by Elks, Carrie
A flash of recognition passed her eyes. “That’s who bought this place? Déjà Brew?”
“You’ve heard of them?”
“Who hasn’t?” Ally asked. “They’re like the McDonalds of coffee.” Her eyes widened as soon as she’d said it. “Oh god, that’s your company, isn’t it? You own Déjà Brew? I’m sorry.” She lifted her hand to cover her mouth, and her face – already pink from her running – deepened in color. “But seriously, you’re planning on changing this place?” She shook her head a little, as though trying to jolt her thoughts down. “Are you renaming it too, or will it still be the Beach Café?”
“All our outlets are called Déjà Brew. Our customers like that.” He shrugged. “And you’re right, we do try to offer our customers the same experience, too. It doesn’t matter if they’re in Seattle, Sacramento, or Angel Sands. They know their latte is going to taste good.” He smiled. “It’s a formula but it works.”
“It won’t work in Angel Sands,” Ally told him. Was that a smug tone he could hear in her voice?
“Of course it will. It works everywhere.”
“Did you look around town the last time you were here?” Ally asked, sounding impassioned. “Did you spot any chain stores among all the boutiques and bakeries?”
“No,” Nate conceded, his voice low.
“And there’s a good reason for that. The locals and the tourists don’t like them. They prefer one-of-a-kind places, like this café and the surf shop next door. They love looking for books in a little independent shop that’s run by the same woman who’s owned it for the past forty years.”
“Ally,” Nate said, his voice even, “I promise you I know what I’m doing. Your customers are going to love the new outlet, and so will all the new customers we attract. But I need your help with this. You know the town and you know this place.” He gestured at the café with his hand. “You’re the most important member of the team.” He pulled the keys out of his pocket and walked toward the door. “Let me take you home and we can start again later.”
“I can walk.” She sounded defeated. “It’s not that far.”
“In bare feet?”
She wiggled her toes. “Yeah.”
He opened his mouth to argue, then shut it. He had enough experience to know when he was defeated.
“If you’re sure…”
“Of course I am. What’s the worst that can happen?”
3
Well at least now she knew what the worst was, and she was still trying to clean it off her feet under the hot spray of her showerhead. Who knew gum could stick that much? After a few attempts at trying to yank the big wad of sticky goo from her bare sole, she’d resorted to jabbing at it with the end of her razor. It finally fell off in a huge lump in the shower tub. She tried not to heave as she lifted it up with the tips of her fingers and threw it in the bathroom trashcan.
On the bright side it wasn’t glass. Or something a dog had squeezed out. And anyway, it was worth it to have walked out of the café with her head held high.
Or as high as it could be when you’re walking in bare feet and you have no idea if you’ll have a job in a couple of weeks time.
She climbed out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her body and using a second one to dry the spray off her long hair. She twisted it into a turban and walked down the hallway to her bedroom, yanking her closet door open to try and decide what to wear.
In front of her hung the same old clothes. Shorts and denim skirts, t-shirts and tanks. A couple of sweaters that were only dragged out on the rare occasion the temperature dipped. She’d once had a raincoat that had stayed on its hanger for two years before she’d donated it to Goodwill, tags still attached.
In the end she picked a pair of navy shorts and a blue striped top that knotted at the waist. And when she’d pulled them on and managed to coax her damp hair into a messy topknot, she sat down on the bed and stared at herself in the mirror her mom had fixed to the wall when they’d first moved into this place twenty years ago. She could remember them looking around it, and her mom being so proud to be able to afford their own place with her wage from Newtons’ Pharmaceuticals. And at the time all Ally could think of was the fact it was a condo, and there was no swimming pool.
Looking back, she regretted that day so much. Hated that she’d failed to understand how hard her mom must have worked to keep a roof over their heads. And she’d never had a chance to tell her that. Instead, she’d lost her mom when she was still a hormone-ridden, sullen teenager, too busy rolling her eyes to see her mom for who she really was. Her passing was sudden and shocking, and Ally thought about her every day.
For years after her mom’s death, while she’d lived with her dad in his bungalow over on the other side of town, they’d rented the condo out. Her mom’s insurance had paid some of the mortgage off, but they’d relied on the rental income to cover the rest. When Ally had left school and started working at the café, she’d decided to move back in to the condo. Her wages weren’t amazing, but they were enough to cover what was left of the loan and the additional bills she had to pay every month.
Without them she wouldn’t be able to live here anymore. She pulled her legs up close to her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees, trying to comfort herself. Having to move out of this place would cut her like a knife. It was her one connection left to her mom. She could sit in the kitchen and remember how it used to feel as she finished her assignments at the square table when her mom rushed in from work and would immediately throw some food in the stove. Then there were the Christmases – the ones when it was her mom’s year to have Ally for the big day itself and they’d stay up late on Christmas Eve watching movie after movie. By that point Ally knew the truth about Santa, but her mom never batted an eyelid. She’d tell Ally to go and put her stocking out at the foot of her bed, and when Ally walked into her bedroom she’d see a new pair of pajamas waiting for her on her bed, a little note from Santa attached.
