Fish Perfume (Cozy Harbor Marina Series)

by Sammie Grace

  Table of Contents

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  EPILOGUE

  About the Author

  Fish Perfume

  A Romantic Comedy

  by

  Sammie Grace

  Copyright © 2012 Sammie Grace

  All Rights Reserved

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Illustration by Mike Stricklin/stricklinstudio

  This book is dedicated to my mom.

  I love you and miss you every day.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to thank Carol McCune, Cathy Wareham and Laura Harris for all of their enthusiasm and support. Huge thanks to my beautiful gang of Philly girls who have been there for me for decades through life’s ups and downs. Thank you to my book club girls in Rhode Island for all their wonderful thoughts and suggestions. A special thank you to my husband who is my biggest fan no matter what I do. You’re the best.

  A warm thank you goes out to you. Thank you for taking the time to read my book. I hope you enjoy it.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Three days ago was the last day of school. I teach ninth-grade Social Studies at Girls Catholic High School, otherwise known as the Whore House on the Hill. As an alumna myself, I personally feel it is unfairly nicknamed. It’s not that much of a hill.

  Once again, I’d lined up a summer job at the local garden center and, on my days off, I planned to visit the Jersey shore as much as possible with my friends.

  I wiggled out of my shorts, ready to jump in the shower, when the phone rang.

  “Meggie, is that you?”

  I recognized my grandmother’s New England accent at once.

  “Of course it’s Meggie, Gram. How are you?”

  “Good, honey, but I need a big favor.”

  Hmmmm…Gram asking me for a favor.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Well, I know you probably already have plans for the summer, but I was wondering if you would like to come up to Rhode Island and run the marina for me.”

  I had to sit down on my bed as thoughts of Gram being sick swirled through my head. My heart leaped into my throat. I choked out, “Are you sick?”

  “No, darling. I’m fine. I just want to take a nice long vacation out west.”

  “Of course, I’ll come if you need me but can’t you find someone more qualified?”

  “You’ll be fine,” Gram reassured me. “You’ve been up here enough over the years to know how I operate things. It’ll be a piece of cake for a smart girl like you.”

  She went on to tell me about the marina and whom to ask for help if I needed it. I was half listening as my mind reeled with thoughts of all the things I could screw up. Then I heard her say, “I’m leaving tomorrow. When do you think you can be here?”

  “I have to close up the house and pack. I could be there the day after tomorrow.”

  “Great, honey. I’m sorry it’s short notice, but I just made up my mind today. I’m afraid if I don’t get out of Dodge soon, I’ll never go.”

  “Gee, Gram, I wish I could be there tomorrow to see you before you leave.”

  “I’m leaving you plenty of notes and I’ll be in touch. Bye, sweetie, and thanks.”

  Before I could say another word, Gram hung up and panic took over.

  Gram never left during the summer when her marina was in full swing. I knew why she asked me. I’m the only family member left in the country. My parents were in New Zealand visiting my brother Charlie, a travel writer. My other brother, Jack, a merchant marine, was at sea. I knew I had to be her last choice since I’m not the most organized person in my family.

  The marina is in the quaint seaside community of Cozy Harbor, Rhode Island. When I was a kid, my family would visit Gram every summer for several weeks. I can’t believe I hadn’t been up to Gram’s in six years.

  As soon as I got over the shock of Gram’s phone call, I called my friends to inform them of my unexpected change in plans. They insisted we go out for a good-bye dinner the following evening. We met at one of our favorite hangouts, Maggie McFee’s. Since I’d been packing all day and running late, I threw on a pair of beige capris and a white shirt, dusted my cheeks with some blush, put on a little mascara and some lipstick, and jumped in the car.

  I walked in the door to find the bar packed. I looked at the large TV screen behind the bar and instantly knew why—the Phillies were playing. I looked around and spotted Laura and Helen sitting at a round table across from the bar. When I got to the table, Helen whined, “I can’t believe you’re leaving us for the summer.”

  I threw up my hands and said, “I don’t really have a choice. I couldn’t say no to Gram. I’m going to hit the highway early tomorrow morning.”

  Laura, always the positive one, said, “I think it will be good for you, Meggie. You’ve been in a rut since Jimmy the Rat Bastard did the unthinkable.”

  Yeah, a rut after the rat, I thought to myself. You’d think after three years of dating, he’d be ready to make a commitment, but instead he wanted a break. While I’ve spent the last six months wallowing in misery, I heard he’s happily dating a girl named Barbie he met at a bachelor party. She probably jumped out of the cake. Thanks to Helen and Laura, who ran into them at the mall, I learned Barbie had a big nose, big hair, a big mouth, and a really huge ass.

