Cape Light

by Thomas Kinkade

  She settled down to work, but her thoughts wandered back to Sam Morgan. They’d never been friendly in school. But, of course, she’d had a certain notoriety back then. The poor little rich girl who wasn’t so rich anymore. She’d been a real honor-roll grind then, partly because Lillian would accept no less, but also because keeping her head stuck in a book had been the perfect way to hide out.

  Jessica didn’t like being recognized by people she grew up with. She was sure that once they remembered her, they remembered the scandal that had toppled her family from their social perch. Even now, with Emily being an extremely respectable mayor, memories of the way people had talked about their family still made Jessica uncomfortable. That was one of the reasons she’d moved to the city.

  Sam had to be about three or four years older than she was, Jessica remembered. The Morgans were a big family with maybe five or six kids. He had a sister her own age, she now recalled. Margie? No, it was Molly. Molly had been sort of a wild type.

  Molly still lived in town, too, Jessica was sure of that. Her last name was Willoughby now. She was a single mother, divorced, who took a lot of odd jobs to make ends meet. Emily had mentioned something just last week about hiring Molly to do some cooking and cleaning for their mother, the latest entry in a long parade of household help that had come and gone. Well, Molly had always been pretty tough. Maybe she was even tough enough to put up with Lillian.

  “Hi, Jessica. What are you doing working in here?”

  Jessica looked up to see her friend Suzanne pouring herself a cup of coffee. “My office has turned into a construction site. In case you didn’t notice.”

  “Believe me, I noticed. Who’s the masked man? He looks like a superhero with power tools.”

  Jessica laughed despite herself. Suzanne was a great friend but had a completely different perspective when it came to men.

  “His name is Sam Morgan. And the faster he disappears, the happier I’ll be. Though so far, he seems like a nice guy.” Jessica didn’t know why she felt obliged to add that last part. It had just popped out.

  “I’d put up with a little sawdust to hang out with him,” Suzanne said as she stirred her coffee. “Maybe he’ll have lunch with us.”

  The idea surprised Jessica. Suzanne was a lot bolder than she could ever be. She’d never think of inviting a guy like Sam to lunch, though there was really nothing wrong with it.

  “Sorry,” Jessica said. “I already have a lunch date.”

  “I thought something was going on with you.” Suzanne sounded intrigued. “Either a date or a job interview. By the way, your hair looks really nice like that.”

  “Thanks. It wasn’t easy,” Jessica admitted. Her long, reddish brown hair had a strong, natural curl; it was always a challenge to get it looking neat and “professional.” She’d worked hard this morning to pin it up in a sleek French twist.

  “Of course I expect a full report,” Suzanne added in an official tone.

  Jessica laughed. “I’ll come straight to see you when I get back. Promise.”

  “Meanwhile, maybe I can talk somebody around here into sending Sam Morgan to work in my office tomorrow. I could really use some bookshelves,” Suzanne mused. “If you don’t mind, of course.”

  “Mind? Why should I mind?”

  “Well, he was in your office first,” Suzanne teased her.

  “Don’t be silly. I don’t have any feelings about it, one way or the other.” Jessica shook her head and turned her attention back to work.

  But try as she might, she had trouble concentrating on her spreadsheets. For some unfathomable, irritating reason, Sam Morgan kept drifting into her mind.

  Okay, Jessica told herself. So he was extremely attractive. In that muscle-bound workman sort of way. And yes, he was even pleasant to talk with. But he absolutely didn’t qualify as a romantic possibility for her. How could she even consider such a thing, especially when Paul was on his way to take her out to lunch.

  No question. Suzanne could have Sam Morgan.

  For some reason this final conclusion irked her. She didn’t know why . . . but it definitely did.

  Five minutes before Paul was due to arrive, Jessica brought her file folders back to her office. Sam was still working, measuring something that looked like it would be part of the window frame. “How’s it going?” she asked.

