A Lot Like Love

by Jennifer Snow

  That’s what she’d tell herself.

  Jessica moved around to the other side of the counter to get a better look at Lia’s photos.

  “Ugh,” Lia said, unlocking her phone screen with her thumbprint.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, just a text from my brother, Mitch…” she read quickly. “He’s not going to make it to the reunion after all. He has to be in Cambodia until December.” Her beaming smile made Jessica frown.

  “Isn’t that a bad thing—that he’ll miss it?” Jessica asked, shooting a look at Sarah above Lia’s head.

  She hates him, Sarah mouthed.

  “Oh, of course,” Lia said quickly, but her smile didn’t completely disappear. “He’ll be missed.”

  Not by her, by the sound of it.

  “I would just feel bad for those sick kids if he abandoned them early, that’s all,” she said tightly.

  It didn’t escape Sarah’s notice that she could have planned the reunion for a time that Mitch could actually attend. Leaving him out on purpose, maybe? Not to have the spotlight stolen from her for a change? Everyone loved Mitch. He was almost ten years older than they were, so they were never close friends, but having an older brother who looked out for her was just another thing Lia had that Sarah had envied. Lia didn’t count herself quite so lucky, having to fight for her parents’ attention and approval.

  “He’s working over there?” Jessica asked.

  Lia nodded. “Doctors Without Borders. He gave up his practice in L.A. two years ago to travel with them.”

  “Wow, that’s incredibly noble…” Jessica stopped. Lia’s glare was absolutely paralyzing. “You were going to show me pics of Everest,” she said.

  “Yes, I was,” Lia said, scrolling through thousands of photos—a lot of selfies—to find them.

  The phone on the wall rang, and Lia squinted as though not recognizing it. “Is that a landline?”

  Jessica laughed. Everyone gave her heck for it, but her friend didn’t care. She refused to put her cell phone number on her website or business card, claiming work-life balance was important. She said customers could place their orders online or leave a message. Sarah had mad respect for her friend’s ability to run a successful business without becoming a workaholic. She’d love to know the secret.

  Maybe if she didn’t work for someone else, she could set her own boundaries, make her own hours, take on the clients and projects she wanted…

  But Jessica had put years into building up her business and reputation in town. Could Sarah really take that leap of faith?

  …

  Wes fixed his tie as he waited in the lobby of the bank on Main Street. Dustin hadn’t wasted any time getting him in to see the loan manager, and while he appreciated his brother-in-law’s help, he couldn’t shake the nagging uncertainty in the pit of his stomach.

  He’d already lost the office space once before. He’d hate to get in there and have to close up again if things didn’t go as planned, if his goal to expand his business failed. He had a good reputation in town, and people in the community would support him, but would that be enough without actual construction accounts?

  Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten there so early; waiting was torture. He wasn’t concerned about the loan. Despite his financial setbacks, he still maintained good credit, and he had a small retirement savings account he could use to secure the loan, but that would be a risk he wasn’t sure he was prepared to take.

  “Wes?” The loan officer appeared in the lobby. Shawn Loder had worked at the Blue Moon Bay branch since Wes had applied for his mortgage years before. The man wasn’t originally from town, having grown up in L.A. but he’d been in town so long, no one held that against him.

  “Hey, Shawn, thanks for seeing me,” he said as he stood and, after wiping his palm on the leg of his pants, extended a hand to the other man.

  Shawn nodded enthusiastically as he pumped Wes’s hand somewhat longer than necessary. “Yes, yes! Come on into my office.”

  Wes entered, and Shawn closed the door behind him.

  “Have a seat,” he said.

  Wes sat in the soft, plush leather chair and immediately noticed all the items on Shawn’s desk with the Rams logo. His mug, the picture frame holding a photo of Shawn at a Rams game wearing a team jersey and holding a foam finger, a plush toy, and a water bottle. “Fan of the Rams?”

  Shawn laughed as he sat behind the desk. “Guilty.” Lifting his foot into the air, he pulled up the leg of his dress pants to reveal Rams logo socks; then he leaned forward. “Gotta say, I’m kinda fangirling a little on the inside right now.”

  Wes forced a smile. “Well, I only played a few seasons…” While it was nice and to be expected that everyone still associated him with football, he really wanted to move on and be known within the community for his new endeavor. He may not be able to be a source of local sports pride anymore, but he could help families in the community have their dream homes with new affordable developments.

  Shawn nodded, his light-brown hair falling into his eyes. “That must have been incredible. Being in the action, tasting the blood and sweat out on the field, the rush of adrenaline and the roar of the crowd.”

  Obviously they weren’t done talking about football. “Yeah, it was amazing.” While it lasted. “Do you play?” The man was six foot and about 110 pounds, but Wes had definitely asked the right question.

  “Only beer leagues, but I’m pretty good. Fast,” he said with a look of pride. “Hey, you should come out and play sometime.”

  “Yeah, sure, yeah…” He cleared his throat. “So, about the loan application, I was wondering how soon I’d know.” If he was going ahead with this, he didn’t want to lose out on the space to someone else. And the faster he could get the ball rolling, the less time he had to chicken out.