She still bought herself a new pair of pajamas every year, putting them out on Christmas Eve in memory of her mom. Nobody else knew about that, not even Brooke or Ember. It was a secret, their secret, and she kept it between herself and her mom.
If she was really honest, the thought of having to move out of this condo was one of the things that was motivating her to get dressed and walk back to the Beach Café. She needed a job, and right now that was her best option.
The other thing? It was the café itself. Like her home, it had been such a huge part of her life ever since she was a child. And now that her dad had left, it was her only connection left to the life she used to live. She’d lost her mother, and her dad showed no signs of coming back to town. The Beach Café felt like the only thing she had left.
Except it wasn’t hers, was it? It now belonged to Déjà Brew and its handsome owner. She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering how dismissive he’d been of the café and it’s history. He hadn’t wanted to hear her explanations, even though she’d worked there for the past ten years. He’d made it perfectly clear that he didn’t care about the culture in Angel Sands, or what the locals preferred.
In fact, Mr. Déjà Brew wasn’t interested in her opinion at all. And wasn’t that just a kick in the teeth?
* * *
Nate was on a phone call to the building company who were booked to do the refurbishments when the door to the café opened. He looked up to see an old man walking in, wearing a pair of baggy surf shorts and what looked like it used to be a white t-shirt before it became grey thanks to over-washing.
“I’m sorry, we’re closed right now,” Nate told him.
“So I see. You the new owner?” The old man had his arms folded across his chest the same way Riley had the previous day. Nate tried not to smile at the comparison.
“That’s right. Nate Crawford.” He held out his hand. The man looked at it for a moment. Then he reached out his own hand and gave Nate’s a brief shake.
“I’m Lorne Daniels. I own the sur
f shop next door.” Though his tone was neutral, his eyes were narrowed.
Ah, a fellow business owner. Nate had learned to tread carefully there. You couldn’t tell if they were the type to embrace change or be fearful of it. Plus there was the Déjà Brew brand – that always polarized opinion.
“It’s good to meet you, sir. I hope we don’t cause you any problems by being closed for the next couple of weeks. I know a lot of business around here rely on footfall, but I can guarantee that once we’re open I have plans to increase our traffic by fifty percent. That should hopefully spill out to the rest of the shops, too.”
“I don’t care about the footfall. I have enough turnover to keep things going. I want to know your intentions toward Ally Sutton.”
“I’m sorry?” Nate’s brows knitted together. “I don’t have any intentions toward her. I mean she’s a beautiful woman and everything, but she’s really not my type.” Had Lorne spotted him taking a surreptitious look at Ally when she’d been standing in front of him with all her spandex-clad glory?
“I don’t mean those sort of intentions,” Lorne replied. Though his face remained expressionless, Nate could have sworn there was a twinkle in the old man’s eyes. “I mean are you going to keep her employed here? That girl’s like a daughter to me. I want to make sure she’s taken care of. In fact, there are a lot of people in Angel Sands who feel the same.”
“She’ll stay working at the new coffee shop. I promised her father.”
“Huh. And I suppose you’ll be leaving town as soon as the café is up and running then?”
“No, sir,” Nate said. “I plan to stay around while my daughter finishes high school. After that I’ll be heading back to Seattle.”
“You and the wife?”
“It’s just me and Riley.”
Lorne gave another ‘huh’. It really was halfway between a hum and a choke. Nate had to look twice to see he was okay. “That’s what they all say,” the old man muttered.
Nate frowned. “That it’s just them and Riley?”
“No. That they’re only in town for a little while. But what they don’t know,” Lorne said, leaning closer, as though he had the best secret to tell. “And what you don’t know either, Mr. Crawford, is that once this place has its hooks in you, you’ll never want to leave.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, sir. I suppose you’ve heard the story of the angel?”
Um, no he hadn’t. Nate didn’t particularly want to hear it now either. He wanted to go back into the shop and get things ready for the staff meeting he was planning to have, and later the renovation company would arrive, ready to begin work on the place.
“That’s how this town came to be built, you know,” Lorne said, even though Nate hadn’t had a chance to reply. “A lost man was looking for somewhere to call home. His name was Captain Paxton and he was sailing around these shores looking for a place to anchor up. Then he looked into the sky and saw an angel hovering ahead, her arm stretched out and pointing to this very bay. And though his entire crew thought it was too dangerous, too rocky and too shallow, he steered his ship inward and came to rest just where Paxton’s Pier is today.” Lorne nodded his head. “And even if you can’t see her, the angel’s been showing lost people their way home ever since.”
That was all very well, but this wasn’t Nate’s home. It was just a place he hoped Riley would be able to see out school for the next year and a half. Without flunking out, without getting kicked out, and preferably without being thrown into jail.
“That’s a good story.”
Lorne shook his head. “It’s a stupid story. Everybody knows Captain Paxton was a drunk.”
“He was?” This conversation was more than confusing. Nate wanted it to end, and soon.
“Yes, but that’s a story for another day. Okay, then. As long as we’re clear on everything.” Lorne nodded, more to himself than Nate. “You understand?”
“Sure,” Nate lied. “Completely.”
