“Yeah.” She nodded, but her eyes filled with the fear I dreaded seeing in a patient’s eyes.
I walked her out of the inn and wished her well, knowing that Hartwell was a small enough place that if she didn’t keep me in the loop herself, I’d find out anyway.
“You look worried,” Bailey said as I stepped into the dining room, where she had breakfast waiting for me. Morning breakfast was in full swing and the room was noisy with guests.
Patient-doctor confidentiality stopped me from telling her just how worried I was that Anita’s symptoms were a sign of something serious. “It’s just . . . Anita might be my last patient for a while. Maybe ever.”
Bailey’s eyes widened. “Okay, after you eat, you explain.” Her expression told me I had no other choice and I chuckled to myself as she reluctantly moved away to see to one of the guests.
Breakfast helped wake me up a little, although it took me a while to eat because not only did I have that weird, nauseous, empty feeling you get when you haven’t slept much, but I also had pangs of concern for Anita and Archie.
Two hours later I was up in my room trying to figure out where to start first. I had my job to quit, my apartment to give up, a job to find here, and a new place to find to live.
Just as I heard a knock at the door I got a text.
From Cooper.
How are you feeling this morning, Doc?
I smiled and quickly texted back as I wandered over to open my door.
Tired. But last night was worth it.
“Explain,” Bailey said, striding into my room upon my opening the door.
My phone binged.
Glad you think so. I plan to give you more sleepless nights in the future.
I grinned, feeling a surge of tingles between my legs.
My phone binged again.
Believe me. It’ll be more than worth it.
I felt a little breathless just thinking about it.
I have no doubt. Can’t wait, I texted back.
“Would you stop flirting with Cooper and explain what you said,” Bailey said, crossing her arms over her chest in a huff.
“How did you know I was flirting with Cooper?”
“The goofy grin on your face.”
Damn. I blushed. “He is making me act like a teenager.”
“Good.” She grinned and flopped down on her bed. “Feeling like a teenager is good.”
I laughed and sat down next to her. “I feel all light-headed around him.”
“I’ll bet you feel more than light-headed around him. You know, in high school his classmates called him the Panty Melter.”
“They did not.” I guffawed.
Bailey chuckled. “Nope. But if I’d been in his class they would have. When he was a junior I was a lowly freshman. I called him the Panty Melter, but it only caught on with me and my friends.”
“Did you have a crush on him?” I could just imagine Bailey crushing on the older, popular Cooper.
“He was the senior high school quarterback, he had those eyes, and on top of that he’s always been a good guy. Jack Devlin was the same. Every girl I knew, and a few guys, too, had a crush on Cooper and Jack.”
“Does Cooper know this?”
She made a face. “What do you think?”
I laughed, knowing how open she was. “He knows.”
“It was probably the love letter I sent him at the beginning of freshman year. And the flowers and invitation to homecoming in sophomore year. Or the time I got shit-faced at the fun park in my senior year and declared my love for him in front of everyone at the Ferris wheel. He was twenty years old and on a date with Brandi Sommers from New York. Her parents owned a house on the south boardwalk and they visited every summer. She was beautiful and classy, and there was no way I stood a chance with her around.”
I frowned. “What happened?”
“He was worried about me because I was so drunk. He and Brandi took me home.”
“God!” I threw my hands up. “Is he perfect?”
Bailey laughed. “No. He’s just a really good guy.”
“Two questions: when did you get over your crush and what happened to Brandi?”
She gave me a knowing look. “No need to worry. Cooper is more like a brother to me now. I just grew up, I started falling in actual love instead of lust, and over time he became a friend. A good friend. As for Brandi . . . she was Cooper’s summer girl for four years. Until Dana came along.”
“He stopped seeing Brandi for Dana?”
Bailey’s mouth twisted. “Hmm.” Her expression suddenly turned careful when she studied me. “Look, back then I could see it. Dana . . . she was a year younger than me so Cooper didn’t take much notice of her. Also she’d been dating this kid from Dover all through high school. She went to college, dropped out, and came back to Hartwell and she caught Cooper’s attention . . . because . . .” She winced. “As much as I hate to admit this . . . Dana Kellerman is outrageously gorgeous.”
Now it was my turn to wince. “Gorgeous?”
She nodded. “Like, could have been a model.”
“Ouch.”
“Hey, but she’s a bitch,” Bailey hurried to assure me. “Cooper knows that now. I’m just saying, when they were young, I get it . . . he probably got caught up in how beautiful she was and that’s how she managed to tie him down.”
None of that made me feel any better.
I had my insecurities about my physical appearance, like most women, but in general I didn’t have any big complaints. I felt confident I was attractive. But I wasn’t “outrageously gorgeous.”
“Huh.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything. I was just . . . You’re staying now and I wanted to prepare you for meeting Dana. Because that’s inevitable. And I didn’t want you to see her and feel threatened, because you shouldn’t. All that beauty is hiding something ugly. You . . . you’re beautiful all the way through, Jessica. Cooper sees that.”
