Cottage on Oceanview Lane

by Lilly Mirren

  She heard the words "Some kind of cottage," and "She can't expect…"

  One of the editors looked up and caught her staring. The woman's cheeks flushed pink.

  Sarah's gut clenched. Were they talking about her? She hated office politics. Always had. It wasn't something she'd ever wanted to be part of. She'd avoided it as much as she could while she lived in Sydney, and now she was the subject of the gossip. She hated thinking about all of them huddled together talking about her, her life choices, her home.

  What did they think it would achieve anyway?

  She pressed the end of one finger to her mouth and absently chewed her fingernail. Distracted, she ran into something hard. And tall. Her nose smacked into a firm chest; the manuscript flew from her hands and fluttered to the ground, sheets of paper flying in every direction.

  "Where are you going in such a hurry?" a masculine voice asked’.

  Her gaze travelled up a wide chest, over designer stubble and rested on two bright, blue eyes.

  "Jeremy! What a surprise."

  He sniggered. “I’ll bet. If you'd known I was going to be here, you'd have hidden in the ladies'."

  Her face burned. "No, definitely not, I'm glad to see you. You look good." Her heart beat against her rib cage. Why hadn't anyone told her that her ex-fiancé would be in the office today? Surely that was a juicy piece of gossip that was too hard for them to pass up. They'd discussed Richard the mail guy's hair plugs for ten full minutes; they couldn't mention that Jeremy would be visiting?

  "How long are you in the city?" A dimple played in one cheek, and she was reminded again how charming Jeremy could be when he wanted.

  "I'm here until tomorrow. Right now, I have to go - there's something I need to discuss with Beverley. Sorry I don't have time for a better catch-up." She quickly gathered together all of the papers from the manuscript she had dropped when she collided with him.

  He moved to help, his face so close to hers she could almost feel his breath on her skin. He was good at this part. He knew how to make a woman swoon. But it wasn't going to work this time. She was immune to his charms.

  "Thank you, but you don't have to help. Really, I'm fine."

  He chuckled. "It's the least I could do. Although you probably should learn to watch where you're going. What were you looking at anyway?"

  She picked up the last piece of paper, pressed the mess of sheets to her chest and straightened, her cheeks flushed. He shadowed her movements, pressing his hands to his hips.

  "Nothing." She couldn't tell him she was listening in on the office gossip about herself. It was embarrassing.

  "I'm not sure I believe you, but I'll let it go this time. You always were easier to read than one of my books." He chuckled. He was in a good mood today or at least doing a good job of pretending.

  But she wasn't in the mood to deal with him.

  "Let's have coffee," he said suddenly. "We need a better catch-up than this. I want to hear all about Emerald Cove and how things are going."

  It was exactly what she'd been hoping to avoid. She knew he wanted a chance for the two of them to talk; he'd been calling on and off since she moved to the Cove. She'd been avoiding his calls for just as long. But she knew she couldn't dodge him forever.

  "Okay, coffee."

  He grinned. "Great, I'll text you the details."

  Cindy

  The scent of freshly baked muffins wafted out from beneath the red-and-white-striped cloth that covered a basket hanging from her arm. Cindy puffed a little as she crossed the street with a quick glance to the right and left.

  The muffins were Diana's favourite, and Cindy hoped they would help her broach the subject of happy hour at the cafe. She and Diana Jones had been friends for as long as she could remember. Diana and her husband had bought the bed and breakfast when they were in their thirties and had become neighbours. They'd all celebrated with a bottle of champagne.

  Cindy visited the Manor regularly, glad to have a neighbour she could call on, since she had three young children and didn't get out often. Diana had hoped for a family of her own, but she and Rupert had never been able to fall pregnant, and so she'd helped Cindy to raise her kids.

  To Cindy's children, she was Auntie Diana. And Diana had taken to the role with gusto. There'd been sleepovers at Seaside Manor, birthday parties in its expansive gardens, and once when Adele was thirteen, she'd run to Diana to cry on her shoulder about a boy she liked who didn't like her back. The memory still sparked a little pang of jealousy in Cindy's chest.

