by Jenny Hale
Luke stood up, a line forming between his eyes as he rooted around in his pockets. He peered down under the barstool before looking up at her with mortification consuming his face. “I don’t have my wallet.”
“What?” she said over her menu.
“Let me just run out to the truck. Be right back.”
She ordered two burgers to go, as she waited for Luke to return. She’d actually enjoyed herself today with Luke, and she couldn’t wait to get back to tell Olivia all about it. She’d never believe that Callie had ended up having lunch with the guy from the cover of Outer Banks Sports Magazine.
Luke came jogging back over, looking uncertain.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“My wallet isn’t in the truck. I just called the surfboard shop—I left it there when that reporter came in and distracted me.”
“Thank God. At least it isn’t lost,” she said with relief.
“Well, yes, but I can’t pay for our lunch.”
“Oh!” she laughed. “No worries.” Callie reached into her handbag for her wallet as she peered down at the total. “Will you just add this to my bill for the ‘to go’ order?” she told the bartender as she handed him her credit card.
“I’m so sorry. I feel terrible.”
“Don’t feel bad,” she said.
“I do! I asked you to lunch and then made you pay. This might be an all-time low here for dates.”
“It’s not a date,” she said quickly.
He regarded her curiously. “Let me make it up to you. I’ll take you out again. A do-over.”
A little hum of excitement rang in her ears. “You don’t have to do that.” The bartender brought her the bill and she wrote in the tip and signed her name.
“Let me.”
Callie had a lot of work to complete on the house. She couldn’t just leave Olivia to do it all. And they were already pressed for time, trying to get The Beachcomber open by the autumn. She really didn’t need this kind of distraction.
“You can’t let me leave you on this note. Please allow me to redeem myself.” He was grinning at her in that way of his that made her heart patter.
She swallowed and cleared her throat, inwardly scolding herself for what she was about to say. She’d sworn off dating. She was too busy. “Okay.”
His grin widened. “Fantastic. How about tomorrow night?" He pulled his phone from his pocket. “Let me get your address and your cell number. You’re at… The Beachcomber?”
She gave him her contact information, and he typed it into his phone.
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“You really don’t have to go to all that trouble. I can just meet you somewhere.”
“It’s fine,” he said, as if picking up a girl he’d only just met was something he did every day. But maybe he did. He grabbed her “to go” boxes. “I’ll take you back to your car,” he said as he led her toward the door.
Three
“There’s some extra wood paneling stacked in the closet of one of the upstairs bedrooms,” Olivia said, clapping the dust off her hands as Callie came in through the front door with the boxes of burgers and the T-shirt draped over her arm.
Callie lumped the T-shirt on the side table and went into the kitchen to put the food in the cooler they were using until the new refrigerator was delivered.
“Would you help me pull it all out tomorrow so we can take it to the dump?”
“Yes,” Callie said, her mind still on Luke. She walked back into the family room where Olivia was wiping down the etched glass globes from the new chandelier they were putting up in the dining area.
“You okay?” Olivia said, stopping to look at her. “What took you so long?”
“I went out to lunch,” she said. “I didn’t have time to get into it on my text to you—everything went so fast and there was a lady in the restroom rushing me…”
Excitement swelled in Olivia’s face and she set the globe down next to the T-shirt on the only small table in the room. The rest of the furniture hadn’t been delivered. “I know that look. You’re all rosy-cheeked and flustered,” she said. She cocked her head to the side and studied her friend.
“I went to lunch with someone. You’ll never guess with whom,” Callie said, the sound of it still surreal as she rolled the name over in her mind. She and Olivia had shared many conversations like this over the years as they’d grown up, but never had she had an answer like this one.
“Who?”
“Luke Sullivan.” She said the name slowly for emphasis.
Olivia’s mouth dropped open and she covered it with her white paint-splattered hands, the dust rag still entwined in her fingers, before running across the room and snagging a newspaper that they’d been using to protect the hardwoods from falling paint. “This guy?” She pointed to a photo of him, wearing swim trunks and no shirt, standing next to a bikini-clad model of a girl, aboard an enormous luxury boat.
Callie nodded. “He got me this.” She grabbed the T-shirt and held it out to Olivia. They traded the paper and the shirt, Callie studying the photo of Luke and trying not to stare at his perfectly shaped chest as Olivia frowned, attempting to make sense of what was in her hands.
The subtitle of the article read:
Luke Sullivan to take over Sullivan Enterprises. What could this mean for the Outer Banks’s largest real estate company?
With the shirt still in her hands, Olivia pulled the two beach chairs they’d been using for makeshift seating over, setting them up in the center of the nearly empty room—their usual spot for meals. Once the shock had left Olivia’s face, she set the shirt in her lap and pulled her hair out of the rubber band, shaking it free, her long, red ringlets falling across her thin shoulders. “How did you manage to go on a date with Luke Sullivan when you were just running out to get sandwiches?”
Callie was struggling to answer her friend; she was too busy scanning the article.
Luke Sullivan, local playboy slated to take over… Father and founder of Sullivan empire Edward Sullivan having second thoughts about retirement… speculation regarding the motivations of his son Luke. Does he have the drive to take on a company of this magnitude?
