She shared a history with Josh that would haunt her for the rest of her life. At eighteen, she’d chosen to spare him the pain of her miscarriage by forcing him from her life. Instead of feeling guilt, she should be commending herself for her selfless act of baring the misery alone, but deep down, she regretted that decision. She could have used a hand to hold during that time.
Glancing up, she caught Martin staring at her again. She forced a smile and wished that she had something up for privacy. He smiled back and kept staring at her. She wouldn’t be able to work here if she had to deal with him staring at her all the time. It was creepy as hell.
She leaned forward and asked, “Hi. I’m getting ready to contact a client.” She tapped her computer. “Is there something you needed to ask me before I make that call?” Perhaps talking to him would rattle him and get him focused on his own work.
He seemed to startle, as if he just realized that she was talking to him. “Oh, no.” He shook his head and shrugged. “I’m just working. Sometimes I stare off when I get stuck on something. Sorry if I was staring.”
That was his standard reply for when he was caught staring. He knew it was something that he struggled with. Mother had done her best to rid him of the habit, but sometimes he fell back into it. Especially with new people. It was like their faces were one of those swirling black and white spirals that hypnotized him. He needed to memorize someone’s appearance before the mysterious pull weakened.
Senna nodded. “Okay, I’ll just make that call.” She debated going to another room to call Josh. If Josh asked her any personal questions, she’d die. She couldn’t imagine discussing their past with Martin only a few feet away.
Thankful that she had a laptop, she picked it up and headed to the small kitchen, thankful that there was a phone in there that she could use. She purposely avoided looking at Martin as she made her way around her desk with her arms full, but she could feel the weight of his stare as she strode past him.
Martin’s brow furrowed as she darted past. Where was she going with her stuff? When she disappeared into the kitchen and shut the door, he pushed back in his chair and stood. He leaned forward, over his desk, and looked down the short aisle to confirm that she was gone.
Unsure of what to do, he tiptoed to her desk and sat in her chair. The cushions were still warm from her presence. The seat was comfortable. He leaned back and set his hands on the armrests and adjusted his position in the chair. Nothing poked at him. The chair wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was nicer than his chair. He would talk to Mother about ordering a better chair for himself.
He glanced around the desktop. She had everything she could need at her desk. He’d had Mother double-check that she had pens, pencils, sticky-notes, paperclips, and tape. He didn’t think they’d forgotten anything. And with the usual paperwork stored online, they hardly used those things anymore.
He drummed his fingers on the desktop. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why she’d left her desk. Then it hit him, she was making a personal call on work time. Of course, she wouldn’t want him to hear what she was talking about. He assumed that she was calling a female doctor. That answer satisfied his curiosity. He scooted out of her chair and made his way back to his desk.
6
Josh swiped his arm across his forehead to wipe away the beads of sweat that trickled down his face. Summers in Avenel were hot and humid. The type of humidity that cloaked you in a blanket of heat and produced instant sweat the moment you stepped outside.
His cell buzzed against his thigh from inside the pocket of his cargo shorts. He slid his hand into his pocket and retrieved it. He swallowed hard when he read Reid’s Accounting Firm. He hadn’t thought about it yesterday, but was Senna replacing Sharon Sullivan? What were the chances that Senna was on the other end of the cell?
His paced kicked up a notch as he cut through the front yard to his truck. The cell buzzed again. He pulled open the door of his truck and accepted the call as he slid into the driver’s seat and started the truck.
“Hello, Sand Castle Design Experts,” he said as professionally as he could. He angled the air conditioning vent towards him. A burst of hot air pelted his face, but it quickly transitioned to cooler air.
Even though Senna couldn’t see him, she could picture him on the other end, and it made her heart race. “Hi, Mr. Turner,” she began. Using his last name like that sounded weird, but she’d been professional with all the other calls she’d made to clients today. She figured she’d maintain her professionalism.
Josh couldn’t help but laugh at the way ‘Mr. Turner’ sounded coming from her. “Hi, this is Senna, right?” he asked. He ran his hand up and down his thigh with nervous energy.
Senna stared up at the ceiling in the kitchen and prayed that she could keep the awkwardness out of her voice. “Yes, I’m taking over Ms. Sullivan’s accounts.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t think about that yesterday when we ran into each other,” he began. “But really, you can call me Josh. We used to be good friends.” Okay, the word friends didn’t begin to describe the level of intimacy they’d shared.
She cringed at the use of friends. Was he trying to hurt her feelings by belittling what they had? Resolute to not get stuck in the past, she nodded and replied, “Okay, Josh,” she chuckled. “I guess you figured out why I’m calling. You’re one of my clients,” she added lamely.
He tapped a thumb on the steering wheel and stared at the cell in his hand. He didn’t know what to say. Their meeting yesterday had been so strange. So unexpected. But even right now, sitting in his truck, he had no idea what to say to her. This was a business call. He couldn’t pelt her with questions about their past, no matter how the questions slice through his brain.
Senna continued, “I’m contacting all of my clients today. I hope to transition your working partnership with Ms. Sullivan to myself as smoothly as possible. Please know that if you have any questions, you can reach out to me.”
