“Get ahold of yourself,” she whispered, sucking in sea air to calm down and forget about Harv and Grove. After all, this was her chance to grow up and experience Maggie’s world, and by golly, she intended to do it despite Aunt Eleanor’s objections. Unbidden, thoughts of her handsome rescuer invaded her mind and she shuddered, mortified at the prospect of being seen with an officer in tow. Heaven knows she’d be the youngest among Peggy’s sister’s group anyway. The last thing she needed was more scorn about her age or small-town upbringing.
With a catch of her breath, Annie slowed, jaw sagging while her eyes slowly scanned upward, thoughts of the attack all but forgotten. Mouth agape, she stood mesmerized by the towering sight before her, hand fluttering to her chest. Oh my, but it was grand! Everything Maggie had written and more.
Jutting high in the sky at the end of a pier, the famous Ocean Pier Dance Pavilion rose from the water like a glittering fairy-tale castle, terraces and towers aglow with endless strings of lights. Maggie told her the Pier had been built in 1911 and extended 1,450 feet over the water, beckoning patrons to a palatial structure housing dance marathons, a sumptuous café, and a roller-skating rink. Light glimmered across the bay, reflecting the revelry inside, and Annie’s heart squeezed at the memory of a big sister she idolized and seldom saw, now living in California. Maggie had always been dazzled by lights, first the big-city glimmer of Chicago where she was born and raised until college, now the glitz and glitter of Hollywood where she soon hoped to be a star. At Radcliffe, she seldom came home for summers after they moved to Iowa because she’d despised Badger, and her letters had always been filled with the shimmer and shine of Ocean Pier.
Annie craned her neck to stare at the arched pillars overhead with a reverent sigh, more determined than ever to follow in Maggie’s footsteps. Squaring her shoulders, she opened the door with a grunt, grateful the officer hadn’t followed her to the Pier. Heavens, if she was going to succeed tonight with new friends, it certainly wouldn’t be in the custody of some stiff-faced arm of the law. His memory suddenly prompted an odd quiver in her stomach, and Annie swallowed hard, hoping she’d never have to see him again. No matter how handsome he was.
Steven shook his head, watching her bolt away as if he were the one who’d attempted to accost her. Little girls. They were as bad as the big ones. She was darn lucky he’d happened along and been armed, something he usually avoided while off duty. But he’d had an uneasy feeling tonight about the beach, which tended to attract trouble on weekends, and any girl with half a brain had sense not to walk it alone. Which pretty much confirmed the kid was either brainless or had her head in the clouds.
Heaving a sigh, he made his way to the phone booth at the end of the boardwalk to report the thugs who’d bothered the young woman. His mouth crooked. Make that “little girl.” One with a smart mouth who belonged home in bed on a Friday night, not at a dance hall. He placed the call and hung up, hand fused to the receiver as he squinted at the Ocean Pier Ballroom, a blur of lights at the end of a pier he’d walked more times than he could count. His eyes trailed into a faraway stare while memories teased and taunted, endless strings of lights swaying and sparkling, like Maggie when he’d whirled her on the dance-room floor. Warm, steamy nights spent holding her, kissing her on the veranda, making plans for a future that would never come to pass. A dull ache surfaced in his chest. Chilling proof that despite the fact he’d been the one who’d ended it, Maggie Kennedy still had a hold on his heart.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and ambled toward the Pier, his mind a million miles away, not unlike the woman he’d loved. Still loved, if truth be told, despite being a full coast away. Almost three years had passed since he’d ended it the night he told her he loved her but couldn’t see her again. It wasn’t fair, he knew, but he’d blamed her for the rift with his father, a rift so violent, it had almost stolen his father away. Steven’s eyes shuttered closed, the memory twisting his gut. Because of Maggie, he and his father had shouted awful things at each other, hateful words that not only threatened his father’s life but buried Steven’s beneath a mountain of guilt. Guilt so strong, it enabled him to finally turn Maggie away and embark on a quest to restore his father’s trust. His lips thinned. As well as my own.
