Once in a Lifetime (14 page)

W
ith a week and a half left until her grand-opening party, Aubrey stood in the crap-food aisle of the grocery store, trying to decide between cool ranch and salt-and-vinegar potato chips. It was an important decision, and one she took very seriously. Whichever flavor she picked would be keeping her company through tonight’s TV session. She went back and forth for a ridiculously long moment before deciding the hell with it and tossing both in her cart. That’s when she saw the barbecue-flavored chips as well. Damn. She wasn’t supposed to be able to choose between them all, was she? She was reaching for a third bag when she heard her name.

Turning, she came face-to-face with Pastor Mike, smiling his easy smile.

She quickly backed away from the barbecue chips and briefly wished she had fruit and vegetables in her cart. Which was silly. Pastor Mike was a man, not God. He didn’t care how many bags of potato chips she consumed. And probably God didn’t care, either. Still, she moved to stand in front of the cart so he couldn’t get a good look at its contents, which so far consisted of Advil and the chips.

“How are you?” Pastor Mike asked.

“Great.” She wanted that third bag of chips.

Pastor Mike smiled. “Is that why you’re chip-loading? Because you’re great?”

She sighed and glanced at her cart. “Saw that, did you?”

He smiled. “I love those salt-and-vinegar chips.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

“So,” he said in that calm voice. “How are you really?”

“Well, as you can clearly see, I just loaded about ten thousand calories of chips into my cart, so…” She shrugged.

“I’ve been hoping you’d come to another meeting.”

“Oh, I don’t think—”

“There’s one tonight.” He flashed a charming smile. “Better for you than chip therapy.”

“Is there
anything
better than chip therapy?”

“No,” he admitted. “But this would be really close. We’d love to see you there. It’s at eight thirty.”

Well, hell. “Maybe.” She paused. “And thanks. You’ve been so kind—and helpful, too.”

He cocked his head, eyes curious. “I haven’t done anything.”

She thought about the list and how she was working her way down it. And how, in spite of having about a fifty-percent success rate at the moment, it’d felt really good to face those ghosts. “You did a lot,” she said. “You motivated me.”

He smiled. “Well, then, I’m glad. You’ve got my number if you need a ride. Otherwise I hope to see you tonight.”

She nodded and then went through the checkout. And if she added a candy bar from the evil,
evil
rack right before the cash register, no one but she had to know.

She had one more stop to make before heading home, and suddenly she needed the candy bar to face it. Chocolate courage, she decided. She inhaled it and then headed to the Love Shack. She knew that someone from her list went there every night for a quick nightcap before heading home.

Sue Henderson.

Back when Aubrey had been eighteen, Sue had been an assistant DA. She’d moved up the ranks in the years since. She was a judge now, which only made her all the more intimidating. She was at the bar nursing a white wine when Aubrey approached. The only reaction Sue gave was a simple narrowing of her critical gaze over the rim of her glass.

“Well, that answers the question of whether you remember me,” Aubrey said, and gestured for the bartender. She was going to need a drink for this.

“Rumor is you’re working your way through town and making apologies,” Sue said.

Aubrey stared at her, stunned. “Well, that was quick.”

Sue shrugged. “It’s Lucky Harbor.”

True. Aubrey accepted her wine from the bartender. It was Jax serving tonight. He co-owned the bar with Ford. Jax was handsome and charming—and sharp enough to take one look at Aubrey and Sue sitting together and bring them each a second glass. “On the house,” he said, shooting Aubrey a quick wink before moving off.

Sue finished off her first wine and reached for her second. “So.”

“So,” Aubrey said. Her heart started pounding. This was always the worst part, getting started. But then Sue started for her.

“You put green food coloring in my pool on the day I was hosting a huge, important town hall luncheon,” she said. “The luncheon I was hoping would get me from ADA to DA. I spent a fortune decorating my backyard that day, bringing in gorgeous tables and flowers. The caterers had set up around my pool—which, thanks to you, looked like a toilet tank. A really
disgusting
toilet tank.”

“Yes,” Aubrey said, nodding. “I did that.”

“I didn’t get to be DA that year.”

Aubrey knew that, too. Sue had been her father’s neighbor. They were still neighbors, actually. And on the few occasions when Aubrey had been invited to visit, Aubrey had run across Sue, as she and her father had been friends.

