by Drea Stein
But then, how could she have any idea where he lived? And she did finally let herself into her own apartment. With a key. But dressed like that, she looked like she was dressed for something…like a date. The thought bothered him, and then he remembered with a half-smile that if she’d come home alone, it couldn’t have been much of a date.
He decided not to dwell on that, but instead look ahead. Tomorrow was the first day of the rest of his future, and he needed to be prepared for that. He didn’t have time to worry about Lynn and the clinic. Besides, that decision was already made. If they didn’t have the money for the new lease, that was their problem.
Chapter 12
“You mean to tell me you fell into his door?” Tory asked, putting a chunk of blueberry muffin into her mouth. Lynn watched fascinated. Tory seemed able to eat an ungodly amount of carbs and still stay in good shape. Must be genetics, Lynn thought, but her doctor’s training knew that wasn’t simply the case. Tory loved to run and had already finished two half-marathons this year.
They were sitting at The Golden Pear Café. Lynn had decided to come in for granola and coffee and had bumped into Tory. The café, with its clean nautical theme, punctuated by white bead board walls, topped by blue paint and black and white pictures of sailboats, was a popular destination for breakfast and lunch. It always smelled heavenly, like a mixture of chocolate, cinnamon, and vanilla; and right now, most of the small round tables were occupied as moms met for coffee, retirees complained about the local news, and Tory and Lynn chatted.
“Pretty much.” Lynn shook her head. “It was another disaster.”
“And he thought you were there to…”
“Use my feminine wiles to get him to not close the clinic.”
“You were dressed to kill, so yeah I guess if I was the typical red-blooded guy and some girl like you knocked on my door in the middle of the night I might have thought just about every one of my fantasies had come true. Next time, try wearing your white doctor’s coat with nothing on underneath—that might work better.”
“Tory!” Lynn said shaking her head. “That’s not what I had in mind.”
“Sure, of course you didn’t,” Tory said, her voice brimming with false sincerity.
Darby Callahan, the owner of the café, came up to them, her pregnant stomach leading the way. She held up a carafe of coffee and asked, “Can I get you guys anything else?”
“She needs another shot,” Tory said. “And I’ll take a box of chocolate chip cookies for the office.”
“Long night, making rounds?” Darby asked as she poured their coffee.
“Bad date,” Tory answered for Lynn.
“Oh,” Darby winced in sympathy. “I don’t mind missing out on those.” Darby was married to Sean Callahan, the chef at the Osprey Arms. Together they were working on expanding The Golden Pear into another location, and had opened another high-end restaurant. All while Darby was due with their first child.
Lynn waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah, all you happily married people just rub it in our faces.”
Darby laughed and rubbed her stomach. Her face winced, and seeing it Lynn stopped and asked, “How are you feeling? Are you sure you should be on your feet?”
Darby laughed. “My doctor says I’m fine. Sure glad the heat of the summer is over. Only a few more weeks to go. Can’t wait to meet the little bean.” She touched her stomach again and waddled gracefully to the counter to box up the cookies Tory had ordered.
Lynn smiled. Darby and Sean hadn’t wanted to know whether they were having a boy or girl, and now most of Queensbay was locked in a fierce betting pool over it. Odds were split evenly, but Lynn knew Darby was convinced she was having a boy.
“Is it me, or does it seem like everyone is coupling up?” Lynn leaned back and looked out the window with a sigh. She’d looked out the window, noting that the leaves on some of the trees were just starting to change from their summer green to their autumnal shades of dusky yellow and burnt orange.
She’d been in Queensbay for a while now, and with the passing of each season she found something more to love. In the summer it was all about being outside, hitting the water, grilling. Winter was about settling in, keeping the wild winter storms at bay. Spring of course, was about the promise of warmer days, watching the harbor come to life around you. Autumn meant festivals and snuggling in, decorating pumpkins, and asking kids what they wanted to be for Halloween. She loved it all.
