As he passed, he nodded to Carlyle, who deepened his scowl.
No regrets and only new mistakes: that was the code he lived by now.
Despite encountering the occasional old-timer with a good long-term memory, he knew most people had forgiven the past and accepted who he was today. After his grandmother’s house had burned down, he’d been in a hurry to get the hell out of Savannah—He figured his grandma and Aidan would be better off without him. He’d moved to Orlando and worked two, sometimes three jobs at a time doing construction and whatever work he could find to support himself and send money to his grandmother. It was the least he could do after the trouble he’d caused.
A flash of long blond hair caught his eye.
He saw Elle before she saw him. She was seated at a table for two next to the window facing him, but gazing out at the water. A bowl of soup was in front of her, a spoon poised in her hand. She wore a skirt and blouse, a sweater and heels. Her legs were crossed at the ankles and angled to the side so that his gaze trailed down and lit on strong, long, tanned legs and worked its way up to full breasts showcased nicely by the sweater.
He forced his gaze to her face before she caught him looking. But hell, he’d have to be a dead man to not appreciate what he saw.
As the hostess led him to her table, her gaze found his.
She looked a little startled but managed to return a polite, if somewhat stiff, smile as she set down her spoon.
“Here you go, this is your table,” the hostess said.
“What are you doing here, Daniel?”
“I was supposed to meet Wiladean here to discuss the renovation.”
“Really? Gigi is meeting me here, too. She’s finishing up with a hair appointment. But she’ll be here any minute...um...okay...huh... She didn’t mention you were coming to lunch, too.”
“Hey there, honey.” The server, Billie Jean, smiled at him and set a bowl of soup in front of him. “What can I get ya to drink?”
“I didn’t order soup. We’re waiting for someone. I’ll just have some tea for now.”
“Well, if you’re waiting for Wiladean, she called again and she can’t make it. Looks like it will just be you two.”
Elle’s mouth fell open and her expression suggested she smelled something fishy, and it wasn’t the fresh catch of the day.
“She said she’s real sorry, but y’all should go ahead and have lunch without her. It’s her treat.” Billie Jean sighed. “Y’all make a real cute couple.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed, and Daniel couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a woman blush like that.
“A couple? Us?” Elle laughed. “No. No way. We are not a couple.”
Daniel wondered if she realized this was the second time in as many days that someone had mentioned how good they looked together. He could see it.
“I’m not dating anyone right now,” Elle said. “You see, I was engaged a few years ago. But I got stood up at the altar.”
Billie Jean’s lips formed an O shape and she placed a hand on Elle’s arm. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I can see how that would put you off dating.”
Elle slanted a glance at Daniel before looking back at Billie Jean. “Yes, it was pretty horrific. You see, my ex-fiancé’s best man talked him out of getting married. Can you believe that?”
Billie Jean’s mouth fell open and her eyes flashed, greedy for the gossip. “Get out. Are you kidding me? The best man? What kind of a lousy jerk would do a thing like that?”
“I know. Right?” Elle’s gaze bore into Daniel. “But wait, it gets better. Right before I was supposed to walk down the aisle, my sister heard my ex-fiancé and his so-called friend talking. She heard the best man tell him to get out while he could. My sister wasn’t sure if she should tell me. But when the ceremony started and she saw my fiancé standing at the altar, naturally, she assumed everything was fine. That my fiancé was better than that. But no. Right after the minister asked him if he took me to be his wife, he couldn’t answer. His best man leaned in and nudged him. I thought he was trying to help, but then, he tells Roger—that’s my ex’s name—‘Don’t do this. Leave. Now.’ And Roger ran out of the church like he was being chased. He left me standing there. Humiliated in front of more than two hundred fifty people. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive either one of them.”
“Honey, I don’t blame you one bit,” Billie Jean said. “Both of ’em deserve to rot in hell. I’m so sorry that happened to you. Maybe y’all would like a glass of wine rather than tea? It’s on the house if ya do. You deserve it after all you went through.”
“That’s sweet of you,” Elle said. “But tea is fine.”
Billie Jean looked at Daniel. “If she’s having lunch with you after going through all that, you must be a pretty good guy. There aren’t enough good guys in the world. And honey—” she leaned in to Elle “—this one is cu-u-te. Maybe you should rethink sending him to the friend zone. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
Okay. So, Elle was making a point. He got it. Loud and clear. She was still angry. Obviously, Elle didn’t know the whole story or she wouldn’t be this mad at him. Hurt? Sure, he could understand that, but grudge-holding-furious for years? No, she didn’t know the half of what had happened that day.
“Do you feel better now?” Daniel asked.
“I don’t know who I’m more angry with,” said Elle. “You or Gigi. I’ve already told her to stop trying to push us together.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Is that what she’s trying to do?”
Elle looked down at her hands for a few beats before raising her chin and looking at him like he was an idiot. But she hadn’t gotten up and walked out.
“Why else would she set up a lunch with us and not show?”
