by Melody Grace
“Dad—”
“I’m not selling,” Frank repeated. “End of story.” He kept bustling at the stove, like nothing had happened. Like Reeve hadn’t put his whole life on hold, and run himself ragged trying to keep his father from winding up broke, without a roof over his head.
“For Christ’s sake, won’t you listen to me for once in your stubborn life?” Reeve exploded. He pushed back his chair with a screech, rising to his feet. “The vineyard won’t belong to you, either, not at the rate you’re going. If I hadn’t paid off the overdue mortgage payments, the bank would have already taken it! You’ll be left with nothing, do you understand? Nothing!”
But Frank just folded his arms stubbornly. “I understand you think you’re helping here, but you’re wrong.”
Reeve had to clench his fists at his sides. Frustration burned, hot in his veins. Why couldn’t the old man see sense?
“You’re a fool,” he spat angrily. “You destroyed our family for this damn place, and now you’re set on destroying your own life, too. Why can’t you wake up and see what’s right in front of you?”
Frank gave him a measured look. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Reeve demanded.
“Where’s Jules?” Frank asked. Reeve flinched.
“That’s none of your damn business.”
He walked out, but even after Reeve got in the truck and drove away, tires spinning on the gravel road, leaving the vineyard in his rearview mirror couldn’t shake the furious itch in his bloodstream.
Who the hell was Frank to tell him anything?
His father had been stubbornly clinging to the past for years, letting his marriage fail and his children become strangers rather that admit he was wrong.
Reeve was nothing like him.
He couldn’t be.
* * *
Reeve drove around for an hour, until the anger beating in his chest had faded to plain weariness. He was ravenous by now, but he didn’t want to risk running into Jules anywhere in town, so he detoured up the Cape to Provincetown to grab a deli sub and lose himself on the bustling streets, packed with tourists out soaking up the summer sun.
He checked his phone as he walked, glancing at emails he’d been ignoring for weeks. Whatever Frank decided, Reeve knew he wouldn’t stick around to help again. He would be getting on the road again soon, back to California, and then wherever his clients needed. Blake Callahan was interested in adding a rosé to his line, an old-school rock star was eyeing an investment in a vineyard out in Bordeaux… There was plenty of work to be done, and travel, too. But checking over the proposals, Reeve couldn’t feel his usual excitement. Instead, the thought of another year of hotels and long-haul flights made him want to lie down and take a nap.
This summer was the longest he’d spent in one place for years, and despite the way it had all turned out, there was something to waking up in the same bed every morning, and learning the local bartender’s name long enough for him to have your regular drink poured when you walked in the door.
Maybe it was time for him to get a little more settled, Reeve wondered. Sign a lease out in Los Angeles, buy some furniture. Cut back on all the travel and actually stick around for a while.
But still, the idea didn’t ease the knot that sat tightly behind his ribcage, and when he turned the corner and saw a familiar flash of dark hair across the packed street, he knew why.
Jules.
She was walking with her friend, Evie, carrying massive brown bags of takeout food. Her eyes were hidden behind her sunglasses, but she seemed to be smiling, chatting with Evie as they wound their way through the crowds.
Reeve froze. She was wearing cut-offs and that old college T-shirt she liked to wear in bed. He knew exactly how the fabric felt, slipping off her shoulder.
He knew exactly how her body felt, curled against him, shuddering beneath his touch.
She didn’t see him. She couldn’t have, because they crossed the street, heading in his direction. It wasn’t until he was just a few paces away that Jules looked up, and her steps faltered.
“Hi,” he managed to say, still fighting memories of the two of them together. The way she’d dragged him out to sleep on the beach that night; moon like a halo in her hair as she’d waded into the ocean.
Jules paused. “Hi.”
There was a long silence, and Reeve wished he could see her expression properly, hidden behind the dark glass of her shades. But maybe it was a mercy, since the betrayal in her eyes the last time they spoke still haunted him.
He searched for something to say. “Good food?” he asked at last, nodding to the takeout bags.
“I hope so.” Jules shifted. “It’s a new place. We came because we thought… ” she trailed off, and Reeve realized she’d stayed away from Sweetbriar Cove for the same reason he had. To avoid a painful encounter like this.
Some plan that had turned out to be.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said, feeling guilty. “Avoid town, I mean. You won’t have to worry about running into me. I’ll be gone soon.”
“Oh.” Jules fell silent again, and sliced at Reeve’s heart. How could they have gone from easy conversation and midnight laughter to this? This stilted, empty space where their effortless connection used to be.
Because he’d made it this way.
His guilt pounded louder than his hangover now. “Let me know if you need to use me as a reference for anything,” he found himself saying, trying think of something—anything—that would make up for the pain he’d caused. “The stuff you did for the vineyard’s social media, I mean. For jobs.”
“A reference?” Jules repeated, her voice twisting in disbelief.
Damn. Reeve cursed himself. Couldn’t he do anything right?
“I just meant—”
“I know what you meant.” Jules seemed to straighten. “And thanks for the thought. I’ll be sure to keep it in mind.” Her voice was laced with bitterness, and he couldn’t blame her.
