He shook his head. He needed to move forward without looking back.
“She’s a writer and the conversation was so easy...”
“You can make conversation with a tree stump easy—”
“She’s funny too. Witty.”
“That’s a definite departure from—”
“Don’t say her name, man.”
Tully shrugged. “I’m sorry. I just mean...so far so good.”
“The one catch is—”
“Here it comes.”
“She’s only in Roseley for a little while. She doesn’t live here and didn’t say when she was leaving.”
“A minor setback.”
Charlie snatched a pickle out of the jar as his friend chomped down on his sad little sandwich. He made his way to check Tully’s refrigerator: beer, an open can of tuna fish and a bulk package of spicy snap sausage. “Don’t you grocery shop?”
Tully shrugged and glanced back at him. “It needs a woman’s touch.”
“Does it ever. How’s it going in that department? Any new cadets catch your eye?”
“Oh, no. Don’t change the subject. When are you seeing your next heartbreak again?”
“Hopefully tonight, if she decides to show. I’ll have to stalk every motel in the county to find her if she doesn’t.”
“She’ll show.”
Charlie leaned back against the refrigerator, picturing Paige’s perfect face.
“Oh, yeah?”
Tully chomped down on another bite of sandwich and grinned. “Have you ever known a woman to turn you down?”
He hadn’t. But that hadn’t really been his problem with love. He fell fast and hard and didn’t see the warning signs until they clocked him in the face. Maybe this time things could be different if he only practiced some restraint. He wouldn’t fall in love again until he knew, without a doubt, that his feelings were completely requited.
“Do you need help with this?” Charlie asked, motioning to the kitchen sink.
“Do you have time?”
“I’ll make the time. I need the distraction.”
“I know what you mean. Home repairs are the only thing that get my mind off working a case.”
Charlie squatted down in front of the pipes. When it came to Paige, he wasn’t sure a home project was strong enough to do the trick.
* * *
PAIGE THREW HERSELF over her motel room bed and pressed her cell phone to her ear as her aunt’s voice came over the line.
“Was it a productive first day, honey?”
Paige ran her finger along the powder blue swirl design on her bedspread.
“Sort of.”
“What does that mean? Didn’t you find the sports shop?”
“I did, but I’m not sure if Mara, the owner, is Lucy’s adoptive mother or not. I’m still working on that part.”
“Couldn’t you ask her if she has a ten-year-old daughter?”
“I could if I wanted the conversation to end right there. I don’t only want to find Lucy. I want to make sure she’s okay—safe, happy. I need to know we made the right choice.”
“I never doubted whether or not we made the right choice, Paige. Neither you nor I were in a position back then to raise a child, considering—”
“I know. I know it was the right choice in my head...”
“But?”
“My heart is still longing to know her.”
Aunt Joan sighed into the phone. Paige could picture the heavy frown lines deepening between her eyebrows, the way they did when the doctor delivered more bad news about Uncle Craig. Those lines had been permanently seared years ago.
“I know, kid. Mine is too.”
“I’m supposed to meet with Mara’s husband at the shop tomorrow. He’s interested in hiring a copywriter.”
“What? How did you swing that?”
“I still don’t know, but if I can make a great impression tomorrow, perhaps the job can put me in the right place to meet Lucy. I can’t just keep wandering into the sports shop every day, hoping she’s skipping school and hanging out there.”
“Any idea which school she attends?”
“I’m not about to go stalking every elementary school within a ten-mile radius.”
“True. Well, I’m happy for you, Paige. For only arriving last night, I’d say you’re on your way. Are you going to call it an early evening and rest up for your meeting tomorrow?”
Paige flopped to her back and covered her eyes with her arm. She was still entertaining the idea of meeting Charlie for dinner. Every time she convinced herself that getting involved was a foolish idea, she’d picture his dreamy brown eyes smiling back at her and the butterfly wings fluttering in her stomach made her reconsider.
“Something like that,” she said. “I still have to grab some dinner.”
“Let me know how the meeting goes tomorrow. Love you, honey.”
Paige hung up and stared at the clock on her phone. If she jumped in the shower right now, she could easily make it to Bayshore Bar before seven o’clock. Paige let out a labored groan and sat up on the bed. She technically didn’t have to decide right this instant. It was probably a good idea to take a hot shower before bed, and taking one didn’t mean she had to go out to dinner with Charlie. At least, that’s what she concluded as she trotted off to the bathroom.
* * *
PAIGE RAN A FINGER around the top of her glass and gazed out over the restaurant. Without even trying, she had found herself dressed and sipping a spritzer at the Bayshore Bar much earlier than seven o’clock.
“So much for just taking a shower,” she muttered to herself. She wanted to remain calm, cool and collected. After all, she had to eat. It didn’t really make much difference if it was greasy takeout eaten on her bed in front of the motel television or a Cobb salad at the bar. If she happened to talk to Charlie while eating that Cobb salad, what was the harm in that?
She had casually taken another glance around the restaurant when she spotted a stout little man scurrying toward her. The stout little woman at his side had curly gray hair and a ruby-red smile flashing straight at her.
