Here I go. The first of many lies. The bio card had said a bad breakup. It was as plausible as anything else. More so than the truth. “I had a nasty breakup. You know how it is when all your friends are his friends and you just need a change of, well, everything?”
Zane’s blue eyes glittered under the soft lights. “Yes, ma’am. I know exactly.”
Amazed at how easily the lies flowed from her mouth, she continued. “City life had worn me down over the years, so I targeted small towns. I’ve always wanted to live by the ocean, so here I am. I’m worried about work, though, so I don’t know how long I’ll be here.”
Zane cocked his head to the side. “What kind of work do you do?”
“I’m a nurse practitioner, but I’m not yet licensed in California. I’ll need something in the meantime.”
He nodded. “There’s quite a few older folks that live here. They often need home care. We had one for my dad.”
“Sure.” It was a good idea. At least until she could find a job in a hospital. She might even like it. A slower pace from the trauma unit she’d worked in for eight years might be a great change.
“We have an employment agency in town that might have some leads for you. Nora Richardson’s her name. She’s not really an agency, but a person. Everyone here calls her if they need a position filled. She could recite the resumes of everyone in town.” He grabbed the pen from behind his ear and wrote a name and number on a napkin. “Call Nora. She’ll hook you up if she has anything.”
“Thank you. I’ll call her first thing.” She smiled as a feeling of optimism pushed the dogged fear to the side. For the moment. “What about the doctor’s office next to the dance studio? Do you know if they’re looking for nurses?”
“I don’t think so. Doctor Waller’s son, who happens to be my best friend from high school, just moved back to town to take over the practice. But they have a nurse already.”
“Just one?”
“Just one. That’s all they need, I guess.” He lowered his voice. “However, she’s precedes the elder Doctor Waller, so she may retire at some point. The residents still call Doctor Waller the new doctor, even though he’s been practicing here for thirty years.”
“What will they call the son then?” Kara asked.
“The newest doctor?”
“That’s a little weird. You know that, right?” Kara laughed.
“Yes, ma’am. Welcome to Cliffside Bay.”
Chapter Eight
Brody
Brody pulled into the parking lot of the state beach and sang out loud to the song on the radio. It was good to be alive. Good to be headed out for a night with the Dogs. Screw his diet and sleep regimen. Tonight he was an ordinary guy instead of a highly paid athlete. He would eat tacos and drink beer and maybe get a little stupid. He would choose to believe Flora would make a full recovery and that his mother’s depression would soon lift, even if he had to talk himself into it. Everything will be fine. Let all your worries go for tonight.
He texted Jackson.
I’m here. You on your way?
A few minutes later, a return text came back.
Yes. Just dropped my stuff off at Honor’s. I’ll meet you in the parking lot. IPAs in hand.
Brody grabbed his leather jacket from the passenger seat and headed toward the grassy park above the strand of beach. He settled onto the wooden bench perched at the edge of the cliff. He and Jackson often met here to talk and drink a beer.
The sun had set and the temperature hovered in the low fifties, but the fog made it seem colder. Wind bit his cheeks and hands. Waves crashed to the shore in a steady tug and pull. Nothing was better than this view. He inhaled the pungent scent of saltwater and seaweed. The air made him feel alive. He belonged here in Cliffside Bay. He’d known it the first time Jackson had brought him to this spot.
A car pulled into the lot behind him. Moments later, Jackson plopped next to him and handed him a beer. With eyes the color between a sunny sky and stormy sea, and a body like a construction worker, no one would guess that Jackson Waller had graduated at the top of his medical school class. From the moment they met in the USC dorms, Brody had admired him for his work ethic and his integrity. Whether you were the bug or the windshield in that moment, there was no one better to be with. Jackson healed ailments, both physical and mental. He’d always impressed the heck out Brody. Not only was he brilliant, but also kind. Albeit a little fussy at times, like a mother hen. As Flora had once said, Jackson was the only one of them with any sense.
“Welcome home.” They clinked beer bottles.
“Same to you,” Brody said. “You’re really here for good?”
Jackson nodded. “I brought the last load of stuff from L.A. today.” He took a long sip from his beer.
“What about Sharon?” Brody asked. “You convinced her to move here yet?”
“Not yet.” He paused as he took another swig of his beer. “But I bought a ring.”
Brody turned to look at him. “A ring? Like an engagement ring?” In the darkness, it was hard to make out Jackson’s expression.
“I’m going to ask her. Soon.”
“That’s a big step.” A giant step. Maybe in the wrong direction.
“I’m ready. I think she’s ready. Now that I’m done with medical school and back here, I want to start a family.”
“What about her job in L.A.?” Brody asked.
“We’ll work it out. I hope.” He drank from his bottle, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ve been thinking about Maggie.”
Maggie? Jackson hadn’t mentioned his high school sweetheart for a long time. “Yeah?” Lame, but he couldn’t think of what else to say. Maggie had been dead for twelve years. They’d broken up right before they’d left for colleges on opposite coasts. Jackson had wanted her to attend USC with him, but she’d wanted to pursue musical theatre studies in New York City. Sadly, Maggie had died in a car crash on her way to her school in New York. Jackson had never gotten to say he was sorry.