Evie stepped in. “We have to get going,” she said, shooting Reeve a look that was half pity, half disdain. “See you around, Reeve,” she said, and then steered Jules away.
In a moment, they were lost in the crowd.
And Reeve wished he hadn’t drunk all the whiskey in the house last night. Because damn if he didn’t need it more than ever now.
Jules managed to keep it together during the ride back to the Beachcomber, but the minute they pulled up out front, she mumbled an excuse to Evie and begged off their planned afternoon of post-breakup activities.
“I know we were going to watch some movies and eat junk food, but I think I just need some time alone,” Jules said, climbing out of the car.
“Are you sure?” Evie asked, looking concerned, but luckily, a group of guests arrived back from their hike, and distracted her with their questions about dinner reservations, leaving Jules to grab her food and sneak off back to her studio.
Where she stayed. Hiding out, crying over Reeve.
For the next twenty-four hours.
What else was she supposed to do? Seeing him there in the middle of the crowded sidewalk, sun in his tousled hair and stubble on his cheeks, it had been more than Jules could stand. Her heart ached to be so near, all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and bury her head against his chest, in the spot that seemed like it was made to fit her.
But everything had changed.
He could barely even look at her, he was so tense and awkward. And offering to give her a reference? It had cut Jules to the core. Like their relationship had been purely business for him.
Like she didn’t know the way he felt.
Jules couldn’t believe it. Everything she remembered about their time together felt like a lie. Had she been the only one to care? She couldn’t bear to run the risk of seeing him again—or face the sympathetic looks from everyone once they found out it was over. So, she didn’t. She stayed locked away in her little shed
of despair, ignoring Evie’s concerned knocks and calls, watching old episodes of cooking shows on her laptop, and emerged only to sneak into the Inn to raid the refrigerator for snacks the next afternoon when she figured her friend wouldn’t be around.
But Evie was sneaky. Jules forgot about that.
“Aha!” Evie exclaimed, jumping out of the pantry. Jules let out a yelp.
“How long have you been hiding in there?”
“I was just getting coffee. But I knew you had to come out of your pit of despair sooner or later!”
“I’ve been out!” Jules lied.
Evie raised an eyebrow, and Jules deflated. “I’ve thought about going out,” she admitted. “I just can’t face anyone just yet.”
“Aw, babe,” Evie came closer, and swept her up in a hug. “I’ve been worried about you. We all have.”
Jules groaned. “Let me guess, my breakup is the number-one news all over town.”
“People care, that’s all,” Evie reassured her. “Summer even sent me away with extra sticky buns. See?” She pulled a box from the pantry, “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” she added. “But you should breathe in some fresh air. See the sun. You have that same glazed look in your eyes you did back when we were studying for finals, and you didn’t leave the library in a week.”
“I still say washing in the ladies bathroom with paper towels and cold water totally counts as personal hygiene,” Jules grumbled, but she didn’t protest. There was only so long she could spend cooped up in that shed watching Biscuit Week without hitting rock bottom.
She followed Evie out to the back porch, and took a seat beside her, looking out across the bay. The summer breeze was blowing gently over the sands, tourists lay out in the sun, and the waves crashed rhythmically against the shore. It was a glorious day, but somehow, that only made Jules feel worse.
Her heart was broken, but nothing else had changed.
“Eat,” Evie said, pushing the bakery box towards her.
Jules didn’t argue. She nibbled on a sticky bun, trying very hard not to look at the patch of sand where she and Reeve had spent the night together.
“Reeve looked terrible the other day, didn’t he?” Evie asked, clearly trying to cheer her up. “Bloodshot. Like he hadn’t slept. And did you catch a whiff? The man desperately needed a shower.”
“Nice try,” Jules managed a weak smile. Thank god for sunglasses. At least then, Reeve hadn’t seen her own red, puffy eyes from the sleepless night she’d spent in tears. “But that man could roll around in a pigsty and still make my heart stop.”
Evie wrinkled her lip. “You really did have it bad for the guy.”
Jules paused, feeling a lump in her throat. She’d thought she was all cried out, but clearly she was wrong. “I was falling in love with him,” she admitted quietly.
“Oh Jules... ” Evie squeezed her hand. “You never said.”
“Because I knew what you’d think, that I was just rebounding into the next guy, like I always do.” Jules wiped her eyes. “But it was different with Reeve. I know it was fast, but... We had a connection, right from the start. We fit together. I never felt that way with anyone before,” she said, an ache slicing though her all over again.
“It was like that with Noah,” Evie said softly. “I couldn’t explain it. We just... fit.”
But Evie had Noah, to hold, and laugh with, and to take to bed every night.
Evie saw her welling up again. “What can I do?” she asked, full of sympathy. “Do you want me to make you some real food, and talk about it some more?”
But Jules shook her head. “I need to forget about him, just for a moment,” she said. “Otherwise I’ll go crazy, wishing I could have done something differently.”
Evie paused for a moment, thinking. Then she smiled. “I know just what you need.”
