Beautiful Storm (Lightning Strikes Book 1) by Barbara Freethy
Authors: Barbara Freethy
Tags: Romance
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were so crowded with tourists that Michael had to park a couple of blocks away.
"Everyone is out today," she commented as they walked down the crowded street. "Yesterday it was a ghost town with the storm coming. But the tourists came back with the sun."
"It's Florida. What do you expect?"
"True." They paused at an intersection. "What did your father want to speak to you about?"
"He thinks I should come by the house more often and get to know my sisters better."
"Violet seems to like you a great deal."
"She's a good kid. Her sisters are, too. But while we may share a bloodline, we're not family. I left the house when Violet was three years old. And my youngest sister wasn't even born yet. They don't remember me being around."
"They might remember more than you think. Why not get to know them? They didn't treat you badly. They're not responsible for their parents' actions."
"I don't hold them responsible." He gave her a hard look. "Don’t try to fix me and my family. We have a history together that you can't begin to understand."
She thought she understood more than he knew, but she decided not to argue. It was his family, his business, and she should stay out of it.
They crossed the street and walked down the next block in silence. When they reached her building, her landlord Eileen Peterman was just coming out of the gallery.
At fifty-nine, Eileen was a beautiful platinum blonde with a bohemian style of dress, who had never married and loved to travel.
Eileen liked having Alicia upstairs so she could keep an eye on the building while Eileen was off on her many adventures, an arrangement that suited them both well. In fact, in Eileen Peterman, Alicia had not only found an enthusiastic buyer for her photographs, she'd found a mother figure and a kindred spirit, someone who understood her far better than her own mother ever had.
"Alicia," Eileen said with a smile. "I can't wait to see what photographs you took last night. Tell me you did not miss that amazing storm. I just got back from visiting my sister in Charleston, but we saw the news reports. The lightning looked amazing."
"I got some good shots. I'll bring them down tomorrow or Monday."
"I can't wait." Eileen gave Michael a curious smile. "And who's your friend?"
"This is Michael Cordero—my landlord Eileen Peterman. She owns the building and the gallery and is kind enough to sell my photographs."
"They fly off the walls." Eileen's speculative gaze took in every inch of Michael. "It's so nice to meet you, Michael. Are you also a photographer?"
"No, I'm a builder."
"His company is putting up the new city center," Alicia interjected.
"I saw the plans for that. I like the style of the development, the integration of local culture and artists," Eileen said approvingly.
"We try to build in a way that works with the existing landscape but also improves upon it," Michael replied.
"Well, if your designers need any art, I have some wonderful pieces."
Alicia inwardly groaned at Eileen's blatant sales plea but she could hardly complain. If Eileen weren't so good at taking every opportunity she could, Alicia's photographs would not have made her nearly as much money as they had.
"I'll definitely pass on your name," Michael said. "It's not my area, but I'll make sure the designers take a look at what you have to offer."
"Excellent." She looked back at Alicia. "By the way, a reporter stopped by a half hour ago, looking for you. She said you were involved in some missing person case and she would like to speak to you. I have her card inside. Shall I get it for you?"
"No. I don't need to talk to any reporters. Where was she from?"
"ABC News."
"I wonder how she got my address." She was a little dismayed by her lack of privacy, not that she'd ever worried that much about protecting her address. It wasn't as if she had a lot to steal. But now that she might have witnessed something dangerous, she was more concerned.
"She didn't say." A frown moved through
"Everyone is out today," she commented as they walked down the crowded street. "Yesterday it was a ghost town with the storm coming. But the tourists came back with the sun."
"It's Florida. What do you expect?"
"True." They paused at an intersection. "What did your father want to speak to you about?"
"He thinks I should come by the house more often and get to know my sisters better."
"Violet seems to like you a great deal."
"She's a good kid. Her sisters are, too. But while we may share a bloodline, we're not family. I left the house when Violet was three years old. And my youngest sister wasn't even born yet. They don't remember me being around."
"They might remember more than you think. Why not get to know them? They didn't treat you badly. They're not responsible for their parents' actions."
"I don't hold them responsible." He gave her a hard look. "Don’t try to fix me and my family. We have a history together that you can't begin to understand."
She thought she understood more than he knew, but she decided not to argue. It was his family, his business, and she should stay out of it.
They crossed the street and walked down the next block in silence. When they reached her building, her landlord Eileen Peterman was just coming out of the gallery.
At fifty-nine, Eileen was a beautiful platinum blonde with a bohemian style of dress, who had never married and loved to travel.
Eileen liked having Alicia upstairs so she could keep an eye on the building while Eileen was off on her many adventures, an arrangement that suited them both well. In fact, in Eileen Peterman, Alicia had not only found an enthusiastic buyer for her photographs, she'd found a mother figure and a kindred spirit, someone who understood her far better than her own mother ever had.
"Alicia," Eileen said with a smile. "I can't wait to see what photographs you took last night. Tell me you did not miss that amazing storm. I just got back from visiting my sister in Charleston, but we saw the news reports. The lightning looked amazing."
"I got some good shots. I'll bring them down tomorrow or Monday."
"I can't wait." Eileen gave Michael a curious smile. "And who's your friend?"
"This is Michael Cordero—my landlord Eileen Peterman. She owns the building and the gallery and is kind enough to sell my photographs."
"They fly off the walls." Eileen's speculative gaze took in every inch of Michael. "It's so nice to meet you, Michael. Are you also a photographer?"
"No, I'm a builder."
"His company is putting up the new city center," Alicia interjected.
"I saw the plans for that. I like the style of the development, the integration of local culture and artists," Eileen said approvingly.
"We try to build in a way that works with the existing landscape but also improves upon it," Michael replied.
"Well, if your designers need any art, I have some wonderful pieces."
Alicia inwardly groaned at Eileen's blatant sales plea but she could hardly complain. If Eileen weren't so good at taking every opportunity she could, Alicia's photographs would not have made her nearly as much money as they had.
"I'll definitely pass on your name," Michael said. "It's not my area, but I'll make sure the designers take a look at what you have to offer."
"Excellent." She looked back at Alicia. "By the way, a reporter stopped by a half hour ago, looking for you. She said you were involved in some missing person case and she would like to speak to you. I have her card inside. Shall I get it for you?"
"No. I don't need to talk to any reporters. Where was she from?"
"ABC News."
"I wonder how she got my address." She was a little dismayed by her lack of privacy, not that she'd ever worried that much about protecting her address. It wasn't as if she had a lot to steal. But now that she might have witnessed something dangerous, she was more concerned.
"She didn't say." A frown moved through
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