  He looked up. “Fine. How’s it going with you? Did you find someplace to work?”

  “Yes, I did. Out in the coffee room,” she explained as she placed the folders back in the desk drawer.

  “Wise move,” he said, glancing at the huge hole in her wall. “It got a little drafty in here.”

  “Well, it is going to get worse before it gets better, right?”

  He met her gaze. “Very good. I can see why you rate a window, Jessica Warwick, Assistant Manager.”

  It might have been a flash in his eyes, or the way he’d said her name, or even his slow, warm smile. Jessica felt it in the pit of her stomach, like an elevator dropping a floor. Or two. His dark gaze locked with hers, and she couldn’t look away.

  She noticed that he was no longer wearing the eye gear and mask. And the dust was gone from his face and hair. And the way he smiled at her made her smile, too.

  “Jessica, someone’s here to see you.” She heard Suzanne in the doorway, and she turned to see her friend standing there with Paul.

  “Paul . . . oh, I’m sorry. Have you been waiting long?” Jessica felt taken by surprise, as if Suzanne and Paul had interrupted something private.

  “The receptionist told me to come back. But I couldn’t find your office,” Paul explained. “Your friend was kind enough to help me out,” he added, glancing at Suzanne.

  “You guys have a good time,” Suzanne said as she strolled away—but not before casting an interested glance at Sam, Jessica noticed.

  Sam had been standing in a relaxed pose, surveying the scene, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. But he now crouched down to sort through some tools, the heavy muscles in his back and shoulders straining against his white T-shirt.

  “Is this your new office?” Paul peered inside, careful to stay away from the dust. “Very nice.”

  “Well, it looks like a demolition site today. But I’ll have it in order soon.”

  “Congratulations again on your promotion.” Paul smiled at her approvingly. “I brought you some flowers. They’re out in the reception area.”

  “Thank you. That was sweet of you, Paul.”

  “It was nothing, really,” he replied. “It’s good to see you again, Jessica. You look great. I think Cape Light agrees with you.”

  “Thanks . . . but I spent the weekend in the city.”

  Paul laughed. “Well, you look wonderful either way.” He leaned over and gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek. She was glad for some reason that Sam’s broad back was still turned.

  “I made a reservation for twelve-thirty,” Paul said, glancing at his watch. “We’d better get going.”

  “Yes, of course.” Jessica picked up her purse. As she turned to go, Sam caught her eye. Something in his bland expression made her feel he was smirking at her. She felt her cheeks redden and quickly looked away.

  That’s it, she decided as she and Paul walked out together. I’m going to put Sam Morgan totally out of my mind.

  “SO WHERE ARE WE GOING?” JESSICA ASKED, intrigued.

  “A little waterfront restaurant in the next town,” Paul answered. “They got a good write-up in the Globe. They’re supposed to have outstanding crab cakes, and I know you’ve got a weakness for crab cakes, so I thought you might like to try it.”

  “That sounds lovely,” Jessica said, pleased that he was so thoughtful.

  Paul’s silver Mercedes coupe was the kind of car people noticed, especially around Cape Light, where most people drove pickup trucks. Jessica felt a little conspicuous, but she also couldn’t help enjoying the ride. The Mercedes was so much smoother, so much more luxurious than her hatchback; it almost felt
like another form of transportation.

  “The last time you came down here, you were driving a Saab,” she said. “So this one is new?”

  “Yes, very. As you can see, I went for the works,” he said with a resigned but happy sigh. “I don’t know, I guess it was a bit self-indulgent,” he added, sounding almost apologetic, “but I do work very hard. And you know what they say, ‘Life is short . . . let’s have dessert first.’ ”

  Jessica laughed. “Not a bad philosophy, though my mother always warned me about spoiling my appetite.”

  “But you can do as you please now,” he reminded her.

  “Very true.” She smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Let’s skip the crab cakes and go straight to the crème brûlée.”