“Nope, it’s not your imagination.” Tory said. “Half the guys on the softball team are all shacked up and head home to their honeys. I thought it would be a great way to find a boyfriend, but so far, no luck. Seems like it’s harder and harder to find a good man around here.”
Lynn’s face twisted in a frown as her mind turned to Jackson Sanders. He was not a good man. First he’d been rude, then he’d been arrogant, and then, most likely, he’d been laughing at her. Her last encounter with him had been the icing on the cake. Or rather the straw that broke the camel’s back. Not to mention that he was probably still mourning a dead fiancée. Maybe that was why he had come back to Queensbay, to be closer to her in spirit. The thought turned her melancholy.
“I guess we could swear off men forever?” Lynn suggested, hopeful. After all, it wouldn’t be so hard; it would almost be like making it official, her current state of aloneness.
Tory looked at her as if she had another head growing out of her shoulders.
“Uh-uh and no way…I am still on the hunt, even if you seem intent on staying out of the game. Man, you must have really been burned. I saw you dump the numbers those guys gave you last night. What about Nate? Are you going to give him a second chance? Maybe he’ll grow on you?”
“I don’t think so,” Lynn had already had two texts from Nate, seeing if she was around anytime soon. She had claimed a busy work schedule and hoped that would be enough for him to get the picture, without having to actually tell him she wasn’t interested.
Still, what Tory had said stung a little, and she felt the need to defend herself.
“It’s not that I was burned,” she said, but stopped herself. “I mean not that badly.”
“What happened?”
“Well, it wasn’t so much that it was anything in particular. It was sort of a series of events, and I just decided I might be better off, you know, taking a break.”
“Who were they?”
“Well there was Ben, who was trying to get over his ex-girlfriend. And there was Joe, who had mother issues, and there was Ryan, I think was gay and trying to use me to persuade his grandmother otherwise. And there was Grant.”
“What did he want?”
“To play doctor with me.” Lynn shuddered at the memory. “You’d be surprised how many guys have wanted to do that.”
“No, not really. But let me guess. Ben got back together with his girlfriend, Joe still lives with his mom, Ryan’s grandmother died and he didn’t have to pretend anymore, and Grant plays footsie with a hot nurse.”
“How do you do that?” Lynn shook her head. “I have what my mom calls a ‘fix-it’ complex.”
Tory nodded. “Oh, you mean the kind where you date guys who have something wrong with them and you think you can fix them, and then you’re terribly surprised when they don’t want to change.”
“Yes. Why, do you have it?”
Tory shook her head. “Nah, I go in with low expectations.”
“What?” Lynn said, shocked.
“Except, you know, in bed.”
“You mean you go out with guys not expecting it to go anywhere?”
“Well, it doesn’t mean I jump into bed on the first date, or with every guy I meet, but I figure the chance of, you know, any guy I meet being the one is statistically impossible, even if, you know, there is the one, which again is highly improbable. So I just look to enjoy myself.”
“But to just give up on everything else?”
“I’m not giving up, if it happens, great; if not, well then everything is a lot le
ss complicated. And I’m happier.”
Lynn said nothing, thinking over this.
Tory’s eyes narrowed as she pursed her lips. “Out of curiosity, just how long has it been since you’ve, you know, gotten some action?”
Lynn paled. “Grant was the first year of my residency.”
“Whoa!” Tory slumped back in her chair and looked at Lynn with disbelief. “That would be like what, months? Years?”
“Years,” Lynn admitted morosely.
Tory shook her head. “Well, there’s your problem. Maybe instead of looking for romance under the full moon, or a guy with issues, you should just go for the great sex. After all, you have to start somewhere.”
“I think after last night’s disaster of a date, I’d be better off being alone,” Lynn said, but her insides sank at the prospect. Unfortunately, now that her hormones at least entertained the idea of getting lucky, it would be pretty hard to shut them off.
