Love's Second Chance

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Love's Second Chance Page 6

by Patty H Scott


  Patrice: You are too young to be jaded. Get that kiss. And reconsider the fast. That’s all I’m saying.

  Katrina: Thanks, friend.

  As I set my phone back in my bag, I look over at Jack. He’s smiling softly. “That was my friend, Patrice. She wanted to know if she needed to save me from you.”

  He looks puzzled and then grins a little. “Wow. I must have given a great impression.”

  “No. Yes. I mean, you definitely did. She was going to bail me out if you turned out to be an axe murderer or something.” Agh.

  He fully laughs. “Well, good thing I passed the axe murderer test, right?”

  “You definitely passed that.” His smile grows. I lean my head back and look out the window at the city passing by.

  On the drive home I must have fallen asleep. I wake when the car stops. Jack looks over and says, “You’re home.”

  He jumps out and opens my door. I don’t always appreciate men opening my door. Some of them do it in a way that makes me feel like they think I’m incompetent. After all, I grew up in Texas where men are raised to have manners. It’s just that not all of them have the heart behind the actions.

  Jack is different. When he opens a door, I can tell he’s trying to cherish me. I step out past him and we walk together to my door. We aren’t standing there for more than a few seconds when Jack steps forward and kisses me again. I wrap my arms around his neck and swirl my fingers through the short waves at the back of his neck. His kiss is warm and comfortable but tinged with longing.

  All of a sudden, my thoughts start firing off. What are you doing, Kat? You are supposed to be putting some distance between you and men. What about the fast? What about the mantra? Talk about a buzzkill. I try to shut down the warring voices in my head and just enjoy being kissed by Jack. I pull away gently and press another soft kiss on his lips.

  I don’t want to reject him. I also don’t want to send him the wrong message when I’m so confused inside. This day has been amazing. Still, I’m off to Europe. I got to know Jack a lot better today, but I don’t really know him, and my track record says that days like today are bound to be followed by some serious letdown. You know what they say: The taller they are the harder they fall. Well, I’m pretty high on Jack Anders right now, so that fall is going to be brutal.

  I step back slowly and take one last look in those beautiful hazel eyes of Jack’s. “I’d better go in. I leave tomorrow and I want to get some sleep before my trip. Thanks for everything, Jack. This day was one I won’t soon forget.”

  “Me either. I’m so glad you said yes. Have a safe trip.”

  “You too. I mean, you take care. By the way, you can call me Kat. All my friends do.”

  “Well then I’m calling you Katrina. Because I’m pretty sure friends don’t kiss on their porches at the end of a day at the beach. So, goodnight, Katrina.”

  “ ‘Night.” I turn and go into my house. I step over to the front window to watch Jack walk down the walkway and get into his car. Whew. He might want more than friendship. That puts a twist on things. He’s no ordinary man, for sure. What I’m going to do about it is still very much up in the air.

  chapter eight

  Jack

  My day with Katrina can’t really be summed up in words. I meet Brett at the gym before work and he asks me about her. “So, Katrina, huh? She seems like a good match for you, Jack. Did you plan anything with her after the wedding?”

  “Actually, I took her to Santa Monica yesterday.” I can’t help but smile.

  Brett looks over with an approving glance. “Okay. Now we’re talking. Jack and a woman. Back in the action.”

  “Yeah. She’s special for sure.”

  “Oh. You’ve got it bad already. I know that look. So, deets man. Spill. What did you two do?”

  “We went to the stairs in Santa Monica, ran up and down, you know. Laughed a lot. Rented bikes. Ran in the ocean. We had some really nice talks.” I picture each part of our day as I recount the events to Brett.

  “Talks. Bro? Your game has slipped.”

  “My game hasn’t slipped. It’s called respect.”

  “Touché”

  “Anyway, I did kiss her on top of the Ferris wheel.” That kiss.

  Brett grins. “That’s more like it. And …”

  “And that’s all you’re getting from me.”

