He’d been unaccountably thrilled to look up an hour ago and see Julia towing Ellis along in her wake, steaming towards the bar. He’d never expected Ellis would actually take him up on his invitation to drop by the club. She didn’t seem like the type to go club hopping, but maybe it had been all Julia’s idea. Not that he really cared. He was happy Ellis had come and even happier that Julia had bowed out.

Ty looked down at his watch and frowned. “It’s after nine, and I’m supposed to be off. Angie told me Patricia was coming in to work the rest of the shift. You seen her?”

“Nope,” Nella said. “But I need two frozen ’ritas and a Natty Lite for one of my tables five minutes ago.”

“Patricia better get her butt in here,” Ty said darkly, dumping ice and margarita mix into the blender jar. “I’m tired of covering for her. Do you have her cell number?”

“Patricia’s?” Nella hooted. “Get serious. Even if I had her number, she wouldn’t answer. She and Jason had a big fight last night, and he threw her out of the apartment. And you know that piece-of-crap car of hers quit running a week ago, so with Jason out of the picture she’s either gotta ride her bike or thumb a ride to get here.”

“Swell,” Ty muttered, looking around the bar. It was a typical summer Sunday night at Cadillac Jack’s. The place was jammed and people were still coming in. Patricia Altizer was a sweet kid, in her midtwenties, but she had terrible taste in men, and worse luck when it came to managing her own life. When she made it in on time for her shift, she was a hard worker, but Ty had already had to fill in for her the past couple of times she was supposed to work, and he had the sinking feeling that tonight would be another of those nights.

Sure enough, at 9:30, Angie, the club owner, slipped behind the bar, a look of chagrin on her face. “Patricia’s a no-show, as I’m sure you already figured,” she started. “Ty, honey, I hate to ask, but can you stay ’til closing?”

“You can’t get anybody else?” he asked. “I’ve kinda got something to do tonight. And you swore you weren’t going to keep asking me to close.”

Angie turned and looked in the direction of the table she’d seen Ty gazing at as she approached the bar. Ellis had finished her drink and was fiddling with her cell phone. Ty had been so busy, he hadn’t even had time to send over another drink—or an apology for keeping her waiting.

“Yeah, Nella told me you’ve got a new friend,” Angie said, a note of sarcasm in her voice.

“Nella needs to mind her own business,” Ty said.

“Look, Ty,” Angie went on. “I’m desperate, okay? Patricia’s definitely not coming in, and I’ve called all over, trying to round up somebody else to work, but you’re it. If you’ll stay ’til closing, I’ll owe you big time. You name it, you got it. Just don’t walk out of here and leave me without a bartender.”

Ty thought about it. Angie really was in a jam. If he left now, with only Nella and one other girl waiting tables, there’d likely be a riot. Anyway, he was in a jam of his own, wasn’t he? It was mid-August, and September was closing in. He needed to make some money, and he needed to make it fast. He looked over at Ellis, who returned his gaze. She smiled, raised her eyebrows, and gave a little wave.

He sighed. “You’re gonna have to spell me for half an hour. Then I’ll be back, and I’ll stay and close. But this is the last time. And it’s gonna cost you.”

“Anything,” she said fervently. “Name it.”

“You’re paying me twenty bucks an hour tonight,” Ty said. “Plus tip out. And no skimming. Nella and I can tell what tips oughta be tonight, and if you try and short us, it’ll be the last time I set foot in this place. Understand?”

“That’s extortion.”

“Yep,” Ty said. “And you could always refuse to pay, and I could take a walk.”

*   *   *

“Hey,” Ty said, sliding into the booth across from Ellis.

“Hey yourself,” Ellis said. “Pretty busy tonight, huh?”

“Yeah, and I’ve got bad news,” Ty said. “The chick who was supposed to be coming in at nine isn’t coming. Which means I’ve got to stay and close up—and I won’t get out of here ’til at least 1 A.M.”

“Oh,” Ellis said, trying to hide her disappointment. “That’s too bad.”

“It’s a pain in the ass,” Ty said. “But they can’t get anybody else this late, so it’s all me. Look, I’ve got, like, a fifteen-minute break. I’ll run you home, and if you’ll give me a rain check, maybe we could hang out another night.”

“Sure,” Ellis said, trying to sound noncommittal. “But don’t worry about me. I can get a cab or something.…”

“No way.” He held out his hand. “C’mon. The quicker we get out of here, the more time I can spend with you.”

“All fifteen minutes,” Ellis said.

Ten minutes later they pulled into the driveway at Ebbtide. The porch light was on, and Madison’s room on the top floor of the house was lit up, but the rest of the house was dark.

Ty left the Bronco’s motor running. “This really sucks,” he said fervently.

“It’s all right,” Ellis said. “It’s not like we had a date or anything.”

“We didn’t really have a date, but that’s not all right with me,” Ty said. “What about another night this week? Most of the best restaurants are closed Mondays. Maybe Tuesday night?”

“Uh,” Ellis said. Her brain was frozen. He was asking her out. For a real date. Suddenly, she was fifteen again, tongue-tied and paralyzed with shyness.

“Wednesday night, then?” Ty asked.

“No, I mean, yes, Tuesday night would be fine,” Ellis finally managed.

“Great,” Ty said, relieved.

Grateful that the awkward moment had ended, Ellis fumbled around, looking for the door handle. But before she could find it, Ty leapt out of the car, jogged around, and opened it for her.

He took her hand and helped her out of the car, pulling her to him in one fluid movement, just as naturally as if he had done it a million other star-filled summer nights. And to her amazement, her arms went around his neck, just as though she’d been doing this all her life too. He found a tendril of dark hair trailing on her shoulder blade, and tucked it behind her ear, kissing first her shoulder blade and then her ear. Finally, his lips found hers. He teased her lips open with his tongue. And then the front pocket of his jeans began to vibrate, and then ring.

“Damn it,” he said, reluctantly letting her go. “That’s Angie, screaming that I gotta get back. Which I do.”

He kissed the tip of Ellis’s nose. “To be continued, right?”

“Right,” Ellis agreed. “Absolutely.”

She made a concerted effort to march briskly up the steps to Ebbtide, turning at the door to watch Ty’s car backing down the driveway. She hummed lightly as she swept through the ground floor of the house, checking the locks, corking a bottle of wine somebody had left on the kitchen counter, turning off the lights.

Ellis was halfway up the stairs when she recognized the tune she’d been humming. “Dancing in the Dark.” In her bedroom, she hung up the pink sundress, slipped into her cupcake pjs, and climbed under the covers. She stretched and yawned contentedly, and clicked off the lamp on her bedside table. A summer fling! Ellis Sullivan was having herself a summer fling. As Julia had said, “It’s about damned time.”

23

Tuesday morning, Dorie rolled down the elastic waistband of her pajama bottoms so that they barely rested on her pubic bone. She lay flat on the worn chenille bedspread, lifted her chin, and stared down at the soft, pale roundness of her belly. Sometime in the past ten days, when she’d been preoccupied with the future, the present caught up with her.

She closed her eyes and rested the palms of her hands lightly on the bump. Her belly. Her baby. This was really happening. She’d dog-eared her second-hand copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. And at fourteen weeks, she—and the baby—were right on track. Her boobs had grown at least a cup size, spilling out of all her bras and the last bathing suit that still fit. The nausea was gone, she was starting to regain her energy, and just the night before, she was sure—positive, really—that the flutter she’d felt was the baby stirring. Now, if only the rest of her life would get on track.