The Promise of Paradise

Chapter Thirteen


“Marty had to go outta town,” J.T. informed Ash as soon as she walked into the restaurant that evening.

“Oh. Okay.” She wasn’t sure what that had to do with her.

“He said you’re supposed to be in charge ‘til he gets back.” J.T. stuck a toothpick into his mouth and wiped down the empty bar.

Ash stopped. “What are you talking about?”

The bartender flipped a glass and slid it into place on the shelf. “Here.” He fished in his front pocket for a slip of paper. Ash recognized Marty’s scrawl on the back of the wrinkled receipt as J.T. handed it over.

Ash, please take over tonight. You know where the keys are. Money goes in the safe. Be back tomorrow. M.

She sagged onto a stool. “Why me?”

The bartender shrugged. “Why not?”

Ash dropped her head onto one hand and stared at the note. Take over? Well, how hard could it be, really, to empty out the two registers at the end of the night and lock up the money? She knew the rest of the routine: how to wipe down and secure everything in the kitchen, where to put the trash out back, how to set the alarm when she left. Marty had shown her all that weeks ago. Bobby V., the kitchen’s head cook, had worked at the place longer than Marty had run it. And J.T. was in charge of the bar.

“Okay.” She headed for the kitchen. She’d give it a try. Tuesdays never drew a big crowd anyway. And it didn’t look as though she had much choice. How much could she screw up in a single night? “You all set out here?”

J.T. winked when she glanced back at him. “All set, boss.”

She gave him a dirty look and decided not to answer.

* * *

“You did good,” the bartender said a few hours later. They sat across from each other and stared at an infomercial scrolling across the television screen.

“Yeah? Thanks.” Exhausted but secretly pleased with herself, Ash reviewed the night. Only a handful of tables, but that wasn’t unusual for a weekday, and J.T. had done a decent business at the bar. She’d even managed to handle Betty June, the widow who complained about everything from the temperature of her steak to the number of ice cubes in her drink. By the end of her meal, thanks to a couple of questions about her cats and a compliment of her wide-brimmed hat, the woman had practically beamed at Ash as she left.

“You should be in charge more often.” J.T. stacked glasses. “You’re damn better lookin’ than Marty, anyway.”

“Maybe he’ll give me a raise.”

The bartender laughed. “Keep dreaming, honey.”

Ash laughed too. “I guess you’re right.” Still, she wouldn’t mind the extra responsibility. It had been nice, moving about the dining room, checking on customers, answering the phone, and organizing the kitchen in a way she didn’t dare when the manager hung over her shoulder. It made her feel like she wasn’t completely wasting her summer.

Part-time night manager at Blues and Booze? Not a bad way to spend the next few weeks. Maybe she’d talk to Marty about it after all.

* * *

The following night, Ash lay in the bathtub and ran a washcloth across her stomach. Bare toenails peeked at her from beneath the bubbles. She balanced her head on the edge of the tub and let her hair float on the water around her chin. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the waves of raspberry from the candles that flickered on the windowsill. Etta James sang to her from the living room. She hummed to the music and let herself float until the water began to cool.

She hadn’t seen Eddie at all today, but she guessed he’d probably agreed to a double shift at the shop, since he was taking tomorrow off for their party. She couldn’t wait to tell him about the manager position. She’d asked Marty about it earlier, and he’d nearly fallen over in agreement. The stingy guy had even agreed to pay her fifty cents more an hour. Ash smiled and wondered what her sisters, with their six-figure salaries, would say if they knew. She sank lower in the tub and decided she didn’t care. For the first time in her life, she’d chosen her own path, one that curved away from the Kirk family one. So what if it only lasted for a month or so? She still liked the way it felt.

The ring of her cell phone woke her. One wet hand emerged from the water and lifted it from the bathmat. Jen, probably. Ash didn’t bother to look at the screen. She’s probably checking to see what time she and Lucas should get here tomorrow. Or maybe it was Eddie, remembering one more thing he wanted to bring for food. Ash smiled.

“Hello?”

For a moment she heard nothing but silence on the other end of the line. Then a too-familiar voice spoke her name. Her real name. “Ashton?”

Colin. Oh my God. Her eyes flew open, and she sat up in the tub, shaking. Ash stared at the phone as if it had suddenly grown a mouth all its own. For a moment, she thought about hanging up. She didn’t owe Colin anything. He hadn’t called her in almost two months. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing her voice.