He had questions. Just none that had anything to do with work. A burning in his chest flared as his gut prodded him to be assertive. “Actually,” he began, “I do have a few questions. Would it be possible for us to meet? Maybe have dinner?”
Senna’s heart raced as she processed his question. Was he asking her out on a date? Before she could answer, Martin strolled into the kitchen and lifted his hand in a wave. She forced her lips into a smile and gave a little wave back to him.
Martin knew he should give her privacy to make her call, but his curiosity got the best of him. He slowly made his way to the refrigerator to grab some water. He hoped she’d continue the mysterious conversation as he lingered in the room.
Senna watched as Martin trudged to the refrigerator. As if having to make this call wasn’t bad enough, she had to have her boss listen in on it. She prayed that Martin would quickly get whatever he wanted and go back to his desk.
Senna cleared her throat. “Yes, we could do that.” She shifted in her chair and angled her back towards Martin in a vain attempt to limit his eavesdropping.
Martin pulled out the Brita water pitcher and set it on the counter. He never tried to brag about his conscious choice to save the environment by using the water pitcher to filter his water. Not only did he reduce his use of plastic bottles, but it made him feel good. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and began to fill it.
Josh smiled like a damn hyena at her affirmative response to his dinner invitation. “Good. What about tonight? Are you free?”
Tonight? Senna’s eyes bugged. Josh wasn’t wasting any time. “I think that would work.” She didn’t want it known that she was nervous to set up a dinner meeting with a client when her boss was in the room. If any other client wanted to meet with her, she wouldn’t be nervous about her boss finding out. She’d even put it in her work calendar, but Josh wasn’t any other client.
And she had a feeling this meeting wouldn’t be focused on work.
Josh could hear the hesitation in her voi
ce, but that didn’t deter him. He wanted to see her again. No, he needed to see her again. “Shall I pick you up? Does six-thirty work for you?”
“Well,” she began and cleared her throat. Would she have to offer an animal sacrifice to the God of Work Serenity to get Martin out of the room?
She continued, “Would it be possible for me to text you at a later time? That would give me a chance to look over your files.”
Josh’s brow furrowed. She was dodging his question. Was she going to bail on him? “Of course.” He cursed his rash decision to ask her out for dinner. She’d ghosted him years ago. He shouldn’t have put her on the spot like that.
“Great.” She stared at Martin’s back as he put away the water pitcher. “I look forward to working with you,” she prattled off and ended the call without waiting for Josh’s reply.
Josh stared at the cell in his hand. She’d hung up on him. She hadn’t waited for his response. He’d been dismissed, just like she’d done ten years ago. His thumb tapping against the steering wheel went from nervous to ticked off.
He had questions, and dammit, he wanted some answers.
7
Senna stepped up to the hostess podium at The Fish Fry and gave her name. She was on time, but she knew that Josh would already be there. He’d always been prompt in high school.
The hostess looked at the seating chart and replied, “Your date for the evening is already seated. Please follow me.”
Senna didn’t correct the woman. She wasn’t on a date, but she wasn’t going to split hairs over semantics. This was a working dinner, she reminded herself as they cut through the restaurant and exited onto the patio seating on the deck. The patio was actually a long, wide pier that overlooked the ocean.
The sun was lowering in the sky to the west. A cool ocean breeze floated over her skin. She was glad that she’d brought a light cardigan to ward off the chill.
Josh stood when Senna stepped onto the pier. She was dressed in professional clothes, slacks and a modest blouse. Past memories of their time together crashed over him and hit him like a hurricane.
He wasn’t over her. He wasn’t over the rejection that nearly drove him mad a decade ago.
In high school, he’d fallen hard for her. She’d consumed his thoughts and owned his heart. When she’d left for California, he had every intention of transferring to a university out there. He’d at least be within driving distance of her for long weekends. They could have stayed together, seen where their relationship took them. Maybe they’d be married right now.
But when she dropped him, refused to answer his calls or texts, anger replaced the love that he had for her. Maybe he should have gone to her, pounded on the door and slept on the sidewalk outside her aunt’s house until she agreed to see him. Maybe he should have fought for their relationship. But everyone told him to get over her. After weeks of rejection, he embraced their guidance. If she didn’t want him, he needed to find someone who did.
After his heart was made a wasteland, he’d shoved her to the back of his mind. He did his best to kick her out of his heart, to reclaim his manhood and move on. But the truth was… he wasn’t over her.
That realization startled him. The scar tissue that covered his heart still had exposed nerve endings. Nerve endings that scared the hell out of him. If a decade had ticked by, and he still wasn’t over her, would he ever be able to move on?
He prayed that if he got the answers to his questions, that maybe the gaping hole in his heart would shrink and disappear. He’d finally understand her reasoning and be able to put her behind him.
He moved towards her, stretching his arm out in the beginning of a hug, but he caught the hesitation on her face and lowered his arm. She’d flinched at the idea of a hug. The rejection stung.
What the hell was he thinking, even trying to give her a hug?
Shifting his stance, he placed the offending hand on the chair back and pulled it out for her. “Good evening, Senna. Is sitting outside okay with you?” His brow furrowed with worry. Maybe he shouldn’t have assumed that she’d want to be outside. September evenings could get chilly along the water. “Would you prefer to sit inside?”