Playboy? she thought, confused. What had all that family talk been about then? Had he been just saying things to make conversation? Or had he been saying what he thought she might want to hear?
“Hello-o?” Olivia smacked her leg playfully from her perch on the floor.
“Sorry.” Callie folded the paper and set it on the floor, dropping down into the chair next to Olivia. She only noticed then that Olivia had picked up a few magazines from the stack of mail they’d been gathering on the side table and set them in her lap. They stayed closed as Callie started to tell her the story. The more detail she gave, however, the more unreal it all sounded, and, after seeing the article, she wondered about Luke’s motivations. “He wants to take me out again tomorrow at seven.” She looked back over at the paper, staring at the woman in the bikini until the picture blurred in front of her.
Wyatt came in and sat down beside them, having heard some of the story. “Are you nervous?” he asked.
Callie smiled.
“I’m nervous about starting third grade here. I don’t know anybody,” he admitted, picking at the edge of his flip-flop. “I’d be glad if I met someone.”
His candor warmed Callie’s heart. She wanted to tell him that Luke wasn’t someone she thought could be her new friend. She let her eyes fall onto the photo of him in the paper again, suddenly wondering why she was even wasting her time having dinner with someone when she should be spending that hour or two on The Beachcomber. But she’d committed.
“I know you haven’t had a chance to meet any kids yet, but there’s a whole class of them waiting. You only have a few weeks left!” She raised her eyebrows and stretched her face into an excited smile for his benefit. Truthfully, she and Olivia both wished he’d had other kids around during the summer, but he’d been a great sport
through all this, and she assured Olivia that, in time, he’d find his place.
Olivia had tried very hard to entertain him. She’d had kitchen dance parties, she’d made an entire ice cream bar with twenty different toppings, and she’d even had a tie-dye day, where they dyed shirts. When she’d come downstairs the day after that, she’d dyed her hair blue to match her shirt. It washed out, but the whole time, Wyatt had thought she’d used the clothing dye. She didn’t tell him until the very end. He came in with blue stripes in his hair later that morning.
“Have you had a chance to try out your new fishing gear today?” Callie asked. Wyatt had been trying to catch fish since they’d gotten there, but sea fishing was quite different to the freshwater fishing he did back home, and he hadn’t caught anything yet.
“No, but I want to! Maybe I’ll get lucky and catch something! The guy at the shop says fishing and waiting are basically the same thing, but you never know!” he said with pride. Olivia had spent more money than she’d admitted to Callie on fishing gear for Wyatt. She’d gotten him a surf rod with a saltwater spinning reel, circle hooks, a sand spike, and a lesson in surf fishing at the local bait and tackle shop.
“Maybe you could set it up and show me and your mom what you learned in your lesson.” She looked over at Olivia and, in that unspoken language they’d used since they were kids, she told her that the house could wait just a little while. Olivia smiled and took in a heavy breath.
Over the years, Callie had witnessed how hard it had been for Olivia as a single mom, and she knew the internal struggle Olivia was having over being a great mom and still taking risks that could give him a different life.
“Okay!” Wyatt said excitedly, jumping up and down. “Let me set it up. I know how! Then I’ll come get you when I’m done.” He ran down to get his supplies.
While Wyatt was off gathering what he needed, Olivia had opened one of the magazines. “Did you see this article?” She flipped the magazine around, the pages rolled back so that the piece about the Sullivans was in view.
Callie took it from her. The Sullivans, with their many companies, had wealth so abundant that they rarely mixed with the residents and tourists there in Waves. The article claimed they’d lost touch with the locals. Luke was having lavish parties, sailing around with countless different women in luxury boats while the town was known for its eclectic, bohemian beach vibe. The other Sullivans hardly spent any time in North Carolina anymore—Edward spent most of his time in New York; Lillian Sullivan, Luke’s mother, who had raised Luke and his sister alone after her divorce from Edward, had left for Florida as soon as her children were out of college. Luke’s sister Juliette had chased a fashion design career in New York. So the local press had converged on Luke, and his rise in popularity in the press had caused increased interest in the small village. She read on.
Callie wanted to believe that Luke was as kind as he’d been at lunch but she couldn’t clear her mind of the headlines she’d read about his womanizing ways. He’d dated some big movie actress recently, the village in a frenzy as they were spotted out on the waters on his boat. The long-time residents were tiring of the paparazzi that followed her to their town.
“It was really nice of him to take you out,” Olivia said as Wyatt called them outside through the open porch window. He was heading to the beach with his two fishing rods in their holders.
Callie slipped her hands into the pockets of her shorts. Although stained with paint from painting the mailbox the other day, they were at least clean, since the only two appliances they had managed to order so far were the new washer and dryer. So while she couldn’t keep her drinks cold and was still eating restaurant food, at least she could feel fresh every morning by doing the wash, even if it always looked like she was wearing dirty clothes.
“He forgot his wallet and I had to pay for lunch,” she said. “So he invited me to dinner tomorrow night. I don’t entirely trust his motives yet. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, though. I wonder if he likes the chase.”
