THIS WAS NOT a date. Except maybe it was a little bit of a date? I wasn’t taking any chances. I shaved my beard. Time to stop looking like a degenerate. Time to stop moping around, hiding behind my facial hair and comfortable clothes that had definitely seen better days. Mindy was hot, and if I was going to go somewhere with her, I wanted people to think that we were together and not that she’d taken pity on a homeless guy. Time to make an effort.
I was feeling good about things that Saturday. I’d spent the morning on a couple of pleasant walks with some out-of-towners, and then I’d made a pot of coffee and sat outside by the empty pool to make phone calls. If I was going to get back to work in the fall, then I needed to have some conversations with the right people. It wouldn’t hurt if I figured out exactly what I wanted to do, too.
The first person I needed to speak with was Lisa. She was my business partner and my most trusted colleague. I set up the video conference—planned that morning—and a thrill darted through me to see her smiling face in the old office again. To me, this was a sure sign I was ready to get back in the game. “Well, well. Brett,” she said. “Let me guess: you’re leaving the monastery.”
That was the joke, that I’d sold everything to become a monk. “Lisa. Good to see you’re still smiling.” I took a quick sip of my coffee and leaned back in the lounge chair. “I’m not leaving here yet. I’m just planning my escape.”
“How lucky for us. And how lucky for you that I’m still here working my ass off.” Her tone was light, and she punctuated her words with a laugh.
In my business, I work with lots of smart people, so it means something when I say that Lisa is a genius. I was fortunate to meet her at just the right time, when I was starting my company. We happened to meet when we grabbed the last two chairs in a crowded coffee shop in the middle of a downpour. She asked me what I did, and when I told her I was running a software start-up, she said, “Who isn’t running a start-up in this town? Tell me something interesting about yourself.”
Lisa had dark, honest eyes and an engaging air of self-assurance. She had a tattoo on the inside of her left arm that said simply, Work hard. I’d meant to get a coffee, wait out the rain, and move on with my day. Instead, coffee had turned to lunch, which brought us back to my office plotting the organizational structure of my new company on a piece of card stock. Lisa was giving me free advice, telling me why my start-up was never going to get off the ground. “You’re all over the place,” she said, pointing to my project board. “You’re designing fitness apps and warehouse inventory apps and telling me that your real niche is in communication and social networking.” She shook her dark braids and threw her hands into the air. “What is it that you do, Brett? You’ve got to focus.”
I smiled. I needed Lisa on my team. “Join me,” I said. “I’ll make you CEO.” She did, and so I did.
At Riverstock Industries, Lisa ran the day-to-day operations, freeing me up to work on the creative side of things. Without her, I would’ve always been waist-deep in staffing issues and minutiae, and I never would’ve had the opportunity to follow my vision. She was one of my greatest support systems. When David died and I told her I needed to take some time to heal, Lisa didn’t demand to know how much time. She didn’t list all the responsibilities I was burdening her with by leaving, or inform me that I was putting the company in jeopardy by taking time away. She could have. Instead, she pulled me into a big hug and said, “I’ll hold down the fort.”
Now I felt a swell in my chest as I thought of all that Lisa had given to me. “I know I’m lucky,” I said. “I’ve never not known that.”
“Don’t get sentimental,” Lisa said. “But tell me, are you coming back to work? And what are we doing?”
I went through my notes with her, giving her all of my ideas. We talked it through. Most of my suggestions were garbage, or at least not yet ripe. They were too complicated or too unoriginal. We agreed to put those on the shelf. But there was one suggestion that we both liked: a program that allowed users to easily compile stories of their vacations based on GPS information and photos. “Think about it,” I said. “You come home from vacation and what’s the first thing you have to do?”
“Unpack.”
“You’re too practical. If you’re most people, you want to share your photos—assuming you haven’t been sharing them during your entire trip. Now what if there was a program that could create an interactive photo album for that, complete with music and captions explaining the highlights of your trip?”
“I like it. All at the click of a button?”
