by Elks, Carrie
And she’d been spending a lot of time with Ally, he’d noticed.
Nate liked it here, too. He enjoyed sitting at a corner table with his laptop. Liked the atmosphere, the sound of the waves as they crashed against the shore.
And, yeah, he might have liked watching a certain manageress as she served the customers.
“Don’t the staff find it intimidating having you there all the time?” Kirsten asked him.
Nate frowned. “Why would they?”
“Because you own the company. They must feel like they have to be constantly on their best behavior.”
“You think so?” He wasn’t sure what to make of that. “I really don’t think I’m that scary.”
He frowned, thinking for a minute. The staff always seemed happy to see him. Brad had called him over when he came in yesterday to show him his new latte art, grinning like crazy when Nate had complimented him on it.
And Ally didn’t seem to mind at all that he came in every afternoon. She was all smiles whenever he walked into the shop, and he had to admit he liked that a lot.
Here in Angel Sands he felt like another member of the team. That made him feel welcome. He couldn’t remember the last time people had treated him like a friend rather than a boss.
“It depends how grumpy you are with them,” Kirsten teased. “Hopefully not too much. Talking of which, how’s Riley settling in?”
“Not too bad,” Nate admitted. “I think she only screamed at me four times last week.” And that was a massive improvement on the week before. “She’s made a few friends at her new school, too.” Another reason why he liked dropping into the shop. He’d pretend to be busy behind the counter, but seeing his daughter smile as she spoke to Ally made his heart swell about three sizes bigger.
Riley had the prettiest smile when she remembered to use it. He could barely recall the last time he’d seen it, but now she was cracking it out every day.
“Wow. Maybe California is good for the both of you. There’s something about that sea air.”
As much as he hated to admit it, there was definitely something about Angel Sands. He smiled to himself when he remembered Lorne’s words of wisdom back on his first day renovating the shop. What was it he’d said?
Once this place has its hooks in you, you’ll never want to leave.
Well he might not have a choice about leaving – he had a business to run after all. But right now he was happy to be here. And happy wasn’t something he’d felt in a long time.
* * *
It was one of those rare California early mornings when there seemed to be more white cloud than blue sky. The lack of sun had turned the air cool enough for the weather forecasters to be muttering about rain, something that was uncommon enough here in Angel Sands for it to cause an outcry. On her way into work, Ally had noticed that Deenie Russell hadn’t put her usual stands of books outside her shop on Main Street, and Lorne had only put a few of his brightly colored surfboards out on the boardwalk, leaving most of them below the tattered awning that hung from his shop.
“Hey!” she called through the door. She eventually located him in the far corner of the shop, scowling at a dispatch note. “You doing okay?”
“As good as it gets when you get to my age,” he said, looking up from the sheet of paper he was holding. “They need to make WD40 for humans.”
Ally laughed. “I’ll bring you a coffee, since it’s pretty much the same thing,” she offered. “Milk, two sugars, the way you like it.”
“No need. I already had me a latte this morning,” Lorne replied, grinning. “It was all prettied up. Did you know they can draw a leaf in the foam?”
“Oh.” She tried to knock the expression of disappointment from her face. She’d been bringing Lorne coffee ever since she was a teenager, but that didn’t mean he had to wait for her to turn up like some kind of coffee fairy. “Is the shop open early?”
“Nope. Still shut. But Nate knows exactly how I like it.” Lorne nodded his head approvingly. “He’s managed to sweeten us all up with his drinks. Even Frank Megassey’s succumbed to him. I saw him accept a cappuccino with extra sprinkles yesterday. All the chocolate and foam clinging to his moustache.” Lorne raised his eyebrows. “He should act his age sometimes.”
In spite of her long run that morning, she felt her muscles tighten as though they wanted to do it all over again. She took a deep breath, inhaling the salty air as it rose up from the shoreline.
So what if the locals were accepting Déjà Brew? That was a good thing, after all. They’d point customers their way, as well as being customers themselves. Nate was doing the right thing in courting them.
Even if it made her feel a little bit forgotten, along with the old Beach Café.
“Well, if you want another coffee later, give me a shout,” she told him, smiling in spite of the tightness in her chest.
“I will. As long as you can make a latte as good as this one.” He widened his eyes and took another sip, smacking his lips together with pleasure.
Lorne had gone over to the dark side. Who would have thought it?
Just as he’d told her, the door to the coffee shop was still locked. She pulled out her keys and let herself in, locking it up again until it was time to open in twenty minutes. When she turned around something caught her eye and she tipped her head to the side, her brow dipping as she looked at the counter.
There was an old battered box on there, the corners bashed in, the lid barely able to close thanks to whatever was stuffed inside. She frowned at how familiar it looked. Biting her bottom lip, she took a step forward, wanting to look inside.
“It’s your day off.”
She turned to see Nate walking through the kitchen door.
“I just had two weeks off,” she told him, taking another glance at the box from the corner of her eye. “I thought I should probably make up the time.” She was getting used to the way her heart galloped every time she saw her boss.