Daniel couldn’t help it, he laughed.
“Your grandmother has a lot of great qualities, but subtlety isn’t a strength.”
“It never has been,” Elle said.
His gut was telling him to tread carefully. As tempting as she might be, this was not a date. Even though Wiladean was the instigator, Elle was her granddaughter, and if things went south with Elle, it might upset Wiladean and he might lose the job. Sure, he had enough work, but Wiladean was an opinion maker. Just as she’d helped give his business some clout over the years, she was connected enough to take back all that goodwill.
“Look, we’re here,” he said. “We might as well talk about the renovation. As your grandmother said, you’re the voice of reason in this project. It’s probably a good time for you to tell me everything I need to know.”
Before Elle could answer, Billie Jean approached with their tea.
“Wiladean wants the two of you to enjoy lunch without her. She said to tell you it’s her treat. And that y’all should get anything you want, including dessert.”
Billie Jean’s eyes flashed bright as if she’d received the news that she’d won the lottery. In a way, she had. No doubt, Wiladean had tipped Billie Jean well to enlist her help in pulling off this crazy scheme.
“Take your time. Talk and get acquainted. I’ll come back to get your order.”
As soon as Billie Jean walked away, Elle said, “I’m sorry she’s put us on the spot like this. You don’t have to stay.”
“And miss out on this soup? Are you kidding? I mean, if you want to leave, please.” He gestured toward the door, silently willing her to stay.
“No, I’m staying. Because soup and lunch is on Gigi. We need to take full advantage of that to teach her a lesson. In fact, maybe we should order a couple of seafood towers.”
“I’m paying for lunch,” Daniel said.
When Elle started to protest, he held up his hand. “That’s nonnegotiable.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said.
“Why not?”
“Because Gigi stood us up�
�because she was conniving and trying to set us up. And I’ll feel bad.”
“Why should you feel bad? You weren’t the one who planned the bait and switch. Or were you in on it?”
He loved the way her eyes flashed.
“Absolutely not.” She scooted her chair back and stood up in one swift motion. “Look, this is awkward. I apologize on my grandmother’s behalf. I’m going to go.”
“Elle, don’t leave.”
She frowned at him and shook her head as she hitched her purse up on her shoulder.
“You always did run when things got tough,” Daniel said.
“No, I don’t. You’re the one who left town.”
She stopped, crossed her arms and caught her bottom lip between her front teeth.
“So did you,” Daniel said. “Look, don’t go. Please.”
Elizabeth hesitated a moment. Then she sat down at the table again.
“Thank you,” he said.
Her eyes flashed again. “For what?”
“For staying.”
Her brows were knitted and he could see the pain in her eyes. She sighed loudly, and for a moment he was afraid she was going to stand up again.
“Can we talk about this?”
“About what, Daniel?”
“About you and me—”
“There is no you and me.”
“I know there’s no you and me. What I was trying to ask was can we talk about what happened between you and me—at the church that day. I know you think you have a reason to dislike me. If you need someone to blame, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk and you want to spend the rest of your life blaming me. I’ll never bring it up again. But if you want to know the rest of the story—because you only know one side—we can talk about it.”
She stared at him for a moment, as if letting his words sink in. As if maybe the words were even sinking in and settling in against her will.
“Daniel, I don’t want to do this here.”
“Okay.” He signaled to the server. “Let’s pay the check and get out of here. Let’s go somewhere else and talk.”
“No, I don’t want to talk about it.” The words were there, but the edge was blunted.
Billie Jean stepped up to their table. “Are y’all ready to order?”
“No, just the check, please, Billie Jean,” Daniel said.
“Separate checks,” Elizabeth said.
“But y’all haven’t even had your lunch yet. You only had the soup—and you didn’t finish it. Is everything okay?”
“The soup was delicious,” he said. “We have to go. An unexpected meeting came up.”
Billie Jean raised a brow. “An unexpected meeting, huh?” She looked at Elle and then back at Daniel. “Is that what you kids are calling it these days? Well, you’re in luck the bill has been paid. Your grandma took care of it. You’re free to go.”
As Billie Jean walked away, Daniel’s phone rang. Normally he wouldn’t have answered it, but the words Savannah-Chatham Metropolitan Police appeared on the caller ID. “This is weird. It says it’s the police. I’m sorry, but I’d better take it.”
Elle nodded and they both started walking toward the exit.
“This is Daniel Quindlin,” he said as they walked.
“Daniel Quindlin, this is Sergeant Eric Briggs of the Savannah-Chatham Metropolitan Police Department. Are you related to an Aidan Quindlin?”
As his blood ran cold in anticipation of what the sergeant was about to say, Daniel put his free hand over his ear to block out the background noise of convivial chatter, clattering silverware and crying babies.
“Aidan is my brother.” Daniel’s mouth went dry and his voice seemed disassociated with his body. “Is everything okay?”
“What’s wrong?” Elle whispered. All animosity that had previously darkened her voice was replaced by genuine concern. He realized he was no longer walking and had frozen in place.