“Click of a button.”
I couldn’t claim credit for the idea. I’d walked with enough tourists to know this was an issue. A lot of them were still collecting paper brochures to stick into their photo albums so they wouldn’t forget the spots they’d visited. It seemed like a lot of work following a vacation, especially considering the vast resources of the Internet. “Say you go to a zoo,” I said, “and when you get home, you can create a digital photo album of your day, complete with information about the zoo on the day you visited, or interesting facts about the animals you photographed.”
“Can you print it out?”
“Sure. Order a bound paper copy, customized to your trip.”
“I love this.” She sat back in her chair to think. Her eyes moved around the room as she considered the proposal, and it was almost like I could see her gears spin. “I do, I love it. This will take some work—”
“I know. I’m going to head back to Seattle in the fall, but for now I can work remotely. I’d like to stay out here a little while longer.”
I was thinking of my garden, and the summer in New England and the way everything sprang to life. I was thinking that I needed a little bit more time to heal, just a little bit. And yes, I was thinking of Mindy and how we were going out together that night. I should stay put long enough to see where things led . . . right? “Maybe I’ll be back in early September.”
“I actually don’t care when you come back, physically,” Lisa said. “I mean I care, but I don’t care—”
“Yeah, break my heart.” I took another sip of my coffee.
“You know what I mean. I’m happy you’re back on the team.”
She crossed her hands in front of the camera and I saw the glint of a very large diamond. I nearly spit out my coffee. “Holy cow. Is that what I think it is?” I pointed to my left ring finger. “Are you engaged?”
Lisa broke into a broad smile. “Yes. Joe proposed.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” Something about that hurt a little.
“It only happened a couple of days ago,” she said quickly. “We’ve been caught up in telling our families. You were on the list, I promise.”
Her smile was warm and her eyes were sincere, but for the first time I felt like maybe my move east had turned me into something of an afterthought in my own company. Maybe I’d been selfish and self-indulgent, leaving my team behind. Lisa wasn’t like family. In my mind, Lisa was my family. She was the one who’d tracked me down when the medical examiner was trying to reach me to tell me about David. She’d been with me through all of that grief, but she hadn’t called when Joe proposed.
I forced a smile and leaned closer to the screen. “That’s all right. I’m sure it’s been busy. Everyone must be so happy for you. I’m so happy for you.”
Those last words squeezed through my tightening throat. I was happy for her. There was no reason not to be. Her shoulders loosened and she said, “Thank you. I’m sorry, you should’ve been one of the first calls. If you’d been here—” She froze.
“No, of course. I’m far away.” I positioned my coffee cup between us and reached out to shut down the screen. “Congrats, Lisa. I should get going.”
“Me too. It was good talking to you. You want me to work on a project board for the vacation albums? What are we calling it?”
“I only got as far as the concept.” My fingers were resting lightly on the top of the screen, ready to end the call. “Vacation something. Photo something.”
“Come on, you’re supposed to be the idea guy.”
She giggled, and I softened. Her laugh was infectious. “Pass it around the office. Someone there will come up with something good.”
“Will do. You take care now. Good talking to you.”
“Congrats again.”
I shut the screen and set my laptop on the glass table beside the lounge chair. I could have berated myself for ages about how this was all my own stupid fault. Missing home. Missing information. Losing touch with people I knew everything about only weeks ago. But I couldn’t waste my time on self-pity. I stood and stretched my legs. Lisa was right—my idea would require a lot of work, and I only had a few hours before I picked up Mindy.
• • •
AFTER I sold the Messages app and became an overnight millionaire, everyone seemed to suggest I buy a sports car. I didn’t care about it. Money was nice. It meant security to continue in my work; it meant I could hire more techs. To me, it didn’t mean much more than that. It was just money, and cars were just cars. Plus the thought of a convertible in Seattle was absurd, unless I wanted to shower on my way to work.