“Maybe it’s being back here. Maybe it’s taking this big step with Sharon. Hell, I don’t know. I fell in love with Maggie when I was six years old.” Jackson took his cell phone from his pocket. With the flashlight app, he illuminated a carved set of initials on the back of the bench: J.W. + M.K. “We carved that together.”
Brody popped the top off another beer and handed it to his friend.
“She was a song and dance girl, so it had to be New York,” Jackson said.
Brody listened without interruption, even though he knew the story well. You weren’t friends for as long as they’d been without knowing every ghost.
“I’m ashamed to say there was a part of me that thought her dream wasn’t as important as mine. Another part of me thought she wouldn’t make it, so why risk our relationship? I know, that makes me sound like an ass, and I was. But I knew if she left, she’d never come back.” He took a long swig from his beer. “The last time I ever saw her, she was right here on this bench, crying her eyes out. She said to me: ‘I never thought you could be this selfish.’ ”
Selfish was not the Jackson that Brody knew. Often love made a person feel insane. Sometimes it brought out the best in a person. Often it brought out the worst. He only had to look in the mirror to know that was true. The lying, conniving Samantha had destroyed his heart and an entire football season.
“That sucks, man.” Good job. Jesus, why was he so bad in situations like this?
Jackson let out a long sigh. “Sharon thinks I’ve never gotten over Maggie and it’s affecting our relationship. She wants a higher level of intimacy.”
Women wanted to connect on an emotional level—according to Flora, anyway. It wasn’t that easy. How did women make it seem so effortless? They felt this, or that, or the other thing, and just shared it like it was as natural as taking a sip of water. He was exhausted just thinking about it.
“Sharon thinks I have issues about a lot of stuff,” Jackson said. “I’m a work in p
rogress.”
Brody bristled. Was that the reason for the ring? To prove his love for her? Was Jackson making a mistake? Jackson didn’t need changing. “Maybe she has as a few issues too.”
Jackson laughed. “She doesn’t think so.”
The hairs on the back of Brody’s neck stood straight up. Jackson marrying Sharon might be a mistake. Once he married her, there would be no going back.
“Listen, man, just think this all through before you propose, okay?” Brody said.
“Yeah, of course. I always think everything through.”
Both their phones buzzed with an incoming text. It was a group text from Kyle.
I couldn’t get out of S.F fast enough. Angry woman wants my head on a platter. Headed your way. I’ll be there by 7.
Brody wrote back.
We’ve already started without you.
He scooted closer to Jackson. They raised their beers as he snapped a selfie and sent it to Kyle.
Jackson jumped into the conversation.
Are you texting and driving?
Right away a text came back. Kyle was the fastest texter Brody had ever seen. The guy was always on his phone. Making deals.
I’m using the talk-to-text thing in my car. It’s not as easy as it sounds. I have to say the punctuation out loud. By the way, is talk-to-text hyphenated?
Brody replied, Let’s go with yes.
Jackson wrote back next. What did you do to the woman who wants your head on a platter?
A second or two later, another text came through from Kyle.
It was a little misunderstanding about whether we were exclusive or not. Totally not my fault. Seriously, it wasn’t this time.
Brody shook his head, alarmed. Since Kyle started making money as a real estate developer, his self-confidence with women had risen at the same rate as his income. Brody suspected he was trying to prove to himself and everyone around him that he could get whatever and whomever he wanted. Honor said it was only natural, given his stark childhood. Kyle, like Zane, had grown up with a single father. The difference, as far as Brody could tell, is that Zane’s father had been loving and supportive. Kyle didn’t talk about his dad, but he’d come to USC as an emancipated minor. Whatever he’d emancipated himself from couldn’t have been good.
“Honor thinks he’s overcompensating to prove to everyone that he isn’t just some poor kid from the country,” Brody said. Kyle had grown up in a small, depressed town somewhere in Washington State where, according to his description, the sun never shone, and everything smelled of poverty and mildew.
“Did he tell you he signed up for flight lessons? He wants to buy his own plane.” Jackson tore part of the label off his beer. “Do you know how many people die in small planes every year? The man does not make good decisions.”
Chapter Nine
Kara
Kara sipped her beer and tried to concentrate on the novel open in front of her. She’d read the same paragraph five times. Around her, the restaurant and bar filled with people. Soon, every seat at the bar was taken, other than the one next to her. People eat at the bar alone all the time. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Shame. It was as constant as the ache in her chest. How had she been so blind? Would she ever be able to forgive herself?
By the time she’d finished her first beer, the place had gone from quiet to rowdy. Laughter and voices surrounded her. Happy people spending time with friends and family. A night out to enjoy one another.
She’d had friends—from the hospital and her volunteer work at the library. Jessica’s face flashed before her eyes.
She and Jessica had clung to each other as they’d said goodbye for the last time.
“They can’t take our memories,” Kara said.
“They’re taking you,” Jessica said. “It’s the only way. I know that, but I don’t want to let you go.”
