by Casey Dawes
The customer paid for her purchase and left. Elizabeth hurried over and embraced her. “What’s up?” she asked.
“Is it that obvious?”
Her friend nodded.
“Nothing much. I’m moving to New Jersey, but other than that … ”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “That’s crazy. Why would you do that?”
Annie played with the blue paisley scarf she still had in her hand, debating how much to tell Elizabeth. “It’s for the best, really. A great opportunity to show them what I can do. Maybe I’ll finally get that bonus I’ve always tried for.”
“You never were a very good liar. Let me close up and you can tell me the truth about what’s really going on.” She took the scarf that dangled over Annie’s arm, clipped off the price tag and wrapped it around Annie’s neck. “It’s yours. Somehow I think you need it.”
“Thanks. That’s sweet. Anything I can help you with?”
“No, it’s faster if I run around and do it myself.”
Elizabeth hit a few keys on the register and ripped off the tape that spewed forth. She disappeared into the back room and re-emerged in a few minutes, pulling a sleek leather jacket around her.
“Brrr,” Annie said buttoning her coat closed as they walked to the restaurant.
“Yep,” said Elizabeth. She picked up the pace.
A minute later, they arrived at Costanoa Grill, their favorite local haunt — at least in the off-season before hordes of tourists descended on the town.
Two adjoining rooms made up the restaurant. A curved redwood bar anchored one corner while potted ficus threaded with twinkling lights provided accents to the stucco-covered walls and red-tiled floors. Behind the bar, a patio nook with intimate tables and a fireplace provided a view of the beach and one of the many coastal rivers.
A willowy waitress with a diamond stud in her nose and a purple streak at the front of her hair detoured to Annie and Elizabeth’s table on her way to the kitchen. “The usual?” she asked.
They nodded.
“Thanks, Mandy,” Elizabeth said.
“On its way.” Mandy scuttled off to rear of the restaurant.
Elizabeth turned to Annie. “Now what’s all this nonsense?”
“I’m being transferred to New Jersey.”
“What if you don’t go?”
“I’ll lose my job.”
“That’s not a transfer, that’s blackmail. Any other options?”
Annie shook her head. “They gave me the severance package yesterday. If I don’t take the job, that’s it.”
“I hope it was a good package. That will give you time to look around here for a new job.”
“I’m not going to look for a new job. I’m going to apply for the transfer. That way I keep all my benefits and my salary. It can’t be too bad in New Jersey.”
The waitress slid the glasses of chardonnay in front of them. “New Jersey?”
“My company is moving me there,” Annie said.
“You won’t like it,” the waitress said as she took out her order pad. “I grew up there. It’s like, totally different from California.”
“But they both have oceans,” Annie said.
“Like, totally different.” Mandy poised her pen over the pad. “What would you ladies like this evening?”
Elizabeth ordered the pasta special. Annie sighed and ordered spinach salad with dressing on the side.
They clinked their wine glasses. “Okay,” Elizabeth said. “Start at the beginning and tell me the whole story.”
Annie took a deep breath and began. She described the scene in Randy’s office, giving Elizabeth the details of her compensation for being laid off.
“Wow,” said Elizabeth. “All that money for not working?”
“It’s not ‘all that money.’ It could last me maybe three or four months if I’m very careful.”
“Still, that would give you enough time to find a job here.”
Annie shook her head. “I’ve thought this all through. The economy’s iffy right now. And I’ve got a lot of seniority at JCN. If I left, I’d lose vacation time, pension, and stock benefits. I’m better off sticking with the company and moving. It’s the practical thing to do.”
“I don’t think you should go.”
Annie twirled the stem of her wine glass. Then she leaned forward. “I really need your support right now. I feel I need to go. I’ve made my decision and nothing is going to change it.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to question your decision. What can I do to help you? What did David say?”
“I haven’t told him.”
“He’s not going to be happy.”
Annie shook her head. “No. But he’ll adapt. Kids do, you know.”
“Not teenagers,” Elizabeth said.
“I’ll make sure he understands that I’m doing this for him. It can’t be too bad,” Annie said and sipped her wine, releasing the taste of buttery lemon into her mouth. “The Atlantic Ocean can’t be that different from the Pacific. We could take in some Broadway shows.” She took another sip. “Maybe a change in job is the jolt my career needs. A promotion would mean more money for David’s college and my retirement.”
“Money isn’t everything,” Elizabeth said.
“It is when you don’t have it.”
“I wish you had more faith that things would turn out okay.”
“I wish I did, too. But in my life, things that are left to chance never turn out well.”
“Annie, it doesn’t have to be that way.”
“It does for me. I’m not you, Elizabeth. I didn’t grow up in a boisterous Italian family with too many siblings and more than enough love. It was me and my mother in Michigan and that’s it.” Annie’s words came out clipped.
“Ouch.”