  “Maybe we will,” Paul said with a laugh. After a moment he added, “By the way, you look very good in this car. It really suits you,” he noted with another admiring smile.

  “Umm—thanks.”

  What did he mean by that? Jessica wondered. Did that mean she fit into his future? Or did he just have strong feelings about his car? Paul was charming and sometimes very flirtatious, she reminded herself. She shouldn’t read too much into these offhand remarks.

  They were soon seated at a table on an airy, awning-covered deck. “We’ll need to order and get our food fairly quickly,” Paul said to the waiter who brought them menus.

  “Sorry,” he said to Jessica. “I’ve got to get back to Boston for a late-afternoon meeting. It can’t be helped.”

  “That’s okay.” Jessica was a bit disappointed but tried not to show it.

  They ordered crab cakes to start, which they would share, and two salads with ginger-soy dressing and grilled mahi-mahi.

  “So what have you been up to?” Jessica asked.

  “Downsizing one company, finding funding for another,” Paul reported. “Actually, I’m really excited about a little start-up I took on six months ago. It’s a woman who developed a new super-comfortable seat for powerboats. We put together a group of investors for her and drew up a five-year business plan. She’s already exceeding her second-quarter goals. When I see someone take off that way . . . it’s my favorite part of the job.”

  Jessica smiled as the waitress brought their crab cakes. “Sounds like the way I feel when I’m able to give a loan to someone buying their first house.”

  We really do have a lot in common, she thought as Paul told her about a few of the other projects he was working on. We have a similar work ethic and a similar excitement about our careers. And, she thought, biting into the crab cake, we both enjoy excellent food.

  Still, for some inexplicable reason, Jessica found her thoughts wandering back to Sam. Staring at Paul across the table, she couldn’t help but compare the two men. Paul’s sandy hair, blue eyes, and tall, lanky build were almost the physical opposite of Sam’s dark coloring and broad shoulders. She tried to picture Paul wielding the machine Sam had used to slice through the wall this morning, and couldn’t imagine it.

  But Paul was in very good shape, she reminded herself, for his age, which she guessed to be about forty. He was athletic and liked to play golf and sail, an interest they had in common, though so far, they hadn’t gone sailing together.

  “So what’s up with you?” he asked.

  She told him about work and her weekend in Boston. What she didn’t tell him was how lonely and bored she was in Cape Light, how for the last six months she’d felt as if she was in a place where she would never fit in.

  Jessica and Paul didn’t talk much about personal matters. Paul seemed to prefer lighter topics, current movies or books. And, of course, talking about his business.

  Maybe it’s just that Paul is a very private person, Jessica thought as he told her about another client. She knew that it took some people time to open up.

  “Sounds like you’ve been working very hard,” Jessica said, starting on her fish.

  “Nonstop, honestly. But that comes with the territory when you’re the boss. Especially for the first few years,” Paul said with a sigh. “I may get a break this weekend, though,” he added in a happier tone. “A friend of mine invited me out for an overnight sail to Nantucket.”

  “That sounds great.” Jessica loved Nantucket, though she hadn’t been there in a while.

  “It should be,” Paul replied. “He’s just put his new boat in the water, a forty-foot sloop, custom-made. He hasn’t tried her on a long trip yet, and he’s asked a whole gang of people to come along.”

  A whole gang of people? Did that mean women people as well as men people? Maybe Paul had invited another woman to join him, instead of her, Jessica realized. After all, she was stuck out here in the country, and he surely dated other women he knew in Boston.

  Paul touched her wrist. “I wish you could come along, but my friend said he’s full up. He’s planning an overnight for July Fourth, though, and promised I could bring you then,” he added, looking at her hopefully.

  The look in his eyes dispelled her doubts. “Really? That sounds fun. I’ll make sure I get some extra time off.”

  He answered with a smile, looking pleased at her reaction.

  Well, at least he was thinking of the future and almost considered them a couple, Jessica consoled herself as she took a last bite of the fish. It was better not to ask too many questions. She didn’t want Paul to think she was getting too clingy.