Olivia squinted her eyes in thought as they exited the back door after Wyatt. “Hard to tell.” She stepped over a pile of seashell mulching bags. “But he definitely makes for an easy view.” Olivia winked at Callie.
“That, he does.” She laughed. “I wasn’t prepared for going out. What am I going to wear?” The sand whipped around with the wind, blowing across the old gray boards of the walkway.
“Don’t worry. You can borrow that white sundress I bought. I’ve never worn it, and it cost me a ton. It would be nice for someone to get some use out of it.”
Callie had been with Olivia when she’d bought the dress. They’d shared a bottle of champagne, had their nails done, and spent all day shopping—an indulgent girls’ day. Olivia hadn’t been on a date since she and Wyatt’s father had split up. She’d finally agreed to go out with someone, but as she prepared—bought a new dress, got her hair cut and her nails done—she’d chickened out and cancelled. Wyatt’s father had let them down, and she didn’t want it to happen again. Not now that Wyatt’s heart could be broken too.
“Are you sure you want me to wear that one?” Callie had loved that dress, and when Olivia bought it, she’d been so glad that her friend had found something so lovely. It tied behind the neck, and flowed down very casually just above the knees. With some strappy sandals and big hoop earrings, it was adorable.
“Yes. I’m more than sure. It’s still in the garment bag with the tags on it. I was going to return it, but I just never did.”
“You’re a life saver,” Callie said, not wanting to dwell on the subject. It would only bring them around to Wyatt’s father, the whole reason dating was so hard for Olivia. She’d spent so many nights helping Olivia through the tears and the hurt during that time, and she knew her friend didn’t want to relive any part of it. They didn’t talk about him anymore, never mentioning his name unless he was coming to pick up Wyatt on the odd holiday.
She knew too well what a gaping hole a break up could cause. Callie had experienced it herself: Things had been going so well. She had bought a loft apartment in Richmond; she’d been promoted to senior manager of accounts at the marketing firm where she worked, and she’d started in a new department. It was there that Callie had met a guy—his name was Kyle; he was a graphic designer. He’d been considerate, mannerly, all the things she might look for, and she’d let herself fall for him.
There was one particular moment when she knew that she’d fallen hard. He’d made her laugh—he always did—but that time as she giggled, she could see a look in his eyes that she thought meant something. They’d dated just long enough for her to start to rethink her future, considering him in her life’s choices, when suddenly and completely unexpectedly, he’d broken it off.
He’d said he wasn’t ready for a long-term relationship. She thought back to the way he’d kept an extra blanket folded next to the pillow where she slept in his room because she always got cold and how he’d bought a coffee mug to keep in the cabinet just for her—he didn’t drink coffee. Callie had pored over every conversation, everything they’d done together, never once feeling that she’d put any pressure on him. They’d just progressed from one stage to another. But the day after he’d ended things, she saw him kissing their co-worker Sheila in the office parking lot, that same look on his face that she’d thought had been only for her. Sick with the weight of betrayal, unable to show up in the office and look them both in the eye, Callie had quit her job that day. She’d just called her boss and resigned.
So when Olivia told her their dream of owning the cottage could actually be a reality, Callie jumped at the chance, leaving her office career behind and investing her time and all her savings in The Beachcomber, where they could meet people from all over, sit out on the back porch with their coffees, and watch the sun rise over the Atlantic.
The Beachcomber was the fresh start she needed.
Four
Callie woke to the sound of a buzz saw. She checked the clock a
gain—seven o’clock. She’d been tossing and turning for about an hour, the heat and noise creeping in from the construction downstairs. She couldn’t wait to get out on the beach and feel the refreshing chill of the sea spray as it caught in the wind and sprinkled her skin.
The saw squealed again, and she was acutely aware of her need for coffee. Delighted that although the kitchen was probably covered in dust from all the work downstairs, it had—as of this week—a working coffee maker, she threw on her clothes and went downstairs. The saw was competing with a loud banging and she covered her ears.
“Sorry!” Olivia said, following her into the kitchen. “The crew for the porches got here early and had to start.”
With a groggy nod, Callie took the cream out of the fridge while Olivia retrieved the sugar, setting it beside her with a smile. She was always the early bird. Callie yawned as she filled the coffee maker and got herself a mug. After what seemed like years rather than minutes due to the noise, the coffee finally percolated and she poured herself a cup, offering one to Olivia.
When the sawing tapered off, Callie sent a quiet “thank you” to God as she sat down in silence at the new kitchen table, delivered yesterday evening. The table was a creamy whitewashed color, with the wood grains peeking through in places. It was big enough to fill the large breakfast area that was being widened further to accommodate additional smaller tables and chairs for guests.
The saws started back up and Callie winced. “I think I’m going to take my coffee outside to wake up a little before I start renovations for the day. Want to come?”
“I woke up really early and just jumped right into it! I’m going to finish the trim in the hallway with Wyatt before I take a break. I’m feeling motivated!” Olivia pumped her fists in the air, making Callie laugh.