“Senna,” he corrected, then winced.
Lia’s eyes flashed with contempt. “Senna,” she repeated slowly. “I don’t want to play games. I’m not interested in being someone’s ‘for now’ relationship. I want a serious relationship with a man who is infatuated with me. And the truth is,” she shook her head with disappointment, “You aren’t infatuated with me.”
Damn, he couldn’t deny that she was right. She did deserve someone who would appreciate her, and he was fixated on Senna. With a dismissive shake of his head, he said, “I don’t think I love Senna. At least not the way you think.”
Lia bit into her bottom lip.
“I did love her. Things ended weird between us. I think you’re picking up on our baggage.”
“The fact that you have baggage tells me that you’re not in love with me.” She brought her hand to her chest and let out a heavy sigh. “You don’t know this, but we have met two of the men that I’ve dated while out in Clearland. You didn’t even pick up on it because I don’t have feelings for them. But what you have with Senna,” she pronounced the name dramatically to show him that she got the name right, “it’s not just fit in the trunk of your car baggage. You two have jumbo jet sized baggage. I’m not interested in dealing with that.”
She continued, “Admit it. When we were having sex, it wasn’t me you were thinking of.”
God, had he been that obvious. “That’s not true,” he replied, shaking his head. He needed to deal with the condom, but he couldn’t get up and walk to the bathroom while she was baring her soul.
“Yes, it is,” she practically chuckled. “Not once did you whisper my name. You’ve always whispered my name when we made love.” She pointed to the messy bed. “What we just did wasn’t making love. We fucked.” And that little truth diced her heart into pieces.
She pulled on her shorts. “I’m going to head home. Good luck with Senna.” She said it, and knew it sounded snarky. She paused and made eye contact with him. “That came out harsher than I wanted.” She exhaled and cocked her head to the side. “I hope you find what you’re looking for. You’re a good guy. You deserve it.”
He stood, the sheet falling from his body. It was awkward with his junk hanging out. He scooped up his briefs and put them on. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I really did like you.”
She nodded, noting the past tense. “I really liked you too.” She gathered up her few possessions.
He felt stupid watching her collect her stuff. Should he help her?
She zipped up her bag and then turned and faced him. “Good bye,” she said, sliding her bag strap onto her shoulder.
They ambled through the house in silence. Then she walked out the front door without a kiss or a hug.
11
Dahlia and Senna strolled through the aisles of the home furnishings store. “What exactly are you looking for?” Dahlia asked. “You sure seemed to have plenty of stuff for us to unload last weekend.” She and Mark had helped for hours unpacking the day she arrived, and she knew that Senna still wasn’t finished.
“Yes, and I’m eternally grateful for your help.” Senna stopped beside a velvet love seat that reminded her of one she’d seen in a mansion in Charleston. She loved the antique reproductions with fancy woodwork. It had always been a dream to have a Victorian house with antique furniture one day, but that would be impossible to find in Avenel. Avenel was packed with large McMansions for tourists to rent and smaller bungalows for the year-round Hidden Banks residents.
“This is nice,” Senna said, dragging her finger along the soft, burgundy velvet.
“Yes, but you already have a sofa,” Dahlia replied. Her mind played a video reel of them struggling to arrange the large piece in Senna’s living room. “Where would you put that?” she asked skeptically. “You don’t want to cramp your living room.” The room was a good size, but too much furniture in a space made it look closed in and suffocating.
Senna cocked her head to the side, catching on to Dahlia’s negativity. “I don’t know. My bedroom?”
Dahlia snorted. “Okay, that’s creepy for so many reasons.”
Senna made a ‘you’re crazy’ look at Dahlia. “How is that creepy?”
“Who needs sitting space for guests inside their bedroom? Hmm?” Dahlia asked with bugged eyes. “What did a decade in California do to you?”
Senna laughed. “You have a pervo mind.” She grabbed Dahlia’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze and then let go. “It’s so good to be with you again. I’ve missed you. And the sofa would look pretty as an accent piece. Fancy places do that sort of thing.”