“I’m sorry,” Annie said. “The uncertainty has me stressed out. Too many years living with Fred, never knowing what was going to happen. Was the call going to be from the police or the hospital? When was he going to be in a fatal accident because he was driving drunk? I need security. Money is security.”
Elizabeth started to say something.
Annie held up her finger to stop her friend from commenting. “I don’t know if you can understand what it’s like not having anyone to depend on. You have a great family. Your dad had a good job and so did your husband. When you grow up without money, things get bad … ” Her voice trailed off. She tried again. “I don’t want to lose my friends,” she said as she looked up at Elizabeth. She could feel her eyes fill with tears threatening to spill from behind her lashes. “This is my home. I love this town and these people. But I won’t go backwards. I won’t.”
She took a tissue from her purse. “Can we stop talking about it?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Sure.” She put her hand on her friend’s arm. “You know, I really admire you, Annie.”
“Why?” Annie dabbed her eyes.
“No matter what happens, you keep moving forward. You know what needs to be done and you do it. You’re so organized about it, too.”
“Want to know the secret?”
“Of course.”
“Lists. I make lists. Then all I have to do is check off what needs to be done. Just like Santa Claus.”
Elizabeth smiled.
Mandy plunked their pasta and salad on the table. “Enjoy,” she said and whirled around to take an order from a nearby table.
Annie dumped the entire container of salad dressing over the greens and sloshed her spinach leaves around the bowl.
“I don’t know why you bother,” Elizabeth said.
Annie looked up quizzically.
“Getting it on the side, I mean. You always put all of it on anyway.”
Annie grinned at
her friend. “I like the illusion that I’m doing the right thing.”
Elizabeth grinned back. “Any new men in your life?”
Annie felt a betraying heat crawl up her neck. She shook her head. “You’re sex-crazed. Me, I’m done with men. I’m never getting involved with one again.”
“You just haven’t found the right one.”
“Yeah, right.” The image of the cowboy rose in her mind. She smiled at the memory.
“So what’s that smile about?”
Annie forked a piece of hard-boiled egg from her salad. “It’s not important. Besides, I’m hungry and this is delicious, as usual.”
“Nice try. Who is he?”
Annie put down her fork. “I went to the bookstore yesterday. The new owner was there.”
“I’ve heard he’s gorgeous. And single.”
“How do you know?”
“I run a beauty store. I hear everything.” Elizabeth filled Annie in on what she’d heard about the new owner of Ocean Reads. Then she moved on to stories of other people in the area. Annie was grateful for the distraction. She didn’t want to think about moving or men.
Elizabeth was in the middle of a story about a young girl who wanted her to wax off all of her eyebrows, when she stopped. “Mmm, mmm,” she hummed, her eyes on the entryway. “I wonder who that is.”
Annie turned to see intense blue eyes focused on her. His smile was broad. She felt the warmth on the back of her neck creep up her cheeks. He put his finger to his forehead as if he was tipping his hat. She waved. And immediately felt ridiculous. She did not need to encourage the man — she was leaving the area. Nonetheless, the warmth stayed in her chest.
“Let me guess,” Elizabeth said. “That must be the new owner of Ocean Reads. The rumors about his looks are definitely true. Let’s invite him to have dinner with us.”
“Oh, no,” said Annie, but her friend was already waving him over.
• • •
John recognized the mass of blond curls and compact figure immediately. He felt the same pull of desire he had when he first saw her staring at him in the bookstore. Tonight Annie had on a green sweater that drew his eyes to the luscious curve of her breasts. When the woman with her waved him over, his heart beat a little faster.
His boots thudded on the stone floor as he followed the hostess to their table.
“Hello, again,” he said to Annie, smiling. Her thick-lashed hazel eyes looked back at him steadily. He forced his gaze to the other woman.
“Hi, I’m Elizabeth,” she said, holding out her hand. “Annie says you’re new in town. Won’t you join us?”
“John Johnson.” He shook her hand. “Thank you for the invitation.” He sat down in the unoccupied chair next to Elizabeth, giving him a good view of Annie. She grinned at him and her smile was beguiling. “Hi,” she said.
“You’re from Montana, right?” Elizabeth asked. “How did you wind up in Santa Cruz?”
“Drove south.”
Annie chuckled at his joke and another loop snaked around his heart. Only Jessica had ever laughed consistently at his stupid jokes.
He turned back to Elizabeth.
“I managed a bookstore in Missoula for about five years. Everyone in the independent book association knows about Ocean Reads. So when it came on the market, I knew it was a great opportunity.”
“California is a long way from Montana,” Annie said.
“It was a big step.”
“How could you leave?”
He sensed there was something behind the question, but he wasn’t sure what. “I took a gamble. Sometimes you have to. You can’t control everything — for some things, you just need to trust that it will turn out okay. You go forward even though you can’t see the ending. An independent bookstore with the reputation of Ocean Reads doesn’t come on the market often. It was an opportunity to make a difference in people’s lives, help them find books that made them think, maybe even change their lives. I had the money — I’d just sold my ranch. I made an offer, the Crawfords accepted, and we hit the road.”
