Love Finds You in Carmel by-the-Sea, California

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Love Finds You in Carmel by-the-Sea, California Page 16

by Sandra D. Bricker


  “Annie, I’m so disappointed,” Jenny said. Then she peeled back a broad grin, adding, “You thought I would date someone like Nick?”

  “Well, I wondered,” she managed as a comeback. “But then when you said you wanted to move out to your own place as soon as possible, my opinion of you brightened considerably.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Years from now when you talk about this… and you will…be kind.”

  Deborah Kerr, Tea and Sympathy, 1956

  The four of them walked outside after the second movie, Evan bending Jenny’s ear about anything and everything film-related. Nick wondered if the guy always talked so incessantly.

  “Yes, and you know that curvy road where they drove together that one afternoon?” Jenny exclaimed. “That was the very same road where Grace Kelly died in a car crash twenty-some years later.”

  “I think I read that somewhere.”

  Come to think of it, Jenny’s contributing her share of the chatter. Maybe the two were made for each other.

  Nick moved in beside Annie and placed an arm loosely around her shoulder.

  “Great California night, isn’t it?”

  “Beautiful,” she replied.

  “Up for a café au lait?”

  “Caffeine? You?”

  “They do make them caffeine-free, Annie.”

  She smiled up at him, and his gut took a sudden and unexpected flip when their eyes met.

  “Did you hear that?” she asked him.

  He gazed at her for a moment, wondering if the thumping of his pulse could possibly be audible outside his own body.

  “Hear…what?”

  “Evan, that’s a wonderful idea! Let’s do all go for a coffee. Do you want to, Nick?”

  Annie raised her palm toward Jenny and Evan, and she grinned. “Kismet. They’re talking about getting coffee too.”

  They walked over to the café on the corner and pulled two small tables together near the window. The waitress delivered cappuccinos for Jenny and Evan, a café au lait for Nick, and a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream for Annie. As Evan and Jenny chattered on, exchanging all the Grace Kelly and Cary Grant trivia either of them had stored up, Nick and Annie gravitated toward one another.

  “I saw Deke this morning,” she told him. “He looks good.”

  “Yeah, I stopped by the hospital last night just before visiting hours were over. He was eating orange gelatin and talking baseball with one of the nurses.”

  Annie popped with laughter.

  “You should have seen him when that nurse dared to infer there was another ball club in the league that might make it to the next World Series outside of his precious Chicago Cubs. His face was all bunched up. I thought he might have another heart attack.”

  “But of course it’s a given,” she interjected, “that the chances of the Cubs going to the Series—”

  “Yes, but we won’t tell that to Deacon. We want him healthy again as soon as possible.”

  Annie released a rolling chuckle before she took a drink from her hot chocolate. Nick loved the way her nose wrinkled each time she took a sip from the cup.

  She’s a real beauty, this one. He wondered how a woman could be so exquisite and so childlike at the same time.

  When Annie set the cup down again, she immediately noticed Nick gazing at her, and she smiled at him. He felt the poke of that perfect smile in a deep spot just beneath his ribs.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he said with a slight shake of the head. “I just can’t believe you thought I was dating Jenny. She’s barely out of college!”

  “Well, how was I to know you’re not a dirty old man? How old are you anyway? Fifty? Sixty?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her, an intentional threat dancing within them. Annie started to giggle, and Nick melted into a grin. “Thirty-plus.”

  After a moment, he fell quiet again, lowering his head. “I guess I thought you realized I was interested in someone else.”

  “Someone other than Jenny?”

  “Yes,” he replied, looking her squarely in the eye. “I thought you and I might be building toward something.”

  His heartbeat doubled, pounding hard against his chest. Before Annie, it had been something like five years since he’d declared any real interest in a woman. But here he was again with Annie, putting it all out there.

  Nick’s palms turned to ice in an instant when it seemed as if Annie’s breath caught in her throat.

  “Am I wrong?”

  She opened her mouth, but nothing came out besides a tiny fraction of a noise. She tried again, with the same result.

  “Okay. Maybe I’m wrong, then.”

  “N–no,” she managed. “You’re not…entirely wrong. I’m just—”

  “So happy to learn that I’m not involved with Jenny?”

  “Well. Yes.”

  “And so relieved to discover that I’m still interested in you, after all these weeks of being a good boy.”

  She released one hard chuckle, and Nick breathed again.