My one big purchase was the house in West Portsmouth, and only after David died and I needed an escape. I never bought the expensive car. I regretted being frugal for the first time when I picked up Mindy in my 2009 Toyota Prius. It was a fine car, but a Ferrari might have actually impressed her.
She was waiting outside of her cottage when I pulled into the driveway. Man, she was a vision, wearing a short white dress that showed plenty of long, lean leg. And her hair was . . . sexy. Long, wavy, and thick. I couldn’t stop looking at her when I stepped out of the car. No sense playing it cool. “You look amazing.”
She brightened at the compliment and tugged at the purple ends of her hair. “Thank you. You look pretty nice, too.”
I liked to think so. I’d shaved and showered and even worn cologne. I’d revived some of my more decent clothes, back from when I was working a few months ago. It was only a red polo and some blue jeans, but this was a step up from my usual people-walking attire. “I tried.”
She stepped closer and stroked her fingers along my bare cheeks. “You shaved. I barely recognize you anymore.”
Her touch was smooth and soft, sending jolts through my body. She allowed her hand to trail from my cheek to my arm, where it lingered for a beat. The look in her eyes told me this was deliberate. “You’re much too handsome for a beard,” she purred. “I’ve never understood why attractive men hide behind them.”
The comment hit its mark. Not the attractive part, but the hiding part. “There are different reasons.” I guided her hand off my arm and into my palm. She was so soft. “Are you ready to go?”
She flinched and looked away. “Ready. Of course.”
I led her to the car and opened the passenger door. When she passed me, I smelled her perfume. Mangoes or something. She smelled pretty. I shut the door when she was settled and rounded the car to my seat. “So what is this thing?” I pulled the seat belt across my lap.
“An engagement party.” Her tone was flat, her eyes fixed on the windshield.
I groaned. “Chase. You’re kidding me.”
“Please don’t be angry.”
Her hand came to rest on my arm again, near that soft spot opposite the elbow. Does that area have a name? Mine is sensitive, so every time the car bumped or her hand moved, I was aware of her touch. Very aware. “I’m over him,” she said. “This is closure.”
We fell into silence. I wanted to support her, but I didn’t want to be used. “So what is this with you and me, exactly?”
“A date,” she said, and looped her arm through mine. “One hundred percent a date.” Then she looked out the window as we entered the highway, her face turned completely away from me. “This car is so quiet. Do you plug it in at night?”
I didn’t want to talk about the Prius, but she did, so I indulged her questions. Enjoy the night. Stop overthinking everything. Mindy was beautiful and fun, and I’d had little beauty or fun in my life over the last few months. There was nothing wrong with keeping it casual.
I’D NEVER felt so unsettled in my life. I was going to the engagement party for the love of my life, my soul mate, and I was in the company of a man I was terribly attracted to. I felt like someone had swirled up my insides, like I no longer knew what I wanted.
Brett looked incredible. Tan. Lean. So hot in that polo and without that beard. The beard had been okay, but why in the world would such a beautiful man hide his face? And I’d noticed the thread on his sleeve right away. He was wearing a red shirt with a loose red thread. My hand kept drifting to that thread, looping it around my pinky finger. It was exactly like the story Mom used to tell me, the one about soul mates being tied together with invisible red threads. Sometimes the universe gives us a sign and it’s only a matter of looking for it.
But that was silly. I brought my hands to my lap like a respectable lady—which I was not. I definitely wanted to have sex with Brett that night, and not because of red threads on his sleeve. I was feeling depressed and lonely, and I needed to take the edge off. Brett was the perfect man for that. I leaned back in my seat and smiled at him. “I like looking at your face.”
The truth. He had a great jawline and kind eyes. “Your ears are kind of sexy,” I said, and reached over to run a fingertip along the outer edge of one. “Not too big or hairy.”
“Aw. You sure know how to make a man feel special.”
He winked and—oh my gosh—he actually blushed a little. My heart moved, it was so adorable. Was that why he wore a beard, because otherwise his face gave away every little emotion? His interest in me was written all over that handsome face, for one. I’d seen that look plenty of times, though Brett had played a little hard to get. I am closing the deal tonight if it kills me. Bedding Brett just might be worth dying for.
