DRIFTWOOD COTTAGE

Summer means passion and sometimes that can lead to danger and intrigue. Please comment nicely!

Virginia Carter was worried. Driftwood Cottage was her home, but her tiny pension was barely enough to pay the rent. The retired art teacher sighed as she looked out at the blue-gray ocean waves. Last night's storm had been quite violent, and she wondered . . .

Just then someone knocked on the door of her little seaside cottage.

"Derek, darling, how good to see you again!" Derek Hamilton was Virginia's landlord, but he was also a good friend. The short, silver-haired woman went up on tiptoes to kiss his bronzed cheek.

"Good old Virginia! You're looking lovely, as always." Derek was tall and rugged and handsome. He'd been a star football player in high school and was now a very successful businessman. Yet his dark, coffee-brown eyes gave him a sad and melancholy look.

"Is there any word from Logan?" Virginia was quick to offer her guest a cup of tea, knowing that Derek had been through a lot since his breakup with Logan. The powerful businessman was hurting. And he held the key to her future at Driftwood Cottage.

"The process in the courts may take months," Derek sighed. "I mean, I can survive, but the money he took was vital to cushion others. You know I love you, Virginia. This cottage is your home. But right now I just don't know if our arrangement can continue."

"Hell, you've been good to me for years." Virginia's rough, gritty voice couldn't hide the tears in her gray eyes. "I'll find a way to pay you back for all you've done, Derek. Don't worry about that."

"I'm the one who should be paying you back," Derek said sincerely. "When I was in high school, all anybody else could see was the star quarterback who always scored the winning touchdown. You saw who I really was, and what I really wanted."

Derek left after a quick cup of tea, almost as though he was ashamed of what he had come to say. Virginia cleaned up her tiny kitchen alone, thinking over what her rugged landlord had said. She truly loved Derek. Yet she had no money to spare, and she had to keep on his good side to keep her cottage. Perhaps there was another way she could help her old friend. Money was important, but maybe it wasn't money that Derek needed most.

Down the beach there was a place called Dugan's. It was a fun, casual seafood place that was very popular with the rich tourists. But on this particular afternoon the bar was almost empty.

"Sorry, Virginia, we can't really use any seascape paintings. We've got plenty of authentic ocean stuff on the walls already. Just look at all those fishing nets and that big old swordfish!"

"Thanks, Steve. Maybe in a few weeks business will improve, and you can hire me as a dishwasher!" Virginia laughed with the bartender, joking around like always just to keep up a tough front. But a young man sitting nearby didn't think it was very funny.

"They're not hiring any dishwashers," the boy said, in a soft voice. He kept his head down so that his golden hair covered his face. "They're not hiring anybody!"

"Hello," Virginia said, in her rough and scratchy and friendly voice. "You're a new face around here. Mind if I buy you a drink?"

"I'd rather have something to eat." The slim, sexy boy in the tank top and shorts didn't look up. He just kept studying the menu, which was full of all sorts of expensive seafood dishes that were obviously way out of his price range.

"What's the matter with your face?" Virginia frowned. "Don't worry, I won't bite." The boy squirmed, but she leaned closer and pushed back his hair as if it was the curtain covering a masterpiece.

"It's nothing. Come on, already. Take your hands off!" The boy's long-lashed blue eyes were beautiful, but one of them was badly discolored and nearly swollen shut. He had a nasty black eye. That was what he had been hiding beneath his hair, which was a lustrous shade of pure gold and very soft to touch.

"Blake doesn't like it when rich tourists get fresh," Steve the bartender explained. "Too bad he can't fight worth a damn. Word of advice, hot shot: Spring Break is over. Move on, or get a job."

"Who can find a job these days?" Virginia threw down a little money to pay for the drink she'd been sipping. She ignored the boy named Blake, who was pouting, sulky and obviously nothing but trouble. "My cottage has an extra bedroom, and the way things are going it looks like I'm going to have to rent it out to make ends meet. First I have to hire someone to help me clean the place out. Let me know if anyone is interested, Steve."

"You got it, Virginia. Good luck selling your paintings. Everyone always said you were the most talented teacher at school!"

"What, me talented? Like hell." Virginia Carter left Steve Dugan's place and headed back down the beach, swinging her big straw beach bag and carrying herself in a very jaunty, cheerful manner.

It wasn't very long before Blake called her name.