A familiar melancholy settled on his shoulders like the mist over the bay, and he opened his eyes, suddenly missing Maggie so much the air stilled in his lungs. The music of her laughter, the dare of her smile, the glimmer of tease in eyes so blue, they’d laid claim to his soul. And his body. Heat flushed his skin and he removed his coat, slinging it over his arm with a clamp of his jaw. Confirmation once again it had never been Maggie’s fault at all, but his. He was the one who should’ve been strong, the man in control who should’ve placed his love for Maggie before his desires. But in the end, he’d disrespected her as much as he had his father, and the weight of shame had driven him hard away from Maggie, his past, and the idea of ever falling in love.
Peals of laughter broke into his thoughts, and the sight of two couples flying down the wood-slatted dock brought a grin to his face. He and his friends from college used to have fun like that once. His smile was wistful. And if Joe had his way, they would again. The haunting sounds of a love song drifted over the water like a fog, hazing his mind and tugging at his heart, yet another indication Joe was right. It was time to get back in the game, to move on and maybe fall in love. To raise Steven O’Connor from the dead, as Joe liked to say. Ocean Pier loomed before him in all its glory while strains of “Stardust” floated in the air, luring him with its magic as if sent by Joe himself.
Truth be told, I could use a little magic right about now, Steven thought with a grimace. He yanked on the massive door beneath the lit portico, holding it open as several pretty girls walked through. The scent of perfume tempted his senses while the music taunted his soul, convincing him once and for all his resurrection was imminent. With a deep inhale, he made his way through the crowd, surprised he was actually glad to be there. After all, he thought, hating to admit Joe was right . . . he wasn’t dead yet.
“Where on earth have you been?”
Peggy latched on to Annie’s arm the second she stepped into the grand foyer, and for a moment, Annie was too stunned to respond. Her mouth hung open so far, she could have trapped mosquitoes out on the Pier. The magnitude of the foyer alone stole both her words and the breath from her lungs. A vaulted ceiling seemed to rise to the sky, flanked by palatial balconies teeming with people. Ornate gold chandeliers spilled from above, lending an ethereal air to the grand and spacious room. Annie sighed, hand to her chest, quite certain there was nothing like this in Badger, or in all of Iowa for that matter, and in one reverent intake of breath, she silently blessed Aunt Eleanor for bringing them to Boston.
“Annie!” Enormous brown eyes assessed her with concern. “Are you okay?”
Annie blinked to dispel the sudden tears in her eyes. “Oh, Peg, two men tried to accost me.”
“What? Where?” Peggy’s eyes spanned wide, her short, auburn waves lending an almost pixie air to her heart-shaped face. She gave Annie a tight hug. “Good grief, are you okay?”
Annie nodded with a tight swallow. “It happened on that shortcut you showed me.”
Peggy’s jaw dropped. “For criminy sakes, Annie, I told you to take the main streets at night, not the shortcut. You could have been killed. Tell me what happened.”
Annie related the awful incident, her brush with near disaster chilling her all over again. “I was looking forward to tonight, Peg, but so far, this is the worst night of my life.”
Peg tucked a curl over Annie’s ear. “We’ll just have to make sure it ends up as the best night of your life, okay?” Her brow puckered. “Hey, you didn’t wear the makeup I gave you!”
Annie blinked. “I meant to put it on before I left, but Aunt Eleanor was in such a nasty mood . . .”
Shaking her head, Peggy rifled through her purse to retrieve her lipstick. “I swear that backwoods town o
f yours has addled your brain.” She glanced down at Annie’s sensible Mary Jane flats and groaned. “And you wore flats?! What am I going to do with you? It’s bad enough your aunt won’t let you bob your hair, but you barely come to my chin as petite as you are, and those freckles and fresh-scrubbed face are a dead giveaway you’re straight off the farm. Here.” Peggy bent to apply lipstick to Annie’s mouth. “Honestly, Annie, how do you plan to catch anyone’s eye when you look all of twelve?”
“I’m sorry, Peg, but I was so nervous . . .”
Peggy stood up to assess. “Well, there’s not much we can do about your eyes, I suppose, since I left my eye makeup at home, but at least they’re that incredible shade of green. But I did bring my powder, thank goodness. Here.” She handed Annie her compact and froze. “Wait, please tell me you wore the teal dress I suggested. You know, the one you said was too tight?”
