His words echoed in my head as I watched everyone around me have a good time. I wasn’t backward or foolish, like I thought he saw me. I knew what he thought. He never considered Bethany a serious girlfriend for Alex, no matter how many times I told him otherwise. I’d even talked their relationship up a little more than it actually was in hopes of getting him off the topic of Alex and me dating at some point. Clearly, that tactic hadn’t been successful.
He didn’t even think my claim that Alex was still in love with his dead wife was a valid argument why we shouldn’t be together. The more I told him he was in love with a ghost, the more he mentioned every time he was sure Alex looked at me like he cared or how great we fit together as partners.
Of all people, I would have thought my father would understand how a man might never be able to get over a woman, no matter how long she was gone from his life. Well, whatever my father thought he saw, I still didn’t know if I wanted things between Alex and me to change.
I could never tell my father that, though. He’d just lecture me about all work and no play making me a boring Poppy and then tell me about someone he knew who worked all his life, squirreling money away for that day when he could finally enjoy himself, only to find that when the day to live had finally come, there was no one around to share his life with. Sort of like his own personal version of the grasshopper and the ant story.
So for all he knew, I just hadn’t figured out a smooth way to show Alex how I truly felt. I wasn’t sure I liked him thinking I was some sad woman who cowered every time a man I liked came around, but the alternatives were worse, so pathetic I’d remain.
I kept to the tables area to avoid my father as much as possible, but an hour’s reprieve was all I could get. The baseball game limped to a disappointing ending with much of the bar furious about missed chances in the outfield, and when many customers began to filter out into the night, it became obvious my father wanted to talk.
Keeping my back to the bar, I wiped down each table as it emptied and collected the empty beer bottles to throw into the trash. My ears were on high alert, almost as if I knew he’d come back to speak to me at any time.
A tap on my shoulder about fifteen minutes after the game ended told me my time was up. I turned around to see my father standing there with his arms folded across his chest and a look that said he knew I’d been avoiding him.
“What’s up, Dad? Good turnout tonight, don’t you think?”
My chipper greeting didn’t put him off, and he sat down at the table I’d just cleared. “Sit down, Poppy. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you much tonight, so take a break and talk with your good old dad.”
Reluctantly, I joined him and waited for what I assumed would be a father-daughter talk about following my heart. He surprised me by asking about the case instead.
“Has there been any progress on the Lee Reynolds case?”
“The murder case? No, it’s just at the beginning stages,” I answered truthfully, relieved we weren’t going to have to talk about Alex.
“Well, if the beginning is strong, that usually indicates the rest will be.”
I had the distinct impression we weren’t talking about the case at all, in fact. Going the joke route, I stood up and gathered my tray as I said, “Well, thanks for that incredibly general statement, Dad. I’m going to get moving so I can get home early tonight.”
Quickly walking away, I hoped he would take the hint and let sleeping dogs lie, but as he followed me up to behind the bar, I knew I wasn’t going to be that lucky tonight. No, he fully intended on waking those dogs up.
Why I truly didn’t know.
As I tossed away the empty bottles and put the dirty glasses in the sink to be washed, he took a seat at the bar in front of me. “I thought we might talk about something a little less general, actually, honey.”
Everyone around us turned to look at me. Nothing like having your personal life laid out at the bar. I grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the storeroom, hoping he would keep his thoughts to himself until at least we were alone.
Closing the door behind him, I sat down hard on a case of whisky. “I guess I don’t have a choice but talk to you about this, Dad, but do you think we could keep it in the family and not involve every person in the bar? This town already thinks I’m some kind of sad old maid. It doesn’t need to hear how pathetic you think I am because I won’t make a move on Alex.”
My father frowned and sat down beside me on the case of liquor. Taking my hand in his, he said in his very serious Dad voice, “I’m sorry, Poppy. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I looked away, already feeling like this conversation was hitting too close to home. “It’s okay, Dad. Don’t worry.”
“Do you really care what people around town think of you?” he asked like he was surprised to hear what the fellow denizens of Sunset Ridge whispered about me.
I sighed heavily and shook my head. “No. Not really.”
That was the truth. I didn’t really care what people thought of me or my love life. I knew they saw me as what people used to refer to as being on the shelf too long. I didn’t see me that way, though. I knew they also talked behind my back about Jared’s cheating on me and running off with another woman right after asking me to marry him. That still stung, but not for the reason they thought. They saw that as proof that I’d made the wrong choice to stay in town to support my father after my mother died.
The truth was far less admirable. I hated that they talked about that when they thought of me still because I had long suspected that his leaving me for someone else was proof that I wasn’t the kind of woman men truly loved.
“You’re a wonderful person, Poppy. You’re smart and beautiful, and anyone who knows you sees that terrific person you are.”
I turned to see my father’s eyes full of concern for his daughter. “You don’t have to worry, Dad. I don’t think I’m some misfit like people around here do.”
“You know, Alex thinks you’re something special too.”