  Brett snaps his workout towel at me and says, “Oh, that’s all I’m getting, huh? So, Jack Anders doesn’t kiss and tell? Well, good for you, man. I’m happy for you. When are you seeing her again?”

  “That’s the problem. I forgot to get her number. Can you believe it? I have her full name and her address. But no number. I just forgot to get it and then after I drove away there was no way to go back and get it from her without looking like the dork I am, so I’m stuck for now. Anyway, she’s off to Europe for a shoot for a month. I wouldn’t see her until after that anyway.”

  “Well, don’t let her get away. You can try that reverse number lookup thing, but with the address.”

  I shake my head. “Nah. I’m not going to do that. I’ll try to stop by her house again and leave a note or something after I know she’s back. I’m not letting her slip. Don’t worry.”

  “Well, it’s about time. I had dubbed you king of the eternal bachelor society. I guess they’ll need a new ruler now.” We laugh at that. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’ll trade in my bachelor status for Katrina. If I am dating, she’s the one for sure.

  * * *

  My last week at work was a direct-order delivery from Hades! It’s as though all the forces that be were trying to confirm that I needed to quit this grind of a job and take the leap to start my own business.

  In the end, Joel blamed me on a conference call in front of corporate and our client for something I had nothing to do with at all. That was the straw that broke this camel’s back. If I hadn’t already given my two weeks’ notice, I would have that day.

  After I leave work, I check my messages while I’m driving home. This morning, the realty office in Bozeman left the answer I’ve been waiting for.

  Hello. This is Jenny from Big Sky Properties. Mr. Anders, I’m calling to tell you the lease for the property on Main Street went through today. Please call me back if you have any questions. I emailed the documents to you this afternoon. Congratulations.

  I let out a whoop in my car. I have to call Caleb. “Hey, Caleb! Guess what, bro!”

  “Hey, Jack. What’s up?”

  “The lease went through. I’ve got the space on Main! It’s official, man. I’m coming back to Montana and I’m doing this thing!”

  “I’m so proud of you, big brother, and I know you are going to do great. I can’t wait for you to be closer.”

  “I know. I’m so overwhelmed. I can’t believe this is real. I have a rental I’m looking at too. A little two bedroom for the time being until the shop takes off.” My mind is going a mile a minute.

  Caleb asks, “What are you going to name it?”

  “That’s a surprise. I’ll tell you when I’m there.”

  “Well, as soon as I can get over there, you know I will. Thanks for calling.”

  “Thanks for encouraging me. I’ll see you when you can get time to visit. Stay safe. Love you.”

  “I will. Love you, bro.”

  We hang up and I picture Katrina’s animated expression when she exploded with encouragement over my idea to open a shop. That girl. She could be the stuff of dreams. But, she’s off on another trip, and she has no intention of settling down. Her love is her photography.

  That day on the beach was amazing. In fact, it probably ruined me for other women forever. If that’s the case, it was worth it. I’d rather be wrecked by a woman like Katrina than settle for someone nice who doesn’t set off sparks in my heart and body every time I think of her. She’s like a breeze coming off the ocean, fresh, salty, surprising, calming. But, like the breeze, she blows away as quickly as she came. I wonder if she’s back from Europe yet. />
  * * *

  I finished cleaning everything out of my apartment this morning and just sent the moving company off to drive up to Montana with everything I own in the world. It’s an oddly liberating feeling. I finally feel like my life has purpose. I’m getting off the hamster wheel and I couldn’t feel more alive.

  Well, except at the top of the Ferris wheel in Santa Monica. But that’s a sweet memory. This coffee shop, that’s my reality.

  I call Brett before I head out. “Hey, man. I just wanted to check in. I’m about to head out.”

  “Man, I’m so happy for you. You’ll be sorely missed. You know that.”

  I take one last look through the bedrooms for anything I might have missed. “I know. I’ll miss you too. Once I’m open, you’ll have to take some time off and come up to see everything.”

  “For sure. So, are you leaving right now?”

  I stand looking around one last time. “Yeah. I’m about to take off. But before I leave town, I think I’m going to stop and say goodbye to Katrina. I want to thank her for inspiring me to take this risk.”

