The Lady of Tarpon Springs Page 10

  The corners of Nico’s lips lifted into a broad grin when he saw her. “Zanna! I’m happy to see you. I thought everyone was gone.”

  She didn’t return his smile. “You didn’t think I would be waiting for an explanation as to why you took the boats out without letting me know, and why you let my brother accompany you? He could have died!”

  Nico tipped his head to the side. “We all could have died, but that’s the chance we take making our living on sponge boats. Atticus is fine. He’s a young man and was eager for a taste of excitement and adventure. He got his fill of both while we were in the Gulf.” He grinned. “When we neared shore, he told me he’d lost all interest in making his living as a seafaring man.” Then his brow creased. “He had permission to go with me, so why are you angry?”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t make light of what you did. He may have had my father’s permission, but you knew I didn’t want him going out on the boats.”

  “Why, then, did you tell him he could come along with me?”

  Her mouth gaped. “I never . . . did he . . . ? Oooh, I’m going to see that he pays dearly for that lie.”

  “I’m glad to hear your anger is directed at Atticus and not me.” He lifted his hand and pretended to wipe nonexistent beads of perspiration from his forehead.

  “Don’t become too reassured. You’re not out of trouble that easily. You still haven’t told me why I wasn’t informed you were taking the boats out on this first voyage.”

  He rested his hip against the weathered boards of the warehouse. “I can’t work on a time clock or come looking for you each time the boats are going out. As long as the crews have enough food and water and the weather is satisfactory, they’ll remain until they locate good sponge beds and harvest a full load—sometimes as long as two weeks.” He shoved his cap back on his head. “Yesterday the weather appeared favorable, and the men and I were eager to see what we would find in the Gulf waters.”

  “From what I observed, the weather wasn’t so favorable.”

  “The conditions were excellent when we left the docks. Fair-weather waterspouts can arise at any time. If you don’t believe me, ask your father, or any fisherman.”

  A breeze tugged at her hair, and she brushed a strand behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound abrupt, but you need to understand how worried I was when I realized the boats were out there and might capsize.”

  “And what about the men? Were you worried about us?”

  “Of course I was worried about the men. I care more about their safety than I do the boats or the sponges.”

  He leaned in. “And what about me? Do you wish I’d have fallen overboard?”

  Her pulse quickened, and her cheeks warmed at his nearness. His coal-black eyes held a hint of mischief, which made her want to smile. She forced her expression to remain neutral. He didn’t need to know he had any sort of effect on her. But how could she tell this man that, besides having something happen to her brother, losing him was her greatest worry? She didn’t want him putting himself in harm’s way. She told herself it was a reasonable feeling. After all, without him, what would she do with the fifty spongers? Still, in their short time together, had she begun to see him as a friend? A business partner?

  “Did you fear I might not return and that you would forever miss me?” He waved his hand in front of her face.

  She blinked and swatted his hand away. “Don’t flatter yourself, Nico.”

  He chuckled. “I have great respect for you, Zanna. I am proud to call you my friend.”

  Zanna’s eyes widened. Friends? Was that what they were becoming? She straightened her shoulders. She’d have to be more careful. Naturally, two people working toward a common goal could become friends, but was that wise? This was Lucy’s business, and what was best for it needed to come first.

  CHAPTER

  11

  Lucy traced her finger down the calendar of today’s appointments. Zanna was expected at nine o’clock. She’d asked to come by to discuss matters relating to the sponging business. Lucy’s continued assurance that she’d given Zanna complete control to operate the business had seemingly fallen upon deaf ears. Still, Lucy had to admit she was somewhat eager to speak with Zanna and hear her news.