“I’m glad to get out tonight,” I said. “I’ve been working outside all afternoon, weeding the flower beds. I still have more to do.”
I had a sunburn on the back of my neck where I’d missed a spot when applying sunscreen. I could feel the darn thing and it was stinging. “I found a tick crawling on my arm.” I scratched at my hair, itchy at the thought that another one could be hiding there. “Have you ever had a tick bite, people walker?”
He grinned at that. “Not a bite, but I’ve found a few. I usually pick some up when I take people on hikes. One of the services I offer is checking for ticks.”
“Hmm. Maybe you could check me later.” It wasn’t meant to be sexy, I swear. There’s nothing sexy about checking another person for parasitic insects. But the look on his face—I started laughing. “That’s not flirting. I’m seriously feeling paranoid.” I kept running my fingernails across my scalp. “I don’t want to start off the school year with Lyme disease.”
Brett pointed to the shoulder of the highway. “You want me to stop here and comb your hair?”
“No. Of course not.” I was still laughing.
“Just a quick stop. I won’t even charge you. It will be a courtesy check. I’m pretty good at it. I can check you for lice while we’re at it.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous.” I pushed playfully on his shoulder, impressed by the muscle I felt there. “I’m fine. It’s fine. I don’t have ticks.” I don’t think.
“Suit yourself. Don’t say I didn’t offer.” Laughing felt good.
We pulled into the parking lot at the bar—silently, because we were in a Prius—and parked near the back. Of course we did, because Brett probably thinks nothing of walking from the back of a parking lot. He’s a professional walker. He offered me his arm and I looped mine through his, thinking that Lettie would love Brett. She would think he was wholesome and friendly. Maybe Brett wasn’t the most successful career man in the world, but I felt no shame when I walked into Chase and Jackie’s engagement party on his arm. For all anyone knew, this hot guy was a millionaire.
The first thing I noticed was the streamers. Goddamn paper streamers in a bar. They’d rented out the back room and brightened up the wooden walls with white balloons and party decorations. Shouldn’t be white, I thought, which was bitchy of me. “Good turnout,” I said out loud, because wow. I’d had no idea Chase and Jackie knew this many people.
Someone shoved a tray of food in front of us. “Pig in a blanket?”
The food was mini hot dogs wrapped in phyllo dough, and the woman must have been one of Jackie’s friends. She was wearing a light blue flowing tank with factory-ripped jeans and too much makeup. This was also a bitchy thought. I forced a polite smile. “No, thank you,” I said.
Brett held up a palm when the woman turned to him. “None for me, thanks.” When she wandered off with her tray, he looked to me with a shrug. “Should I grab us a drink?”
There were pitchers of beer on a table in the back of the room, but the beer looked pale yellow and flat. “I’m all set for now.”
I caught a glimpse of Chase and Jackie in a corner. Jackie was laughing with her mouth wide open and Chase was looking like he would rather be anywhere else. Beside me, Brett said, “Is that him?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice a whisper. “I should go over.”
“You want me to come?”
“No, that’s all right,” I said, too hastily. “You know, on second thought, yes. I’d like a drink. But maybe something at the bar?” Those pitchers just looked gross.
“Beer or cocktail? My treat,” he added when he saw me reach for my purse.
“Beer. Something on draft, preferably a stout from a microbrewery.”
He shot a look around the room at the old sports memorabilia and the wooden paneling. “You think this is a place for a beer snob to get a drink? I’ll surprise you.”
“Sounds good.”
I waited for him to leave the room before wandering over to Chase and Jackie. Chase did a double take when he saw me. A pained smile crossed his face. “Hey, Mindy.” Bless his heart, he did his best to sound upbeat, but he’d always been a terrible actor.
“Chase.” I nodded solemnly before flinging an arm around Jackie and shrieking, “Jackie! You look amazing, honey!”