  Diana and Rupert were part of their family, and so when Diana had first floated the idea of a collaboration with the cafe - a happy hour for guests - Cindy had jumped at the idea. Now she wasn't sure it was something she could, or should, continue to offer. Although she hated to give it up.

  The building rose like a majestic old lady from the patchy verge. Cindy passed through a white, timber-slatted gate, pulling it shut behind her, even as the scent of pink climbing roses greeted her. They'd bloomed late this year, and already the petals curled at the edges and fell to the footpath at her feet. She leaned forward to inhale the scent and startled when a bee buzzed from inside the flower, almost colliding with her nose.

  With a chuckle, she continued on her way, patting the handle of the wicker basket that swung from her arm. Diana had done a wonderful job of building a cottage-style garden using Australian native plants, like kangaroo paw, wattles and grey myrtle, mixed with clusters of roses, gardenias and hydrangeas. Her garden was the envy of every green thumb in the Cove, and Cindy often peered over the fence to see what Diana was doing, perhaps to learn a tip she could adapt to her own failed efforts to grow roses. Cindy's garden didn't compare with Diana's. Although she liked to potter around weeding, watering and occasionally planting, she preferred something hardy and maintenance free with her busy lifestyle.

  She knocked on the door and waited. This time of day was when Diana stopped work to drink a cup of tea, after a busy morning cooking, serving breakfast to guests, cleaning rooms and making beds.

  Diana answered the door, kissed Cindy's cheek and ushered her inside.

  "Perfect timing," she said. "You're just in time for tea. Would you like a scone with jam and cream? I was about to go to the kitchen for one myself."

  Cindy peeled back the red-and-white-striped cloth that covered her basket. "I made cheesy muffins, those ones you like."

  Diana's brown eyes widened, and the creases across her forehead deepened. "Perfect! I'll get us some plates. Grab a seat in my office, I'll be right back."

  Diana took the basket and hurried towards the kitchen, her sensible heels clacking on the hardwood timber floor as she went. Cindy let herself into the office and sat in one of the two navy velvet occasional chairs in the corner.

  Diana soon returned, this time with a tray that she set on a small, round table between the two chairs. She fell back into her chair with a sigh. "I've had the most horrendous morning."

  Cindy poured tea from a teapot into matching china cups. "Oh dear. What happened?"

  Diana inhaled slowly, pressed a hand to her forehead. "Never mind, I don't want to get into all of that. Suffice it to say that the next time a family of six comes to stay, I'm going to ask to take their temperatures at the door. Vomit and Turkish rugs don't mix well."

  Cindy's eyebrows shot towards the ceiling. "That sounds dreadful. Here, have a cup of tea." She handed one of the cups to Diana, who took it with another sigh.

  "Thank you. And thanks for the muffins, it's as if you knew I'd need a pick-me-up today."

  "Well, aren't we getting a little old for all this…?" Cindy tutted.

  Diana took a bite of muffin and spoke around her mouthful. "Has something happened?"

  "Oh no, I'm only talking about the cafe and the ridiculous New Year's Eve party."

  Diana frowned. "Everyone I've spoken to says it was a raging success. They loved it."

  Cindy set a muffin on a plate and held it in her lap. "I know, it went pe
rfectly well, I suppose. Only… I do think I'm getting a bit old to be hosting parties with live bands until the wee hours. I honestly didn't think I'd still be working in the cafe at my age, I'd hoped one of the kids might take it over. I suppose I should be grateful they've found other things to occupy themselves, I'm not sure I'd want to wish it on them now."

  Diana shook her head. "I sure know what you mean. I'm so tired all of the time. And Rupert's next to no help at all now he's done his shoulder. He sits in our room, watching the television most of the time or playing on that ridiculous iPad I bought him at Christmas. How I regret that gift!" She humphed. "Never mind, I'm not sure what else to do. We haven't saved quite enough to retire, and I'd hate to give the place up to strangers - there's no telling what they might do with it."

