“Caroline,” she heard a man call over the sound of the ocean waves, the easy authority of his voice rising above the screech of the seagulls swooping across the sand. “Over here.”
Jerrod Bolton was standing beneath a navy canvas umbrella, half in, half out of his white plastic chair, waving her over. In the years since she’d last seen him, he’d put on a few pounds and lost most of his hair, the shine of his now bald head accentuated by the loud orange-and-white-flowered print of the Tommy Bahama shirt he wore. Other than that, he was as nondescript as ever, Caroline decided as she walked toward him. If she hadn’t been expecting to see him, she doubted she would have recognized him. It was strange: he’d been part of the worst, most difficult time of her life, and yet she might have passed him in the street a thousand times over the past fifteen years without even knowing.
“You’re looking as beautiful as ever,” he said as she approached. He took her hands and pulled her forward to kiss her on both cheeks. “The way the French do,” he said with a grin.
“How’ve you been?” Caroline asked, sitting down.
“Wonderful. Health is good. Business is great. I can’t get over how lovely you look. Really, you haven’t changed a bit.”
She was wearing only a minimal amount of makeup and a shapeless yellow sundress. The humidity was playing havoc with her hair. “I doubt that’s true.”
“It’s true. Trust me.”
Why should I trust you? Caroline thought.
The waiter approached.
“What would you like to drink?” Jerrod asked.
Caroline shrugged. She normally didn’t drink in the afternoon, and she didn’t know much about wine.
“How about some champagne?” he asked, not waiting for her answer before ordering a bottle of Dom Pérignon.
Caroline knew even less about champagne than she knew about wine, but she knew that Dom Pérignon was one of the most expensive champagnes you could buy. “Are we celebrating?”
“You might say that.”
“What would you say?”
He smiled. “That having lunch with a beautiful woman is reason enough for celebration.”
Was he coming on to her? Was that the reason he’d phoned? “How’s Rain?” she asked pointedly.
“Sharp as a tack,” he said with a smile. “And about as pleasant.”
“Excuse me?”
“We’re separated.”
“Oh.” Caroline sank back in her chair.
“You seem surprised.”
“I guess I am. You seemed so crazy about each other.”
“I was crazy about her. She was just crazy.” He winked.
“I’m sorry,” Caroline said, ignoring the wink. While she and Rain had never been close, she had no interest in sitting here listening to him bad-mouth the woman. She’d heard enough bad-mouthing when Steve and Becky were going through their divorce. “You sound as if you’re having a difficult time.”
“I admit it hasn’t been easy.”
Was that why he’d called? Because he needed a shoulder to cry on? Did he have no one else to confide in?
The waiter returned with their champagne, popped the cork expertly and efficiently, and poured two glasses.
“To fresh starts,” Jerrod said, clicking his glass against hers.
Caroline reluctantly brought the glass to her lips and took a sip, feeling the bubbles tickle the tip of her nose. “I’m sorry, Jerrod. I don’t mean to be rude, but why am I here?”
“You’ve never heard of two old friends getting together?”
“I haven’t seen you in fifteen years,” Caroline reminded him. “Even then, you were more Hunter’s friend than mine.”
“Yes, well, so much for that.”
“So much for what?”
“You really have no idea what I’m talking about,” Jerrod stated more than asked. He took another sip of his champagne.
“I really don’t.”
The waiter approached with their menus.
“Do you mind if I order for us?” Jerrod asked. “They make the most fabulous shrimp salad. I really think you’ll love it.”
Caroline nodded, feeling her appetite already disappearing. If this was the way Jerrod had behaved during his marriage, then all her sympathies rested with Rain. It was a wonder their union had survived as long as it had.
“Two shrimp salads. And could we have some bread, please? Thank you.”
“You said on the phone that you’d recently learned some things that might interest me,” Caroline said as soon as the waiter retreated.
“Absolutely true.”
“Are you going to tell me what they are or are you going to make me guess?”
“It’s about your former husband and my soon-to-be-ex-wife.”
“What about them?”
“You still haven’t guessed?”
“I’m lousy at guessing games.”
“They were having an affair,” he said matter-of-factly.