“My pleasure,” Carole said. “Let me know how it goes!”
With a flash of dimples and a wave, she hurried out the door.
Rick’s head jerked back and a piece of steak fell from his mouth onto his plate with a splat. “She’s having you meet Sydney from Caterpillar Press? But she’s
my
editor.”
“Is she?” Beth asked. “I thought the name sounded familiar.”
“Why on earth would she do that?” he snapped.
“Because she’s seen Beth’s book, and she thinks she has talent,” Lindsey said.
Rick turned his astonished face toward her and then he huffed a breath and looked furious. Lindsey felt as though she’d just jumped in front of the firing squad to save Beth.
“This is your doing, isn’t it?” he snapped. “You’re giving Beth ideas beyond her abilities.”
Mary, who’d been silent, sucked in an audible gasp. One look at the daggers she was glaring, and Lindsey knew she was about to erupt. Mary was known for her hot Irish temper.
“I disagree,” Lindsey said. “I think Beth’s work is terrific; otherwise, I wouldn’t encourage her to show it to an editor.”
“I’m sorry,” Rick said. He carefully placed his knife and fork on the edge of his plate, folded his hands in his lap and studied Lindsey through his spotty glasses. “I wasn’t aware that you had become an expert on children’s literature.”
Mary’s eyes looked about ready to pop out of her head, but as the child of two college professors, Lindsey had spent her formative years in academia. She knew a pretentious blowhard when she saw one, and she knew exactly how to deal with him.
“I never claimed to be an expert,” she said. “But I am a librarian, and I have studied children’s literature, and I know quality work when I see it.”
She let her words dangle in the air. Judging by the red that suffused Rick’s cheeks, her meaning—that his work was inferior in her opinion—was not lost on him.
He turned back to Beth. “I was under the impression that there was one artist in our relationship and that it was me. Obviously, I was mistaken.”
“Oh, no,” Beth said. She put her hand on his arm, but he shrugged her off like a pouty toddler. “I’m just curious to see what an editor would think of my work. That’s all.”
“Because my opinion, which I’ve given you, is of no value to you?” he asked. His voice was a whiny tenor of hurt.
Lindsey reached for her wineglass and drained it. Mary gave her a nod of understanding and went to fetch more.
“You know I value your opinion,” Beth said. “I’d just like to see if I could go anywhere with my stories.”
Rick wiped his mouth with his napkin and tossed it onto the table. “Well, I guess you’ve made your decision then. Have a nice life.”
He rose and Beth gaped at him. “You’re breaking up with me?”
“You’ve given me no choice,” he said. He shrugged on his rain gear, looking like a giant pea pod in the soft glow of the café’s candlelit tables.
Mary returned with a bottle of wine, and Lindsey filled Beth’s glass and her own. Mary held out a third empty glass and Lindsey nodded, filling one for her as well. It appeared they were going to need it.
“Why you narcissistic, arrogant, self-centered son of a . . . sea dog!” Beth shouted as she hopped up from her seat and jabbed Rick in the chest with her pointer finger.
Mary took Rick’s empty seat, and she and Lindsey watched the drama unfold before them as if it were on television.
“Really, Beth, there is no need to get violent,” he said.
“Violent?” she shouted. “I’ll give you violent.”
She reached behind her and grabbed an empty chair by the back. Using it like a lion tamer in the ring, she jabbed at Rick with the legs.
“Five years,” she said with a jab. “Five years of listening to you snivel and whine about your career. Five years of wanting to get married and having you put me off. Five years of never being invited onto your island but always being off island waiting for you. Five years of you telling me that I’m not good enough to write children’s stories, and I believed you. Well, I am over it and you.”
She jabbed at Rick, forcing him toward the door and the storm outside. He yelped and opened the door. The wind snatched it back and doused him with a blast of cold rain.
“Oh, it’s really bad out there,” he said.
Beth glared at him. He straightened his glasses and gave her a weak smile.
“I don’t think I should risk going back to the island in my boat. I’ll just stay the night with you one last time, don’t you think?”