“We?”
“My horse and me.”
“You’re not married?”
“No.” He paused. “I was, but Jessica died a little over three years ago. Cancer.”
“I’m sorry.” Annie rested her hand on top of his and he felt her warmth travel up his arm and touch his heart. He looked into her hazel eyes, staring so intently at him. There was no guile there, simply concern and caring.
“Thank you. She was a wonderful woman, but she’s gone and I’ve gotten used to it, as much as you ever do, I suppose.”
“Any children?” Elizabeth asked.
He shook his head. “We were trying, but then she got sick. I always wanted them; I still want them. It’s in a Montana rancher’s blood — big strapping sons to help out with the work when you get too old to toss bales of hay around.” He laughed at the image in his mind and rubbed his thumb on Annie’s hand.
She snatched her hand away, leaving cold air behind.
A waitress with a purple streak of hair added a place setting to the table. What was it with this area? Couldn’t women leave their hair a natural color? His eyes strayed to Annie’s curls and he wondered if she was a natural blond.
“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll take your order,” the waitress said.
John glanced at the menu and selected the steak special. “Enough about me. Tell me about you.”
Elizabeth spoke up first. “I own a business here in Costanoa — skin care.”
“And you?” John looked at Annie.
“Me?” Her eyes widened and she looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “Um … I’m a project manager.”
John cocked his head. “I’m not sure I know what that means.”
She licked salad oil from her lips and John felt his blood quicken as the tip of her tongue circled her mouth. “It’s a bit like being a mother. You make sure people know what they’re supposed to do and when it’s supposed to be done. Then you make sure they do it.” She leaned forward and grinned. “I’m really good at it.”
“I bet you are.” He drew out the words slowly and smiled.
A red blush crept up her neck.
“How’s your business going?” Elizabeth asked.
He wondered how he could get Annie alone and have a more intimate conversation. “I’ve got my work cut out for me with the bookstore. The Crawfords built an institution, but I think they were getting tired at the end. Maintenance slipped a little and they bought too many books that didn’t sell. It was still in the black when I bought it, but barely. The popularity of Amazon isn’t making it easy.”
“What are you going to do?” Annie asked. Lines of worry crinkled her forehead. She’d be a terrible poker player.
“Fortunately, I’ve got loyal customers.” He grinned. “Like you.”
“I’ll have to prove my loyalty more often,” she said. “Do you spend all your time at the store?” she asked.
“The store, my novel, and the house search take up a lot of time. But I’m sure I could squeeze in one more activity.”
“You’re writing a novel?”
“Not a very good one, I’m afraid. It’s gotten twenty-five rejections from agents so far.”
Her luscious lips turned up in a smile and her eyes focused on his. “I’m sure it’s good. You just haven’t found the right person.”
Were they still talking about agents?
Annie took another bite of salad, once again licking the oil from her lips. He watched, fascinated, until the waitress plunked his plate in front of him.
“Where are you looking for a house?” Elizabeth said. “There’s an agent in town who’s really good at finding the perfect place. Lots of my friends have used Beth Brighton
and they rave about her. I think there’s a stack of her cards on the hostess stand.”
If only he could get Annie alone.
As if she heard him, Elizabeth stood up. “I’ll be right back.” She headed toward the restroom.
“I need to do something,” John admitted to Annie. “I’m living in a dump. And any time I want to see Starfire — that’s my horse — I have to drive from Santa Cruz to Soquel. With the traffic you folks have around here, it can take a long time to get from one place to another.” He cut into his steak. “I took the first thing I could find when I got here, figuring I wouldn’t have to stay in it too long. But with the bookstore — ”
“And the novel,” Annie interjected.
“And the novel,” he added, “I haven’t had time to look.”
“Maybe you should make a list,” Annie said. “Write down what you want in a new place, like number of bedrooms, and give it to a realtor. Finding a home is important — probably more important than other activities you could squeeze in.”
“I don’t know about that. Living alone is hard — no matter how nice your place is. No one to share news with at the end of the day. I suppose I haven’t looked hard for a house because I’d rather complain than face the fact that no matter where I go, I’ll be alone.”
“Sometimes it can be lonely. No one else to depend on. I’m sorry about your wife. You must have loved her very much.”
He looked intently at Annie and longed to take her hand in his, to feel her soft skin next to his again. “You’re right. I loved Jessica a lot, but enough time has passed. I’m ready to date again.” At least, I hope I am.
Leaning forward, he asked, “Would a woman consider house-hunting a real date? I could use someone to show me around.”
A shadow crossed Annie’s face and her smile disappeared. Damn! He’d gone too far too fast.
Chapter 3
Annie had to tell him. Flirting was one thing, but leading him on wasn’t fair.
“Do you work ‘over the hill’?” He picked up his knife and cut another piece of steak. “I love that expression. You can pretend that it’s an easy drive to San Jose, rather than the white-knuckle commute that it is.”