  Cindy chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed, savouring the flavour of cheeses and herbs as they slid across her tongue. "I know what you mean, and I'm a little relieved to hear you say it - because I'm hoping you'll understand my predicament…"

  Diana set down her plate on the table and leaned forward, her brow furrowed. "What is it? What do you mean?"

  "You know how I mentioned that Andrew had left me in a bit of a bind?"

  Diana nodded.

  "Well, I wasn't being entirely forthright. You see, it seems he mortgaged the cafe without me knowing…"

  "What?" Diana's eyes widened, and she reached for Cindy's hand to squeeze it. "Oh no, I'm so sorry, honey."

  Cindy shook her head, tears pricking her eyes. It was easy to keep her emotions squared away when she was alone, or busy at the cafe, but with Diana looking at her that way, everything she'd squashed came rushing to the surface. "I'm okay…at least, I think I will be. That's why Sarah came back to the Cove - she's here to help me find a way out of the mess I'm in."

  "I wondered about that… It did seem strange, with everything she'd built in the city, for her to come home all of a sudden, that way. Well, you let me know if there's anything I can do."

  "Now that you mention it," Cindy began with a smile as she blinked back the tears. "That's why I'm here. One of the things Sarah is doing is looking through my accounts to see where I can cut expenses. I'm afraid I might lose the cafe and even the house if things keep going as they are…and so we're trying to figure out why the cafe is haemorrhaging money so badly, given we've got plenty of business."

  Diana's eyes narrowed. "Hmm… That is a quandary."

  "And," Cindy continued, finding her confidence grow as she went. "I noticed at happy hour, there seemed to be an awful lot of guests cashing in on the half-priced drinks and appetisers with their room keys. I hoped we might talk about making a change…"

  "Making a change?" Diana's nose twitched. "I'm fine with that…but first, let's talk about what's going on. I'd like to get to the bottom of it, because it doesn't sound…well, what exactly is going on?"

  Cindy explained what she'd witnessed and how she'd counted the takings at the end of the night and checked them again that morning when she'd opened up for the day. That somehow, the money wasn't adding up, and the growing popularity of the bed and breakfast was getting a bit much for the small cafe to manage.

  Diana leapt to her feet and slid into her office chair. She flicked on the computer monitor and began typing. "You're saying this was yesterday?"

  Cindy dipped her head in agreement. "Yes, that's right."

  "But we only had ten guests last night, the family of six who stretched my washing machine's capabilities all night long, two single men and a couple."

  Cindy's heart thudded. "What?"

  "That's right, and I guarantee you the family didn't go to happy hour." Diana chuckled. "Oh heavens above, I'm glad they checked out early this morning."

  "But…I…"

  "And I really don't know why you're talking about our growing popularity… We've been under-booked for months now. As I said, I've been thinking about what we'll do with the place when I'm not up for taking care of everything on my own any longer. To be honest with you, I couldn't manage having the place booked solid these days."

  Cindy leaned back in her chair, one finger pressed to her lips. What Diana was saying didn't make any sense. She'd seen the guests with their room keys; she'd served them herself.

  "Well then, if that's the case," she muttered, "I believe I have another issue on my hands entirely."

  Chapter 25

  Sarah

  Sarah's fingers drummed on the outside of her coffee mug. It was just like Jeremy to insist she meet him for coffee, then make her wait. She'd put up with his games for far too long. At first, she'd given him grace - he was a writer after all. She'd been an editor long enough to know that there were plenty of writers who lost track of time or got so caught up in themselves and what was going on inside their heads that they forgot everyone around them. That was what she'd told herself so many times when he'd left her alone at restaurants or been an hour late to pick her up - he was creative, a thinker, it wasn't his fault. But over the years, she'd begun to wonder if perhaps it wasn't his way of showing her exactly where she stood.

  She inhaled a long, slow breath to calm her nerves.

  Why was she so fidgety today? Perhaps it was the coffee. She was already on her fourth cup for the day and didn't usually drink more than one in the morning. That was what happened when everyone wanted to catch up - they'd meet over coffee, discuss office politics over coffee; it was the thing to do. In an office full of women, no one wanted to eat; they only drank - caffeine, black or skim, no sugar.

