Posey laughed, slinging an arm around me. “Just wait. Once you start working at the café, you’ll be busy soon enough.”
“You planning on working me into the ground?”
She tilted her head, her skeptical face looking so much like her mother, it made me want to laugh. “Of course not. But I know you, Iris. You can’t resist working yourself half to death.” She glanced at Libby. “Consider it a Holder family trait.”
Her words sent a little sting through me. I wasn’t sure why—she was obviously joking. But there was something about the way Libby looked at me—was it pity?—that made me feel kind of small.
“Mmm, Mr. Biceps alert,” Libby said suddenly, voice low and excited as she clutched Posey’s arm. “I swear that boy get’s hotter by the day.”
Posey released me so she could turn and see who had Libby all worked up. She snorted. “You’re a little old for him, Lib.”
“I’m thirty-eight!”
“And he’s twenty-nine.”
“I could be a cougar,” Libby murmured, a wicked grin on her face. “I’m sure I have it in me.”
“Who’s enticing you to Cougarville?” I asked, wanting to see the hot guy for myself. Libby was looking directly over my shoulder, and I turned to see, craning my neck a little—and found myself face to face with David.
There was something about the first sight of him that always hit me right in the chest. It had been that way since the day I met him, all those years ago, and the reaction had apparently never changed. The combination of the dark grey eyes, strong jawline, and that always-tousled dark blond hair was enough to send any woman to Cougarville, I was sure. But it was more than that, more than the universal good looks and, frankly, ridiculous body. Something about his eyes, the way they seemed able to peer right into my head while giving away very little as to his own thoughts. I used to stare into his eyes for ages, back when I had the right to do so.
But I lost that right years ago. So instead, I looked away, very quickly, not wanting to see the same look of annoyed indifference that had been there the day before on the docks.
“David,” Posey said, giving a little wave. “Nice night, huh?”
“Hey, Posey.” Man, even his voice was sexy. Only slightly deeper than when we were teenagers, but somehow changed. More manly. I could still hear the way that my name sounded in that voice yesterday, so close to my ear, his arms wrapped tightly around me out on the dock—
Stop it, I thought, angry with myself.
“David,” Libby practically purred, taking his arm. “It’s so nice to see you.”
I expected him to recoil from her obvious flirtation, but he surprised me. His eyes crinkled up a little, his mouth twitching. Holy crap, was he about to smile?
“Nice to see you, too, Libs,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Heard the bit about Cougarville, by the way.”
She threw her head back and laughed, and I envied her lack of embarrassment. I would be blushing as dark as my mulled wine if David overheard me complimenting him. Instead, she patted his arm. “Don’t worry. Cougarville isn’t really my style.”
“My loss.”
Wow. He wasn’t exactly grinning, but still. It was like a completely different person than I had seen yesterday. Maybe he’d had an off day, I thought, watching him. Maybe he hadn’t changed that much since high school, after all.
But then his eyes settled on my face, and all traces of laughter left his. “Iris.”
“David.”
He turned back to Libby and Posey. “Have you eaten?”
Just like that, I was dismissed. So maybe I hadn’t imagined the change. Or maybe the new, scowling David was only for me. Awesome.
“Not yet.” Posey lifted her glass. “Had to take care of the essentials first.”
“We should probably get over there,” Libby said, glancing over her shoulder at the line for the fryer. “There was a lot of gossip in town today about Jerry not catching enough fish. I heard something about him having trouble getting the new chicken settled, or something.”
Across the square, I saw Jerry showing his basket to a pair of teenage girls. He looked inordinately pleased with himself.
When I turned back, David was shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. I brought in a good haul myself. There should be plenty.”
“See?” Libby said, leaning in a little closer. “A provider, and he’s gorgeous. Who wouldn’t turn cougar for this guy?”