  I just can’t picture Jimmy with someone like that. I’m not beauty queen material, but people have told me I’m pretty. I have blue eyes and straight, thick, copper-red hair that sits just below my shoulders. My parents said that when I was born, my hair stood straight up in spikes as if I came out scared to death. The doctor swore he never saw so much hair on an infant. My mother claims it was sticking up because she had read a couple of Stephen King novels when she was pregnant. I’m 5’4” tall, and a size 6 or 8, depending on how many potato chips I ate last week. I wish I could say I was tall and willowy with large voluptuous breasts, but I’m just an average height and weight, with small to medium boobs. I thank God every day for the Miracle Bra.

  The waitress came to take our orders. When she left, I said, “I think getting away will be good for me, too. I’ve been feeling a little lost lately. Not just the Jimmy thing either. I’m not too crazy about my job anymore, and I’m disgusted with the dating scene.”

  Laura said, “It can’t be that bad. There are plenty of good guys out there.”

  “Easy for you to say; you met your Mr. Wonderful in fifth grade,” I said.

  Laura was the homebody of the group
. She and Danny dated for years, then got married right after college. She immediately spit out two adorable boys one after the other.

  Helen chimed in. “The last date I was on, I was so bored I felt like I was going to slip into a coma. He just never shut up. It took him forever to get to the point of what he was trying to say. I just wanted to scream at him and say, ‘SHUT UP AND GIVE ME THE CLIFF NOTES!’ I decided he was toast halfway through our date.”

  Beautiful, super-smart, and more self-confident than most, Helen was a force to be reckoned with. She says she doesn’t have balls; she has something better—breasticles. At 28, she was one of the top engineers at her civil engineering firm. For the past two years, she’d been working on a new sports complex being built in Philly. Unfortunately, as smart as she is at work, her personal life, mainly her love life, was always high drama. She plowed through boyfriends like Sherman went through Georgia. Helen always says the world is full of old boyfriends. What she doesn’t say is most of them are hers. Men don’t know what to make of Helen because she intimidates the shit out of them. The guys at work call her Hell-n-Back, because by the time she’s done with them, they feel like they went to guess where and back.

  Laura asked her, “Any new prospects on the horizon?”

  Helen laughed and said, “No. I’ve been so busy with this project at work; I’ve barely had time to do my laundry. When it’s over, though, I’m going on a manhunt. I want a McDreamy or McSteamy like on that show ‘Grey’s Anatomy’. I want him just for a weekend of hot, sweaty, uninterrupted sex.”

  We all laughed. I said, “If you find him, see if he has a McBrother or a McCousin for me. I’m taking a break from men, but I would make an exception for a McAnything. While in Rhode Island, I’m going to run the marina, take walks on the beach and do some soul-searching and figure out what I really want to do with my life.”

  Laura said to Helen, “You should fix her up with that Mr. McBoring you just dumped.”

  The waitress delivered our meal and I was enjoying my delicious, messy buffalo chicken sandwich when I noticed Laura’s eyes grow wide. I turned around to see what caught her attention. I almost choked when I saw Jimmy the Rat Bastard walking through the bar with a beautiful strawberry blonde. I haven’t seen him since we broke up. My hand shook as I took a drink of beer to wash down the chicken that had stuck in my throat. I felt a presence beside me and looked up to find Jimmy standing next to me. He had a smug smile and I wanted to reach up and slap it right off his face. Of course, I would never do anything like that, but, boy, it was tempting. Sometimes being a nice girl is a bitch.

  He glanced around the table and said, “Hi, girls.” He then looked back at me and said, “Meggie, you have some kind of sauce on your face.” Barbie started to giggle and he draped his arm around her and said, “See you around, ladies,” and strolled off toward the restaurant section.

  Mortified, I picked up a napkin from the center of the table and wiped my face. I then turned my anger toward my friends. “Why didn’t you tell me I had sauce on my face?”

  Laura said, “We didn’t get a chance. He made a beeline for our table the minute he saw you. What an asshole!”

  I put my hands over my face, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me. “I knew I should’ve ordered a salad,” I moaned.

  Helen said, “Yeah, but then with your luck, you would have had lettuce in your teeth.”

  That’s when I got mad. “You both lied to me. You said Barbie had a long nose, big hair, and a huge ass. The only thing big about her was her boobs.”

  Helen said defensively, “Her ass is too big.” She turned to Laura. “Don’t you think she has a big ass?”

  Laura nodded and said, “Huge is the word I would use. No, humongous. I actually feel sorry for her. She has a JLo butt times three.”

  Helen nodded in agreement. “You need to get another look at her, Meggie.”

  I muttered, “No wonder he dumped me. He went to boob heaven.”