He gave her a smarmy look that was obviously supposed to woo her. Beth let out a low growl that sounded as if it resonated from the back of her throat. Mary gave Lindsey a wide-eyed stare, but Lindsey shook her head. This was Beth’s battle; of course they’d give her backup, but she needed to make the final break herself.
“I am so over you,” Beth said. “Enjoy your island all by your lonesome.”
Rick blinked at her in confusion. “Is that a no?”
Beth’s face went red and she raised the chair, looking like she might conk him on the head with it. Lindsey and Mary were half out of their seats when, luckily, a strong pair of hands plucked the chair out of Beth’s grasp.
“My guess is that’s a no,” said a deep voice that brooked no argument.
CHAPTER 4
C
aptain Mike Sullivan, or Sully as he was known in Briar Creek, put the chair down and gave Rick a gentle push out the door, pulling it closed after him.
Beth spun around and nodded at him. “Thanks.”
“Any time,” Sully said, and he ambled back to the small bar at the back of the restaurant. He’d been talking to Mary’s husband, Ian, his business partner in the Thumb Islands tour-boat company, when he’d stepped over to help Beth out.
“Way to go, big brother,” Mary said, and she raised her glass in Sully’s direction.
He gave her a small smile, and Lindsey saw two deep dimples bracket his mouth. With the same square jaw, mahogany curls, and bright-blue eyes as his sister, Sully was not exactly hard on the eyes, and Lindsey had to force her gaze away.
She was off men; she had to remember that. She turned her attention to Beth, who stomped back to their table.
“Can you believe that?” she asked as she plopped down in her seat and sipped her wine. “I mean, really—how thick can one man be?”
“That’s a rhetorical question, right?” Mary asked.
Beth raised her wineglass. “Well, here’s to meeting that editor. Since Carole went to all that trouble to set it up, the least I can do is show up.”
“Absolutely,” Mary said. “I’ll use my chowder to woo her into a happy place before she looks at your work.”
They clinked glasses, and each took a long sip. Lindsey studied her friend. Had it only been an hour ago that she’d said she wanted to marry Rick?
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. “Personally, I think I have whiplash from that turn of events.”
“I’m fine. You know, when you asked me earlier if I wanted to marry him,” Beth said, “I had an epiphany. I don’t think I wanted to marry him as much as I wanted to get married. And you know what? I’m not sure I want that anymore either.”
“When it’s the right one, you will,” Mary said. Lindsey glanced at her and saw she was looking at her husband with a fondness that was touching.
Ian Murphy was short and bald with glasses and freckles. He was not exactly the dashing-prince type. When she had first met him, she didn’t think he was the sort of man who Mary would date, never mind marry. But then he had cracked a joke and smiled at her, and by the time they had finished their introductions, Lindsey was half in love with him herself.
Ian was funny and charming, and his smile lit up any room he happened into. Everyone loved him, and Mary considered herself lucky to have him for a husband. And as for Ian, Mary was the love of his life, and he treated her with a reverence that let everyone know he assumed she’d come to her senses any day and leave him, but she never did, and Lindsey doubted she ever would.
Lindsey and Beth exchanged a look of commiseration. If they could find someone and have half of what Mary and Ian had, they’d consider it a success.
Mary refilled their glasses, and they all took a healthy sip. “Trust me. You’ll find the right man. You just have to be patient.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Beth said. “As for now, I’m going to take a page out of Lindsey’s book and swear off men.”
“Who has sworn off men?” a voice asked from behind them.
They spun around to find Ian and Sully standing there.
“Lindsey has sworn off men,” Beth said. “And I’m going to join her.”
Sully glanced at Lindsey. His blue eyes studied her face for a second before he said, “That’s a shame.”
Lindsey felt suddenly parched, and she looked at her empty wineglass with regret. She cleared her throat and tried to ignore the warm flush she felt creeping into her cheeks as Sully continued to watch her. She glanced away and noticed Mary studying them with interest.
“Well, as long as it’s not Mary,” Ian said. He turned a chair around and sat down at the table with them.
“I’ve sworn off all men except for you,” Mary said.
