I peered through the window. It was quiet and still inside. What the hell? It was Wednesday, wasn’t it? I checked my phone again and saw there was still no response from my text.
Calling Jason was risky, but fuck it. I was too far gone to care.
He answered after the third ring. “Yeah?”
“Where is she?”
“Who?”
“Your sister. I swung by and no one was home.”
“No clue. Did you . . . need something?” he asked.
“Not really. I just grabbed some tacos from that place she liked, wanted to stop by.” That much was true, and seemed innocent enough.
“So you haven’t eaten yet?”
“No. Why?” I looked down at the bag of food in my hand.
“Because I have an idea . . .”
• • •
Ten minutes later I pulled into the parking lot of a well-known tourist bar. You know the type—little picnic tables right on the beach, fruity drinks with colorful paper umbrellas, and plenty of toned, tanned skin as far as the eye could see.
I hadn’t been here in years. The place was a meat market, and I had no interest in picking up some random girl, trying to make conversation and watching her face fall when I explained why I was single. Yet somehow here I was. At Jason’s request. I felt my temper rising, and the urge to punch something flared inside me, yet I put one foot in front of the other and headed toward the back patio.
“Over here,” Jason called, rising from his seat to wave at me.
Reluctantly I started toward them. He was seated next to a brunette, with his hand on her knee. Across from them, a blonde was perched in her chair, her legs crossed, looking bored. She was apparently the reason I was here.
“Hey, thanks for coming.” Jason reached out to give my hand a casual shake.
“Sure.” I was promised free dinner and drinks, and Jason said I’d be bailing him out of an awkward situation. The bastard. I didn’t sign up for some fucking double date.
“This is Sara,” he said, looking fondly at his date. “And that’s Lindsey.” He grinned at me with a smile that said you’re welcome.
“Hey,” I grunted, sliding down into the open seat next to Lindsey.
“Another round,” Jason said cheerily, signaling the waitress passing by.
Good fucking thing too. I needed a drink—or ten—right about now.
“Ladies, this is Shaw. As I mentioned before, he owns the big marina down on Lancaster Boulevard.”
He’d apparently been talking me up. I didn’t own the place—my parents did—but I didn’t argue.
“That must be so nice, working near the water all day,” Lindsey commented, shifting closer to me.
I looked at her for the first time. She actually appeared as out of place as I felt. Maybe she wasn’t any happier about this setup than I was. She had shoulder-length blond hair styled in loose waves and wide-set blue eyes. She was cute in a sort of innocent, girl-next-door way.
“I love the water, so it’s perfect for me,” I responded. “I couldn’t imagine working in an office all day. I’d rather be outside in the sun and the breeze.”
“Oh, I agree. I work for a florist, and we have a booth at the farmer’s market. I love it.”
“Cool.” I found myself smiling at her. “Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten yet.” The bag of tacos I’d bought for Chloe were stuffed into a trash can outside.
“I’m starved. And they have the best coconut shrimp here, with the most amazing creamy mango dipping sauce.”
Just then the waitress returned with our drinks—fruity, frozen concoctions for the women and pint glasses of beer for Jason and me.
“Two orders of coconut shrimp and a side of fries, please,” I told the waitress, and then directed my gaze at Lindsey. “Anything else?”
“An ice water,” she added.
“Make that two,” I said.
Jason ordered a burger, and when his date asked for a side salad with low-fat dressing on the side, Lindsey and I exchanged a conspiratorial grin, knowing we were moments away from sharing deep-fried goodness. With creamy mango sauce.
Soon our food arrived and while we ate, I found the conversation flowed easily between Lindsey and me. It had been a long time since I’d been in the presence of a woman other than Chloe, and found it was quite like riding a bike. We chatted, drank some more, and later shared a slice of key lime pie.
There was no fucking, no escaping the grief completely, but still, a much better night than if I’d gone home alone.
Chapter Nine
Chloe
I had a bad feeling stewing in the pit of my stomach and I couldn’t figure out why.
“Where were you last night?” Jason asked as I poured myself a cup of coffee.
I was intent on getting our social media pages up to date this morning, a task I always put on the back burner. Because there was always something else more pressing that needed to be done.
“Nowhere special. I ran some errands. Got my eyebrows waxed. Nothing exciting. Why?”
He grabbed a mug from the cupboard and joined me near the coffeepot to wait for it to finish brewing. “Because apparently Shaw stopped by here last night with your favorite tacos and when you weren’t home¸ he called me.”
Tacos? Calling my brother, looking for me? This was not the sex-starved, one-track-mind Shaw I knew. I’d made it a point not to be home last night, but now my heart ached.