Annie quickly unbuttoned her thick, lumpy sweater and gave her friend a tentative smile before dropping a nervous glance down at her high-necked jersey dress. She tugged at her lip, uneasy with the snug fit of the stretchy material. “I did, but not only is it too small, it makes me feel like a little kid ’cause I wore it at fifteen.” She glanced up, ready to rebutton the cardigan. “I don’t know, Peg, I just don’t feel comfortable in it.”
“That’s because it’s too tight, you goose. Here, let me fix it.” Mischief twitched on her lips as she undid Annie’s top three buttons to create a flapped-collar effect that certainly confirmed Annie was no little girl. Peggy let loose with a low whistle. “Atta girl! You may look fresh as cream with that dewy skin and baby-soft hair, but once you take that hideous cardigan off, you won’t be the only one uncomfortable, trust me.” She exchanged Annie’s sweater for the compact. “Here, sweetie-pie, powder your pretty nose and let’s go. We’ve got hearts to break.”
Ignoring the swirl of nerves in her stomach, Annie sucked in a deep breath and eyed herself in the mirror. “Okay, Peg, wish me luck. Tonight is the night I grow up.”
Peggy chuckled and clamped a hand to Annie’s arm, pulling her toward the ballroom door. “Trust me, kiddo, you won’t need any luck with that dress.”
Annie was grateful Peggy dragged her to the other side of the massive ballroom, hopefully far from the prying eyes of any stick-in-the-mud officer. It was a hive of activity that left her breathless, and even Maggie’s letters hadn’t prepared her for this. Pure magic, a fairy-tale ball where hundreds of couples moved and swayed in hypnotic motion across a gleaming wood floor. Lights were low, lending an intimate air, while a mirror ball glittered overhead like diamonds in the sky. Strains of the Dorsey Brothers Orchestra’s “Little White Lies” filtered throughout, and Annie nibbled on her nail, uneasy about her white lie to Aunt Eleanor about going to bed early. She sucked in a deep breath. Well, I did, didn’t I? Lay in the bed until dark? Guilt jabbed, but she shook it off. After all, she had a right to live her own life, didn’t she?
The band eased into their version of Benny Goodman’s “Help Yourself to Happiness,” and a shaky smile tipped Annie’s mouth when she realized that was exactly what she was trying to do. She’d had enough heartbreak to last a lifetime, and it was time to help herself to some of the happiness Maggie had written home about. Steeling her resolve, she tagged behind Peggy as they inched along the dance floor. Mouth agape, she stared wide-eyed at couples whirling and swinging to the Lindy Hop as sweat and smiles gleamed on their faces. Warmth from sweaty bodies fairly shimmered off the floor like heat off asphalt during a Badger drought in July.
Peggy leaned to whisper in the ear of an older girl who was laughing and drinking with friends at a table littered with peanuts, popcorn, and bottles of Coca-Cola. Annie’s pulse skittered when the girl rose and extended a hand. “Hi, Annie, I’m Peggy’s sister, Joanie. Peggy says you’re new to Boston and looking for fun.” She tucked an arm to Annie’s waist and smiled. “Well, you came to the right place, sweetie, because any friend of Peggy’s is a friend of mine.”
Annie smiled and gulped, hardly able to believe she was here with Maggie’s old gang.
Thumping her glass on the table, Joanie turned to the group, who looked to be in their midtwenties. “Hey, guys, listen up. This is Annie, and she just moved here, so let’s make her feel welcome.” Joanie waved an arm. “This is most of the gang—Erica and Ashley, Joe and Stan.”
“Coca-Cola, Annie?” Joanie asked, pouring pop into one of two clean glasses.
“Just for me, sis. Annie’s a Dr Pepper Girl.” Peggy squeezed Annie’s shoulder with a grin, lowering her voice as if it were a dirty secret. “Her aunt doesn’t allow soda in the house, so the kid sneaks it when she can.” Peggy sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s her only vice.”
“We’ll have to see what we can do about that,” Erica said with a grin. She pushed a black curl away from her Betty Boop hairstyle and winked an eye lidded with violet shadow. “What are you doing hanging out with Peggy? She’ll just get you in trouble.”
Peggy laughed and sat down along with Annie, sliding Erica a smirk. “Speak for yourself, Erica, everybody knows who the bad influence is here.”
Joe stood to his feet and reached across the table to shake her hand, his smile warm in a handsome face that boasted a healthy spray of freckles. His hazel eyes seemed to twinkle, a nice complement to the sandy hair neatly slicked back. “Hiya, Annie, where you from?”
