And, despite the fact there was no rent or mortgage to pay, the cost of living in general was not, unfortunately, free. It put a bit of a spanner in the works, to say the least.
This morning at the grocery store might have been the only time I’d ever been grateful for the fast-traveling gossip around our tourist town. There I was, happy as anything, picking up milk and a few other essentials—you know, wine, bacon, chocolate—and I overheard that Mr. Reeves was out a staff member after she left on maternity leave. Apparently the “poor man” was struggling to find a replacement as nobody else on the island is qualified, so, me being me—and my sister being my bossy sister—called.
Long story short, or not really, here I was. Interviewing.
“Won’t doing both things be too much for you?” Mr. Reeves questioned. “The website needs regular updates. Unfortunately, I’m not so great with the technology.”
“Not at all. I have a laptop so I can work from anywhere if there’s a WiFi connection.” I paused. “And being around the Walkers will mean being around Camille, and Camille knows everything that goes on here.”
He pointed his pen at me with an approving raise of his eyebrows. “That is very true.”
I smiled. “The change of pace would be nice.” And the check William handed me yesterday would allow me to sell my car and buy a new one here. My rental was eating into my savings.
“Let’s run you on a trial.” Mr. Reeves opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a plastic folder. He handed it to me. “These are the last few articles Quinn typed up before she left. See what you can do with them, and I’ll read over the ones you gave me. Be here at eight a.m. tomorrow with at least one of those articles done and ready to run. If I’m impressed, I have something I’d like you to do for me. That sound okay to you, Ms. Montana?”
“Lani.” I smiled, picking my purse up from the floor. “Perfect.”
We stood and shook hands.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Lani.” He opened the door to his office and held it for me to walk through. He did the same with the outer door to the small building, and I bid him goodbye before stepping out onto the sidewalk.
The hot, humid air was only worsened by the thick yet gentle sea breeze coming of the ocean at the end of the block. The breeze was warm, damn it. I might have grown up in that thick, sticky air, but I was so used to it not being humid that this was quite uncomfortable.
Ugh.
I tugged the strap of my purse up onto my shoulder properly and ran my fingers through my hair. I had no idea what time it was, so I pulled out my phone and glanced at the clock. It was a little too early for lunch, but my eyes were drawn to the tiny message icon in the top, right corner.
I stepped back against the wall to avoid the runner making his way toward me. He half-heartedly threw up a hand in thanks as he passed me, so I called a, “You’re welcome!” and typed in the passcode for my phone.
Unknown: I hope you know I don’t plan on dressing up.
I frowned and hit reply.
Me: Sorry, who is this? I think you have the wrong number.
The reply flashed on my screen before I reached the end of the block.
Unknown: Remember the time I made you write up my book review of Romeo and Juliet and you did that book by Jane someone to teach me a lesson?
My heart thumped as it sunk to the pit of my stomach. Brett. Damn it. How did he get my number?
I diverted into the coffee shop on the seafront and took my place in line.
Me: Remember the time you didn’t have my phone number? I do. I liked it.
Brett: You got sassy.
Me: No, I learned how to stop taking shit from people like you.
Me: And it was Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. God.
I hated myself for rising to that bait. But, hey. He totally deserved that. He never asked me to do it again. Sure, he asked me for help, but he never made me do it.
“Can I just get a regular latte, please?” I asked the person behind the counter.
“Sure. To go?”
“Please.”
The girl grabbed a cup. “What’s your name?”
“Lani.” I smiled and looked at my phone as it buzzed.
“Lana?”
“Lani.” I tried not to roll my eyes. Was it that hard, really?
The girl put the cup down. “Lani—Lani Montana?”
I tapped the code into my phone and peered up. I didn’t recognize the blond-haired girl now looking at me with wide eyes. “Um, yes?”
She broke out into a wide smile. “It’s Yvonne. Yvonne Fisher.”
I blinked at her stupidly for a moment before the image of a seventeen-year-old with braces and an awkward persona flashed in my mind. “Oh my god! We had AP Lit together, right?”
She smiled either. “We did!”
Do I have to make small talk now?
“Wow. Sorry, I didn’t recognize you there.” I swiped my card down the machine as my phone vibrated in my hand. Crap—I must have switched the setting. I hated touchscreens at the best of times. I glanced down at the screen and saw Brett’s number with another message. “Sorry. This is important.” I smiled and walked to the other end of the counter, my nose in my phone.
Brett: That was it. The one where he had too much pride and she had too much prejudice.
Brett: I didn’t Google it, by the way.
Me: Asking your mom doesn’t count.
Brett: Shit.
An old, unwelcome feeling tickled across my skin. I knew why. That exchange felt a little too much like when we were best friends.
I shivered. That sensation really was out of place. We weren’t best friends, and I sure as hell shouldn’t be texting him like we were.
Me: Is there a reason you’re texting me? Because I just told Yvonne Fisher this was important and I have yet to see how it is.
Brett: You wound me.
Me: Yeah, I can see the gunshot hole from here.
Brett: Where is here?
Me: Hopefully the other side of town to you.
“Lani?” Yvonne asked. “Here’s your coffee.”
“Oh, thanks.” I took the cup from her and glanced back down at my phone. He hadn’t replied. Good.
“Hey, Brett Walker is outside. Is he waiting for you?”
“Son of a—” I stopped when she looked at me with wide eyes. “It’s hot,” I offered lamely.
“That happens.” She smiled a little too wide. “So, Brett? For you?”
God, I hoped not.
I looked out toward the window, and yep, there he was. Brett Walker in all his unfairly sexy glory with a smirk as equally hot curving his lips.
“Yep.” I faked a smile and stepped toward the door. Damn that bastard for cornering me. “It was good to see you again, Yvonne.”
“You too, Lani. If you’re free one night, call me. I’d love to catch up.”
“Sure!” I left before she could consider giving me her number.
The coffee shop door slammed behind me. I barely gave Brett a dirty look before turning and heading in the opposite direction to where he was standing.
“Whoa. Is that the first coffee of the day?”
“What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped. “And yes, actually, it is. But don’t think I’m averse to throwing it over your smug little face.”
He held his hands up, his expression not changing at all. “Coincidence, I swear. I was walking past and saw you.”