Sue hadn’t approved of Aubrey’s beauty contests and general upbringing. She’d been fond of saying things like “Looks will fade, Aubrey, and you’ll find yourself fading along with them” and “I guess your sister really did get all the brains.”

Aubrey hadn’t really minded hearing the looks-fading thing; she’d known that. But she had minded being held up against her sister and found lacking. Or maybe she’d just been plain tired of all of it by then. Regardless, she’d done Sue wrong. “I shouldn’t have put the green food coloring in your pool,” she said.

“
And
my pond,” Sue added.

“And your pond,” Aubrey said in agreement.

Sue stared at her. “That’s it? That’s my big apology?”

“You did eventually get promoted,” Aubrey pointed out. “And you’re a judge now. A good one.”

Sue looked slightly mollified. “I
am
a good judge. But you stained the pool’s finish—did you know that? We had to drain it and redo it. And the pond…you killed my fish.”

“I know,” Aubrey said. “It was a rotten thing to do.” She paused. “You work with troubled teens.”

“Yes,” Sue said, looking suspicious. “Aren’t you a little old to be a troubled teen?”

Aubrey ignored the jab. “You’ve funded a special program for them at the teen center. You bring in career women once a week to meet with the girls and talk with them about their options. Doctors, lawyers, chefs—”

“I do.”

“I thought maybe I could volunteer to do that,” Aubrey said casually, even though she felt anything but casual. She felt…nervous. Sick with it, actually. But it was something she wanted to do to help others, especially those who were as emotionally adrift as she had been.

“You want to talk to troubled teen girls,” Sue said dubiously.

“Well, who better than a once troubled teen girl?” Aubrey asked quietly.

Sue looked at her for a long moment. “The people I have working with those teens are no longer troubled.”

“
I’m
no longer troubled,” Aubrey said.

“Just a few months ago, you slept with your boss and lost your job because of it.”

When would that stop following her around? “No,” she said. “I slept with my
date
, who turned out to be screwing half the town. I quit my job because he also turned out to be slime.”

Sue just looked at her.

“Okay, so he was also my boss,” she admitted. “But…” Aubrey started to say it wasn’t what Sue thought, but the truth was…it’d been exactly as Sue thought. She met the judge’s gaze. “You know what? Never mind. It was a ridiculous idea.”

Ben had been eating nachos and nursing a beer with Jack and Luke when Aubrey had walked into the Love Shack. She’d gone straight to the bar without seeing him, her gaze locked on someone already there.

At his table, Jack was telling them the story of having to rescue one of the world’s dumbest criminals on the job yesterday. Some guy had climbed a tree outside the convenience store to reach the second-story window, where the office was. Presumably the idea was to break in from above, but he got stuck in the window, half in and half out, hanging twenty-five feet above the ground, screaming for help.

Ben laughed at this right along with Luke, but his gaze kept being drawn back to the bar.

And Aubrey, as she’d sat sipping a wine, talking to Judge Sue Henderson.

The two women had looked incredibly cool and calm, but Ben knew Aubrey—knew the telltale signs that revealed the real Aubrey beneath the veneer. Her smile wasn’t reaching her eyes. Her legs were crossed, her body still, except for the slight movement of her fingers nudging her glass back and forth. She appeared to be taking a breath every two or three minutes. He supposed that’s how she’d survived her rough patches—by going into hibernation mode.

But he’d also seen her looking very much alive and breathing, like she’d just run a marathon, and he much preferred that look to this brittle one.

She seemed to be near a breaking point. How was it that no one but him saw that?

Then the judge had said something, and though Aubrey didn’t move, he could tell whatever it’d been, the barb had hit deep. Aubrey nodded, tossed back her wine, and stood. She said something. Sue didn’t respond, and Aubrey walked off.

And right out the door.

Ben stood and tossed some bills on the table. “Gotta go.”

Luke, gaze also on the door, just nodded thoughtfully.

Jack, having never been particularly thoughtful, said, “Anything to do with the beautiful leggy blonde that just left?”

“No,” Ben said.

“Bullshit.”

“Leave it alone,” Ben told him.

“Did you leave it alone when I was making a fool of myself over Leah?” Jack asked, leaning back lazily in his chair.

