She smiled, a heart-throbbing, girl-next-store smile. “You’re not in Seattle anymore. Business is done differently in a small town. You want your company to thrive in Summer Island, then you want the people here to be involved. Trust me.”’
Another clap of thunder warned he better get to work before the storm reached them, ending his workday early. “Okay, I’ll give your suggestion a try.”
“Be at my place at eight in the morning. Unless that’s too early for a city boy like you.”
“I’m up at five.” He escorted her to the glass sliding door, not because he wanted her to go but because he wanted to get to work. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to stay in Summer Island, and for the first time since he’d arrived, he wanted to stay for more reasons than hiding from the media.
“I can get the dishes done since you cooked, so you can get to work before the afternoon storm hits. There’ll be a lot more of them once the summer months arrive.”
He opened the door. “No. I invited you to brunch, and you’re helping me with my business.”
“It’s no trouble. Honestly, maybe helping you with your business will nudge me in a direction for my own. You were right.” She glanced through the glass sliding door, as if to see her future in the distance. “I’m not the type to be running a souvenir shop.”
He could see the internal conflict within her. The struggle between her past and her future. It was understandable that she was still trying to figure out her new life without a husband. Especially since he assumed they’d been married young. It made him realize the mess of his life was nothing in comparison to what she had faced. “What do you think you might want to do?”
She looked at him, her gaze intense but inviting. “I was an artist years ago. Some of my work won awards and was even placed in the town museum. Nothing compared to big city, but I might try my hand at that again.”
“What kind of art?” he asked, opening the door and walking her out. The warm sun caused him to shield his eyes so he could still see her walking by his side.
“It’s not traditional painting or sketching, although I do enjoy sketching. I’m an artist who uses nature. My piece that was placed in the museum years ago was said to be ahead of its time. I worked with a retired bee keeper and designed a mold in the shape of a pesticide can. Bees were becoming more scarce in the area, so I did some research and discovered that the new pesticides they were using were having a direct effect on bees producing honeycombs.”
“That’s not only art, that’s political and profound. How old were you?”
“Sixteen.”
“I went to parties and drank too much at that age. It wasn’t until I was eighteen that I even thought about the world beyond myself.” He looked down at her five-foot-fourish frame and saw a giant heart. “I get it now.”
“What?”
“Why you don’t want tourists here. It’s not just about you wanting to keep things the same. You want to protect and preserve what exists. I can respect that.” And he could, which surprised him, since the previous company he worked with bought old buildings and tore them down to build parking garages.
“Perhaps, or it could be both reasons.” She eyed the path behind the old fence near the Houdini tunnel. “I better go check on Houdini. Dustin might have found himself in some trouble if he called him a rodent. Houdini is sensitive like that.”
“I’ll walk you home.” He didn’t get a chance to take a step before his phone rang.
“You should answer that. I’ll be fine.”
“It’s probably Dustin. You might need me to come with you.” He glanced down at the screen to discover it wasn’t Dustin.
It was Marsha. The ex-wife who ran out without a word, who cheated on him, took everything she could in the divorce without even facing him or speaking to him. The lawyers had handled everything for her. Now, months later, with the divorce final and him moving on with his life, she decides to speak to him? He stared down at her number as if it wasn’t real. “It’s my ex,” he mumbled, but the shock took hold and he didn’t say anything else.
He wanted to tell Julie that he didn’t want to talk to his ex. He wanted to tell Julie that if he had a choice, he’d rather spend the day with her. He wanted to tell her she was a special woman who he wanted to get to know better.
But he didn’t say any of those things because he couldn’t comprehend why Marsha would call him now. And God help him, he stared at that phone even after the ringing had stopped, because as much as he was curious about why she was calling, he was equally dreading finding out.
Chapter Ten
“Naked?” Wind squealed. “You go girl.”
Julie wasn’t in the mood for Wind’s antics, not when she was packing up the last twenty-something years of her life. She sat on the ground surrounded by boxes, carefully folding an old flannel shirt Joe used to wear. It had been his favorite.
Bri squeezed her arm. “You’re doing the right thing, Mom.”
“I know.”
“Ignoring me won’t make me stop asking. Inquiring old friends want to know all the juicy details.” Wind plopped down and threw her arms around Julie. “But Bri’s right. You’re doing great.”
The evening breeze swept through the garden and offered a reprieve from the humidity after the rain. Not to mention the dripping sweat from