“Eeek! I’m so happy you made it!” She gave me a big hug and wiggled her bottom a little. As we hugged, I caught a glimpse of Chase looking visibly uncomfortable.
“Oh my gosh, do you think I’d miss this for the world?” I stepped away and gave her stomach pooch a quick rub. “How are you feeling? You look incredible.”
I was a high school girl once. Homecoming queen, voted “Most Likely to Wear Designer Clothing” in senior year. I can be phony with the best of them when I need to be. It’s not that I’m afraid to be myself, but sometimes it’s not worth the effort.
Jackie looked down at her uterus zone. “I’m feeling great. No trouble at all. And look, I’m wearing Lit Chick!”
“Yes, you are.” I reached out to touch the fabric of her pink and white striped Emily (Dickinson) dress. It was actually super cute. “Did you buy that from me?”
“Sure did!”
She beamed, and I wondered how I’d missed that piece. I would’ve saved it for myself had I been in my right mind. “It looks great on you, Jackie.” That wasn’t phoniness, either. That dress looked like it was made for her.
Chase cleared his throat. Oh, right. Chase is here. I’d been doing an admirable job of ignoring him. “Did you come with Lettie, or—” He stopped, leaving the question unasked.
I smoothed my hair, feigning nonchalance. “I came with a date,” I said. “He’s getting drinks.”
His gaze darted to the door of the room, toward the bar. “Bring him over when he comes back. I want to meet him.” Chase smiled, but it seemed forced. Then he swallowed and took a swig from his bottle of beer.
“Sure.”
I was suddenly so glad that I hadn’t come alone, or with Lettie. Coming with a date sent Chase a very strong message that he needed to receive: I was over him. And standing there observing his obvious awkwardness, I did feel like I might be getting somewhere on that front. I certainly didn’t feel the discomfort that I’d expected to feel: that constant aching in my chest, that feeling that Chase was planning a new, joyful life with Jackie and leaving me behind. Maybe Jackie was joyful, but clearly he was not.
I excused myself as another of their guests approached, but I continued to observe Chase from a distance. He was shifting on his feet and his shoulders looked tight. He stood silently at Jackie’s side while she chatted people up. Now I sort of felt bad for him. I didn’t want him to not be happy. That’s not what you want for a person you care about, no matter how brutal they’ve been.
“Hey, try this.” Brett appeared at my side and pushed a frothy pint of stout into my hand. “I can’t believe it, but they have a fantastic tap selection. Everything is from a microbrewery.”
Brett’s eyes widened, and I smiled at his genuine amazement at the beer selection. He was the complete opposite of Chase in so many ways. Chase was so serious and cynical, always driving after some goal. He made me look like an optimist. Brett, by contrast, seemed straightforward and uncomplicated. Maybe that was what came of having a no-stress job like being a people walker?
“Would you believe me if I told you that this bar is known for its rare beers? It’s got one of the best selections in the area. Perfect for us beer snobs.” I winked.
Brett moved closer to my side. “Before I saw the taproom, no, I wouldn’t have believed you. But this is a pretty cool place.” His gaze roamed over the white decor. “The beer, at least.”
“Cheers to that.” I clinked his glass and took a sip from mine. The stout was rich, with notes of chocolate and coffee. “This is fabulous. I don’t think I’ve had a real beer in weeks. Maybe longer.”
“I take care of your needs,” Brett said softly, against my ear.
A thrill rushed through me at that. I shivered and dragged my finger down the front of his shirt. “I should put you to work more.” His face brightened with interest.
“You keep talking like that and I’m going to have to take you home.”
“Down, boy. Not just yet.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Chase standing alone by a bowl of red fruit punch with melted green and pink sorbet foam floating on top.
Brett must have followed my gaze. “Did you talk to him?”
I nodded. “Yes. And it was completely fine. Come here.” I grabbed Brett by the wrist. “I’ll introduce you to Chase.”