“Pretty lady!” he called over the light instrumental music and chatter. “Hey there, pretty lady!”
“Hi, Angelo,” Paige said, accepting Angelo’s waiting hand as he turned to introduce her.
“This pretty lady—” He paused and looked expectantly at her to supply a name.
“Paige.”
“Paige here told me that our shop is the best in town. The best, CeCe.”
“Honey, the best, you say?” CeCe powered into Paige’s personal space and grasped her hands in hers.
“It’s true,” Paige said, hoping Angelo and CeCe didn’t ask her what other restaurants in town she had recently patronized.
“CeCe and I started The Sandwich Board almost twenty-seven years ago, didn’t we?”
CeCe nodded. “It was just a sub shop when we bought it. We moved here from New Jersey when our daughter got accepted to the university.”
“You moved halfway across the country to open a sandwich shop?”
“And to be near Tracy, our daughter.” Angelo smiled. “Although I don’t know how happy she was about it. She thought she was getting some freedom and we traipsed right into town behind her.”
Paige shook her head. “How could she not appreciate you moving closer?” The story made her long for parents who would have done the same for her. Luckily, she’d had Joan and Craig, but not until she was nearly Tracy’s age.
“Honey, where are you sitting?” CeCe asked, patting Paige lovingly on the cheek as if sensing a maternal energy was needed. “We already got a table. Come join us. Please don’t eat alone. It isn’t right to do such a thing. Is it, Angelo?”
He furiously shook his head. “Food needs to be experie
nced with company. Come on over.”
“Would you like another wine, miss?” the bartender asked as Paige tipped back the last of her drink, contemplating CeCe’s invitation.
“A water with lemon, please.” She needed to eat something before the white wine went straight to her head. But as she turned and spotted Charlie cutting through the crowd, his handsomeness garnering the attention of plenty of nearby women, she knew it was too late. Either the drink was making her woozy or the easy way his body strode swiftly toward her was.
“My friend just arrived,” she said, motioning toward Charlie. CeCe had to mask a squeal of excitement as she tugged at Angelo’s arm.
“Angelo, she’s on a date,” CeCe emphatically whispered as Angelo flailed to figure out what was happening. “We didn’t mean to interrupt,” CeCe offered, shooting Paige a sly smile.
“You didn’t,” Paige said as Charlie shook Angelo’s hand in greeting.
“Hello, Charlie,” CeCe said, nodding approvingly up at him. Her eyes sparkled like a seasoned matchmaker. “Good to see you’re doing well. We heard you got back into town.”
Charlie side-glanced at Paige as she hid a smile behind her water glass.
“News travels fast.”
“We’ll just be over here. Come on, Angelo. The kids need to order.”
Angelo waved goodbye as CeCe whispered in his ear and tugged him toward their table. Charlie muffled a laugh.
“I was hoping to act suave and open with a line,” he said, cozying up in front of her. “But I couldn’t keep a straight face right now if I tried.”
“No?” Paige said, smoothing her cool linen skirt over her crossed knee. “Why is that?” She could barely keep her hands from fidgeting as he stared at her, as if he’d wandered in out of the desert and couldn’t keep from drinking her all in. It had been a long time since she’d reciprocated feelings for a man, and as he slid onto the bar stool beside her, she wanted to savor every moment with him.
“I’m so happy to see you. I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“A girl has to eat.”
“Thank goodness for that. Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” she said with an eye roll as she motioned to the bartender. “The wait for the deck is at least an hour, so let’s eat here. I already eyed the menu, and after very seriously considering a Cobb salad, I realized there’s a bacon cheeseburger calling my name.”
“A woman after my own heart.” He took a sip from her water glass. Paige hid a smirk. The familiarity of it had her leaning closer as he ordered them two bacon cheeseburgers.
“How long have you been here?”
“Long enough to get some dirty looks for holding your bar stool. I had some thinking to do. How’s Tully?”
Charlie blinked. “He’s... Tully. You’ll have to meet him. He was a high school linebacker, but there’s not a mean bone in his body. He has the biggest heart.”
“Does he work with you?”
“He’s a longtime friend. His father and my stepdad went way back, so he and I grew up together. He’s more like my brother.”
“I’m close to my aunt and uncle like that. We live in the same duplex.”
“On either side?”
“It’s a good fit for us. I live on my side of the house, but I’m close enough to help if they need it.”
“Are they elderly?”
“Sick. My uncle has advanced-stage pancreatic cancer.” The words tumbled out fast and matter-of-factly as if she was ripping off a verbal Band-Aid. It was her best coping method to keep from getting choked up about it, as if doing it quickly would keep her from feeling the pain.
Charlie’s face fell, grave. “I’m so sorry.” With his arm resting on the bar, he grazed the length of her pinky finger with his own. Paige’s arm prickled. She wanted to move closer, to slip her hand under the heat of his and wish her sorrows all away.
“Me too.”
“How advanced is it?”
Paige bit back a shaky voice as the thought of losing Uncle Craig suddenly came over her again. Just when she thought she was prepared for the end, the thought of saying goodbye made her want to fall apart.