I heaved a sigh. “You’re sweet. And thanks for the heads-up.” Now, though, I wished I knew what Dana looked like, because she’d turned into Kate Upton in my mind.
“So back to the matter at hand . . . explain what you meant by ‘Anita might be my last patient for a while. Maybe ever.’”
I told her about my decision to take a break from medicine.
Unlike Cooper, who’d wanted all the details behind my decision, Bailey just accepted it. That surprised me, considering how little she accepted Vaughn Tremaine’s “mysterious” decision to stay in Hartwell.
“Okay, so you can of course say no, but how would you feel about working for me while you try to figure out what it is you want in life?” She grinned and nodded excitedly at the idea.
I was surprised by the offer. “Work for you how?”
“Tom is on me about getting someone to help out—to split my responsibilities with. You’d pretty much be doing most of what I do. The pay won’t be what you’re used to, though.” Then she told me how much I’d be making and it was considerably less than my pay at the prison.
“You do realize that I’ve never worked in hospitality before?”
“You’ve been a doctor, Jess, which I’m guessing means you’re hella smart. I’m pretty sure you can handle running an inn.”
I felt a little bubble of excitement at the thought. After all, Bailey loved her work here at the inn. And I did love the inn. Maybe this was what I was looking for. “Okay.” I grinned. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Yay!” Bailey bounced on the bed. “Right. Your vacation ends in a few days, so we’ll start then.”
“Brilliant. Thank you.”
“What are friends for?”
“I’ve got so much to do. I need to quit my job for a start.”
Bailey frowned. “What if they don’t give you a reference for
quitting without notice?”
“They probably won’t give me a reference.” I knew I should be worried about that, considering there was a chance I might need to return to medicine, but I was suddenly terrified of the prospect of returning to Wilmington. If I went back to work out my two weeks’ notice, I knew there was a chance I’d convince myself all over again that my life there was all I deserved. I’d chicken out and I wouldn’t come back to Hartwell.
“Maybe you should go back for a few weeks. I’ll hold your job here.”
I shook my head, adamant. “I can’t go back.”
My friend suddenly took on this fierce expression. “Is something going on that I don’t know about? Are you afraid to go back there?”
Yes. But not for the possible reasons she was conjuring in her head. So I gave her a little truth. “If I go back, I know I might chicken out. If I go back, I might not do it. Quit, I mean. There’s a possibility I’d stay.”
Bailey relaxed. “I get it. I know I’ve been all blasé and excited about you staying, but I realize what a huge decision this is. It’s only natural that there is a part of you questioning if this is a crazy move. So I get it. And I wouldn’t go back, either.”
“Thanks. I feel terrible letting them down at the prison, but I’m not the only doctor working there . . .”
“Sometimes you have to be a little selfish in life.”
Guilt swirled in my belly. “Right.”
“What the hell do you mean you’re not coming back, you quit your job, and you want me to pack up your apartment for you?” Fatima yelled through the phone at me a few hours later.
I’d already called the hiring manager to let him know I was faxing through my resignation. He hadn’t been too pleased, but I tried to ease my guilt by reminding myself that there were two doctors at the prison who could step up while they found a new primary physician. In fact, Dr. Whitaker would probably be gleeful about it.
Still, it didn’t leave me feeling good. I’d never acted irresponsibly in my entire adult life.
“What the hell do you mean?” Fatima repeated at my silence.
I cleared my throat. “I mean that I’m staying in Hartwell.”
“What the hell for?”
“I like it here. I like the people. The lifestyle is very different from what I’ve been used to in Wilmington. I’ve made fast friends here. There’s this crazy lovable inn owner; and Emery the sweet, shy bookstore owner; and this really hot, sexy, nice—so goddamn nice—bar owner. And there’s Old Archie, and Iris and Ira, and Tom, and Vaughn, who is a very interesting character, and I want to meet Cat and Joey and Dahlia and—”
“Jesus, woman, is this place trapped in a time vortex or something? Has three weeks to me been three years to you?”
I laughed, but it came out sounding sad. “You are the one person I am going to miss, Fatima.”
“My God, you are serious, aren’t you?”
“Before I got here, you were trying to tell me something. You were trying to tell me that my life was empty. And it turns out you were right. I can’t do anything about it back in Wilmington. But I think I’ve got a chance of filling my life up with good things here in Hartwell.”
She was quiet a moment as she thought about this. “You’ve got a job at the inn you’re staying at, you say?”
“Yes.”
“Think maybe you can get discounts?”
I smiled and my mood lifted. “Probably.”
“Then I’ll pack up your apartment for you. But this isn’t good-bye, Jess. When I get vacation time I’m coming to see what’s so great about this place that has won you over.”
“That sounds great.”
“Quitting your job and moving to a new town after only three weeks for a hot guy—yeah, I heard that part—you’re a crazy woman. The craziest. How come I never knew how crazy you are? You are a riot. A frickin’ riot . . .”
I let her babble on, laughing to myself the whole time.
I’d surprised her.
