. But he could let her think that he'd walk away if it meant improving Maddie's situation.

  "I can't imagine what's gotten into you to talk to me like this."

  "I've gotten an eyeful of the way you treat one of your employees today, and I don't care for it."

  "She's gotten her hooks into you, hasn't she?"

  He released a short bark of laughter as he ran the duster over the tables and dresser. "I wish."

  "What does that mean?"

  "She doesn't seem all that interested in me."

  Linda expelled what sounded like a sigh of relief. "Oh, well, that's good, I suppose."

  Mac whirled around to face her. "No, it isn't. I like her. I really like her."

  "Don't be ridiculous. You could have any woman you want. Just this morning, I talked to Doro Chase. She can't wait to meet you."

  "What're you talking about?"

  "I told her you're home, and she'd love to meet you. I said I'd set it up."

  "That ain't happening. I don't need my mother arranging dates for me."

  "You need something because that woman you're shacking up with in town is all wrong for you."

  "That woman I'm shacking up with is all right for me." Mac enjoyed watching his mother blanch. "In fact, she's more right for me than any woman I've ever met."

  "You can't be serious."

  Deciding he'd said enough for now, he grabbed the last of the towels from his basket and headed for the bathroom. "We'll see you at dinner." He poked his head out the door and made eye contact with her. "You be nice to her, or I swear you won't see me again for a long, long time."

  "Honestly. I don't know what's happened to you."

  "Believe me, you don't want to know." He'd fallen in love with a woman his mother had nothing but disdain for. Any doubt he'd had about the love part had disappeared during the long day at the hotel. He loved her. He wanted her. He couldn't wait to see her again. He was going to do anything and everything he could to be with her.

  And if his mother didn't like it? Too bad.

  Mac limped out of the hotel at three thirty. The long night without sleep, the long day without so much as a ten-minute break and the battle with his mother had left him weary and drained. He wanted to go straight back to Maddie's and sleep until dinner. But first he needed to see his father, so he started the bike and headed for the marina.

  The aroma of fried food and diesel fuel blended with sunscreen, dead fish and something being cooked on a grill. A group of boys raced crabs down the ramp into the water, and their shrieks filled the air. Overhead, a flock of seagulls watched the action onboard one of the big powerboats where the day's catch was being cleaned. Just another summer day at McCarthy's.

  Big Mac sat at one of the picnic tables outside the restaurant, surrounded by a crowd that hung on his every word as he retold the story of hooking a great white in Long Island Sound—for what had to be the ten thousandth time since it happened twenty years earlier.

  "Not that old fish story again," Mac interjected.

  His father's face lit up with delight. "Hey! Look who it is! Fellas, meet my oldest boy, Little Mac."

  "Just Mac is fine." He shook hands with the other men. "I dropped the little part years ago." To his father, he said, "Got time for a beer?"

  "Hmm, fellas, what do you say? Do I have time for a beer with my son?"

  "You do own the place," one of them said drolly.

  "That I do. Luke!"

  Luke appeared from behind the main building. "Y
eah?"

  "I'm cutting out. You're in charge."

  "Right."

  "What happened with the shark?" one of the guys asked as Big Mac got up.

  "He got away," Mac said.

  "Well, thank God for that."

  "No shit," Big Mac said with that winning smile of his. "I'll see you fellas around. Gotta spend some time with my boy." He put his arm around Mac and led him to the Tiki Bar at the end of the main dock.

  They pulled up stools at Big Mac's latest brainstorm. The outdoor bar had been added two summers ago, and from what Mac had heard, it was turning a nice profit.

  "Carol Ann, this here's my boy Mac. He drinks on the house while he's home. Two of my usual."

  "Yes, sir, Mr. McCarthy," the pretty young bartender replied.

  While she fetched the beers, Mac snorted behind his hand. "She calls you Mr. McCarthy?"

  "She respects her elders. What can I say?"

  Carol Ann put two frosty bottles down in front of them.

  "Thank you, sweetheart," Big Mac said without an ounce of guile. Only on Gansett Island could an employer get away with calling a female employee "sweetheart."

  "My pleasure," she said with a toothy smile, and Mac could see that it was. Everyone loved his father. You couldn't spend ten minutes in his orbit and not be sucked into his effortless way with people. He was the heart and soul of the place, and Mac couldn't imagine it without him.

  Carol Ann moved to the far end of the bar to give them some privacy.

  Big Mac tapped his bottle against Mac's and then took a long drink.

  "You're really gonna sell this place, Dad?"

  "I think it's time," Big Mac said, but Mac heard the sadness in his voice and saw it on his face. "Your mom wants to travel, get off the island some. You hear about people waiting too long to retire, then one of 'em gets sick…" Shrugging, he picked at the label on his bottle.

  "I can't imagine someone else owning it, running it."

  "Believe me, neither can I. But I'm not gonna live forever, you know."

  "Don't say that."

  Big Mac laughed. "Okay, I won't."