Tory shook her head in disagreement. “Oh no, you don’t get to give up that easy. I think there’s hope for you. Besides, work is getting predictable. I need a new project.”
“I am not a project,” Lynn huffed.
“Nope. you’re not. You’re great the way you are. But getting you laid is one.”
Lynn shook her head, and Tory laughed. “Don’t worry. Next time we’ll do a double date. This way when one of them starts reciting the kings of England or something like that we can figure out an escape plan.”
“It’s a deal,” Lynn said after only a moment’s hesitation. Tory insisted on shaking on it and Lynn wondered just what she had gotten herself into.
Chapter 13
Lynn flipped over the chart, and then stacked it at the nurse’s station. It was almost lunchtime, she thought, checking her watch, though there was no need for that since her stomach growled as well, clearly telling her it was time for a sandwich. She usually brought her lunch but today she hadn’t planned that far ahead. Luckily, it was a nice day out, the patient load was manageable, and there should be more than enough time for her to run out and grab something.
She pulled on her cozy fleece and was out the door, debating whether or not she should take her car in order to save time or walk into town for the fresh air and exercise. Fresh air and exercise were about to win out when out of the corner of her eye she saw the side door of the building swing open and a familiar figure step out.
“I need to speak you,” she said, going right up to Jackson. He was dressed again in a suit, and Lynn wondered if he ever took it off. Everything about him screamed expensive, from the crisp white French cuffs that shot through the dark charcoal pinstripe jacket to the discrete yet elegant print on his tie. His blond hair was neatly combed in place and his blue eyes were their usual icy blue.
He carried a simple leather suitcase, and if he seemed embarrassed to see her, he hid it well. Remembering that he had been the one who’d made an ass of himself, and that she was clearly the wronged party, helped her maintain her sense of outrage.
“You?” It wasn’t exactly a question, more an intonation of mild surprise.
“Yes, me. I work here, remember?”
“Of course.” Jackson shifted from one foot to another and actually checked his watch.
“Am I keeping you from something?” she asked in what she hoped was a sardonic tone. How dare he try to blow her off?
“In fact, I do have an appointment.”
“Of course,” Lynn said, and Jackson started to walk. She decided to follow. Time was, after all, of the essence. “Then I’ll be brief.”
A sound which may have been a stifled laugh came from him. Determined, she ignored it. There was a lot more at stake here than her wounded pride. She just needed to remember that she was a grownup too, a smart, savvy career woman.
“Did you know that last year the clinic saw over two thousand patients and prevented about five hundred unnecessary trips to the emergency room? As you might imagine, a trip to the emergency room is quite costly, but a lot of people without access to a regular doctor head there first. However, a place like the clinic you’re going to shut down offers affordable medical care for those without a regular doctor and also cuts down on those emergency room visits, thereby saving everyone time and money.”
Lynn glanced back at Jackson. She had decided that turning her case into a numbers game would be the right way to go. After all, if he was all business then he might be persuaded more by hard facts and statistics than an impassioned plea. His face was set, unreadable, but she saw him working his jaw.
She was walking as quickly as she could but his long legs were eating up the distance to the small parking lot where his car must be parked. Still, she managed to throw in a few more selling points about the importance of the clinic to the town. Unfortunately, all too soon they were at a car. It was a sedan, not a sports car, like she had expected, but a luxury model nonetheless. Next to it, her well-worn Subaru with its roof racks looked like the vehicle of a modern-day hippie. She made a mental note, telling herself that it might be time to take off some of the bumper stickers on her car.
“Well then, Miss Masters…”
“Technically, it’s Doctor,” Lynn corrected him. Usually she didn’t care about a thing like titles. Half the time her patients assumed she was a candy striper, since she had what most of them nicely called a baby face. But with Jackson, she had a feeling that titles mattered.
“Well then, Doctor. I am sorry to say that this is really a straightforward business deal. Mr. Petersen has to sell the building to handle some cash flow issues. I am sure you can find another location.”