But more than that, I’d surprised me.
And it felt good.
“Uh-oh,” Bailey said as soon as I came downstairs to the kitchen.
It was my first time in there, but I figured since I was going to be working there I should get to know the workings of the place.
A curvy woman with black hair stood beside Bailey, staring at me. This was Mona, the chef, and we’d met briefly a few times over the course of the last few weeks. Mona was hard to miss. Every time I’d seen her she’d been wearing a head scarf with a large knot in the top. She wore oversized black-framed glasses and bright red lipstick, and when she wasn’t in her chef’s whites, she wore overalls. She was like a 1940s war propaganda poster for female industrial workers.
And the look worked for her.
Also in the kitchen were Nicky and Chris—her sous chef and junior chef.
“She’s in my kitchen,” Mona said, looking affronted. “There’s a guest in my kitchen.”
“Chill,” Bailey said. “I told you she’s going to be working here.”
“But until then she’s still a guest and she’s in my kitchen.”
I was getting the vibe Mona was a little particular about her kitchen and the rules of her kitchen. “Maybe we should step outside?”
Bailey rolled her eyes but followed me out of the room before speaking any further. “You know, I’m trying to break her of her obsessive rules and regulations. We should have stayed. You’re going to work here now and the staff need to get used to you.”
I stopped at the reception desk where we had some privacy. “That may or may not be a problem. I’m unsure at this point.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been looking at real estate here and, um . . . it’s pretty expensive.”
Bailey made a face. “Seaside town.”
“Right. Well, you’d think as a doctor I’d have put some money away, but the truth is I’m still paying off my student loan debt and, um, that, versus salary here—I’m not sure I can swing it.” It took a battering to my pride to admit that, because for the longest time the most positive thing I could say about myself was that I was a successful career woman. There would be no more nice jewelry or designer handbags for me for a long while.
“Oh.” Bailey’s eyes widened. “Right. I didn’t think of that.”
“I can’t afford the apartments here.” I slumped down into a chair. If I wanted to stay in Hartwell, I would likely have to stick to doctoring after all.
“Maybe not . . .” She suddenly grinned at me. “But it’s not a problem. You could stay with me. I have a pullout.”
“No,” I said, despite feeling grateful for the offer. “I appreciate it, really. But Tom is at your place a lot and it . . . I’m not going to intrude on the two of you like that.”
Bailey sighed heavily. “Okay. Well, I keep a room at the inn open for myself in case I need to crash here. It’s not as big and it doesn’t have a view, but it’s a room with a bathroom, and it’s yours for free if you want it. I’ll show you.”
She led me to the back of the inn, to a modest but pretty room. One window looked out to the garden at the side, and I caught a sliver of the beach and water at the corner. The other window looked out on the parking lot at the back.
But it was free, and it would certainly do until I could come up with something more permanent.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
I hugged her hard, making her stumble back and laugh in surprise. “Thank you.”
Bailey squeezed me tight. She gave good hug. “We’re going to make this work for you, Jess. Just you wait.”
Despite her reassurances, a while later, back in my current room upstairs, I felt more than a little panicked by all the decisions I’d made that day.
I was exhausted from lack of s
leep, so my anxiety was worsened by it, and I guess that was how I sounded when Cooper called me late in the afternoon.
“So Fatima is packing up my apartment for me, and Bailey has given me a job and a room here until I can figure out something else, and the prison isn’t too happy with me, but it’s done, so I guess . . . Oh, and I’ll need to find somewhere to store all my stuff. I hope I can find a cheap storage place and—”
“Doc,” Cooper interrupted, “you sound like you’re freaking out.”
“I’m a little on edge,” I admitted.
“Look, it’s done, it’s scary, and now it’s about living with those decisions. As for storage, I’ve got a big secure shed on the outskirts of town. I used to work on cars there, but I haven’t had the time lately and the place is lying practically empty. You can put all your stuff there.”
“Really?” God, I liked this guy.
“Really. Now get some rest. Things will look better after a little sleep.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“No problem. I’ll see you soon.”
As I hung up and lay down on the bed, all I allowed myself to think about was his voice, his reassurances . . . and just like that I was out like a light.
FIFTEEN
Jessica
I awoke with a start, momentarily disoriented. The room was pitch-black.
To me it felt like it had been daylight only minutes prior.
Sitting up with a groan, still fully dressed, I caught sight of the clock on my bedside table and winced.
It was almost one o’clock in the morning.
Flipping on the lights, I then swung my legs over the bed. I felt weird. One, I was now all over the place with my sleep because I’d slept during the day, and two, my whole body felt hot and needy.
Suddenly I remembered why.
I’d been dreaming.
It had been a good dream.
And Cooper had the starring role.
Thinking of him, I realized Cooper would just be closing up the bar. I wanted to see him. Moreover, I was such an uncertain mess over making the move there that I needed to see him. It scared me to give him this much power, but I knew that if I saw him I would feel better about everything.
The One Real Thing (Hart's Boardwalk) Page 19