“Yes, and it would also accumulate clothes and books. Who knows what else?” Dahlia shrugged, still hoping to dissuade Senna from purchasing the sofa. She knew she would get roped into helping to move the item.
Senna pointed a finger at Dahlia. “That’s what would happen at your place. I’m organized. Did you forget that?” Senna teased. “It would look fabulous.”
“Hey, I’m organized,” Dahlia mumbled and then added, “Most of the time.”
“Okay,” Senna replied with the corners of her lips curved up.
They rounded the aisle, and Senna stopped at a six-panel, Japanese style Shoji room divider. Each panel was divided into rectangles and had a Frank Lloyd Wright craftsman feel. “What do you think of this?” Senna touched the outer edge and tilted her body so she could examine both sides of the screen.
“What on earth do you need that for?” Dahlia asked. What had California done to her best friend? “Where would you put that thing?” The condo was spacious, but she couldn’t imagine that thing anywhere at Senna’s.
Senna made a somber face and looked around them. Then she stepped closer to Dahlia and whispered. “What if I took it to work to separate my desk from his?”
Dahlia cocked her head and blinked repeatedly as she processed Senna’s question. “You mean you feel you need a privacy wall to separate you from your boss?” A tendril of concern coiled into her stomach. “Is this a cry for help?” Was Senna serious? She had to be joking. “Why would you even need that?”
Senna swallowed hard and glanced around again. “Our desks face each other. You met him. He’s awkward, and he has a staring problem.”
Dahlia nearly laughed but covered her mouth with her hand. “Does he stare at you all day?”
Senna raised her shoulders and twisted her lips into an awkward smile-not-smile and said, “Kind of.”
“And your solution is to buy a privacy screen to block him?” What was the solution? He owned the place. It wasn’t like she could speak with Management about his behavior.
“Not a terrible idea, right?” Senna had hoped his stares would lessen as the week went on, but they hadn’t. She caught him sneaking glances of her throughout the day. It was unnerving.
Dahlia made a ‘let me get this straight’ look and began, “I’m going to say this slowly so you can process what I’m saying. You’re asking me if Norman Bates will have a problem with you blocking his weird glances? Oh, I don’t know,” she mocked, “how did Norman feel about shower curtains?” If her eyes bugged any bigger, they’d fall out and roll along the floor. “Are you serious?”
“We already talked about this. He is not Norman Bates. I don’t think he even realizes that he’s doing it.”
“Hmm,” Dahlia grunted, not even sure where to begin with her friend. “Let me get this straight, your plan is to drag this humongous screen thingy into the office on Monday and set it up in the middle of the room.” She motioned to the height and width of the screen. “And you don’t think he’s going to ask you about it?”
“Oh,” Senna laughed, “I’m certain that he’ll say something. I’ll just tell him that I’ve always worked behind cubicle walls. And since I didn’t have a cubicle, I thought this would be a nice alternative.” She shifted her weight and added, “I have the right to be comfortable in my workspace.”
Dahlia nodded and pitied her friend’s naivety. “Ok, back at di
nner, I thought you had a great heart, showing him compassion and all that. Now I realized you’re in extreme denial. This man is dangerous.”
“Not this again. He’s fine. Being different does not make someone dangerous, or Norman Bates.”
“But please tell me you see some red flags. I need to know that you are still in touch with reality.” Dahlia took on a serious expression. “Look, I ignored all the signs that someone was stealing from me because I couldn’t imagine that anyone would literally try to destroy me like that.”
Senna cocked her head. “Destroy you? Dramatic much?”
“I know. It sounds crazy, but it’s true. Corporate Sabotage is a real thing. I’ll fill you in on the details later. Regardless, pay attention to the signals that he puts out.”
“Come on. If I thought he was dangerous, I’d quit.” Senna collapsed the panels together. “Now help me with this.” She gripped the edges and struggled to lift it. “This thing’s heavier than it looks,” she groaned under the weight.