“Yeah, but that wasn’t your choice,” he said, that half-smile still crinkling the skin around his eyes. “You’re an employee now. You don’t have to keep this place running single handed. You can have a life too.”
His words hit her like a slap in the face. She blinked, trying not to show her reaction. Maybe she should start wearing a ski mask every day. It had to be easier than forcing her facial muscles into expressions they didn’t really feel.
Did he know that she was crushing on him? Oh God, please don’t let that be true. Just the thought of it made her want to run again. Run and never stop.
She looked at the box for a third time, and this time Nate followed her gaze. “I found it in the store cupboard,” he told her. “I think it must belong to you.” He cleared his throat. “If you don’t want it I can throw it away, but I thought it’d be best to ask you first.”
Ally reached for the lid and pulled it off, looking at the mass of photographs stuffed into the box. She recognized them instantly, though it must have been years since she’d seen them. Her throat tightened as her gaze fell on the top one.
“That’s my mom,” she said.
“I thought it was you at first.”
Ally glanced up at him, wondering if he was joking, but his expression was completely serious. “You think I look like her?”
He looked back down at the photograph. “Yeah. She was very pretty.”
Ally wondered if he’d realized what he’d said. She felt her face flush at his compliment.
She lifted the photograph out of the box, holding it up in the light. It was faded, but still clear. Her mom standing outside the Beach Café, wearing a tank and a pair of shorts. You couldn’t have placed her by the cut of her clothes alone – that kind of fashion was timeless. But Ally knew it must have been taken at least twenty years ago. Before her mom and dad split up.
Damn it, she was going to cry. And Ally rarely cried. Not when her father left. Not during the time she was trying to keep this place going and it felt like she was pushing huge
rocks up a mountain. Crying meant people looked at you and asked questions. It was better to remain impassive.
She dropped her head and took a deep breath. Holding it for a moment until the emotions ebbed away, she looked back up at him.
“Can I have these?”
“Of course.” He looked bemused. “They’re yours.”
She nodded but didn’t reply. Didn’t trust herself to.
“You should take these home. It’s your day off, after all.” His voice was gentle, as if he realized the impact of the photos. “You need your rest the same as everybody else.”
“We have a late delivery tonight,” Ally reminded him. “I should be here for that.”
“I have it covered.”
“And it’s Tuesday. The historical society will be coming at four,” she pointed out.
“I know. I’ll have Jeff make some extra pastries.”
“And don’t forget Brad has a doctor’s appointment.” She frowned. “Are you sure you’ve got enough staff without me?”
“Go home, Ally.” His smile was gentle. She felt a flush of warmth rush through her.
“I will. But call me if you—”
“Home.” His voice was firmer this time.
“Okay, okay.” If her arms had been free she would have thrown them up in surrender. “I’m going already. You don’t have to throw me out of the door.”
“I will if I have to,” he warned, putting his hand on the small of her back, the pressure of his palm through her shirt sending a shiver up her spine. “Have a good day off and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Yes he would. And damn if she wasn’t looking forward to it already.
8
Ally shook her head and put the lid back on the photographs, carrying the box to her closet where she lifted it onto a shelf. She’d been sorting through them ever since she’d gotten home from the coffee shop, and her head was full of the memories and emotions they’d captured so perfectly.
Photographs of her mother, her father, of Lorne looking so much younger than she ever remembered him being. Then there were ones of Ally, ranging from when she was a baby cradled in her father’s arms, right up to when she was a pre-teen with crooked teeth begging out for orthodontic treatment. They’d brought back memories of things she’d tried long to forget. Christmases spent with both her parents, summers lying on the sand with her mom. For a few hours she hadn’t felt so alone any more.
But she was. Out of the three of them, she was the only one left in Angel Sands, and that thought sent a pang straight through her. Until her father had left town she’d still had something – someone – to cling onto. And right now, sitting in her empty condo as an unseasonal rain spattered against her window, she’d never felt more alone.
She laid the picture back on top of the others she’d piled up in the box. She wasn’t ready to do anything with them yet – whether to catalogue them or put them in a fancy scrapbook the way she always planned to with photographs but never did. Instead she put the lid back on, hoping she could shut away the emotions she was feeling along with the photos.
She’d just slid the box into a shelf in her living room when her cellphone started to buzz. As she walked over to grab it she checked her watch. Three o’clock. It was unlikely to be her friends – Ember would be working and Brooke would be at college. It was more likely to be Nate asking about the historical society.
But when she picked her phone up the screen showed an out of area number. Ally slid her finger to accept the call.
“Hello?” she asked, still a little unsure as to who was calling, but thinking it might be Riley since the area code was the same as Nate’s. Yep, she’d given the girl her number, but Riley had made no bones about the fact she wasn’t intending to use it.
She heard a muffled voice, followed by some others.
“Riley, is that you?” Ally asked, raising her voice.
There was a laugh and some stomping, before the voices became a bit clearer. Wherever it was, wherever Riley was, she must have found some better reception.
