For Joy's Sake

And he’d condemned her to live in the shambles he’d left behind.

Smyth had taught her something about charmers, though. They smiled even when they were destroying you. She’d never forget his smile as he held her arms above her head...

She turned down Hunter’s offers to buy her a cup of shaved Hawaiian ice, a funnel cake and, finally, a chocolate-covered frozen banana. She kept her distance as they made their way to the stage and sat a chair down from him when they settled in to watch the show.

She gave him her approval of the six nine-year-old girls who sounded like Gladys Knight and the Pips, halfway through their show. After that, she excused herself, knowing he had to wait until the end of the act to speak with the girls’ manager, or parents, or whoever could arrange to have them in the lineup the night of the gala.

She’d tell him when he called her later that she thought the girls should be their opening act. And to thank him for finding them.

What she wasn’t going to tell him was that she’d liked the festival and wished she could have dared enjoy herself with him.

But she wouldn’t.

Because she knew why she was attracted to him. He was exactly her type—in the most dangerous way. And that meant he couldn’t be her type. He was upbeat. Energetic. Always with an idea up his sleeve. Adventurous, like she used to be.

She’d fallen head over heels in love with a man like him, a fun-loving charmer, once before.

And had the fun choked out of her.

Literally.

CHAPTER FOUR (#u1748c73e-1d17-5731-a242-703ed7b3ad61)

HUNTER DIDN’T CALL Julie Sunday night. She’d had to leave the festival, which obviously meant she’d had something else to do. Or so he chose to think.

She wasn’t a micromanager. So she didn’t need to be told immediately that he’d hired the girls for her gala.

And...he wanted to call her badly enough that he shut himself down. He wasn’t desperate. Had never had to be overeager.

And to prove that to himself, he called a woman friend of his, one he’d been dating casually on and off for years, and took her to dinner and then to a club. He enjoyed himself just fine. More importantly, she enjoyed herself.

Mandy was fun. Vivacious. She was easy to please, and pleased to be with him. Best of all, like him, she had no expectations beyond having a good time with someone she could trust. Had no interest in more than that. The only reason he’d ended the evening early—when she’d made it clear that the night could extend until morning—was that he had an 8:00 a.m. meeting, followed by a packed Monday and a busy week.

But he’d see her again soon.

He’d assured her of that. And had won a glowing smile and intimate kiss for his trouble.

Mandy was the woman he wanted to be thinking of when he woke the next morning, made his way out to the kitchen of his high-end beach condo to put on the coffee, and headed to the shower. Mandy. Not his festival companion.

Julie Fairbanks was only on his mind because he had to remember to let her know he’d signed the girls, and he hadn’t put the reminder on his phone.

That need to call her, in the middle of such a jam-packed week, was why she was the first thing on his mind when the phone rang just as he was pulling on a polo shirt. Grabbing the sports coat that matched his pants and gave the shirt the business touch it required, he reached for his phone.

Dad.

“Hey, what’s up?” he answered, slipping into expensive loafers and shoving his wallet in his back pocket before picking up his keys from the nightstand. He’d spoken with both of his parents—separately, of course—the morning before. His regular check-in. But he and his dad, who’d moved to Florida after his parents’ divorce ten years before, chatted frequently. Mostly about golf scores and such.

“I need a favor, son.”

Son. Not Buddy, the nickname his father most often used. Or Hunter. Which generally meant his father wasn’t too pleased with him.

Son. Hunter paid attention.

“Sure. What’s up?” His father was a wealthy man. He could afford to buy just about any favor he needed. And that probably meant it involved his mother. Again.

Karen Rafferty only contacted her ex-husband when she had to. Still, she had a way of pissing his father off—almost as if she was doing it on purpose, as his father sometimes thought. Hunter was more inclined to believe that after so many years of living with a man who didn’t give her what she needed, Karen’s reactions to her ex-husband were automatic. And automatically negative. She was otherwise a kind, decent woman.

As his father was the first to acknowledge.

“You remember Betty’s brother, Edward?”

Betty...John Rafferty’s wife. Hunter’s stepmother of nine years. And Edward...

“Yeah, he was at your wedding,” Hunter said. He pictured the man, about his father’s age, a primary care doctor like his dad, and boating enthusiast, as he recalled.

A widower. With a pretty companion whose name he couldn’t remember and whose relationship with Edward reminded Hunter of him and Mandy now. Enjoying each other with no strings attached.

“He needs your help, Hunter. Anything you can do... You know so many people.”

While John’s California contacts were ten years in the past and mainly in San Diego.

“Is he in some kind of trouble?”

“His daughter is—”

Standing in his kitchen, near the door that led to his garage, Hunter shook his head. “I don’t remember a daughter. Was she at the wedding?”

Granted, he’d been a bit put out by the speed with which his father had found a new wife in his new town, concerned that the woman was using him. But now that he knew Betty, a nurse in the building where John had his private practice, he approved wholeheartedly.

“No. That’s all part of the problem. He hasn’t seen her in practically a decade. Her mom died twelve years ago. Edward buried himself in work, and Cara got in with the wrong people. You know how it is on certain parts of the beach—easy to find crowds to lose yourself in.”

Hunter, with his love of a good time coupled with the cold-war atmosphere in his home, had come close to losing his whole future on the beach in San Diego. Until his father had set him straight, telling him that his love of a good time was not something to be thrown away, but to be capitalized on. It was his talent, and he needed to use it wisely.

“She met a guy who ran some surfing school shortly after her mother died. Edward was sure the school was a front for drugs, but the more he questioned, the more Cara pulled away, saying that he just didn’t want her to be happy. She ended up following the guy to California, where he started a second surfing school. They got married. Had a little girl... He hired someone to check up on her over the years, just to make certain she was okay.”

Hunter wasn’t seeing the problem. He was seeing valuable time slip away. But when his dad called, he listened. “So the business was legit, and everything worked out.”

“Edward hoped the business was legit, that she was healthy and happy. Cara hasn’t contacted him in years or responded to any of his efforts to contact her. At one point, before they left Florida, the guy, Shawn Amos, warned Edward to leave Cara alone. Said that Edward did nothing but make her unhappy. Edward was certain, even then, that Shawn was the biggest problem between him and Cara. He says Amos turned Cara against him. He tried to tell Cara, but any time Edward said anything that could be even vaguely construed as a criticism of Shawn, Cara got defensive and quit listening to him.”

He was sorry for the guy. But he didn’t see what he could do. He was a party thrower, not a trouble solver, and he had to get to work.

They had a dozen events that week, and while he had staff to handle most of the on-site logistics, he always showed up.

“What kind of trouble is she in?”

The phone call to Julie would have to wait. He didn’t want it to be rushed. Just in case he could get her to engage in more than a brief business discussion. Still standing in his kitchen, he looked out toward the beach and realized how long it had been since he’d been out there for the sheer sake of enjoying himself, enjoying the surf. He’d known some great guys who taught surfing...

“She’s missing, Hunter.”