  Brett encourages me. “Jack, you need to do something to keep the door open between the two of you.”

  “No. I don’t think so. I’m moving now. We don’t have something solid enough to ask her to commit long distance. I guess you never can tell. I think it was meant to be a relationship to make me see what I’m missing. She breathed life back into me, you know? Nothing seems to hold that girl back when she wants something. But we’d never make it now. I just want to thank her.” A thin smile crosses my face as I think of her, and then realize I’ll never see her after today.

  “Well, I hope you at least get her number. Can’t hurt.”

  “Okay, man. I will. Take care, Brett. I’ll call when I’m settled.”

  I pick up the last few items off the counter in my kitchen and look around the apartment. I really have had enough packing to last me a lifetime between emptying Mom’s home and clearing out this apartment. But this is different. I’m not doing this because I have to say goodbye. No. Today I’m starting my new life. I close the door and hit the road for Pasadena. One last stop before I leave L.A. in my rearview mirror.

  * * *

  I walk up the steps to the porch on Katrina’s Craftsman house and knock on her door. As I’m standing there waiting a guy steps out of the other half of the rental. “You looking for Kat?”

  “Kat? Uh. Yeah. Katrina. I’m a friend and I was just wanting to pop in to share some good news with her.”

  He looks me over a little skeptically. “Well, I think she’s in Europe or Asia or something. I don’t think she’ll be back until Thursday.”

  “Okay, Well, can you just tell her Jack came by. Do you have a second? I’d like to leave her a number where she can reach me.”

  “No problem.”

  I grab a pen from my glove box and a receipt I had in the console. I write,

  Katrina – I really hope we can talk again.

  Call me when you are back in L.A. – Jack

  Then I scribble my cell number underneath and hand it to the guy next door. He says he’ll give it to her when he sees her. I didn’t want to write the news of my move and the new shop on the receipt. That’s the kind of thing I want to share in person. I can’t wait to tell her. I just want to do it when we’re talking, not scrawled on a scrap of paper.

  I get back in my car and drive down Katrina’s street toward the freeway, questioning whether I should have left the note. We were just getting to know one another. If she wanted me to call her again, she would have asked for my number or given hers.

  Those kisses and the connection I felt left me wondering if there could be more. But it’s my moment to pull up stakes. Kat is amazing. She’s just not mine. I need to leave her in L.A. with everything else. Time to start the first day of the rest of my life.

  * * *

  Setting up shop has been fully consuming. I’m standing in the middle of the room right now admiring how far it has come. I love the ambiance in here. The historic brick walls rise to spacious, high ceilings covered in embossed tin tiles. Full glass windows cover the wall along Main Street.

  Just past the central room toward the rear of the building a second room backs up to our storage closets. It’s a great space for smaller gatherings. I’ve set up tables throughout the place and some more comfortable chairs and love seats around the edge of the space with coffee and side tables at each gathering spot.

  I posted a “Help Wanted” sign in the front window. My location gives me an advantage. Everyone passing by will know I’m hiring. About an hour after the sign is up, a young man knocks on the glass door out front. “Hi. My name is Bryce. I saw your sign?”

  “Oh. Hi, Bryce, I’m Jack, the owner of the shop. Come on in.”

  We stand at the counter. Bryce asks, “So, are you looking for full-time or part-time help?”

  “A little of both, actually. What are you looking for?”

  “Well I attend Montana State and can work most hours I’m not in class or studying. I worked at Starbucks my junior and senior years of high school, so I know my way around most of the equipment and I have been thoroughly trained in customer service.” His answers are confident, and he has good experience.

  “You’re just the kind of person I’m looking to hire, Bryce. Can I give you an application to fill out while I unload some deliveries in the back?”

  “Sure. That sounds good. I have a friend Amelia, too. She’s in a few of my classes. She worked a coffee cart over the summer before we started school. I’ll send her in later if that’s okay.”

  “More than okay. You two sound like just what I’m looking for.”