“Hell, yeah,” Ben said. “I left it plenty. And no one’s making a fool of himself here tonight, especially me.”

“First of all,” Jack said, lifting a finger. “You delivered Leah to my doorstep drunk as a skunk and then left her with me. How was that possibly ‘leaving it alone’?”

“Okay, you know the real truth, which is that Leah delivered
herself
to you that night,” Ben reminded him. With Aubrey’s help, in fact. “I just helped her find you and then made sure neither of you drunk idiots drowned.”

“And second of all,” Jack went on, as if Ben hadn’t spoken, “you are
so
about to make a fool of yourself. I can tell these things.” He looked to Luke for confirmation.

Luke lifted his hands. “Don’t look at me. I can’t tell shit.”

“Says the guy who found himself wrapped around Ali’s little finger before he could so much as blink,” Jack said in disgust. “Never mind him,” he said to Ben.

“I’m
not
going to make a fool of myself,” Ben said testily.

Jack just grinned. Luke toasted him with his beer.

Ben swore, flipped them both off, and walked out into the night. It was a mild one as far as winter nights went. A little chilly, but dry for a change.

He’d expected Aubrey’s car to be long gone, but it was still in the lot. Empty. He walked through the lot to the street and looked both ways.

No tall, willowy, enigmatic blonde in either direction.

He walked to the church, one block away, but tonight the building was dark. Ben stood there, the cold, salty air blowing over him, and suddenly he knew where she’d be.

He crossed the street and hit the pier. Far below, the waves smashed against the pylons and rocks. Everything was closed, but strings of white lights had the entire length of the pier glowing into the dark night. He stilled to listen and heard the soft
click, click, click
of heels. Gotcha, he thought, and followed.

He didn’t catch up with her until the very end of the pier. She’d sunk to a bench, pulled her legs up, and had her arms wrapped around her knees. Facing away from him, she was looking out into the inky night.

When he sat next to her, she jumped a little and then glared at him. “I swear I’m going to buy you a bell for your neck.”

He didn’t smile. Couldn’t, because her face was wet, and her mascara was smeared slightly beneath her eyes. The sight made his heart stop. “You’re crying.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Aubrey—”

“Damn it, I told you sometimes I get something in my eyes.” She swiped angrily at her face.

Sighing, he slid a little closer and put an arm around her.

She resisted, but he simply held on, and then suddenly she sagged against him. “You really piss me off,” she murmured, and turning to him, buried her face in his chest.

He wrapped both arms around her and pressed his head to hers. “I know.”

She fisted her hands in his sweater and gripped him tight. “You’re still insensitive and a first-class jerk,” she said soggily, reminding him of the things she’d said to him when he’d pulled her coil wire.

“I know that, too,” he said.

She shuddered and tightened her hold on him.

Something deep in his chest squeezed. It was never easy to watch a woman cry, but when a really strong woman like Aubrey let go, it was even harder. He stroked a hand down her hair. “What’s wrong, Aubrey?”

She laughed mirthlessly against him. “You mean you don’t already know? You know everything.”

He didn’t say anything to this, just held her while she cried for a few minutes. Then she sniffed, and if he wasn’t mistaken, wiped her nose on his shoulder. “I need to walk,” she said, and got up.

He went with her. He could have gone back to Luke and Jack. He could have gone home. He had no reason to stick with Aubrey. No reason except that he wanted to.

They walked off the pier, and she kept going. Past Eat Me, the Love Shack, the post office, the flower shop, the bakery, her own bookstore. They walked the length of Commercial Row and ended up at the rec center.

“You’ve been working here,” Aubrey said. “With the kids.”

He nodded.

“I heard you’ve turned Craft Corner into a huge success,” she said. “Leah said more kids show up each time.”

He wasn’t comfortable with taking the credit. “I’ve gone twice. And it’s all Jack’s doing.”

Her expression said she wasn’t fooled. “You’re enjoying it.”

What the hell. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m enjoying it.” He was still surprised at that. But when he’d gone for the second time a few days ago, the director had found out he was certified as an EMT and had asked him to be a staff member. They’d given him a key to the building and a big welcome in lieu of a stipend. Which was fine. His old job—the one that was now going to be his
new
job—would provide a surprisingly decent salary.