Dahlia grabbed it near the floor and lifted. With great effort and lots of weird groaning, they managed to set it in the shopping cart. The tops of the panels stuck out awkwardly.
“Be careful pushing this thing.” Dahlia stepped back and evaluated the safety of the large piece being half-in and half-out of the cart. “Especially near the crystal.”
Senna leaned to the side to look around the panels. Crystal, picture frames, and mirrors filled the aisle. She nodded her head. “Good idea. Let’s go down a different aisle.”
They shifted the cart to a different aisle and made their way to checkout.
“How are you going to get this thing into work on Monday?” Dahlia would love to volunteer to help just to see Martin’s face when he saw it, but she had to open the bakery.
Senna bit her lip. She hadn’t thought that far in advance. “I’ll ask Mark.”
Dahlia smiled, one of those smiles that she knew would annoy Senna. “You could always ask Josh,” she almost sang. “I’m sure he’d help you if you needed it.”
“He’s dating someone. Remember?” she mocked dryly. “We literally just met her. She’s beautiful. Probably doing all the things that girlfriends do right now as we speak.”
“Hmm, that tall, waifish thing?” Dahlia said with a smirk. “I think you can take her.”
Senna snorted and gave Dahlia a death stare. “If that was supposed to be a compliment, it wasn’t. Are you implying that since I outweigh the waif, I could kick her ass?”
“No. Not at all.” Dahlia made a ‘that’s so ridiculous’ face and gave a dramatic sigh. “I’m implying that you have something she doesn’t have. You have history with Josh. It’s hard to compete against someone’s first love.”
Dahlia wondered how far she could push her friend. Raising a brow, she continued, “You know, everyone thought you two would get married, settle down, and have a bunch of kids. What happened?”
Senna tilted her head from side-to-side as if she was dramatically thinking something over. “We grew up. Life happened.” She shrugged. “No one actually marries their first love. This isn’t the fifties.”
“It’s not the fifties, but your first always has a special place in your heart. You were his first too, right?” She didn’t know that for sure, but she couldn’t remember Josh with any other girl before Senna.
Scrunching up her face in curiosity, Senna asked, “What makes you so sure that Josh and I had sex?”
Dahlia’s jaw dropped, and her mind whirled. “Of course, you did?” she barked. “Right?” Her face took on a quizzical look. “I mean, everyone assumed you two did it. You guys couldn’t keep your hands off of each other in public. It just made sense that you’d be doing it” she mouthed, “in private.”
“Hmm,” Senna grunted.
“You guys had sex, right?” Dahlia whispered, this time confused and surprised that she didn’t know for sure.
Not wanting to confirm Dahlia’s assumption, she figured it would be better for Dahlia to think that she and Josh had never had sex. If they’d never had sex, she’d never been pregnant.
She gave Dahlia a shrug and smirk. “Listen, don’t try to set us up or anything,” she warned. “I’m not interested in Josh. What we had was in the past. Promise me you won’t interfere in my dating life.”
“You don’t have a dating life. You have a,” she leaned forward and whispered, “creepy boss whose gaze has initiated the need in you to buy yourself a giant Japanese screen. It wouldn’t be bad if he thought a hot guy was after you.”
Senna raised a finger to tick off her points. “First, a hot guy is not after me. He’s dating someone.” Why Dahlia couldn’t get that through her head, she had no idea. Senna wasn’t about to poach a guy she needed desperately to avoid.
“Hm. It is noted that you agree that Josh is hot,” Dahlia smiled. “Gotcha,” she bragged.
Senna ignored Dahlia’s response and put up another finger. “Second, even if he was interested in me, which he isn’t, I’m not interested in him.”
Dahlia blinked like an idiot with her mouth open. “You don’t expect me to believe that, do you? You two were like really, really close.” She nodded her head, knowing that Senna got her implication. “I know y’all messed around… a lot.”
“Ten years ago,” Senna reminded her. “We’ve both changed. We’re grown-ups now.” She raised a third finger. “Third, I think I’m going to try that Truelove.com site. It would be a good way for me to meet more of the singles that live on The Hidden Banks. I’m sure some fresh blood has arrived since we graduated high school.”