  She'd gotten used to it while she lived there; now it grated a little.

  Finally, she saw him picking his way through the tightly packed round tables and coffee-drinking professionals to where she sat. She stood to kiss his cheek, while he kissed hers, the scent of his aftershave reminding her of everything they'd shared, his strong arms around her, his lips against hers. She bit down on her lip as she sat and reached for the cup to give her hands something to hold.

  "It's good to see you, Jer."

  He grinned, that dimple taunting her again. "You too, Sarah. If it's possible, I think you got even more beautiful in the time since I saw you last."

  She ducked her head, her cheeks flaming. Had he always been so obvious?

  "I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to call you back…" she began.

  He interrupted. "You mean, you're sorry you've been dodging my calls?"

  She issued an uncomfortable laugh.

  He waved a hand at their waitress, placed his order, then focused his blue eyes once again on her face.

  "Yes, sorry about that."

  He cocked his head to one side, reached for her hand. "Why is that? Why aren't you talking to me? I thought everything was fine, we had a good thing going, we were going to spend the rest of our lives together." He swore beneath his breath, the sound like a hiss. "What happened? I have a right to know."

  Sarah extracted her hand from his, took a sip of the now tepid coffee. "We weren't right together. That's all. I figured it out a little late, I know that. I shouldn't have agreed to get married, but you proposed in front of all of our friends… I didn't want to embarrass you."

  His eyes darkened. "You agreed to marry me so I wouldn't be embarrassed?" Jeremy combed fingers through his hair, setting the almost-black mass on end. "Wow, that's cold, even for you, Sarah."

  Her heart pounded against her rib cage, and sweat trickled down her spine. "I'm sorry… Wait, what do you mean - even for me?"

  He shrugged. "You know what I mean."

  "No, I really don't. You think I'm cold?" Anger boiled in her stomach, making her hands shake. She pressed them harder against the coffee mug.

  He made a harsh sound in his throat. "You walked away from your fiancé without an explanation, without looking back. I'd say that's pretty cold. And it tracks with your record. You never think of me, of my feelings. It's always about you, what you want."

  His words cut her to the core. That wasn't what'd happened. She'd tried to work things
out with him, to talk about the issues in their relationship. The way he told it, she was no better than her father. It couldn't be true. She wasn't like him; she wouldn't walk away with no explanation. Jeremy hadn't listened to her as usual, hadn't taken her concerns seriously. Although in fairness, she'd never confronted him about the infidelity. She'd been too broken-hearted to try. Perhaps she was more like her father than she'd realised, but she wasn't going to let him make himself out as the victim, not now and not ever.

  "That's not even remotely true," she hissed, then tempered her voice, noticing the stares they were drawing. She straightened, took a calming breath. "Please don't say that, we shouldn't say things we'll regret."

  "Fine, you're right. Here's what I came here to say: I want you to move back to Sydney. I know you gave up your unit, but you can move in with me - I've been asking you to do that for years anyway, and it's the right thing, the next step since we'll be married soon anyway."

  Sarah's eyebrows drew low across her eyes. She held her breath. Was he serious? How could he be so deluded to think she'd do that?

  "Jeremy, I gave back the ring, we broke up - we're not getting married. And I am definitely not moving in with you, I made myself pretty clear on that subject the last ten times you asked me."

  He eyed her, his face red. "I don't get it - plenty of women would love to move in with me, to marry me. Didn't you see the Sydney Post? I'm the most eligible bachelor in the city…"

  She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing in his face. The list had been put together by a PR group hired by the publishing company to promote his newest release. That he'd bought it only made her resolve stronger.

  "Then you shouldn't have any trouble replacing me," she said, rising to her feet and slinging the strap of her handbag over one shoulder. "In fact, you certainly didn't seem to have any difficulty with that while we were together."

  He stood too, his face incredulous. "What do you mean by that? You can't leave yet, I haven't even got my coffee. We have to talk about this, Sarah."