He removed her hand from his arm, patting the top of her head. “It’s not fair to tease an impressionable young man like that, Libby.” He nodded at Posey. “I should go make sure the tables are well stocked. See you guys later.” His eyes flicked to mine, and his chin came down in a passable imitation of a nod. Then he turned and was gone.
I kind of wanted to slap him.
Libby watched him go, an appreciative look on her face. “I’ll never get sick of that view.”
Whatever. He might look awfully good in those jeans, but it wasn’t even worth looking when he was that much of a jerk. Libby was welcome to him.
She turned to me, eyes wide. “So. What’d you do to him?”
“What?”
“Come on, Iris. There’s obviously something there. Didn’t you see how he was looking at you?”
I scowled. “Like I was a bug under his shoe?”
Her expression turned confused. “A bug? Hardly. No one looks at a bug with that much passion.”
“Passion? Are you crazy?”
She shrugged. “There was something in that look. Granted, it wasn’t very friendly. But it was pretty intense. Way too intense for a bug, that’s for sure.”
I turned to Posey for support, but she was watching David go, a thoughtful look on her face. “It was a pretty intense look. Noticed it the other day at the café, too.”
“You’re both nuts.”
Libby looked disappointed. “So there’s no story there?”
“Oh, there’s a story,” Posey said. “Iris totally broke his heart when we were teenagers.”
“I did not!” I cried, loud enough that several people turned to look. “I did not,” I repeated, quieter this time.
Posey rolled her eyes at Libby, who was looking like Christmas had come early. “She totally did.”
“You guys were a thing?” Libby asked.
“For like, two minutes,” I said.
“It was longer than two minutes,” Posey said. When I started to argue, she turned slightly so she was facing Libby, partially blocking me. “They became really good friends when Iris first moved here back in high school. They were pretty much inseparable from the get-go.”
“We were not!”
But Posey just kept talking like I wasn’t even there. “Started dating about two seconds later. They were crazy about each other, it was very intense.”
Libby nodded. “Sixteen and in love. I remember those days.”
“We weren’t in love!”
“But then Iris moved back to the mainland to live with her dad. And broke poor David’s heart.”
Since they both seemed determined to ignore me, I wedged myself against Posey’s side. “I did not break his heart. We went on, like, two dates. It was not a big deal.”
Posey rolled her eyes. “Denial,” she told Libby wisely.
“Well.” Libby turned to watch David, who was helping Cora refill her massive cooking pots with the biggest jug of wine I’d ever seen. Mr. Biceps, indeed. “That explains the look.”
“There was no look,” I cried, not caring this time that I was attracting attention. “David Jenkins feels nothing for me. And he clearly didn’t feel that much in high school or he wouldn’t have been so happy to see me go.”
“Happy?” Posey cried, matching my volume. “You’re kidding, right?” When I crossed my arms, holding her gaze, she shook her head at me. “You weren’t here, Iris. I can guarantee you, he wasn’t happy.”
I looked away, feeling strangely emotional. I didn’t want to think about those d
ays. About the few, mad months of loving David the way only a teenage girl could. About the fight that had happened right before I left. Of the look on his face when I walked away. Like he was disappointed in me. Tired of me. Like he didn’t really know me, after all.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Libby said quickly, seeming to sense my mood. “We all make mistakes when we’re teenagers. It’s kind of the point of being a teenager, right?” She shook her head, a faraway look coming over her face. “You should have seen my high school boyfriend.” She smiled wistfully. “Donovan Tucker.”
Posey choked on her wine. “Donovan Tucker? As in the principal at the Island School? As in my boss?”
Libby nodded, grinning from ear to ear.
“Donovan Tucker who wears tweed blazers and turtlenecks every day? That Donovan Tucker?”
“He didn’t wear tweed blazers in those days,” Libby said, grinning wickedly. “He wore a leather jacket and played guitar. He was gorgeous. He had a nose ring.”