“Dad, why do you want to talk about this?”
He forced a smile and squeezed my hand. “Because I see two people who clearly enjoy being around each other and think maybe you aren’t seeing it like I am.”
“I like being around Alex. That’s true. I love how his mind works while we’re working on a case. I like that I can add something to our investigations because I think differently than he does. That’s all there is between us, though.”
My father frowned. Shaking his head, he said, “I think you’re wrong. I know you like him, and I’ve noticed he hasn’t been around with Bethany much anymore. Are you sure you aren’t missing something?”
I tweaked him on the tip of his nose. “You’re as bad as the old ladies in town, you know that?”
“Those women have it all over me, and you know it. I’m a rookie compared to them. I just don’t want you to discount him because he was married before.”
I stared at my father in shock. “Is that why you think I don’t want to date him?”
“Well, you’ve mentioned him still being in love with her a few times. What do you call it? Being in love with a ghost? I don’t want you to miss out on something because he has a past.”
Sometimes my father made me chuckle. “I have a past too, Dad, and it’s nothing as honorable as his wife dying young. Trust me.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Poppy. One bad relationship doesn’t mean a person is unlucky at love.”
Unlucky at love. The way he said that reminded me of Lee Reynolds more than myself, so I seized the chance to ask my father what he knew of Sunset Ridge’s latest murder victim. “Dad, did you ever meet Lee Reynolds?”
He nodded slowly. “Your victim? I did. One time at Diamanti’s. It was right after he started getting big at the WXSN with his morning talk radio show.”
“I never met him and I only listened to his show once or twice, but his wife told us he was nothing like the kind of person he was on air.”
My father stood from our seat on that case of whisky and grabbed a bottle of water. Silently offering me one, he said, “I didn’t share his brand of politics, but it wouldn’t surprise me that he wasn’t that person we heard on the radio in real life. How could he be? He spent four hours a day basically screaming at people for their opinions. Nobody could act like that in their real life.”
“What was he like when you met him?” I asked, curious about this man who engendered such strong emotions every morning.
Looking off in the distance, my father thought about my question for a moment and turned to smile at me. “He was really nice, to be honest. I don’t know if I expected him to be that abrasive person I’d heard on the radio, but I can say he was nicer than I thought he’d be.”
“How did it happen? Was he sitting at the bar over there and you two happened to strike up a conversation?”
“He was eating dinner and I saw him sitting alone two tables over. He smiled and nodded, sort of a single man’s camaraderie from one to another, and he asked me if I’d like to share a meal with him.”
“Really? I would’ve never guessed that morning shock jock could ever be that genteel and nice.”
I liked hearing Lee Reynolds wasn’t just a raving radio guy or even the two-timing husband Alex was sure he was. It was nice to hear he had shown my father the side of him Jessica Reynolds had said existed in her husband.
“He remembered me from the bar one night when a fan got a little too friendly. I had to admit to him I’d totally forgotten that night. We enjoyed a dinner of some laughs and good food, and that was it. We never spoke again after he left me sitting there with thanks for a wonderful time.”
“Did he do the whole celebrity thing and pick up the check or buy a round of drinks for the entire restaurant?”
My father broke out into laughter. “I believe he did pay for my dinner, but there was no big show of money to buy a round for everyone there. I don’t think celebrities really do that, Poppy.”
“Maybe not. I’ve never met a celebrity, so everything I know about them is from TV and movies.”
“I don’t know if I’d call Lee Reynolds a celebrity, to be honest. He just seemed like an ordinary single guy out for a dinner alone. Nobody approached him for an autograph or anything like that.”
The locals had a way of making the most unsuspecting folks near-celebrities in Sunset Ridge, so I was surprised Lee hadn’t been besieged by people every time he left his house. His station manager had said he was just a regular guy in real life, so maybe that was why he didn’t do the whole celebrity thing.
“Do you and Alex think it was an angry fan who killed him, Poppy?”
I shook my head as what we’d learned about his murder so far ran through my brain. “No, not as of now. So far, all we have is a guy in his forties who may have angered a lot of people but no real evidence to show any of them moved past being angry to actually killing him.”
“That’s too young to be taken from the world, no matter what I thought of the opinions he gave on the radio.”
If Lee Reynolds was too young, what did that make Jessica Reynolds, who was barely my age?
“Did you ever meet his wife?”
“No. I know from talk around town he married two times and his second wife was pretty young compared to him. I think he was single when I had dinner with him that night.”
I remembered how briefly Lee had been single between wife number one and wife number two. “That would be almost impossible since he was only legally single for a couple weeks between divorcing his first wife and marrying Jessica.”
A slow grin spread across my father’s mouth. “Ah. You don’t have to be a detective to figure that out. Sounds like Mrs. Reynolds number two was the mistress when he was married to Mrs. Reynolds number one.”
“Any idea what the first Mrs. Reynolds looked like? Did you ever see her around town?”
“No, but I remember hearing that his first marriage ended on bad terms and he had to pay her a substantial amount in the divorce.”