  They hadn’t spoken since the boats returned from their first voyage. Once Lucy had been certain none of the men needed medical treatment, she’d returned to care for the patients waiting in her office. However, Lucy was intrigued by Zanna’s surprising anxiety each time she spoke of Nico. While Lucy had expected Zanna’s concern over Atticus and his well-being, she was surprised by her friend’s strong reaction over the safety of the Greek who, from all accounts, had been at odds with her since his arrival. There was no denying the man was handsome, but Zanna wasn’t a woman whose head was turned by an attractive man. If so, she would have been married long ago. Lucy knew of at least three striking gentlemen who had attempted to pursue Zanna. All had been met with kind yet firm refusals. But Lucy had detected something in her friend’s countenance when she spoke of Nico that day. There had been a tremor in her voice and a distant look in her eyes that wasn’t apparent when she spoke of the other Greeks—or her brother.

  Lucy was still mulling her thoughts when the bell over her office door jangled and Zanna breezed into the office. She removed her gloves as she crossed the room. Lucy grinned. “You must be intending on a long visit.”

  Zanna tucked the gloves into her bag. “I’ll try to be brief, but I would like your approval on a couple of matters. And before you object, I know you’ve given me authority to make decisions, but one of them involves signing a contract, and I’m not going to forge your name.”

  “Not another contract. Contracts haven’t served me well thus far.”

  “I know, but this one is fairly simple. After their first voyage, Nico and the other divers reported to me that the quality and quantity of sponges in the Gulf is far beyond their greatest expectations. All of that is good news. It also means we need a place to trim and store the sponges. According to Nico, a place much larger than I anticipated. We’ll need to rent a warehouse close to the docks.”

  “Why do we need a contract to rent a warehouse? Can’t you just verbally agree to a monthly rental?”

  “Perhaps if we didn’t need something so large and close to the docks,” Zanna replied. “I do have a possibility, though, which is why I wanted to talk to you about the contract. Mr. Francis owns a large building next to the auction warehouse that he’s willing to clear out and let us rent—if you’ll sign a contract that binds the sponging company to rent it for at least a year. And he’ll give us the option to extend the contract after the year is over. It’s a wonderful solution to our problem, Lucy.”

  “While attending medical school, it never entered my mind that one of my future problems would be locating a warehouse to store sponges.” She folded her hands atop the walnut desk. “I considered challenges such as being rejected by male patients or being unable to save the life of a child. But locating a sponge warehouse to rent?” Lucy shook her head.

  “You don’t have to locate the warehouse. I’ve already done that—and I’ve drawn up the contract.” She reached into her bag, retrieved the paper work, and slid it across Lucy’s desk. “All you need to do is sign at the bottom and the problem is solved.”

  Instead of reaching for her pen, Lucy leaned back in her chair. “Does the contract have a clause that permits termination if I sell the business?”

  Zanna lurched back as though she’d been slapped.

  “I know you don’t want me to consider selling the business, but owning a sponging business, even one that may become profitable, continues to feel like an albatross around my neck.”

  “No, this contract doesn’t permit termination. However, if you find a buyer and decide to sell the business, we could draw up a contract of sale that requires the buyer to assume the warehouse contract with Mr. Francis.” Zanna sighed and reached forward to retrieve t
he paper work. “It may be best if I write that into the contract so there’s no possibility of a dispute should you sell. You’ll sign it with the additional clause?”

  Lucy didn’t miss her friend’s look of disapproval. “Yes, of course, but I do hope my desire to sell isn’t going to create a problem for our friendship.”

  “No, this is purely business. I’m trying to do my best for you, and I think the wise thing is to hold on to the business for several years—especially now that we know there are excellent sponge beds in the Gulf. But the business belongs to you, and whatever you decide isn’t going to change our friendship.” Zanna tucked the contract into her bag, then sat up and met Lucy’s gaze. “I’m a little hurt you would question my loyalty to your business over our friendship.”

  Lucy tilted her head. “In truth, I was thinking more of Nico than the actual business when I questioned a possible fracture to our friendship.”

  “Nico? He would never come between us. How did that thought ever pop into your mind?”

  “I was watching and listening to you down at the dock the other day when the boats were coming in from their first voyage. Your concern for Atticus was expected, but it appeared your worries over Nico were as intense as those for your brother.”