“Sir, are you in the Savannah area?”
“I am. Why?” This time his words were a little more forceful. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Can you please come to Memorial University Hospital as soon as possible?”
“Yeah. Sure. Is Aidan okay? Is he hurt?”
“Sir, please come to the hospital and they can give you more information.”
The sergeant ended the call.
Daniel stood there for a moment, trying to get his bearings.
“Daniel, is everything okay? What’s wrong?”
Elle’s hand was on his arm. The brows above her blue eyes were furrowed in concern.
She was a touchstone that snapped him back to reality.
“I don’t know. That was the Savannah Police. They asked me about Aidan. My brother. They told me to come to Memorial University Hospital.”
Elle’s hand fluttered to her mouth. “Oh, my God. I hope he’s okay.”
Daniel shook his head a little harder than necessary, trying to shake away the fog.
“I do, too, but I don’t know. They wouldn’t tell me.”
“Come on,” Elle said. “I’m going to drive you.”
Chapter Five
Elle remembered Aidan Quindlin, even though she didn’t know him very well. When he and his grandmother had moved into the inn after the fire, he mostly kept to himself. He was a couple of years younger than Daniel. He’d run in a different circle at Savannah Country Day. Aidan had dated her sister Kate. Elle seemed to remember some kind of drama surrounding their prom. Even so, that didn’t matter now. She was here to help Daniel. He seemed shocked and scared and human as he’d gotten official word that his brother had been in a motorcycle accident.
A day drinker ran a red light.
The helmet saved his life.
Still...head trauma. Possible spinal cord injuries.
Suddenly all her past differences with Daniel melted away, or at least faded into the background. Any decent person would help in Aidan’s time of need. Their grandmother and parents were gone. The fact that Daniel had gotten the call and he was Aidan’s only next of kin in the hospital waiting room answered the question Elle couldn’t ask—about whether Aidan was married or had someone special in his life. It appeared that the Quindlin brothers only had each other.
The waiting room was decorated for the holidays. Someone had decorated the windows with canned spray snow and stencils. A small artificial tree sat atop one of the end tables and an instrumental version of “The Christmas Song” played softly through the overhead speakers. She watched Daniel, who was sitting forward on the gray-green vinyl waiting room chair with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped and head down.
They’d been sitting in silence for about an hour.
“Do you want something to drink?” she asked him. “I’ll go get us something.”
Daniel lifted his head and blinked at her as if he’d just remembered she was there.
“No. Thanks.” He rubbed his hands over his face, raking them back through his curly dark brown hair before returning his elbows to their resting spot on his knees. “Uh...you don’t need to stay. I don’t want to hold you up.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to leave you alone at the hospital. Besides, I drove you here. How would you get home?”
He studied his clasped hands. Then looked back at her. Pain was etched into his handsome face, though she could tell he was trying to act like he was handling everything. “I can Uber it. Don’t worry about me. Just go.”
Elle stood. “No, I’m not going to just go. Sorry, but I won’t. But I will go get us some coffee. How do you take yours?”
He watched her for a few beats. His expression was unreadable. She could’ve talked herself into believing that he looked relieved. Finally, he said, “Black.”
She nodded. “I’ll be right back.” As she turned to go on her
errand, she thought about rattling off her cell number and telling him to call her if he got any news, but then she thought better of it. Besides, she was only going to the hospital cafeteria. She wouldn’t be gone long.
Still, life could change on a dime. One minute you were in a tourist trap restaurant obsessing over past differences, and the next, someone you loved was clinging to life.
And she hadn’t cleared the waiting room when she heard him utter an expletive. When she turned, he was on his feet, looking at his watch.
“What’s wrong?” Elle asked, returning to his side.
“Chloe,” he murmured. “My brother’s daughter. She’s in school. Aidan usually picks her up around this time. I have to call the school.”
Aidan had a daughter? Where was the little girl’s mother? Obviously, this wasn’t the time to ask, because she wasn’t here at the hospital and Daniel wasn’t counting on her to pick up the child.
He fumbled with his cell phone and got frustrated with the slow internet.
“Daniel, let me help,” she said. “Please.”
“I have to call the school and tell them about Aidan’s accident. But I don’t know the number and I can’t—”
“Where does she go to school and what’s her name?”
“She goes to Country Day. I’ll have to talk to them.”
“I’ll look up the number for you,” Elle said. “Sit down.” Her voice was gentle but firm. He did what she said, lowering himself onto the vinyl seat again.
“Do you remember Josey Jensen?” she asked. “We went to school with her.”
Daniel gave a dazed, noncommittal shrug.
“She’s the dean of students at Country Day now,” said Elle. “Do you want me to talk to her and explain what happened?”
“No,” Daniel said. “Let me call the school.”
Elle nodded. After she pulled up the number, she read it to him. He punched it into his phone and then walked away, toward the hall that led to the exit.
A Down-Home Savannah Christmas (The Savannah Sisters Book 1) Page 7