Unsure of how true that rumor was, I asked, “How likely is it he’d return to the first wife for an affair then?”
My father shook his head definitively. “That seems unlikely, don’t you think? A man has to give a woman half in a divorce after he possibly cheated on her, and then he goes back to her? Something doesn’t fit there.”
Standing from the liquor case, I walked over to the door and poked my head out of the storeroom to see McGuire’s was all but empty, except for a few stragglers at the other end of the bar. Urging my father to join me, I walked out with him following and poured myself a glass of scotch.
“I think you’re right, Dad. That idea doesn’t work if they had a bad breakup.”
My father looked around and leaned toward me to whisper, “I still think you’re missing a golden opportunity with Alex, Poppy.”
“I see you’re not going to give up on this, so let me set your mind at ease, Dad.” I took a swig of my drink and let it slide down my throat before I continued. “I admire Alex because I think he’s a great detective, and I do admit we work well together. There’s nothing romantic between us, though, and I think it will likely stay that way.”
I looked away, unsure I could control my expression as I said that. I didn’t want things to remain purely platonic with Alex forever, but too much about him and about us together made me confused. My father didn’t need to know that, though.
“He likes you, Poppy. I think he may like you for the same reason you admire him. He likes your mind.”
A chuckle bubbled up from inside, and I turned back toward my father. “There’s nothing a woman likes to hear more than a man likes her for her mind. At least you didn’t go with the idea of me having a great personality.”
“You know what I meant. Of course you’re beautiful and have a great personality. Those things are a given. But not every man wants a woman who challenges him. I think he does, though.”
It was useless to spend time trying to convince my father of the reality of how much Alex likely didn’t see me as a woman he wanted. All this talk about him was moot anyway. If I knew anything, it was this. Alex was still in love with a ghost, even if he was seeing Bethany from time to time.
And I wanted no part of being in love with a man who couldn’t leave his past.
I tipped my glass to swallow the last of the scotch and set it back down on the bar. Patting my father on the shoulder, I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Dad. I know you’re always in my corner.”
“You know, Alex has come in a few times in the past couple weeks, and although he’s never said anything, I had a feeling he was looking for you.”
God bless him, he never gave up. “Dad, he knows where I live. He could just as easily come over. I think you’re reading into things like a teenage girl.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Time will tell, I guess.”
“Yeah, go with that. For now, I’m going to do my clean up and then head home.”
“If you’re not willing to believe me about Alex, then will you believe me about the guy sitting at a table in the corner who’s checked you out at least four times since we came out of the storeroom?”
I looked at my father, confused as to whether he’d been taken over by the spirit of one of my friends hell bent on setting me up with a man. “What?”
He moved his head to indicate where the guy sat, and I looked around him to see a very attractive man with slightly tousled dirty blond hair and great cheekbones staring at me. He smiled and raised his glass, so I smiled back. Maybe my father wasn’t wrong about this one.
The man’s gaze never wavered from mine, and after a few long moments of staring at one another, he smiled and waved me over. For a second, I stood frozen to the floor, as if I couldn’t move toward him or away from him. Then something inside me said I should at least walk over and say hi. It was the polite thing to do, and he was very easy on the eyes.
He stood as I appro
ached him, and I saw he was tall, at least six foot, and lean. He had a sexy way about him that made him look more comfortable in his skin than anyone I’d ever met before. I instantly liked that about this man.
Extending my hand to introduce myself, he took it in his and I felt his strength touch me. Before I could say a word, he spoke and his voice felt like silk sliding over my skin.
Oh, I liked this man. At least I knew Alex wasn’t the only cute guy in town.
Chapter Four
After tossing and turning all night, I awoke before sunrise and immediately began hectoring myself about how lame I was. I’d had the chance to talk to a good looking man who was obviously interested in me, and what did I do? I ran away.
Really.
He began to speak to me and I made some weak excuse about having to clean the bar and bolted from the scene.
His name was Jack. The most recent man I’d succeeded in avoiding any chance with. I liked knowing his name. It added a certain realness to the story of my pathetic romantic life.
I cringed at my behavior and rolled over to cover my head with a pillow. A perfectly good man approached me and I fled like a scared chicken. That was me. Scared chicken. I felt embarrassed and ridiculous at the same time.
This wasn’t always who I’d been. In high school, I dated lots of guys. Rarely did I have a Friday or Saturday night without plans with some boyfriend. Then I went off to college and my romantic life rolled on just as it always had. Dates were never in short supply, and life was good.
Then came Jared. Nothing like finding out the man you think you’re going to spend the rest of your life with is cheating on you with the mousy grocery checkout girl at Savings King everyone was sure would be an old maid. Then there’s nothing like calling off your engagement to said man of your dreams who turned into a nightmare, cancelling the wedding that you’d proudly invited nearly two hundred guests to so they could share the biggest day of your life, and finally watching that same man run off not five days later to marry that shrew.
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