Barefoot in the Sun by Roxanne St. Claire Page B

moved. “Were you sitting at my desk?”
    Evan looked up from a brightly colored brochure. “No, she was.”
    What did Zoe think about him having a son? Could she possibly know that… “What did you two talk about?”
    Evan flipped the paper, mesmerized by whatever it was. “Just, you know, stuff.” He frowned and looked closer. “Whoa, look at that.”
    “What kind of stuff?” Like Evan’s age? “Did you tell her you were here for the summer?”
    “I think so.”
    “What else?”
    He held out the paper. “This place looks really cool.”
    “What else did you talk about?” Oliver asked.
    “Oh, stuff like her fairy godmother who has a man-eating plant. Wow, would you look at that.” Evan flung the paper out. “She left this flyer thingie for a hotel, but it’s not really a hotel. Look.” Evan waved a pamphlet under Oliver’s nose. “Casa Blanca. Sounds neat, huh?”
    He took the paper, glancing at it. “I delivered a baby there last night.” He flipped the page, studying the pristine beach and the understated elegance of the architecture.
    “I’d rather live there than the Shitz—” Evan stopped in response to Oliver’s stern look. “But they have houses, Dad. Not rooms.” He pointed to a beautifully appointed villa overlooking the Gulf inlet known as Barefoot Bay. “That would almost be like, you know, normal.”
    He squashed the guilt. “It’s another hotel, son, and what we need to do is buy a place.” If he ever had time, or even the inclination. For the months he’d lived in Naples, the upscale hotel had been easier. Of course, he’d planned to buy something and be moved in when Evan came for his two weeks of summer that the custody agreement allowed. Then Adele announced her plans, and Evan came down six weeks sooner than expected.
    Evan was still mooning over the brochure. “That place doesn’t seem so fancy.”
    “It’s fancy all right, but it’s not gaudy.” Although, to be fair, he hadn’t seen much of Casa Blanca the night before. After delivering the baby—after seeing Zoe—he’d wanted to get the hell out of there. Much to Adele’s displeasure, he’d insisted on leaving, his efforts to make their split amicable no longer important.
    “Well, I don’t like gaudy,” Evan said. “And that beach looks really cool.”
    If he hadn’t gone there last night he wouldn’t have seen Zoe, and she probably wouldn’t have come in here today. But why had she left so suddenly?
    He glanced up at Evan and suspected he knew exactly why. Damn it, he’d wanted to tell her himself—then and now. But both times she took off.
    “Don’t you think, Dad?”
    He looked up, zoned out on the question. “Don’t I think what?”
    “That we could live in one of those houses instead of that stupid hotel?”
    He pulled himself back to the moment and studied Evan’s face, the earnest eyes so much like the ones that stared at him in the mirror every day, and the turned-down mouth, always so serious.
    “Oh, I don’t know.”
    “We could see her all the time then.”
    There was that .
    “And I could find out why she ran away like that,” Evan added. “Do you think it was because of me?”
    The hurt in Evan’s voice hit home. Oliver had blamed himself, too, for a while. Then he’d realized that Zoe was…Zoe. “No, Evan, she didn’t leave because of…” But the truth was she had left because of Evan, at least indirectly. “Anything you said.”
    “I didn’t tell her anything, except my IQ and how old I am.” He looked down and kicked at the ground. “I know I’m not supposed to ‘brag about my brains.’ ”
    But his IQ wasn’t the number that had sent Zoe running. She’d done the math and figured it all out.
    Sighing, Oliver knew he had to do what he hadn’t done last time: go after her. And this time he knew where to find her.
      
     
    Zoe slept until almost noon the next day and woke to an eerily empty bungalow.
    Where was Pasha? She didn’t normally leave the