  Shawn sat straighter and turned to his computer. “Usually takes about a week or ten days.” He reached for several documents on the printer behind him and slid them across the desk toward Wes. “Just fill these out, and we can get the process started.”

  “Great,” Wes said, reaching for a pen and hesitating only briefly before starting to answer the questions. He was painfully aware of Shawn’s starstruck gaze on him. He paused and glanced up at the man. “Okay, hand it over,” he said.

  Shawn reached into his desk and produced Wes’s football collectible card. “Can you personalize it?”

  Wes sighed. “Sure thing.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Why had she tried to keep up with Lia on that ridiculous run the day before? Already the muscles in Sarah’s legs ached, and the hot shower hadn’t helped.

  She’d barely had any time alone since the woman’s arrival, and she’d had to sneak away while Lia was on a call. Sarah was convinced she didn’t sleep—up well past midnight the night before planning the catering menu and then knocking on Sarah’s bedroom door before seven a.m. that morning to go over the table and chair rentals.

  They still had twelve days before the reunion, but Lia was hell-bent on finalizing all the details right away. Sarah was creative when it came to figuring out solutions to technological issues or designing new ways for people to communicate across distances, but coming up with pretty party decorations or knowing how to communicate with large groups of people face-to-face were skills that eluded her.

  Wrapping one of the new, oversize terry-cloth bath towels around herself, she heard her cell chime with a new text message from Whitney.

  “Ow…ow…ow,” Sarah said, practically sliding her slippers across the hardwood floor of the bedroom. She wouldn’t even think about tackling the stairs. Maybe she could slide the rail like she did as a child. Either way, the bending of the knees was not happening today. And maybe not tomorrow.

  She picked up her phone and opened the message.

  Check your email—I just sent over th
e reopening/sale brochure design for your approval.

  Sarah sighed. Reopening/sale brochure. Seemed almost like an oxymoron. She was going through all this trouble to turn the B&B into something amazing…then she was giving it up. But that was the plan, and that’s what she’d told Whitney she wanted.

  Whitney never let up once she was committed to something, and while Sarah appreciated her friend taking time out of her busy schedule to get the ball rolling on selling the place after the reunion, it meant leaving Blue Moon Bay, and her heart was suddenly conflicted. Which was strange. It was the right thing to do. Hell, the only thing to do. Letting teenage fantasies and one amazing kiss throw her off course would be ridiculous. She wasn’t cut out for running a B&B.

  Did you check yet?

  Wow, her friend had friendly harassment down to a science. No wonder she was so successful.

  Going to her laptop on the desk, Sarah opened her email and clicked on the link from Whitney. Vibrant, high-quality brochures featuring the photos Sarah sent her the day before of the B&B with its new exterior and solar panels lit up the screen.

  A newly renovated B&B in a picturesque location that maintains its charm while providing modern-day conveniences with a breathtaking view of the ocean is the perfect choice for your next investment. Submit your offer on this property today and get updates once the sale auction begins!

  Sale auction. Wow. It sounded impressive as hell. Would there be more than one buyer interested in the place? That would be amazing if she could really get a great price for it. So why didn’t she feel more excited about that possibility?

  Scrolling through the three-page design that would become a trifold flyer, Sarah almost couldn’t believe it was the same place she’d walked into weeks before. She might actually believe this was the place to stay on the California coast, like the description claimed.

  All thanks to Wes.

  He hadn’t been there the day before, but his crew had arrived and were still working hard to finish the balconies. It was hard to think that his absence was because of anything else other than the kiss, and it was weird not seeing him there, even if it would be awkward. Either way, he hadn’t been far from her thoughts.

  If she could go back in time and rethink her actions, would she have held back? As embarrassing as the aftermath had been, she didn’t entirely regret the kiss. It had been mind-blowing and knee-weakening and everything else she’d heard a good kiss should be, and after all these years keeping her feelings to herself, she’d put herself out there.

  And it wasn’t as though Wes hadn’t been into the kiss. She still had a pair of jeans with the ass covered in paint to prove it.

  At least she’d have a new memory now besides an almost chance she didn’t take.

  A loud knock on the door made her jump. “Sarah! You in there?”

  Sarah held her breath and froze, watching the door handle wiggle.

  Seriously? Where was Lia’s sense of privacy? Thank God she’d locked the door before showering.

  “Sarah!”

  There was no way she was opening it. She needed some time to herself. If she had to endure another story about Malcolm and their fantastic, perfect little life, she was going to explode.

  She was happy for Lia—mostly—she just didn’t like to be reminded of her own shortcomings ten times in the same day. Lia had the successful career and the loving husband. Sarah was still single and contemplating the career she’d thought she wanted.

  She waited until she heard Lia’s footsteps descend the stairs before picking up her phone and texting Whitney. Amazing. As usual.

  Whitney’s reply was immediate. Fill in the info I left blank regarding your preferred contact and I’ll get these sent to promotions for printing.