Annie liked him immediately, which helped put her at ease despite her hesitation to divulge her rustic roots. She gave him a shy smile. “Badger, Iowa.”
Joe let loose a low whistle. “Small town, eh?”
Annie nodded, a grin sprouting on her face. “You can spit from one end to the other.”
“Well, welcome to the big city. And just so you know, I’m the ‘good’ influence here.”
“You mean till Steven comes,” Erica said with a ruby-red pout. “Where is he, anyway? I thought you said he was coming.”
Joe eyed Erica with an off-center smile. “Don’t get your knickers in a knot, Miss Hogan, you’ll get your chance with him. Our poster boy’ll be here, as promised.”
Erica leaned on the table with a grin, a hint of cleavage peeking out the ruffle of her floral dress. “You better be right, Walsh, ’cause I spent a fortune on this dress, even at a thrift shop.”
“Trust me, I’m just as anxious as you for Steven to get here. I work with the guy day in, day out, remember? Nobody knows better than me that all work and no play makes O’Connor a dull boy. He’s been nothing but nose to the grindstone since he broke up with Maggie, and I for one am tired of it.” He raised his glass to Erica. “So that’s where you come in.”
O’Connor? Maggie’s old flame? Annie began to choke, finally sneezing to clear her air.
“Bless you.” Joe winked.
“Where I come in, huh?” Erica grinned. “Back in Steven’s arms again, I hope.” Her smile went flat. “Where I’d still be today if not for Kennedy.”
“Maggie’s history,” Joanie said, “don’t let her spoil your evening.”
“Bad history,” Erica said with a grunt. “Wish I could tip your flask to forget.”
“Ooops—how rude!” Joanie lifted her skirt to reveal a flask in her garter belt. “Forgot to offer a touch of giggle water to Annie and Peg. How ’bout it, girls?”
The whites of Annie’s eyes expanded. “Uh . . . no, thank you,” she squeaked.
“Sure, why not?” Peggy said without hesitation.
“You’re drinking alcohol?” Annie’s whisper rose several octaves, her eyes glazed with shock as if she’d tipped the flask herself.
“Not much, you goose, just enough to feel tipsy,” Peggy said while Joanie spiked her drink. “Sure you don’t want some? You could use it after the scare you had, you know.”
Annie shook her head, suddenly feeling way in over her head.
Joanie offered Erica a sympathetic smile. “If you ask me, Maggie was never good enough for Steven. Too independent and definitely too wild. Steven O’Co
nnor’s the old-fashioned type who needs a good girl.”
Too wild? A frown pinched Annie’s brow.
“Then how’d she land him in the first place is what I wanna know?” Erica said in a pout.
Joanie chuckled. “She was a pastor’s kid, remember? Flirty, yes, but white as the driven snow when Steven met her.” She winked. “Come on, Erica, nobody knows better than you how hard it is to say no to a guy like Steven.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Issuing a heavy sigh, Erica slumped, chin in hand. “Even so, I never liked her from the get-go. Too blonde, too loud, too much of a flirt to suit me.”
Joanie chuckled. “You just hated her ’cause she had Steven wrapped around her little finger.”
“That’s not all she had him wrapped around,” Erica said with a grunt.
“You got that right,” Joanie said. “Rumor is she gave him her all.”
Her all? Annie blinked, refusing to think about what that meant, but feeling the heat of her blush clear up to her bangs.
“Hey, guys, knock it off. You’re embarrassing Annie.” Joe popped peanuts in his mouth, his tone matching the scowl on his face. “Those rumors are way off, and Maggie’s one of my best friends, so leave her be. Besides, she may have had her influence, but it was Steven who called the shots. And don’t forget, he broke it off with her.” Joe eyed Erica, brows knit. “I hope you’re not drinking, ’cause he’ll taste it in your kiss and you won’t stand a chance.”
“Are you kidding?” Erica splayed a hand to her chest. “After he read me the riot act last time? Not on your life. I know what a straight arrow he is.”
“Good.” Joe tossed another peanut as his gaze landed on Annie. All at once, he jumped up, his smile apologetic. “Gosh, where are my manners? One Dr Pepper coming right up.”