  Helen looked over her shoulder and said, “At least he and the Barbette are sitting in the other room. Also, did you notice he didn’t even introduce her? If I were Barbie, I’d think that was really rude. Meggie, you’re always selling yourself short. You are ten times hotter than her. You don’t need a ton of makeup or flashy clothes. Barbie had about five pounds of makeup on and her clothes were two sizes too small. You’re a natural beauty. You’ve got it all over her.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, right.”

  Laura said, “Personally, I’ve always been really jealous of you, Meggie.”

  I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. I may not have a boyfriend at the moment, but I sure had great friends who support me through thick and thin and rat bastards.

  Helen flagged down the waitress and ordered another round.

  * * * * *

  Connecticut has to be the road construction capital of the world. My old Volvo wagon valiantly battled the trucks for position on I-95, but the drive from Philly to Rhode Island is not for the squeamish. I’m glad I had a CD player installed in old Susie so my new favorite band, Three Legged Fox, could keep me company.

  Between the traffic, all the coffee I drank, and a slight hangover, my nerves were shot. Not to mention the fact that I’m terrified I’ll destroy Gram’s marina within the first few minutes of my arrival. I just know some catastrophe will happen on my watch. A hurricane, an earthquake, or the fuel dock will blow up, and all the boats and docks will burn in a big ball of fire. I thought I was just a loser magnet, but my brothers say I’m a disaster magnet.

  I guess I’ve given them some good-enough reasons to think that over the years. Like the time in high school when I volunteered to feed the neighbors’ fish while they were on vacation. They had a large aquarium with all kinds of rare tropical fish. The neighbors had only been gone three days when I went over to feed the fish. I looked at the tank and couldn’t see so much as one swimming around. Did someone break into the house and take the fish? Who the heck would steal fish? Then I noticed the top of the tank and saw the once-colorful, lively fish all floating belly up. I ran home crying, devastated that I’d done something wrong. My dad went over, scooped them all out of the tank, and flushed them down the toilet. He assured me repeatedly that it wasn’t my fault. It was a problem with the air hose. The neighbors weren’t too upset with me, although they did say they were glad they put their dogs in a kennel. To this day, I still feel terrible. At the young age of fifteen, I was a murderer.

  My second big disaster happened in college while I was house-sitting for a professor and his wife. I started a load of wash and went to class. The machine overflowed and caused about $500 worth of water damage. Just my luck their appliances were on the second floor.

  I don’t even have to be around for disasters to occur. My poor car has been hit three times, always in parking lots. Every time it happened, I was nowhere near the car. I could go on and on but what’s the point? I guess my brothers are right; I am a disaster magnet.

  Nevertheless, I’m glad to get out of Philly. After last night’s humiliation with Jimmy, I couldn’t wait to see the City of Brotherly Love disappear in my rearview mirror. A change of scenery is just what I need. It’ll help me keep my mind off the male species for a while. Who knows, I might learn some management skills and maybe start a new career.

  I was nervous about running the marina but also excited to get back to Rhode Island. Some of my best childhood memories come from visits there with my family. It’s a little-known vacationer’s paradise.

  Not long after seeing the Welcome to Rhode Island sign, I got off I-95 and meandered my way east to Route 1, then headed north to Cozy Harbor. I could feel the tension in my body fading away as I soaked up the peaceful scenery of the ponds and the rural beauty of the South County area. A few more miles down the road, I took the exit for Cozy Harbor and came to the end o
f this Nightmare from Hell drive. Even though it’d been several years since I’d been there, I knew it would be just as I remembered it. I pulled into the marina parking lot, which was pretty full for a Monday. Most of the vehicles were trucks or SUVs necessary for transporting boating and fishing supplies. The big building at the end of the parking lot was the marina office and store. On the left was Gram’s cottage, and on the right, the big parts and repair shop. Beyond the buildings were the boat docks, the fuel dock, the Snack Shack, and the fish store.

  Although there were a lot of cars in the parking lot, no one was around. Considering the beautiful day, I surmised that everyone must be out on the water. After my six-hour drive, I decided I really needed to unpack the car and get moved into Gram’s cottage as quick as possible. A hot shower and a nap sounded good, too.

  Out of the corner of my eye as I stepped out of the car, I saw a guy walking across the parking lot. He was tall and lean with broad shoulders. God, I love a guy with broad shoulders. He wore tan cargo shorts, a white T-shirt and a navy-blue baseball cap. My gaze followed him up the steps to the store. As he opened the door, he must have sensed my stare because he turned to look at me. The bill of his cap shadowed his face, but I saw his smile and my heart stopped. Just as fast, he proceeded into the store, leaving me gaping. I didn’t even get a good look at him, yet I felt an instant attraction. I’ll be in big trouble if all the guys around here were that good-looking. Here I said I was off men for the summer. I haven’t been here two minutes and I’m hot for the first guy I see.