* * *
What Jules needed turned out to be tequila shots, cupcakes, and broken pottery, at the girls’ night. They arrived to find a whole group hurling ceramics at the wall in the backyard of Mackenzie’s studio.
“You made it!” Cassie cheered, and the quick look she exchanged with Evie made it clear that she knew all about Jules’ heartbreak.
Jules was glad. She didn’t want to explain things all over again, not when her heart was still so raw, and she didn’t even have a good explanation for the breakup, besides Reeve letting her go.
Besides, he just didn’t want to be with her enough.
“Here,” Cassie took her arm and steered her over to the makeshift bar cart by the porch. “Take one of these.” She handed Jules a shot glass of tequila. “And one of these.” She put a cracked plate in her other hand. “Now, go ahead—”
CRASH.
Jules jumped. A bowl exploded against the far wall, fragments shattering into pieces on the heap of broken crockery already piled around.
“It’s my version of therapy,” Mackenzie explained cheerfully. “I store up all the cracked, broken pottery, and save them for when I really need a break. Go ahead.” She gestured for Jules to take the next spot. “And no gentle throws either, tap into all your frustrations and let rip.”
Jules swallowed back the tequila with a wince, as Rose stepped up and hurled a cracked dish at the wall. And then another.
Jules paused, watching her. “Everything OK with Scott?” she ventured, when Rose returned to grab a drink.
“No.” Rose made a face. “Well... He was supposed to come over last night, but he kept me waiting, and then texted that he couldn’t make it. When I’d been waiting around in my cutest lingerie,” Rose added, rueful. “But what am I saying? You don’t want to hear about this.”
Jules did. She would have welcomed any distraction from her own wreck of a romantic life, but Rose quickly changed the subject, to the mystery man who had called in a big bouquet order for Aunt June, and the big peach festival next month.
Then it was her turn to throw. Jules stepped up, and tossed her first misformed plate at the wall.
It barely cracked.
“Put your back in it!” Mackenzie called encouragingly. So Jules hurled the next one harder.
CRASH!
The group cheered. “Doesn’t that feel better?” Evie asked, laughing.
Jules hurled another plate. And another. But after the first destructive thrill, it didn’t feel right. The problem was, she couldn’t be angry with Reeve. Not really. He hadn’t lied to her, or led her on.
He just hadn’t loved her enough to plan a future together.
As Jules lifted another bowl, her phone began to ring. She put the pottery down and checked the caller ID. “It’s them… ” she said, blinking in surprise. “Sojourn magazine.”
Evie’s eyes widened.
“It’s been forever since I applied,” Jules said quickly, before her friend could get carried away. “They’re probably just calling to tell me better luck next time.”
“You don’t know that. Go answer!” Evie cried.
As someone hurled another plate at the wall, Jules made her way inside to escape the noise. It was probably nothing, she told herself. With all her heartbreak over Reeve, she’d forgotten about the job. But they wouldn’t have left her waiting so long if she’d actually got the job.
Would they?
She found a quiet spot in Mackenzie’s studio and answered, her stomach tied up in knots.
“This is Jules.”
“Hi Jules, this is Susanna, with Sojourn? I just wanted to call and say congratulations, we absolutely loved your portfolio, and think you would be a great fit with our team.”
Jules stood there, stunned. “I got it?” she repeated.
Susanna laughed. “You got it. We’d love to offer you the social media manager position, if you’re still available. I’ll be sending an email with our official offer package, but I just wanted to talk about a little change of plans.”
“I can work with change,” Jules said quickly, the news still sinking in. “I’m very flexible.”
Susanna laughed again. “I hope so. See, I know the job was listed as being based in Boston, but… We’re actually in the process of merging with the main office in Chicago.”
Jules paused. “Chicago?” she repeated.
“That’s right. It’s a great city, tons to do, so I’m hoping you’re open to relocating and joining us there.”
Jules’ mind raced. “But… Since it’s a digital position, could I maybe work remotely?” she asked.
“We’d really prefer to have you in-house with the team,” Susanna replied. “If this is a deal-breaker for you, I’d understand.”
“No, no… ” Jules protested weakly. “I just… Can I have some time to think about it?”
“Of course. Maybe we can set up a visit, so you can see the office in action here? I’m sure you’ll fall in love with the city if you give it a chance.”
Jules promised to set something up by email, and hung up, her head still spinning.
Chicago?
She’d lived in Boston since college. She’d never thought about moving; all her applications had been local.
And how had that worked out for her?
Jules drifted back outside, where Evie immediately pounced. “Well? What did they say? Did you get the job?”
Jules nodded, and Evie let out a shriek! “I knew it! This is amazing news… but why aren’t you happier?”
“I am, it’s just… ” Jules explained about the relocation, and Evie winced.
“As much as I don’t want you to ever leave me, you should still go and check it out,” she said. “You have to. It’s such a great opportunity.”
Jules knew it was. It was her dream job, she’d fought to even be considered, and it was probably way out of her league.
So why didn’t it feel the way she’d thought it would?
“You’ll go, and have an amazing time, and be spring-boarded to success,” Evie declared, chatting a mile a minute about all the cool things Jules would see in the city, until Jules had to cut her off.