I delighted in the way Brett followed me, no questions asked. I savored the look on Chase’s face when he saw my companion. His blue eyes narrowed, his smile was slow to appear, and it seemed heavy when it finally did. I felt a little bit like a kid bringing someone special to show-and-tell. “Chase, this is my friend, Brett. Brett, Chase.”
The two men nodded and shook hands politely, but there was a bit of chest puffing from Chase. Brett didn’t seem too concerned. “Congratulations,” Brett said. “Mindy was telling me the wedding is in the fall?”
“Wedding in the fall, kid in the winter.” Chase looked me in the eye. “You’re next.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Wedding. Baby. You’re next.”
The statement hit me like a slap. He was actually wishing this fate on me, that I’d be saddled the way he was. “I don’t think so,” I said. “I make my own choices and I don’t choose either of those things. No offense.”
Chase looked down his nose at me. His manner was so cold. I’d never seen this side of him before. “We don’t always have a choice. Plus I know you.”
I was aware of Brett’s stiffening posture beside me, but I was focused on Chase. “You know me,” I repeated. “What’s that mean?”
“You’re just like me,” he replied. Damn, his tone was so icy. This wasn’t how friends were supposed to talk to each other, no matter how awkward things were! “It’s like I said a hundred times. You and I always manage to fuck things up.”
“Chase.” I gestured to our surroundings. “This is your engagement party. You’re getting married in a few weeks. What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb.”
Brett touched my elbow and attempted to pull me aside. “Come on, Mindy. Let’s go grab some food.”
I couldn’t allow Chase to have the final word in this conversation. I couldn’t allow him to try to define me, yet again. “You know what? You don’t know shit about me.”
But Chase wasn’t finished, either. He pointed at Brett with his beer bottle. “You realize you’re just another boy toy, don’t you? One of many. Trust me.”
I pushed him. It happened so quickly that I didn’t even think about it until Chase was stumbling backward into the wall. “How dare you,” I snarled.
“Mindy.” Brett set himself between me and Chase. “We should go. We don’t want to cause a scene.”
Too late. I saw eyes turning toward us, watching the scuffle. Shame heated my face. “You’re a jerk,” I said quietly. “Good luck. With everything.”
I set my drink down on a table and spun around, my eyes stinging with humiliation. I kept my head high until I was safely through the door, and that’s when I crumbled. Somewhere I heard Brett’s voice calling after me, but I couldn’t bear to turn around.
AFTER MINDY stormed out of the bar, I leaned into Chase. I was slightly taller than him, and physically dominant. “What the hell was that about?” I snarled.
“You should know she’s a whore,” he said. His voice rose despite his attempt to play it cool. “This week it’s you. Couple weeks ago she was standing in my driveway, begging me to fuck her. I mean, enjoy it while it lasts, dude.”
My vision blurred with rage. “You think this makes you a man, talking that way?” I said, quietly, for his ears only. “She’s a sweet girl.”
Chase’s lip curled. “Like I said. Enjoy it. Because she doesn’t care about you.”
That’s when I realized. Chase knew he was marrying the wrong person. There was no explanation but irrational jealousy. “I see what this is. It sucks to see her with someone else, doesn’t it?” I crept closer, until I could smell his cheap aftershave. “Don’t ever let me hear you talk to Mindy like that again.”
I noticed too late that Jackie was within earshot. She’d come over to Chase’s side, but now she was standing there with her eyes wide and her mouth open. I nodded at her as I stepped away. “Jackie. Sorry you heard that.” Then I turned and left to find Mindy.
I hated guys like Chase. I’d known too many of them. Tough guys who live to control others. Mindy stared at me as I approached her in the parking lot, my hands fisted tightly at my sides. Her makeup was running down her beautiful face. I wanted to carry her far away from that stupid bar.
I was numb, knowing full well what was going on between Chase and Mindy. She had feelings for him, and maybe he had feelings for her, too. And this wasn’t a date. I was just the guy she’d invited to make Chase jealous.