Now it was Posey’s turn to look like Christmas had come early. “Tell me you have photos. Photos I can reproduce for the teachers’ lounge. Please, Libby.”
I allowed their conversation to flow over me as I battled memories of a teenage David Jenkins. There was no way that Posey had any idea what she was talking about. David might have liked me for a while, but when it came right down to it, I wasn’t what he wanted.
The girls were moving over to the line at the fryer, and I followed, not really paying attention, thinking instead about the last time David and I had spoken, when he’d made it perfectly clear that I had turned out to be a major disappointment to him. I glanced around the square, feeling suddenly angry. All of these people in their picture-perfect little town with their quaint little lives. I would never be a part of it, never really belong here. And that had been enough to make David wash his hands of me entirely.
I caught sight of him across the square. He was standing at a table filled with baked goods, two older women talking to him, their hands waving around animatedly. They appeared to be plying him with extra slices of pie. I scowled. Of course. From Posey to Libby to those old ladies, everyone here clearly loved David Jenkins.
He looked up as I passed, his eyes barely meeting mine before glancing back at the white-haired woman next to him, who was now pressing a kiss to the back of his hand.
Well, there was one person on this island who wasn’t crazy about David. If I could get through the rest of my time here without having to talk to him again, I would consider it a success. And I was more than willing to do whatever it took to make sure I could avoid him.
Chapter 5
If Monday morning was any indication, my time on Lilac Bay was not going to go as well as I hoped.
I had told Posey I would be at the café by eight so she could introduce me to the staff before heading off to school. I woke up late, groggy after another night of dreams involving falling and murky water. I might have been okay, even managing a quick shower, if it hadn’t been for the phone call.
I had been careful about screening my calls since leaving Chicago, but I was in a hurry, and thinking it was probably Posey, I clicked on the answer icon without looking at the screen.
“Iris?”
I froze in the act of slipping into my wedge heels. Shit.
“Uh, hi, Dad. How are you? I, uh, thought you were in Europe.”
“How am I?” my father thundered. “How do you think? You haven’t been answering any of my emails or texts. And now I’m hearing from everyone in Chicago about some colossal screw up.” I winced. “But I haven’t heard a word from you about it. What in the hell is going on, Iris?”
“Dad, I know we need to talk. But I’m running late and—”
“Are you working?” he asked, sounding a touch less upset.
“Uh…not really. I mean, kind of…”
“Iris.” I had heard that warning note in his voice before. It was usually aimed at incompetent business associates, but it had been lobbed my way more than once over the years. A quick glance at the clock told me I was most definitely going to be late, but there was nothing to be done. I had no power to deflect my father, not right now. He had called me from Europe, for God’s sake. My father was the king of the text message or email and loathed talking on the phone. But apparently, my behavior had warranted an exception.
“Give me one second, Dad.” I pulled the phone away from my ear and pressed the home screen so I could send a quick text to Posey explaining my lateness. Then I took a deep breath. “Sorry, Dad. Back now.”
“Iris, what is going on?” He sounded entirely out of patience. “Where are you?”
Oh God. I had been hoping that we could avoid the subject of my location until at least after I’d broken the news about work. “I’m actually visiting Mimi Rose.”
“You’re on the island?”
“Um, yeah. Just for a while.”
“What about your job?”
I swallowed several times, trying to build up the courage to just tell him. Turned out my silence was enough.
“Oh Jesus,” he said. “They fired you?”
I nodded before I remembered that he couldn’t see me. “Yeah. It, uh, was a pretty bad screw up.” What had his sources been telling him? “Colossal.”
It was his turn to be silent, for much longer than I would have thought possible. When he finally spoke, the anger in his voice sent a chill through me. “I need to make some calls.”
“No, Dad!” I yelped. The last thing in the world I needed right then was for my father to start calling his contacts to try to get me my job back. Like I wasn’t embarrassed enough about the entire mess.