  “Lucy Penrose, that isn’t true at all!” Zanna stiffened in her chair.

  “Isn’t it? Then why are you so defensive?” Lucy curved her lips in a soft smile. “There’s nothing wrong with having feelings for Nico or any other man, but I was surprised you hadn’t told me.”

  “Because there was nothing to tell. You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. Of course I was concerned about Nico. He’s the one who brought that group of men to Tarpon Springs. What was I going to do if he didn’t come back? They won’t listen to a word I say unless he repeats my orders as if they’re his own. If he’d been injured and unable to issue orders, the men would have been off doing whatever they pleased.”

  Lucy chuckled. “I doubt that. If something had happened to him, they’re intelligent enough to realize they’d need to listen to you in order to survive.”

  “You don’t know Greek men, Lucy. Those spongers would rather return to Greece than take orders from me or any other woman. As for Nico, we may have begun a working friendship of sorts, but it’s nothing more than that.”

  “You can say there’s nothing between you and Nico, but the blush in your cheeks betrays you, my friend.”

  “That’s because it’s warm in here.” Zanna pulled a glove from her bag and waved it in front of her face. “If we could talk about matters of importance, I wanted to tell you that Mr. Francis mentioned that Mr. Pappas—the sponge buyer from New York who knew your father—will be in town on Friday for the auction. You said you wanted to speak to him when he came to town.”

  “Thank you. I do want to meet him and ask why he didn’t write to me after my father’s death. And might I add that your ability to move the conversation from Nico to Mr. Pappas was quite skillful. Is that something you learned while studying the law with Mr. Burnside?” When Zanna’s mouth gaped, Lucy waved. “I was only teasing you. I do want to—”

  Before she could finish, the front door burst open and the bell above it rang with a vengeance. Bessie Rochester glanced up at the offending bell before scurrying toward Lucy. “Praise the Lord! I was worried you wouldn’t be here.” She gasped for breath. “Come quick! Sister is lying in a heap down at the ice-cream store.”

  Lucy pushed away from her desk and stood. “Let me get my bag.” She hesitated a moment. “Which sister, Bessie? Is it Viola or Eugenia?”

  All three sisters loved attention, especially from Lucy. They didn’t mind the expense of a home visit, even if it wasn’t necessary. Having Lucy attend to them at home meant they would receive her uninterrupted care. Unfortunately, they’d feigned emergencies on so many occasions, Lucy was becoming wary of their antics.

  “It’s Viola. She was enjoying a dish of ice cream when she got up to go back to the counter and request a glass of water. I think there must have been something slick on the floor. She slid and fell in a heap. You’d better hurry. I think she’s broken something—a leg or an arm—I’m not sure, but she was wailing like a newborn when I left the store.” Bessie patted Zanna’s shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt you, my dear.”

  “Not at all, Miss Bessie. Your sister’s emergency is much more serious than my conversation with Dr. Penrose.” Zanna smiled at the older woman. “Is there anything I can do?”

  Bessie bobbed her head. “Since you asked, it might be helpful if you came along. You can calm Eugenia while Dr. Penrose cares for Viola. There’s no keeping Eugenia settled when Viola or I need medical attention. She does become distraught, doesn’t she, Doctor?”

  Lucy arched her brows. “She does, but I think all three of you tend to be a bit histrionic regarding medical problems.”

  Bessie clasped a hand to her lace fichu and gasped. “You think I’m histrionic?” She shook her head. “I’m like the calm before the storm.”

  Lucy grinned. “And Viola and Eugenia are the storm? Is that what you’re saying, Miss Bessie?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Lucy cleared her throat and touched a finger to her ear.

  Bessie frowned. “Well, I suppose I was a little melodramatic when I thought I’d lost my hearing.”

  Lucy stepped close and whispered in Zanna’s ear, “She was in hysterics. I thought I’d never get her settled. She insisted upon being seen before any of my other patients.”

  Zanna looked at the older woman. “So, what was the problem with your hearing, Miss Bessie?”

