by Doreen Alsen
She hiccupped, a painful spasm of her diaphragm. Even worse, he was exploiting her very flawed, scarred face.
She tore off the towel she’d wrapped around her, pulled on some yoga pants and a huge T-shirt. After finding a duffel bag, she threw some clothes into it, stuffed her feet into a beat up pair of flip-flops, and left her house.
She didn’t know where she was going but the urge to run away nipped at her heels like an angry dog.
She revved up the engine of her cute little white VW and pulled out into the street. She didn’t spare a glance at Tim’s house as she sped off into the night.
Chapter Forty
Before Tim could get dressed so he could run over to Angelique’s, he heard her car fire up.
He made it to a window to see it peel out.
Damn.
Where the hell was she going? How could she leave without listening to him?
Yeah, what he’d done was wrong, but she had to give him a chance to make it right.
Running away never solved anything.
Except for one big ass ol’ huge thing.
Wasn’t he running away and hiding here in Lobster Cove, trying to outrun ISIS and the ghosts of his beheaded colleagues?
No, he decided. It wasn’t the same thing. Not at all. Once he got past his photography block, he could leave Lobster Cove, if he wanted to.
Right now, he just didn’t want to.
In the meantime, he had to find Angelique, to make sure she was safe. She was too upset to be driving around out there all by herself.
If something happened, he would never forgive himself.
So where would she go?
Her only friends were her co-workers from the Sea Crest Inn and Beth. Maybe he should call Beth.
Beth was a good friend. She’d take Angelique in for the night and help her calm down.
But he better check that was what happened. Then he’d go over there tomorrow and plead his case again. She couldn’t tune him out forever, because hadn’t she told him she loved him?
Cold sweat trickled down his back. What if she didn’t love him? What if using her as his muse to court back his gift stripped away all her love for him.
What an arrogant ass he’d been trying to keep both Angelique and his talent for taking the perfect shot, when all along it had been either slash or…
If she didn’t forgive him, he would have nothing, not her love, not his talent.
He’d be nothing.
Despair pulled at him like a riptide destroyed the beach. He had to make this right. He had to make a choice.
Tim chose Angelique, if she’d still have him.
Failing with her would kill him, tearing his soul into tiny, rusted, ragged pieces. He’d never come back from that and he couldn’t blame it on ISIS.
It was all on him.
****
“What do you mean she’s not here?” Tim threw up his hands as he paced across the floor of Jeff and Beth’s living room.
“What I said. Angelique isn’t here. What I want to know is why you think she should be here.” Jeff took a sip of his coffee.
Tim threw himself into a chair. “We had a fight last night and she left. I guess I thought she’d come here because she’s friends with Beth.”
“Why didn’t she just stay in her own house?”
“I don’t know.”
“You must have really made her mad. What did you do?”
Tim swallowed. He’d dreaded this moment for so very, very long. “I haven’t been quite honest with everybody. Something happened back in Iraq.”
“Yeah, you nearly got killed, which, by the way, I’m glad didn’t happen.”
Might as well just spit it out. “I lost my ability to take pictures.”
“What?”
“I try to take a picture and my finger freezes on the shutter and I get this panicky feeling. Sometimes I puke my guts up. I always can’t breathe.”
“Jesus, Tim.” Jeff put his cup on the coffee table and leaned forward in his chair. “Are you talking to anybody about that?”
“Obviously not. The thing is I can take pictures as long as Angelique is in the frame.”
Jeff didn’t say anything for a beat and a half. “Holy shit. And didn’t I tell you to go get help!”
“And can you not lecture me until I tell you the whole story? So I took pictures of her, knowing that she didn’t want her picture taken, that she didn’t even know I was taking pictures of her. I just couldn’t help myself. It was like having my soul back, you know? So, I was going to tell her last night and show her this album I made, and, you know, let her see how beautiful she is in my eyes and ask her if she’d pose for me.” He didn’t tell Jeff he was going to ask her to marry him. It was just too humiliating.
“What’d she say?”
“Let’s just say she didn’t react the way I hoped she would. I tried to explain, but she wouldn’t listen. Like ran away rather than talk to me.”
“Man. You really screwed the pooch on that one.” Jeff shook his head.
“Yeah, I know.” Tim stood, shoved his hands in his pockets, and started to pace again. “I’ve got to find her so I can make her see why I kept it a secret.”
“Why did you keep it a secret?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Total stupidity. Because I’m a coward? Pick one. Pick both.”
“Well, she didn’t come here. Maybe Betts or Birdie McCorkle might know.”
Tim chuffed out a breath. “I guess I should swing by the Sea Crest Inn.”
“That’s what I’d do.”
“What if she’s not there?”
“I don’t know what to tell you, man. Start at the Sea Crest and go from there.”
“Yeah, I suppose. Listen,” Tim stopped pacing. “If she calls Beth, can you let me know?”
“Depends on what she tells Beth. I’m not going to go behind Beth’s back.”
Tim sighed. Sometimes Jeff being a stand-up guy really pissed him off. “Right. Well, the sooner I get going, the faster I’ll find her.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
Tim had the sneaking suspicion he was going to need it.