  “I hope you get good weather,” Jessica said brightly as the waiter removed their empty dishes.

  “Yes, so do I. I get out on the water so rarely.”

  When Paul declined coffee and dessert—and discreetly looked at his watch—she declined as well, realizing he must be in a hurry.

  “Don’t rush on my account. Please,” he urged her, covering her hand with his own. “How about that crème brûlée you mentioned? I saw it on the menu. Let me order one for you. . . .”

  Jessica smiled and shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m fine,” she assured him.

  “Are you sure?” he asked again. When she declined once more, he asked for the check, and they were soon on their way back to the bank.

  “This is such a pretty place. So peaceful and picturesque,” Paul said as they drove down the Beach Road toward town. “You were lucky to grow up here.”

  “Yes, I guess that’s so,” she said slowly.

  Paul had no idea of what her family had been through, and Jessica didn’t feel comfortable enough with him yet to talk about her past.

  “Cape Light can be a little too peaceful,” she added. “Fortunately, my mother is improving with her new physical therapist. I’m hoping to be back in Boston soon. Definitely by the fall.”

  “I wouldn’t be in any hurry if I were you. You ought to just relax and enjoy it, Jessica. The city will still be there when you get back,” Paul gently assured her.

  Yes, but will you? she wanted to say.

  “It was nice of you to come back and take care of your mother,” Paul said. “I’m sure she appreciates it.”

  “You’ve never met my mother,” Jessica said with a wry grin. “She can be . . . difficult. My sister, Emily, appreciates the help, though,” she added.

  “Your sister is the mayor here, right?”

  Jessica nodded. “For a little more than two years now. She taught English at the high school for a long time and then was on the school board. There’s an election coming up in the fall, but she’s not sure if she’ll run again.”

  “She sounds like an interesting woman. I’d like to meet her someday.”

  Jessica glanced at him. “Yes, I hope you do.”

  She turned away and looked out at the passing scenery. It was pretty here, the Beach Road lush and overgrown with wild roses and tall swaying marsh grass.

  “I may take my bike out on this road this weekend,” she said suddenly. “I haven’t ridden here in years. It could be fun.”

  “I haven’t been cycling for ages, either,” Paul admitted. “Maybe next time I come, I could rent a bi
ke someplace and go out with you. Maybe have a picnic on the beach or something?”

  “That would be fun,” Jessica said. “We could ride to the lighthouse.”

  “Now, there’s a plan.” Paul glanced at her and smiled. “And I bet you look very cute in your biking outfit.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she replied with a shake of her head. But his compliment made her cheeks grow warm.

  They were soon back in the village. Paul pulled up to the bank to let her off. She picked up the bouquet he had brought her, long-stemmed pink roses, tied with a white satin ribbon.

  “Thanks for the flowers, Paul. And for lunch, of course,” she added. “It was great to see you again.”

  “A pleasure,” he agreed. He stared into her eyes, giving her the feeling he was truly sorry to go. “I’m glad I had the chance to stop and celebrate your big promotion.”

  Jessica laughed. “You make it sound as if I were made manager of the whole bank.”

  “I’m giving you a few more months for that. You definitely have the right stuff, Jessica Warwick,” he said softly.

  He leaned over the car’s shift and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. It was sweet and pleasant. But it was over before Jessica even had time to close her eyes.

  “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” He briefly touched her cheek with his hand.

  “Sure. Have a good trip back,” she said as she slipped out of the soft leather seat. Then she stood on the sidewalk and waved as Paul drove away.

  Jessica returned to her office, feeling drained. And she still had a long staff meeting to sit through before she could call it a day.

  She suddenly wished she could act more relaxed around Paul. More natural, not always on her guard to say and do just the right thing. She had to admit, she sometimes felt as if he were standing back, judging her, and she just wanted to turn and say, “Okay pal, the audition is over.”