“Not for what we pay in rent! Not to mention the location is ideal,” Lynn burst out as Jackson reached for the handle of his car door.
They were almost toe to toe, and Lynn realized that Jackson, despite the fact that she had never seen him with a real smile, was handsome, if you went for the perfect hair, the white teeth, straight nose, and sculpted cheekbones type of thing. Lynn usually didn’t she told herself, but right now, standing this close to him, she was starting to forget the reasons why she liked her men a little rougher around the edges.
They both reached for the door at the same time, Lynn to stop him from going, he to open it. She realized what she was doing and pulled back, her hand brushing against his arm. No, it wasn’t quite a spark, she thought. More like a chill. Yes. Definitely a chill, she thought, looking into his frosty eyes. It couldn’t possibly be her hormones talking. Jackson Sanders was so definitely not her type. And shouldn’t be her type. From what Tory had told her, he had some serious issues, the kind that probably couldn’t be fixed easily. And she was not supposed to be in the doctor mode where her love—make that her sex—life was concerned.
“And that is exactly the problem. Petersen was too soft, never raising the rents. On most of his properties. And now he’s paying the price. Look, I don’t make the rules.”
“You just break them,” Lynn said, wondering how she had, even for a moment, thought that Jackson was the least bit attractive.
“No, actually I like to think I play by them. It’s a game you see. And I play to win.”
“Good luck with that, especially seeing as how when you win just about everyone else loses.” Lynn knew she sounded like a kid in the midst of a temper tantrum.
“Always a pleasure,” Jackson said, wrenching the door open, the expression on his face showing it was anything but.
Chapter 14
Jackson’s appointment could wait. In truth, he was interviewing a graphic designer and she had suggested lunch. He wondered if she asked for a lunch meeting with all of her potential clients or if it was something she only did with unattached male ones.
He shook his head as he drove. He needed to stop being so cynical about people’s motives. It was a business lunch, a chance to get out and meet people. Standard operating procedure in the professional world. When had he become so jaded? He almost laughed at that. The answer was right there. It had been Ashley’
s death that had made him realize there were no happy endings.
His car seemed to have a mind of its own as it took him to the spot. He could have turned around, deliberately gone the other way, but he didn’t, letting the car drive almost automatically to the faintly marked turnoff.
He turned the car into the small clearing and stopped. Ahead of him lay a rough path, almost too narrow to be called a road. If he had a 4x4 or a truck, he would have plowed through, but it wasn’t worth the risk of getting stuck in his sedan.
He got out, shut the door, and was amazed by the quiet. Or as quiet as it could be with the sound of birdsong, the wind whispering in the trees, and the distant but steady beat of the breakers against the rocks.
It was overgrown, but you could clearly see the imprint of the path that wound its way under the canopy of trees and bushes. There was an empty beer bottle tossed to the side, along with a shoe, just one. Evidence that some people still knew about it.
He took a deep breath, wondering why he had come. To say goodbye? Or to say hello. He supposed most people would have gone to her grave to do that, but here he was, at Deadman’s Bend—his and Ashley’s own private version of Lover’s Lane.
Carefully, he pushed aside a prickly bramble and continued along. The tall grass was matted down, but not worn bare. The trail was lightly used, he supposed, which was just as it should be. Who knew what stories the kids of Queensbay had spun about this place after Ashley had died?
Sunlight dappled through the branches and lit the way. Already he could see a round circle of blue ahead of him. He walked straight on until the tunnel of woods opened up and he stood on a bluff, high above the Sound. He could see far to the east from here, almost out to the ocean and across all the way to Long Island. It was a clear, brilliant fall day, the sun warm on his face.
Much like the last time he had been here. Ashley had asked him to meet her. It was the weekend, and he was home from his job in the city, staying with his brother. She was home too, of course, since she had gotten a position coaching at the junior high. He should have been suspicious, wondering why she was free on a fall weekend afternoon when she should have been at a game.