“Well have a good day. And remember to treat Ally right.” With that, Lorne turned on his heel and left, walking out a lot faster than he’d walked in.
Nate took a deep breath and shook his head, because, seriously?
He wasn’t sure what just happened.
* * *
A crowd had gathered on the boardwalk by the time Ally made it back to the Beach Café, a much bigger one than she’d seen waiting for a coffee in a long time. She smiled at Deenie Russell, long-time owner of Books on the Beach, and Deenie waved back.
“We were just looking for you. Are you okay, sweetheart?” Deenie reached out for Ally’s hand and squeezed it.
“Is it true that you’re closing up the café for a few weeks?” Frank Megassey asked, staring at the sign Nate Crawford must have pasted on the locked door to the café. “For renovations? Nobody’s asked me about helping with materials.”
And from the dark tone in his voice he wasn’t happy about it one bit. Everybody in Angel Sands knew that Frank supplied the best materials and tools. He knew about every renovation in town.
Except this one, it would seem.
“It’s just for a couple of weeks,” Ally said, staring at the closed doors. “The new owner wants to brighten the place up. It’s been a long time since those walls saw a lick of paint.”
“Who’s the new owner?” Frank asked, inclining his head to try and look through the glass. “Do I know him?”
“Or her,” Deenie said, shooting Frank a dark look.
“I don’t think so. It’s been bought by a chain,” Ally told him, trying to keep her voice as upbeat as possible. She might have told Nate what she thought about his plans, but that didn’t mean anybody else needed to know. “You might have heard of them. Déjà Brew.”
“I told you.” Lorne raised his eyebrows at Frank. “See, I’m not such an old liar after all.”
“Déjà Brew?” Frank repeated, rubbing his thick beard with his fingers. “Drink it once and we guarantee you’ll be back?”
“You’ve seen those ads too? They’re catchy as hell, aren’t they?” Deenie said. She turned her warm eyes on Ally. “What does this mean for you, honey?”
“There’s a job for me in the new place if I want it.”
“And do you want it?”
Ally forced her lips into a smile, deciding a lie might be better than the truth. “Yes, I do. This could be a great opportunity for Angel Sands. The tourists are going to love it.” Think positive, right? That way she might even begin to believe it herself.
Maybe.
She reached for the door handle, curling her fingers around the metal, feeling the warmth of it against her palm. For a second she remained still, her chest tightening at the thought of all the changes that were happening. From the youngest age she’d seen that as a bad thing.
Changes meant people left her. They meant she’d be pushed this way and that, like a piece of jetsam floating in the ocean.
Opening her lips, she took a jagged breath in, and squared her shoulders. She wasn’t that little girl anymore, and there was no need to be afraid. She was surrounded by friends. Nothing bad was going to happen.
“Well here goes nothing,” she whispered to herself, pushing open the door.
It was time to face the future – her future – and whatever it was, she could handle that.
* * *
“You’re giving us two weeks off?” Jeff’s face lit up as he leaned forward and grinned at Nate. “Seriously? That’s fantastic.” He paused for a moment then frowned. “Wait, I’m still gonna get paid, right?”
“Yes, you’ll be paid. And you’ll need to come in toward the end of the second week for training along with the new staff. I want us to hit the ground running when we open.”
It was funny how easy it was to gain the loyalty of some people. Jeff looked as though all his Christmases had come at once. Ally, on the other hand, was biting her lip at what he’d just said. As though he’d told her she was fired rather than offering two w
eeks paid leave.
He couldn’t work her out at all.
“Sure, great. Can I go now?” Jeff stood up and rubbed his hands together, a big smile splitting his face. “See you in a couple of weeks. Thanks for the time off, Mr. Crawford. You sure are a great boss.”
It might have been Nate’s imagination, but he thought he saw Ally shudder at this. “Yeah, sure, you can leave now. I’ll send some paperwork through the mail to you. And I’ll call you with the dates for training.”
Whether Jeff heard or not, Nate wasn’t sure. The cook was already halfway out the door by the time Nate finished speaking. As the door closed behind him, Nate turned to look at the woman sitting opposite him. Her elbows were resting on the table, and there was the strangest expression on her face. She was impossible to read.
God she was pretty, though. Not that he should be noticing – she was an employee. And after the debacle with Stephanie, he was pretty much done with relationships for life. What woman in her right mind would want to get involved with a guy with a teenager? Ally Sutton might have a body to die for in that spandex running gear, but he was a grown up, he could push that out of his mind.
“Is everything okay?” he asked her.
He noticed she was drumming her fingers on her thighs beneath the table. “Um, yeah, it’s fine.” Her whole body started to move to the rhythm. “Are you sure you don’t want me here?” she asked him. “Won’t you need someone to show you where everything is? The electric box, the water supply, all that jazz? I’ll happily hang around to help.”
“Your father’s lawyer sent us the plans for the place. They include all the utility points. I have a whole team of people who plan out the renovations and liaise with our construction companies. They have it under control.” That didn’t make her look any happier. The smile slipped from Nate’s lips. “Seriously, Ally, if anybody deserves a break it’s you. I looked at the staff rosters before I bought this place and I saw how many hours you’d been putting in.”