Chapter Forty-One
Angelique stood at the end of a deserted pier watching the gray sea churn in big rolling waves. The color of the sky matched the water, so it was difficult to see where one stopped and the other began. The wind whipped stinging salt spray around her.
She wore old jeans and they were a little tight, because of the five or so pounds she’d put on since she’d stopped modeling. Her stomach boiled just like the water. She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her Lobster Cove Sharks hoodie and let her mind go.
Her white canvas Keds were soaked and the cold from the rain migrated upward through her body.
Lucien wanted her to go back to Addington, but she didn’t want to go there. She had to solve this on her own.
Which meant she had to go back to Lobster Cove and face Tim.
She couldn’t believe that he had lied to her, especially as he knew all her issues. Dieu, issues was such a weak word for what was wrong with her.
She was no one’s ticket to salvation. Tim needed more help than she could give him. Exhibit A was his last brush with death while sailing, needing to be rescued by the Coast Guard and fighting them on it. It was only days until he took delivery of a new boat, then it was back to the races for him.
She couldn’t sit by and watch him self-destruct. She loved him too much.
Angelique didn’t understand about the whole inability to take pictures thing, but maybe if he could make her understand, she could forgive him.
But she wouldn’t get back with him until he got his act together. Someone had to be the grown up in the room.
She sighed. She had to go back to Lobster Cove soon as she couldn’t keep hiding out here on Cape Cod. She’d made promises to Betts and Birdie and a host of other people and she was not about to let them down.
Maybe
it was time to pack up and go home.
Home to Lobster Cove.
****
It wasn’t the first time Tim wished that ISIS had killed him dead.
Angelique had been gone for two weeks.
Two very long miserable weeks.
No one knew where she was, with the exception of Birdie McCorkle and Birdie wasn’t tweeting, no matter how hard he begged.
Actually, she wasn’t talking to him at all. She wouldn’t even acknowledge his presence as he was having breakfast with Jeff and his family at the Sea Crest Inn.
The terminally perky waitress who took their order managed to bring Jeff and Beth’s coffee with no problem. She apparently forgot Tim’s and went back to the wait station to fetch it.
Tim watched while she poured the cup and left it there on the station to do something else. When she did finally get around to delivering the damn coffee, it had gone stone cold.
He didn’t complain, just glugged it down and pretended it was the most delicious beverage ever.
She came back to the table to see if anyone wanted a refill, and he told her yes. She sniffed, lifted her nose, and trotted off, walking past the wait station and into the kitchen.
“You’re pretty popular around here,” Jeff said in between bites of his cheese Danish.
“Yep.” Tim hadn’t a clue that anyone at the Inn knew about Tim and Angelique’s relationship. “I’m a real superstar.”
“Do you want me to ask around, see if I can find out where Angelique went?” Beth handed Danny a wet nap. “I think you’re wearing more blueberry pancakes than you ate,” she told her son.
Danny’s face split into the biggest grin ever known to mankind.
Oh, did Tim ever want to know, more than anything. He longed for news about Angelique. Instead, he shook his head. “No use chasing after her. She’ll get back in touch with me when she’s ready.”
“When’s the last time you slept?” Beth said.
He shook his head again. “I sleep.” If you counted snoozing off in catnaps on his couch that lasted about twenty minutes. He hadn’t gone back to his bed since Angelique left.
And then there was the fact that the re-enactment nightmares were back.
“Okay, let me re-phrase the question. When was the last time you slept an entire REM cycle?”
He sighed. “I’m fine.” She opened her mouth to say something but Tim headed her off at the pass. “I am. I appreciate the concern, I really do, but you need to leave it alone.”
Beth clearly didn’t agree with that, but she didn’t say anything else. The waitress showed back up with a cup of piping hot coffee and put it in front of him. “Can I get you anything else?” Her face dared him to ask for something.
“No thanks,” he said, feeling drenched in weariness and failure. “I’m good.”
Or at least he might be. One day.
Chapter Forty-Two
“Hey, you’re back! Does Tim know yet?”
Angelique turned to see Birdie McCorkle lumbering across the kitchen of the Sea Crest Inn toward her. “I haven’t run into him yet.”
“The poor lad’s been miserable while you were away. You need to forgive him and give him a second chance.”
Tim was miserable?
Good.
Time to change the subject. “When did you schedule your makeover?”
“Marge has me down for Saturday at two in the afternoon. I made sure you have the time off.”
“Oh.” She blinked. “Good. At Hair’s the Thing, right?”
“Aye! Marge is looking forward to getting some tips from you.”
Mon Dieu! “I’m not a hairstylist, so I hope I don’t disappoint her.”
“Sure and you won’t disappoint her.” She sighed. “Remember what I said about Tim. You two are adorable together.” She clasped her hands together in front of her. “Meant to be.”
Angelique rubbed a hand over her stomach as she watched Birdie walk away.
A notorious matchmaker and believer in Destiny and happily ever after, of course Birdie would say that she and Tim were meant to be.