“Whew.” Ian wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “I’d hate to be single and try to get my girlish figure back at this late date in life.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Sully teased him with a smile. “If we put a high gloss on that dome of yours, I bet we could put you out in the bay, and you’d bring the ladies in by the boatload.”
Ian hopped to his feet and did a fair impression of a lighthouse, complete with foghorn sound effects. It was impossible not to laugh at his antics.
“Come on, foggy,” Mary said as she rose from her seat. “Help me lock up.”
Lindsey glanced around to see that the other diners had all left. A busboy had come and cleared their plates, and the rest of the staff was putting up chairs and wiping down the café.
Lindsey stopped by the register to pay their tab, but Mary refused to take it. She said it wouldn’t be right to charge them on the night of a big breakup.
Lindsey waited until she turned her back, and then stuffed the money she owed, plus a healthy tip to cover the bill Rick had walked out on, into the tip jar on the counter.
“I’m telling.”
She turned to find Sully standing behind her. He stood a head taller than her, so she tipped her chin up to look him in the eye.
“If you do, then I won’t hold the next Harlan Coben novel for you,” she said.
“That’s harsh.”
“Librarian’s privilege.”
“Are you ready?” Beth asked Lindsey as she joined them. She handed Lindsey her jacket, and they waved good-bye to Mary and Ian as they headed for the door.
Lindsey pushed the door open, and the wind ripped it out of her hands and slammed it against the wall. The rain stabbed her face with icy little pinpricks as she tried to pull the door back.
Sully reached around her and pulled it shut.
“Did you two walk here in this?” he asked.
“It wasn’t like this when we left the library.”
“Our bikes are still there,” Beth said.
“You can’t ride or walk home in this storm,” Sully said. “Let me bring my truck around, and I’ll give you both a lift.”
He pushed the door open and headed out into the storm before they could protest.
“It’s really bad out there,” Beth said with a frown.
“Don’t even think it,” Lindsey said. “He’s a big boy. There are plenty of places for him to stay in town. He doesn’t need to stay at your place.”
“You’re right,” Beth said with a nod. “I know you’re right. Rick can take care of himself.”
Despite these words, Lindsey noticed that Beth paused before getting into Sully’s truck to check the pier and see if Rick’s boat was tied up. When it wasn’t in its usual spot, a look of concern flashed in her eyes.
“He probably docked it somewhere else,” Lindsey shouted over the wind. “Like the marina.”
Beth nodded but looked unconvinced. They hustled into the cab of Sully’s truck. He shut the door behind them and hurried around to the driver’s side. Heat was blasting out of the floor vents and fogging up the windows, and Lindsey was grateful, as the damp cold had begun to seep into her bones.
Sully used a rag to wipe down the inside of the windshield and put the truck in drive. They wound their way down the narrow two-lane road to the shore road beyond. When they reached the fork in the road, he turned left, which would lead them out to a stretch of small bungalows built during the postwar fifties, one of which Beth had bought a few years after she took the job as children’s librarian.
Lindsey loved all of these small houses. They were painted bright colors and sported funky names like “License to Chill,” “Buoys and Gulls” and “Dune Nuthin.” Of course, Lindsey’s favorite was Beth’s. A small two-bedroom box of a house, it had a petite porch and was set back from the water with several houses between it and the well-worn path that led to the private beach. Beth had painted it sea-foam green with white trim and named it “A Shore Thing.”
Some of the houses were vacation homes for wealthy New Yorkers, but most were family owned by Briar Creek residents who lived in town year-round. Lindsey wasn’t sure what her future held, but she did keep an eye on the bungalows just in case one came up for sale. Over the past six months, she’d become very fond of the small town and thought it might not be so bad to spend her life in a cottage by the sea.
“Thanks for the ride, Sully,” Beth said. “See you tomorrow, Lindsey.”
She hopped out of the truck and bounded through the sheets of rain up onto her porch and into her house. Once the door closed behind her, Sully backed out of her small drive and headed back the way they had come.
Lindsey realized this was the first time she’d ever been alone with him, and the realization made her feel abruptly awkward. The wind that lashed the rain against her windows seemed mocking, and she felt a sudden need to fill the silence.