  Bessie pursed her lips. “We don’t have time to talk about this while Sister is lying on the floor at the ice-cream shop.” She hooked her hand into the crook of Dr. Penrose’s arm, then looked at Zanna. “Are you coming with us?”

  “If Lucy thinks I can help.” Zanna stood and looked at Lucy.

  Lucy wanted to set things aright before the two of them parted. Zanna’s discomfort had been obvious during their earlier conversation. The two of them had been friends for far too long to let anyone or anything jeopardize their relationship—especially a sponging business. If all went well, there would be a few minutes to finish their conversation after she tended to Viola.

  “I’d appreciate having you come along, but if you need to go back to your office and rewrite the contract, I understand.”

  “The contract won’t take long. Besides, I want to know what happened to Miss Bessie’s ears.”

  Bessie wrinkled her nose and tugged Lucy forward. “You didn’t need to tell her about my ears, Dr. Lucy.”

  Lucy chuckled. “You must admit there was no reason for all that hysteria.” Lucy slowed her step and came alongside Zanna. “Bessie forgot she’d put small pieces of cotton batting in her ears the night before, and . . .”

  Bessie leaned forward to make eye contact with Zanna. “Because I couldn’t get any sleep, what with Viola snoring like she does.”

  Lucy nodded. “All I did was remove the batting from her ears.”

  Bessie sniffed. “It was a miracle. Pure and simple. One minute I couldn’t hear a thing, and the next, everything was clear as a bell.”

  Lucy attempted to stifle her laughter. “I’m not sure pulling batting out of your ears qualifies as a miracle, but I won’t argue with you, Bessie.”

  “You know you wouldn’t win.” The old woman gave a firm nod.

  Bessie continued to chatter until they’d arrived at the ice-cream store. Lucy stopped short when she spotted Viola and Eugenia sitting at one of the wrought-iron-and-oak parlor tables, spooning ice cream into their mouths. “Looks like we have another miracle, Bessie.”

  The older woman closed the distance between the doorway and table in record time. “Viola! Why aren’t you on the floor?”

  Viola stared at her sister. “Why would I want to sit on the floor? I’d look like a fool.”

  “Because you were on the floor when I left. Do you recall falling d
own and shouting in pain? You said you needed the doctor.” Bessie didn’t wait for a response. “I hurried to fetch Dr. Lucy, and now just look at you. You’re eating ice cream as if nothing happened.”

  “Now, Sister, don’t get all worked up. You should be glad that I’m fine. Come sit down and have a dish of ice cream.”

  Lucy smiled at Bessie. “Go ahead and join your sisters, Bessie. No harm done. I’m glad Viola is fine.” She glanced at Zanna. “We could have a cup of coffee and finish our conversation, if you’d like. Or if you enjoy ice cream this early in the day . . .”

  Zanna shook her head. “No ice cream, but coffee would be nice.”

  After placing their order, the two of them sat down at a table located on the other side of the shop. Lucy stirred a spoonful of sugar into her cup. “Before we parted ways, I wanted to be certain nothing I said earlier had created ill feeling. I know I can be curt when it comes to any discussion of the sponging endeavor, but I’m afraid I still harbor some bitterness that I was caught off guard by the entire matter.” She forced a smile. “I understand that none of this is your fault. If not for you, I’d be struggling on my own. But it’s still difficult for me to accept my father left me in this predicament. Gambling his money on a business venture that he knew nothing about was out of character for him.”

  Zanna took a sip of her coffee. “There’s no way to know why he did it, Lucy. Perhaps he’d reached a point in life where he wanted a bit of adventure. Who can say? Besides, even if we knew, it wouldn’t change anything. Instead of wondering why he made the investment, we need to make his investment successful, and the only way to do that is to rent a warehouse and hire additional employees to trim, size, and package the sponges.”

  Lucy sighed. “I’ll sign the contract for the warehouse if you make the change I requested. I’m not sure about employees. I don’t have money to pay wages, and I’m sure they won’t work without pay.”