But she couldn’t hang up. Instead she sat there, dripping, hand frozen to the phone.

“Ash, it’s me.”

As if she didn’t know. As if she could forget the voice that had broken her heart just a few months earlier.

“I know who it is.” She pulled the plug from the drain and reached for a towel, shivering as cool air brushed her damp skin.

“How’ve you been?” He sounded nervous, and she was glad.

What’s with the small talk? “I’m fine.”

“That’s good.” He cleared his throat. “How are your sisters?”

You should know, considering you talked to Jess a couple of weeks ago. “They’re fine too, I guess.” She paused. “What do you want?”

“I…” Colin hesitated. “I miss you.”

Ash dropped the towel and headed into her bedroom. Like hell you do. He wanted something. Or he needed something. He couldn’t have gotten tired of Callie already. She stuck her arms through the sleeves of her robe and sank onto the bed. Rubbing her temple with one hand, she tried to squelch the other thought that insisted on rearing its head.

I miss you too.

“What am I supposed to say to that? You made it pretty clear two months ago that you wanted time. Space. Callie Halliway.” She spoke the name without breaking and was proud of herself. “Besides, you were so embarrassed by everything that happened with my father that you couldn’t wait to get away from it all. Remember?”

“I made a mistake. Please. It’s over with me and Callie. It never was much of anything to begin with.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“Jess told me you took a summer place somewhere up north. Tell me where it is. I’ll come up. Tomorrow. Tonight. Or you come home. Please.” His words spilled out, anxious and awkward. “I want us to try again. I was wrong…I’m sorry.”

Ash closed her eyes. Don’t say that. She couldn’t bear to hear the remorse in Colin’s voice. She couldn’t afford to give in to his pleas, not after working so hard to get over him. And yet she couldn’t resist them either, despite her best efforts. Sighing, she let the weight of memory roll across her heart. In a flash, it all came back: Colin’s serious expression above her in bed, his hands in her hair, his cheek twitching at the beginning of a smile. His arm around her waist as they crossed campus. His wink as they took notes through class, side by side. His name. His family. God, she’d fallen so hard, so fast, without a thought of what might come after the breathlessness.

After the letter, she’d begun the grim task of shuttering up her heart, piling brick upon brick to seal out the hurt. Now here he was, calling and pretending an apology and a little attention could make everything all right? Brittle tears made their way up her throat.

“Ashton?”

“I can’t do this.”

“Please—”

“I’m not telling you where I am. And I’m not coming home. I need to figure things out.” She picked at a thread in her quilt.

“I miss you,” he said again, and the words tore at her heart.

She pictured Colin’s eyes, liquid and pleading. Her resolve weakened. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe she should give him a second chance.

“Will you at least think about it?”

She took a deep breath. No, she wanted to say. I won’t think about it. It’s over, and I’m moving on without you. But the pull of his voice and the memories it held were too strong.

“Maybe.” The thread yanked free from the quilt and left a tiny hole in the pink fabric. She twisted it around her finger and wondered how much of a mistake she was making. “Maybe I’ll think about it.”

“I really want to work things out.”

She tightened her hand around the phone. “I have to go.” She hung up before he could say anything else.

Stunned, unable to form any kind of coherent thought, Ash pulled down the window shade and sat in silence. Colin…after all this time. She rolled onto her stomach and pressed her face into the pillow. Tears welled up, and this time, she let them come. Maybe on another day, she would have known better, would have turned up the music on the stereo, would have opened all the windows to let evening light flood in. Maybe on another day, she would have turned her back on that piece of her life that still bled when she poked at the scar.

But it wasn’t another day. It wasn’t far enough from the past. Ash was a Kirk daughter, a Harvard graduate, and she’d had every intention of marrying Colin Parker. She’d planned on opening a joint law practice with him, having his children, moving into his family’s estate with the wide porch and thriving flowerbeds. Until two months ago.

He wants me back? He wants to try again?

A few weeks ago, Ash would have leapt into his arms. But now? Now, she didn’t know. To her surprise, a few weeks in Paradise had started to change things. She stared into the blackness behind her eyelids and pursed her lips until Colin’s face disappeared, and she could no longer hear his voice ringing against the hollow behind her cheekbones. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. For the moment, he was gone. Now she just had to figure out how to make him stay there.