“… it’ll be fine. It’s not that far down.” Though the voices were clearer, they still sounded far away. It was only when she heard the reply – just as loud as Riley’s – that Ally realized she’d been butt dialed.
“It’s not that scary,” a voice said.
“Riley?” Ally called a little louder, trying to make herself heard. But still no reply. Just more muttering and a shout of laughter that reminded her so vividly of being a teenager. She smiled and went to end the call when she heard something that chilled her blood.
“Are you sure it’s safe to jump? The cliff is really high.”
That was Riley’s voice, she was sure of it. Ally sat up straight, her heart in her throat.
“Riley?” Ally shouted, not caring if she embarrassed the girl. “Can you hear me? Don’t jump off the cliff.”
Nothing.
“Riley? I’m calling your dad right now. Don’t do it. Don’t jump.”
Ally’s fingers were trembling as she ended the call and pulled Nate up in her contacts. She pressed ‘call’ and heard the dial tone repeat twice before his voicemail clicked in.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Nate, it’s Ally. Please call me back.”
She hit the end button and tried calling Riley, but that clicked to voicemail, too. Ally stood, her heart hammering against her ribcage and looked around her empty apartment, as though she might find a solution there.
Was Riley really going to jump?
Of course she was. And she wouldn’t be the first. Ally could remember the kids back in high school doing the same thing – leaping from the cliff just past Silver Cove, where the ocean was deeper as it crashed against the shore. She could remember one of them having his arm in plaster from the tips of his finger right up to his shoulder, too, where he’d clipped the edge of some rocks as he’d plummeted into the water.
Her heart hammering against her chest, Ally ran into the hallway and pulled on her running shoes, nearly falling to one side as she got them over her heel. Grabbing her keys, she ran as fast as she could down the stairs to the parking lot, jumping into her car and starting it up.
It took five minutes to drive from her condo to the cliffs, but each minute felt like it was stretched so thin it was almost breaking. She could feel her breath shorten as the adrenaline rushed through her veins.
Don’t jump, Riley. Please.
There was no parking lot at the cliffs, but she could see a collection of cars parked at the edge of the road, and she pulled in behind them. In the distance, at the edge of the cliff, she could see ten or fifteen figures, all clustered together and pointing at the ocean below.
The rain hadn’t eased off any since it had begun earlier that day, and the clouds had colored the ocean a foreboding dark grey. Ally felt the nausea rise up in her stomach as she saw the group step back, leaving a lone figure standing at the edge.
“Riley!” Ally called out, but the rain and wind swallowed her words. The girl wouldn’t have heard her anyway. The group of teenagers were too loud, and she was too far away.
There was nothing for it but to run.
The ground was wet beneath her shoes, the grass slippery from the rain. Her running shoes skidded against the earth as she tried to speed up her gait, still calling at Riley not to jump.
One of the girls noticed her, and elbowed another who turned around to look. They shouted at Riley, who was right at the edge of the cliff, peering over with her dark hair falling around her face.
Riley slowly turned to look at Ally, her eyes wide with shock. Ally was so close now – only twenty feet away, and she opened her mouth to shout again, certain that this time Riley would hear her.
But it was Riley who shouted first. “Look out!”
Ally had no idea what she meant. Not until her foot hit hard rock instead of soft, wet grass, and she flew up into the air, weightless for a moment, before she came crashing down, her head hitting a rock, and her foo
t bending beneath her as her ankle gave a sickening crunch.
For a second, Ally felt nothing at all. But a heartbeat later the pain rushed in, shooting like knives from her ankle, and throbbing like a bitch on her head. Her breath felt too shallow, like it was caught in her throat and unable to make it to her lungs. She needed to sit up, to get up, but her muscles wouldn’t move at all. It was as though she was pinned to the ground.
“She’s bleeding from her head,” someone said, leaning over her.
“Jesus, look at her foot. It shouldn’t be at that angle.”
The voices were muffled, as though she was listening to a butt dial all over again, but she could barely concentrate on what they were saying. The pain was too acute, too overwhelming. She had to grit her teeth together not to scream.
“Oh my God. Are you okay?” Riley asked, crouching down next to her. “Do you think you can get up?”
Ally couldn’t reply. She had no breath left in her lungs. It hurt too much to even open her eyes.
“Should we call an ambulance?” one of the girls said.
Riley reached out to touch Ally’s face. “I’m so sorry,” she said, swallowing down a sob. “This is all my fault.”
“It hurts,” Ally managed to get out.
“Dude, that ankle looks pretty bad,” one of the guys standing by Ally’s feet said.
Yeah, it felt pretty bad, too, she wanted to say. But then another pulse of pain shot up from her foot and she let out a low groan.
“Okay, I’m gonna call 911,” Riley said, patting Ally’s hair as though she was a little girl. “And the rest of you might want to get out of here, because after that I’m calling my dad and he’s definitely gonna kill me.”
* * *
Nate rushed toward the hospital desk, breathless from running from the car to the building. “I’m looking for my daughter, Riley Crawford,” he said to the nurse behind the glass. “I’m her dad.”