  Did her friend ever just pause for a second? Sarah wished she could move ahead with things as fast as Whitney. There shouldn’t be any reason to hesitate, but she still had reservations. Over the last few weeks, the idea of selling had grown increasingly murkier. As the place slowly came back to life, so did the feeling of being somewhere that felt like home, a place she’d always been safe… L.A. with its constant hustle and ever-changing mood for what was “in” and “now” meant always adjusting.

  Dove’s Nest offered consistency and the opportunity to slow the roll a little. But was it just the inn making her contemplate her future or a certain father/daughter duo who’d lodged themselves in her heart?

  Seeing her grandmother’s journal, she picked it up and sat out on the new deck off the room. Wes had instructed the crew to finish hers first so she’d have an opportunity to enjoy it, and the view of the bay and ocean from there was spectacular. The mid-morning waves crashing on the sand, getting bigger and louder as each new one rolled in was one of the best sounds for a frazzled mind and conflicted heart.

  If she sat there long enough, maybe they’d whisper the answers she was looking for.

  Sitting on the rocking chair she’d moved out there, she opened the journal to the next entry. She hadn’t read any more since the first one, but that day, she was looking for inspiration any way she could get it.

  As before, the next entry started as a letter to her grandmother’s mystery man.

  Dear Jack,

  The world looks so different these days. The changes are scary, but some of them are also exciting. Factories all over the country are hiring women to fill the positions vacated by the men. The San Francisco Bay Area is in desperate need of workers to weld ships and rivet bombers. I know you would hate to think of me working to further this war, but I’m considering it.

  The war is happening all around us, and peace is just a dream. No one is vacationing these days. Young families are either struggling to pay the bills or the mothers are leaving their homes to fill these vacant factory positions, so the coast has been quiet. I had one guest here last month, and I fear I won’t be able to keep the inn open much longer.

  The idea of closing the doors and selling it makes me tear up. This is my home. This was the place we first fell in love. You being away is hard on my heart, but at least I feel you here. You’re everywhere—in the ocean air, whispering through the leaves, in the rain falling from dark clouds.

  If I leave here, I’m afraid I’ll lose you even more.

  But going to work in the factories would mean being able to afford to keep the inn and just maybe, I’d feel even closer to you through our mutual efforts in this fight for peace.

  No matter what I decide, you will be in my thoughts and in my heart.

  Stay safe. Come home to me.

  Yours in love,

  Dove

  Tucked inside the journal behind the entry was a tattered, faded propaganda ad for Rosie the Riveter. A shiver ran through her simply holding the first real feminist empowerment movement. The strong, powerful message resonated with her now more than ever in this turbulent social and cultural climate. She knew from her grandmother’s stories that she had closed the inn and gone to San Francisco for a year, working on the dock factories, welding ships.

  She’d done it to save the inn and to feel closer to the man she loved.

  Sarah closed the journal and sighed. An eerie sense of history repeating itself washed over her like the waves on the sand in the distance.

  What would have happened if her grandmother had sold the inn when times were tough and played it safer with an office job, which was customary, instead of rolling up her sleeves in a factory position?

  How different would life have been for them all?

  As much as Sarah loved the city, she adored her hometown. She couldn’t imagine having grown up anywhere else.

  And now, she was facing a similar dilemma that her grandmother had so many years ago. Her grandmother had chosen to stick to her dream and do whatever was necessary to protect it.

  But what did that mean for her? Which path would be following her dr
eam? Staying and pouring her heart into this new business—and launching her own side hustle doing what she loved—or working for an established company, doing what was expected of her until someday she had the confidence to break out on her own?

  She continued to read several other entries, detailing her grandmother’s journey to San Francisco and the early days on the job, marveling over her strength and commitment. She’d always known her grandmother was an amazing woman, but this inside glimpse into her heart and mind had Sarah wishing she’d had just a little more time with her.

  Seeing Jessica’s car pull into the driveway an hour later, she put the journal aside and headed downstairs, her legs screaming in pain with each step.

  “Hey, were you up there the whole time?”

  Lia’s voice on the landing behind her would have made her jump if her legs were capable. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

  “Is that Jess and Whitney?” Lia asked, hot on her heels. As usual.

  “Yes,” she said, wincing in pain on the last step. So much for hoping maybe Lia would go visit her parents that evening so she could have her girls’ night with her friends without her.

  Lia frowned as she glanced at her legs. “What’s wrong? Why are you walking weird?”

  “Oh jeez, I don’t know. Could be the ten-mile run you forced me to do,” she mumbled as she opened the front door. “Hey, guys,” she said, never more grateful to see her friends. Maybe Lia would leave them to visit alone? Nope, instead she invited herself to girls’ night.

  “Yay, this is going to be so much fun. I can’t wait to hear all the latest gossip.”

  Lia loved gossip. In high school, she knew everything about everyone and had no problem sharing her knowledge. She’d even started a gossip rag in junior high and used the printer in the school library to circulate copies of her newsworthy headlines like Who Wore the Same Dress to the Fall Dance and Who is Crushing on Whom…until the school shut her down, thanks to Sarah’s anonymous tip. She’d caught a glimpse of the upcoming issue while Lia was working on it in the school computer lab, and Sarah refused to have her secret crush on Wes revealed to the entire school.