Terri began to pace. “Stacy is perfect. Always has been. She’s a flawless human being. I went to school with her from the first grade to the twelfth and I doubt if we ever exchanged even a dozen words. But why should we? Hers is the ruling family of Summer Hill, while mine is—” Terri glanced at her father. There were some places they didn’t go no matter how angry they got. “Stacy Hartman is so wonderful even the principal consulted her.”
“That’s because he was friends with her father and—” Brody looked at his daughter’s face. “Okay, so what’s wrong with her?”
“If she likes this guy, then everything is wrong with him. Since he has to live up to her standards, that means he’s rich. Ivy League school all the way. From the size of him, my guess is that he played that game... It’s like American football but our teams have enough sense to wear padding.”
“Rugby.” Brody had dropped his arms and was looking at his daughter with interest. She was deeply and sincerely riled up about something. “I don’t mean to be profoundly stupid here, but what exactly is your complaint about this guy?”
Terri stopped pacing. “I don’t know. It’s just everything, I guess. They’re all alike. He’s a money person. Probably moves Daddy’s millions around. I wonder if he’s ever been on a boat that didn’t have a crew and a captain. I bet he’d squeal if he had to use live bait on a hook.”
Brody was watching his daughter. Usually, the incompetence of the people around them made her laugh. At the end of a trying day, they’d sit in the big chairs at Aggie’s house, beers in hand, look out over the water and laugh about it all.
But right now, there was something genuinely bothering her. He picked up the photo on his desk. Good-looking man, muscles straining against his clothes. Looked like he did flyes with boat motors. And Brody knew he was the only kind of man his daughter ever looked at twice.
Terri was saying how this guy probably only ate off china and silver—which may or may not be inside of Aunt Aggie’s cabinets. Terri said she wasn’t an overly domestic kind of female, so how did she know what was in there?
When Brody looked back at his daughter more carefully, he saw that she was wearing lipstick. Not like Elaine wore it so that a man couldn’t keep his eyes off her lips, but there was some.
She likes him, Brody thought. Whatever happened this morning, his daughter liked this man. Then she’d found out he was engaged to cute, vivacious, everybody-loves-her Stacy Hartman. The mayor’s daughter might be considered the Summer Hill Princess in the town, but at the lake—and in Brody’s heart—Terri was the one who mattered.
On the desk were three listings for available cabins. Since Widiwick was just weeks away, he knew he’d rent all of them, but right now they were empty.
Terri was saying that Nate Taggert would probably spend the whole three weeks drinking beer with his frat brothers who would fly in from Connecticut. When she turned away, Brody slipped the papers into his desk drawer.
She whirled around to face her father. “Put him in the Camlock place. He and his frat brothers can get drunk and trash it and there won’t be much loss. But even if there is, I’m sure his daddy will pay for it all.”
“It’s been rented.” Brody was hoping his eyes didn’t show his lie. “Every cabin is taken.”
“You’re kidding.”
“There was a flurry of activity while you were gone and I rented everything.” He knew he was talking too fast. “Maybe this man can get his dad to buy him a place. I’ve got several that—”
“No! He’s not staying here. The lake is just a diversion for him so he can see how the other half lives. I’m sure Stacy is grooming him to become mayor. If they have a cabin it will be in Italy. Or the South of France. Certainly not here.” Terri sat down on a chair. “I’ll just have to tell him that he can’t stay at the lake.”
“Or charge him rent.”
“He said he’d pay double what I usually charge. As if I live in a boardinghouse!”
“Double, huh? How’s your new car fund going? Is your roof still leaking? Did you fix those broken tiles in the front?”
Terri glared at her father.
Brody threw up his hands. “I understand. You can’t—” His eyes widened. “Wait a minute! This guy didn’t come on to you, did he? Did he make a pass at you?”
“Of course not. He cooked breakfast for me. We sat at the dining table and talked. He...” She trailed off.
“You don’t think you could put up with him for just three weeks? The money would be useful. You know that I’d lend you some, but you said—”
“No! I mean, no to your giving me money. I earn my own way.”
“You’re only there at night.” He was looking at her expectantly.
“Maybe,” she said as she stood up. “You talk to him. I have a lot of work to do. You get Moon cleaned up?”
“Yeah, but it was, uh, littered again.”
Terri grimaced. “We got them to clean up after their dogs, so why can’t they clear up after themselves?”
Brody smiled. “Why don’t you invent a different kind of pooper-scooper? One for what people leave behind on the beaches. You could go on that TV show and get somebody to invest in it. You’d make millions.”