Kara held her friend tightly, but she couldn’t cry. She’d pushed the grief down for so long it was now stuck in her gut, boiling like a witch’s brew. “I’m sorry.”
“If I could know that you’ll be all right, that you’ll be happy in your new life, it would help,” Jessica said. “Promise me you’ll try and make new friends and meet a man and have a family. All the things we’ve dreamt of.”
“I promise,” Kara said. “If you promise me that you’ll be careful with your heart. Don’t give it away to the wrong man.”
Jessica smiled as she wiped her eyes. “Without you, I’m afraid I’ll do exactly that. You always see people for exactly who they are.”
“Throw a Super Bowl party, Jess,” Kara said. “A huge one—bigger than last year. For me.”
“When we’re old ladies and all the bad people have died, you’ll find me, right?” Jessica asked.
“Yes. I’ll find you. We can live in the old ladies’ home together.”
“I hope they’ll let us watch football,” Jessica said.
“And have wine.”
Since the last day of the trial, tears had come readily. She must not cry. Not here in public. Be here, not there.
A female server rushed past the counter with a full tray of tacos. She was dressed in white jeans and a football type jersey with the restaurant logo on the front and what Kara assumed was her last name on the back. The other server wore the same. Why football?
Zane placed a plate of tacos, beans, and rice in front of her. The aroma of cilantro and lime made her stomach rumble.
“Enjoy,” he said.
“I think I’m in love with Taco Tuesday. My best friend and I used to go to a Mexican place in our neighborhood back home.” Her voice wobbled. The memories were too fresh, too poignant.
“Hey, you okay?” Zane asked.
She forced a smile. “I’m feeling a little homesick. I miss my friends.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. “I have friends. I can share.”
“I’d like that.”
“Stick around after you eat. A few of my buddies are coming by. I’ll introduce you, okay?”
“Are you sure? I’d hate to be in the way.”
“You kidding? You’ll be a breath of fresh air.”
“Then, yes. I would love to meet your friends.” Kara gestured toward the passing server, hoping to change the subject before she started crying. “How come football jerseys?”
“Ah, well, that’s a secret.”
“A secret?”
Zane’s aquamarine eyes twinkled mischievously as he leaned across the counter. His voice dipped to a whisper. “If I tell you, then you’re sworn to remain in Cliffside Bay forever. We’re like Vegas. What happens here, stays here. Do I have your word?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He backed away a few inches and raised his voice slightly. “Brody Mullen lives here.”
“The quarterback?” The Brody Mullen? Her football nemesis?
“That’s right. His primary home is here.”
“Really?” Brody Mullen lived in Cliffside Bay. Jessica would be beside herself. If only she could call and tell her.
“The jerseys are an inside joke,” Zane said. “After the townspeople finally accepted Brody as a permanent resident, he was then indoctrinated into the fold, so to speak. Meaning, no one ever talks about him to the outside world or alerts anyone that he lives here. That way he can live a normal life without being hounded.” He chuckled. “It may take a while, but once you’re in, you’re in for life.”
“Brody Mullen,” she said. “So bizarre.”
“You a football fan?” he asked.
“You could say that.” She lowered her voice. “But not the Sharks. Raptors. Forever.”
He clutched his heart. “You’re killing me.”
“Bashing on Mullen is a sport in itself. No offense, but he comes off as such a jerk on the field. I hate him more than anyone else in football.”
He laughed. “He’ll be here later with the rest of our buddies. Mostly women swoon over him, so I’ll be sure to tell him there’s a woman who does not.
”
“What? You’re like real friends with him?”
“Yes ma’am. Best friends. Since college.”
“When he played for USC?”
“Yep. We met in the dorms Freshman year. Stuck together ever since.”
“Oh my God, and he’s coming here?” Her cheeks flamed as she flushed, embarrassed by her admission of her fervent hatred of a man she didn’t even know in real life. “Please, don’t tell him I said he seems like a jerk.”
“It’s too late to take it back. I’m dying to introduce you now.”
Holy God. She was going to meet Brody Mullen.
“Don’t look so excited,” Zane said. “Stay focused. Bashing, remember?”
“I can guarantee you I’ll act like a complete fool.”
“Nah. He’s a totally normal guy. Salt of the earth. He’d give you the shirt off his back if you needed it.” Zane placed another beer in front of her. “He may look like a jerk, but he’s the opposite. Now, eat your tacos. You’ll need your strength if you’re partying with us later.”
Partying with us? The first day in Cliffside Bay was not going at all as predicted.
Chapter Ten
Brody
Brody and Jackson sat at a window table in The Oar. The place hummed with energy, fueled by good beer and cheap tacos. Brody had missed this when he was in the city. He’d missed his friends and this place and feeling like a regular person.
Zane arrived at their table with plates of tacos. After he set them down, he sat in one of the empty chairs. “I have a surprise for you guys.”
“What kind of surprise?” asked Jackson.
“There’s a new girl in town,” Zane said. “And she’s gorgeous and smart.”
“No one ever moves here,” Brody said. “Especially not young women.”
“Especially not gorgeous and smart ones,” Jackson said.
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