“That sounds like a stellar plan. Foolproof,” Dahlia said sarcastically. “I’m rooting for you… all the way.”
Senna took in a slow breath. Something about the way Dahlia said that phrase made Senna question Dahlia’s sincerity and made her a bit nervous.
Dahlia continued, “And just to let you know, the only people who change on this island are the ones who stay for a week and then leave. Everyone else is the same. No exciting single men are waiting to snatch up the island’s female population. Although, I guess… Truelove.com could give you a miracle.”
“I’ve been forewarned. Thank you. I appreciate your support,” she mocked. She knew beyond a shadow of doubt that she did not have Dahlia’s support. At least not the way she hoped.
12
Senna muttered a curse when she pulled into the parking lot on Monday morning and didn’t see her brother’s truck. Instead, a white Nissan Titan with the Sand Castle Design Experts logo on the doors was parked near Reid’s Accounting Firm.
She really shouldn’t be surprised that her brother stood her up. Mark was thoroughly under Dahlia’s spell. Senna knew that she should be happy for Dahlia and her brother, and she was, but she didn’t appreciate Dahlia’s interference in her love life. Josh was a loaded minefield in which every step she took threatened to blow up in her face.
With a heavy ball of apprehension and guilt in her gut, she pulled into a parking space close to Josh. She’d hurt him all those years before. There was no denying that, and it sucked that he was here doing her a favor. All of these accidental run-ins with him were taking a toll on her emotions. She’d already been concerned how Martin would react to the screen. She didn’t need Martin freaking out in front of Josh and humiliating her.
As she eased out of her car, Josh slid out of his truck. He wore a Sand Castle Design Experts polo shirt and a pair of cargo shorts. The way his biceps and broad chest stretched the fabric tight over his body, he could be the centerfold for some ‘manly man’ magazine, like Hunters are Us or Blue Collar Studs.
Dang it! Her heart did that skipping a beat thing while also morphing the guilt into attraction. She was a grown woman who should have better control over her desires. But seeing him did a funny thing to her stomach. She couldn’t help but smile as she met him near his truck.
Oh fudge, was that awkwardness or lust that swirled her up inside?
“It appears that
Mark sent you,” she said and then realized that she didn’t sound very grateful for his help. “Thanks for helping me out. I appreciate it.” She prayed that sounded sincere and masked the awkwardness of having him there. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she slid her hands into her pockets.
“No problem.” He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. “I’m happy to help.” When Mark asked him if he could help Senna, he had mixed emotions. Mark was a friend, and Josh was the type of guy who liked helping others, but then there was the baggage with Senna.
He’d loved her. Truly, madly, deeply, but she’d cut him out as if he’d been a tumor that she’d dug out of her life and tossed away, never to think of again. She may have been glad to be rid of him a decade ago, but it left him with scars. And those scars had ruined what he had with Lia.
He pointed to the screen that stuck out of the window of her car. “What’s this you’re carting around?” He did his best to keep his eyes on her face and not on her curvy form. What would it be like to hold her again? To run his fingers through her silky hair? To cradle her ass in his hands?
“That’s it.” She tossed her thumb in its direction.
Her voice pulled him from his fantasy and deposited him right back in reality.
“Trust me,” she continued. “It was a pain to get the screen into the car.” She and Dahlia had managed to get it into her car Friday night at the store with the help of one of the workers. She’d left it in the car all weekend, tucked away safely in the condo’s parking garage.
“I bet.” Glancing at her, he cocked his head and asked, “That’s what we’re moving?”
She nodded and said, “Yep.” She knew this looked weird. Who takes a giant privacy screen to work?
His face scrunched up in curiosity. “Why do you need a giant Japanese screen for work?” With his job, he was privy to all kinds of things that people had in their houses or in their backyards. Some people were slobs, some were neat freaks to an obsessive degree, and some things he did his best to forget ever seeing, but he couldn’t for the life of him guess why she wanted or needed this monstrosity at work.
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