She swallowed and forced a smile. “No, this is perfect,” she said, coming near him. As she sat down, she whispered, “Thank you.”
She glanced up at his face and wished for a do over. If she could change what she’d done all those years ago, she would. But she’d made her choice, and dang it, she had to commit to the fall out. If she came clean now, he’d never forgive her.
She settled herself in her seat and spread the napkin over her lap as he seated himself across from her. Their eyes connected, and a weighted moment filled the distance between them. Neither could read the other’s thoughts. In truth, neither understood their own thoughts.
He ended the silence and said, “Thanks for meeting with me. It was quite a shock when I heard your voice today. I never imagined that you’d be taking over my account.”
“I know, right?” She nodded and smiled. “Mom had mentioned that you own your own business. That’s great.”
With nervous energy, he lightly tapped the table with his index finger. “Yes. It’s going well. I enjoy my work.”
“I like the name you chose. What exactly does Sand Castle Design Experts do? What does your day look like?”
“Well, in the summer it’s hot, and a lot of people rent out their homes. We go to our clients’ houses to maintain and make sure the chemicals are at safe levels in the pools and hot tubs for the renters. We don’t do a lot of big projects during the summer. Most of our big designing jobs are in the fall through early spring. We design and build backyard settings. Mostly pools and pool surrounds. You know the tile work or concrete around the pool. We build fire pits and outdoor kitchens. But my biggest client is The Inn at Avenel.”
“Really?” the word came out full of awe. The Inn at Avenel was the only hotel within thirty miles of them on the Hidden Banks. The grounds were vast and boasted large flower beds and gardens. “That’s a huge client. How many people work for you?”
He held a finger up and said, “Wait,” he said lightly. “My people don’t do the day to day maintenance. The Inn has its own team of gardeners who do that work. My company provides the flowers that fill the beds, the mulch, stuff like that.”
“Oh,” she nodded in understanding. “You’re the middle-man.”
“Yes, all the plants have to be brought in from a supplier on the mainland. I buy them directly from the nursery and sell them to The Inn at a good price. You’d be surprised how often the plants in those beds get changed.”
“I bet. That place always looks stellar.” She hadn’t been to The Inn at Avenel in over a decade. “I’m figuring it hasn’t changed too much over the past ten years.”
“Still a five-star hotel and restaurant.”
She leaned forward and whispered, “Can I tell you a secret?” She had no idea how those words managed to come out of her mouth. Was her subconscious working to fix the awkwardness between them?
He imitated her body language and eased towards her. “Yes, please.” His eyes twinkled with humor at the joy in her face. Maybe this wouldn’t be a horrible dinner.
Senna began, “During our sophomore year in high school, a certain pastry chef, who shall remain nameless, and I pulled a little prank.”
A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Dahlia and you? What? Did you tie people’s shoe laces together?” Those two could dream up trouble, but they never had the spine to go through with their trickery.
“Ha, ha.” She gave him a mean look for mocking her. “Anyway,” she continued, “there was a conference there. I think it was dentists or chiropractors. Some sort of health thing.” She shook her head dismissively. “That doesn’t really matter. So,” she began dramatically, “there was a group of men that went into the men’s locker room.”
A big smile broadened Josh’s face. “Don’t tell me you followed a bunch of men into the locker
room?”
She widened her eyes to relay a ‘just wait’ visual message. “Well,” she began, dragging out the word. “Dahl,” she caught herself. He guffawed. “My friend and I thought that some of them were kind of cute.”
“Dentists and chiropractors were hot to you when you were fifteen?” he asked jokingly.
She sat back in her chair and gave him a warning look. “Just so you know, there were a few who looked like they just finished college. They weren’t old. They had this Chris Pratt or Tom Hiddleston look about them.”
His smile transformed into a smirk. “You got a thing for Loki or just superheroes in general?” He was enjoying this friendly banter.
“Do you want me to finish?” she asked with one raised brow.
He nodded his head. “Please do. I can’t wait to hear your big secret concerning these hot men.”
“As you wish,” she began. “They passed us in the hallway outside the locker rooms. They were talking about using the sauna.”
“Oh, my god,” he groaned and leaned back in the chair and turned his eyes to the heavens. “Please tell me you didn’t perv on them in the sauna like creepy voyeurs.”
Her face transformed into a look of disgust. “No. Gross. Why would you even think that?”
He shrugged indifferently.
“Back to my story,” she giggled. Why the hell was she telling him this? Was she that desperate for conversation that this blast from the past fell from her lips? “We waited about ten minutes and then snuck into the locker room. We peeked around the lockers and spotted their clothes and stuff near the sauna. We weren’t about to do anything that could get us in serious trouble.” She cocked her head. “Because we’re smart.”
“And rule followers,” he stated.
“Obviously,” she said with bugged eyes. “Anyway, we grabbed their things and shifted everything to different rows of lockers and benches. We didn’t steal anything. We just wanted to play with their heads. Make them hunt around for their stuff. It was harmless.”
Senna's Secret Page 4