“Iris—”
“Listen, Dad. I deserved it, okay? I really screwed up. It would have been bad business for them not to fire me.” I tried and failed not to think about the words I had heard screamed from my boss’s office while I waited in the hall. The client had been furious. So what choice did my bosses have? That client was worth millions.
“They could have at least called me,” he grumbled, still pissed. My stomach dropped. Would he always think of me this way—as an extension of his own reputation? Like any mutual business contacts needed to consider their relationship with him before forming an opinion on me. Would I ever get the chance to stand—whether in success or failure—on my own two feet?
“Dad, it’s fine, okay? I’m just going to take a little time and then—”
“Back up,” he growled. “Why in the hell aren’t you in Chicago working your contacts? Did you say that you’re on the island?”
I closed my eyes, leaning against the door. “I just needed to get away.”
“And that’s the place you chose?” His incredulity dripped through his voice. My father knew, better than anyone, how I felt about the island.
“I wanted to see Posey. And Mimi Rose.” If he thought it odd that I didn’t add my mother to that list, he didn’t mention it. I suppose he knew about my feelings for her better than anyone else.
“I really think this was a bad time to just leave,” he said. “Iris, these things happen. We all make mistakes.” I shook my head at the empty hall. I was pretty sure my father had never made a mistake in his life. Not when it came to business. Not one that cost a client millions. “But you don’t just run away. You stick it out. You make your next move.”
I felt a sick swell of shame spiral through me. You don’t just run away. That’s what I had done, no other way to put it. Things had gotten bad and I ran, too embarrassed and ashamed to fight.
“I know, Dad. And I will. I swear I will. I just… I needed some time. I haven’t had a vacation in ages and—”
His snort of derision cut me off. “You consider an attic room in that old house a vacation? Christ, Iris. You could have gone to Oasis if you needed a break.”
Of course, at Oasis, I would have been surrounded by business contacts pretending for their families’ sakes that they were getting away, as well. The resort in Cabo was one
of my father’s greatest accomplishments. I’d been three times, always coming away with more work than when I left. The very thought was exhausting.
“I wanted to see Posey,” I said softly. “It’s been months. And you know Pops is still recovering.” I felt another shot of guilt using my grandfather as an excuse. I hadn’t even visited after the stroke, not coming to see him until I was in crisis myself. Some granddaughter.
My mention of Pops seemed to have the effect of softening my dad’s attack. He sighed. “I guess it could be a good place for you. Short term, of course.”
“Of course.” I breathed a sigh of relief, not quite believing that I was getting off this easy. I had half expected him to have a hired car outside the house by the afternoon, ban on motor vehicles or not.
“How short term?” he asked, an impatient note back in his voice. So much for getting off easy.
“I’m really not sure, Dad. I’m just…taking it a day at a time.”
He was quiet for a beat. “I don’t like this, Iris. You sound… I’m worried about you.”
My eyes flew open at that. He sounded almost…paternal. My dad and I didn’t really do the whole lovey-dovey family bit. I mean, we were close. We had always been close. We’d been working together since I graduated college. I spent more time with him than anyone else. And it wasn’t just a proximity thing—we got each other. We were the same, my dad and I. That fire to succeed, that all-consuming desire to constantly move forward, move up. I was pretty sure he understood me better than anyone else.
So why was I so sure, deep in my bones sure, that he wouldn’t understand this? Somehow, I knew that if I tried to explain to him how scared I was to come home, how exhausted I felt at the mere thought of looking for a new job, that there was no way he would get it.
“You don’t need to be worried,” I told him, my voice as bright as I could make it. “I’m going to spend some time relaxing and seeing the family. I told Mimi I would help out at the café a little, see if I can’t streamline some of their processes.”
He chuckled at that, and I knew I’d won the battle, if not the ultimate war. “Well, that sounds like my girl,” he said. “You just can’t resist whipping it into shape, can you?”
Where Your Heart Is (Lilac Bay Book 1) Page 6