Somehow, she didn’t think Destiny had gotten Birdie’s memo on that subject.
****
“Hey! Did you hear? Angelique’s back in town.”
Tim stopped rubbing wax on the keel of his new boat and slanted a glance up to Jeff. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Maggie’s. Sally couldn’t wait to tell me.” Jeff picked up a terry cloth, scraped it across the jar of wax Tim had open, and rubbed it onto the keel in circular motions.
“I bet.”
“So have you seen her yet?”
“No.” Maybe if he punched Jeff in the mouth he’d shut up and just keep on helping him spiff up the boat.
He’d probably be left polishing the keel alone, so punching Jeff’s lights out wouldn’t be his wisest choice.
“What are you going to do?”
“About what?”
Jeff snorted. “About Angelique. And don’t try to tell me that you’re not jumping out of your skin at the thought she’s back in town.”
“I don’t know. Seeing me might just send her scrambling out of town again.”
“Maybe.” Jeff dipped his cloth into the wax and gathered some up. “It’s also within the realm of possibility that she’s back to talk to you.”
“If that was the case, she’d have gotten in touch with me by now.” Tim attacked the hull of the boat with another cloth full of wax.
“So, you’re just going to give up.”
“I don’t see as I have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice. And here’s a clue.” Jeff grinned. “It involves groveling.”
“Groveling?”
“A lot of groveling. But it’s worth it in the end.”
“Easy for you to say.” Tim grunted.
Jeff stared at him for a minute without speaking. “I never took you for a coward.”
Yellow was his new favorite color. “I guess you don’t know me very well at all.”
“Bullshit.” Jeff’s tone of voice was heartfelt. “I know you better than anybody else on this earth and I know when you’re fronting.”
Jeff’s comment brought heat to the top of his head. “Then how didn’t you know that I couldn’t take pictures? That I was so fucking relieved that you didn’t ask me to take your wedding photos.”
Jeff cleared his throat. “I needed my best friend to be my best man, not my photographer. It had nothing to do with pictures of the wedding. It came down to our friendship, bro, photos be damned.” He stood and fisted his hands by his sides. “You mean so much more to me than your ability to see through a camera lens to take an awesome picture of my lady love.”
He suppressed a laugh. “Lady love. Who do you think you are? Who do you expect me to be? Sir freakin’ Galahad?”
“Are you kidding me? Women love that kind of stuff. Why do you think those Scarlette LaFlamme books are so popular?”
“Scarlette La Who?” He’d never heard of her.
“ I told you. She writes these historical romance novels. Beth is just crazy about them.” Jeff chuckled. “Sometimes I think I need to write that woman a thank you note.”
“TMI, buddy. T. M. I.”
“What do you have to lose by just going to her house and hanging out until she talks to you?”
“If she wants to talk to me, she knows where to find me.”
Jeff shook his head. “Dude.” He turned his back on Tim and started rubbing wax onto the boat hull again.
Tim rubbed the back of his hand across his chin. He tried to get back into working on the Melges again so he could clear his head, but thoughts of Angelique lingered on the edge of his mind.
Just like they always did. She was the ghost that was always with him, teasing him on the wind, driving him crazy.
Jeff had a point. He couldn’t go on like this. He had to pull out all the stops to get her talking to him again.
He needed to get her back
, plain and simple. Without her, his life meant nothing.
Less than nothing.
****
“Did you see this?” Birdie held a copy of People magazine out to Angelique.
Uh-oh. “No.”
“Take it and turn to the section called ‘Found on the Beach.’”
She took it with all the caution one might use when reaching for a rattlesnake. Feeling her stomach roll, she swallowed back the bile that threatened to choke her.
The paparazzi had found her.
The photos were not the best quality. A picture of her setting up food at Tim’s book signing. A grainy, long distance pic of the two of them on the beach.
Tim was easily identifiable in some of the photos. Angelique, not so much. Her glasses covered a multitude of sins. But her name was attached to the pictures and that was enough to bring the reporters and the crowds.
She heard a loud buzzing in her ears. It took a second for her to realize that Birdie was talking to her. “What?”
“I’m gathering all the copies of the magazine as I can and putting them out with the rubbish. I’ll alert Bobbie Darling as well, so she can take them off the shelves at Cliff Notes.”
“You can do that?”
“Hmmmmpf. This is Lobster Cove. We take care of our own.”
One of Lobster Cove’s own. Tears clogged her throat. She swiped at her nose with the back of her hand. In the short time she’d lived there, she’d become part of the family, as it were. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Birdie looked around then pulled a room key out of her pocket. “Now, I want you to go on up to room 208 and relax away from all the prying eyes.”
“But my shift isn’t over.”
“We’re not busy and you’ll be no good to us, as upset as you are. In the meantime, I’ll go to your house and get you some clothes, some of your things. Make me a list.” She pressed the key into Angelique’s hands.
“Thank you.” She blinked back the moisture welling up in her eyes. At the moment, all she wanted to do was run away and hide under her bed.”
****