She shrugged, her eyes beginning to glisten at the thought of it. Charlie, as if sensing her pain, covered her hand with his own. She felt nothing but sincerity under the weight of his palm and welcomed it with a wispy smile. Uncle Craig had always been her rock, comforting and strong. And as her tearful eyes met Charlie’s, she saw something in him that reminded her of that strength.
“We were happy he made it through the winter. Every day is a gift.”
Charlie squeezed her hand slightly, sending a jolt to the nerves up her arm.
“I can tell you love him very much.” The timbre of his voice was low and gentle, each word cared for like a treasure. She wanted to draw every comfort from him that he could offer with his voice, his words, his touch. She blinked hard, unable to break his spell over her. If there were others in the restaurant, she was blissfully unaware of them.
“I do. Thank you, Charlie.”
“Is there anything I can do?” His brow tensed in seriousness. Though she found herself believing the sincerity of his offer completely, the darkness that shadowed her heart every time she thought of Uncle Craig reminded her there was nothing anyone could do. Not really.
Her eyes dropped to his hand placed snugly over hers, and the sight brought her a happiness she hadn’t known in a long time. Perhaps it was no more than a silver lining, but it was something, and she had needed it more than he could imagine. Paige turned the face of her palm and clasped his fingers in hers. They stayed like that for a long time, neither of them shifting, neither speaking.
When the bartender approached with a water pitcher and topped off her water glass without a word, Charlie lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a delicate kiss over it. Her mouth went dry, any hope for words lost in her throat as she watched him. He was so tender, so kind. And the gesture caressed a wound in her soul that had been formed such a long time ago.
Her eyes fluttered shut, willing him to kiss the heartache away completely. When she opened them again, they had filled with tears. As if retrieving it from thin air, he offered a tissue and she dotted her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to start their dinner by crying at the bar, but one glance at Charlie made her certain he didn’t mind.
“And your aunt?” he asked as she took a sip of water, grateful now it was nothing stronger.
Paige focused hard to regroup, her mind shifting to Aunt Joan. “I think she had the flu twenty years ago. She’s tough as nails.”
Charlie chuckled. “Are they from around here?”
“Ohio.”
“Then how did you find your way to Roseley?”
Paige took another sip, searching for a chunk of ice to crunch. That was a sticky question to which she didn’t absolutely have an answer. It wasn’t just that she didn’t want to get into the story about looking for Lucy. For so long, she hadn’t spoken the little girl’s name out of a desperate need to protect her. As much as she saw Charlie as a trustworthy confidant, she knew old habits died hard.
“I wandered in, I guess. It seems like a nice place to spend a few days.” Truth be told, she thought it seemed like a nice place to spend a lifetime.
“Now you’re talking. It has a small-town feel, but the lake gives you a bit of an escape when people are a bit too invasive.”
“Like CeCe?” She felt grateful for a topic that would let her chuckle away her emotions rather than tear up again.
“Exactly. I’ve known Mr. and Mrs. Takes for many years.”
“Twenty-seven, would you say?”
Charlie paused. “Ah...probably. How on earth did you know that?”
“They don’t hold much back. You saved me from being their dinner companion.”
“They would have made you feel
like family in under five minutes. That’s what you can expect in Roseley.”
“Do you have family in the area?”
Charlie grinned as the bartender brought them a basket of pub chips. “Why is family always so complicated?”
“I think they were designed that way.”
“You talk as if you know.”
She knew all too well. The last ten years had been a pleasant calm after the storm. She’d seen a movie once of a woman who had ridden out a hurricane in a tiny oceanfront bungalow. She’d finally emerged, two nail-gripping hours later, dirty and bruised but grateful to be alive. That, Paige thought, was exactly how she’d felt ten years ago. Hurricane Mommy had wreaked havoc on her life for seventeen long years and then...
“I heard a band goes on at seven thirty,” Paige said, eager to lighten her mood.
Charlie tipped his head toward a small stage at the edge of the bar. A few musicians milled about, setting up equipment, as a microphone powered on. “Oh, yeah? How do you handle yourself on the dance floor?”
“It’s been a long time. I’ll probably surprise the both of us.” Dancing? Paige thought. Had she ever?
He grinned. “I would have taken you for a dance kid. You know...the ones who take lessons six days a week.”
Her mother certainly hadn’t been a dance mom, that was for sure. She hadn’t had the desire to shuttle a kid around to frivolous ventures like dance classes or dentist appointments or...school.
“Maybe you were the dancer,” she said. “You look like you have a strong build for dance.”
“Checking out my build, were you? I’m very flattered.”
“No,” Paige said, fumbling as her cheeks flushed. “I was only saying...well, you do have a strong build.”
He laughed hard, making her cover her eyes with her hands in embarrassment for a moment. When she reemerged, his lopsided grin widened.
“I played sports growing up, but in recent years I’ve found other interests.”
“Such as giving tours?”
“Ah, you remember,” he said sadly. “If only I still was. The tour guide business was a good fit for me.”
“Why do you say that?”
Where the Heart May Lead Page 4