  I ended up hiring Bryce on the spot. I lucked out finding someone who didn’t need a crash course in how to properly pour foam or clean a burr grinder. Amelia came in as promised and I gave her part-time work. She plans to cover one weekend day each week for me.

  Toward the end of the day, I start installing a low stage I built for the corner of the main room. With every step of my setup, I feel this place coming together. This whole venture gives me this sense of being alive like nothing has in a long time.

  I only wish Katrina could see it. It’s surprising how often she crosses my mind. In another life we would have made an amazing couple. She’ll always have a mark on this place. She spurred me to be bold and risk everything. I named the shop Ferris Wheel Coffee after the best kiss of my life with a woman I’ll never forget.

  As I’m finishing mounting the last support to the back of the stage, I see someone at the front door. It’s my old friend Brannon Hammer from high school. “Hey, Brannon! What are you doing here? It’s been forever since I’ve seen you!”

  “Hey, Jack! The question is, what are you doing here? I haven’t heard much of you since you took off for Washington.”

  “Yeah, well, after grad school I did time at a desk job in L.A., and then got inspired to come back home. I’ve had an itch to start something like this for a while. I just didn’t have the courage until now.”

  “Well, it looks great. What’s the plan? When do you open?”

  “I’m planning the grand-opening for the Monday after Fourth of July weekend. That way I’ll be in full swing by the time we have the Sweet Pea Festival in early August.”

  “That’s awesome. You know you’ll stay busy with this location. What’s the stage for?”

  “I’ll be letting local bands come play. Probably having a weekly karaoke night. I’m thinking of being open Friday, Saturday, and Monday evenings to start.”

  “I love it. So where are you staying now? I heard your mom’s place sold. Sorry to hear about her passing, too, Jack. She was a rare woman.”

  “She was. One of a kind. Yeah. The place sold pretty quickly. I’m staying in a little two-bedroom house on 16th by the campus. It’s just what I needed for a fresh start.”

  Brannon looks toward the front door and says, “Well, I’d love to catch up when you ha
ve time. I need to run. I’m meeting Susan at the furniture place to look at sofa sets.”

  “Susan, huh? So, you married Susan?”

  “Yes. She gave in and made me the happiest man in Montana.”

  “That’s awesome. I’m happy for both of you. Let me grab my phone so I can get your number. We’ll have to get together soon.” We exchange numbers. As he leaves, I feel a little pang of regret. I imagine Katrina might have made me the happiest man in Montana. Actually, I’m pretty sure of it.

  For a moment I kick myself for not doing more to get a chance to have something special with her. Well, that ship has sailed. I am a confirmed bachelor, proud owner of a soon-to-open coffee shop, and the man who finally pursued his dreams. No need to waste time pining for a woman who stepped out of my life as quickly as she flew in.

  chapter nine

  Katrina

  I feel like I’m just coming out of the fog of jet lag from our trip to England. Michael made that entire experience seamless. I just turned in my edits from the Europe shots yesterday, so I’m taking today at half-speed in my favorite old pajama bottoms and cozy t-shirt. I hear a knock on the front door. I look out the peephole.

  I swing the door open. “Patrice! Come in here so I can hug you! You are a sight for sore eyes, girlfriend.” She steps in and we throw our arms around one another and rock while we’re hugging. I missed her big time. “So, how was England?”

  “Amazing, and I’m still exhausted even though we got back last week.”

  I sit on my couch and pat a cushion next to me. “Patrice, fill me in! How have you been? How’s work? What have you been doing while I was away?”

  Patrice sits next to me and crosses her legs up on my sofa. “Work is good. Lots of big projects, and you know I love what I do. I’ve been good. Jasmine and I started trying to go to the gym together. That’s helping me be consistent. Otherwise, just the usual. So … have you heard from Jack since you’ve been back?”

  “No. I realized something – and don’t kick me because I’ve been kicking myself. We never exchanged numbers. We spent that whole amazing day together and I never gave him my number or got his. Dork award goes to me.” I roll my eyes.

 

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