  “And you can’t find the words to retract your former position on the issue of me kissing you.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I told you I’d never kiss you again unless you asked me. Go ahead, Annie Gray. Ask me.”

  Annie glanced over at Evan, and Nick followed her gaze. Evan nattered on, completely oblivious to the presence of anyone at all besides Jenny.

  “I’ll have to give that some further consideration,” she said. “I’m not entirely sure you’re kiss-worthy.”

  “Ahhh,” he groaned, holding his chest in wounded amusement. “Me? Not kiss-worthy? Annie Gray, you are so sadly mistaken.”

  “I think that remains to be seen,” she told him with confidence. “I’ll get back to you.”

  The afternoon mail brought a few checks, some junk mail, and a beautiful Italian postcard.

  Thank you so much for everything you did to get us here.

  We’re having the time of our lives. God bless you both.

  —Marion and Davis Armbrewster

  Annie flipped it over and admired the mesmerizing Tuscan valley pictured there.

  Peeling a tab of tape from the dispenser on her desk, she displayed the card from the top of her In box where she could look at it every day. Not just because of the spectacular scene, but also because the card served as a wonderful reminder of her very first case with Heffley Investigations. It seemed more like three years ago than three months since she’d made the leap, but Annie had enjoyed every minute.

  Her concentration on Italian wine country broke as the front door opened. She squinted against the light, and a familiar and expansive smile drew one of her own.

  “Tyra!”

  Annie leaped around her desk and tossed her arms around her friend, and the two of them squealed in a sort of dancing embrace. Nick appeared in the doorway in response to their high-pitched sounds. When he found Annie safe and sound, he waved a hand and disappeared back into the office.

  “Come on in and sit down. Tell me all the dirt about Equity Now.”

  “Oh, it’s the same old place, girl.” Her face dropped, and she looked at Annie so seriously that it scared her a little. “That’s not why I’m here.”

  “Uh-oh. That sounds ominous.”

  “I need your help.”

  It took Tyra more than a half hour to unfold the entire family drama centering around her widowed mother of sixty-two and the thirty-eight-year-old Casanova romancing her.

  “I’m so worried about her, Annie. I know there’s something sinister going on there. He’s just not right.”

  “What’s his name?” Annie asked, picking up a pen and turning to a clean page on her pad of paper.

  “Marques DeLeon.”

  “And what do you know about him? Anything at all? Where is he from? Where did he go to school? How did they meet?”

  “Mama took a seniors’ cruise with her girlfriends from her garden club,” Tyra began, pausing to gla
nce down at the floor. She shook her head and looked at Annie, her dark eyes brimming with tears. “He was one of the tour guides that showed them around at the ports.”

  “So he works for the cruise line?”

  “Yes.”

  Annie made a whole page of notes before their conversation concluded.

  “How much is this going to cost me?” Tyra asked. “I don’t have a lot of money.”

  “This one’s on the house, sweetie,” Annie told her, squeezing her hand. “It’s just a background check, and we do those all the time. I don’t think Nick will mind.”

  “Nick’s the guy in there?”

  “Right.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. Just hang in there, and I’ll get back to you in a day or so. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Tyra accepted the tissue Annie handed her from the box on her desk, and she dabbed it at her nose before telling Annie, “He’s kinda hot.”

  “DeLeon?”

  “No,” she whispered, nodding toward Deke’s office with a quick grin. “Your boss.”

  “Oh, Nick? Yeah. I guess.”

  Tyra sniffed. “Thanks, Annie. I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “You came to the right place. I’ll find something out, and I’ll call you.”

  The second Annie rose up from her chair, Tyra rounded the desk and wrapped her in her arms again, burying her damp face in her neck and thanking her over and over again.

  “I don’t want you to worry, Ty. Trust me, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Now tell me about the job,” Annie urged, hoping to introduce another subject that wouldn’t be so emotional.

  “Oh, giiiirl,” she cried in her own inimitable style. “The calls are backed up in the queue from the first thing in the morning until the last thing at night. You know? And the big deal this week is how nobody’s keeping to their break and lunch schedules, so now we’re going to be docked if we deviate, even the least little bit. And girl, I’m too old to be asking for permission every time I have to use the little girl’s room.”

  Before long, they were giggling and gabbing like teenagers at a slumber party, and Tyra’s spirit appeared to be a few hundred feet higher than when she arrived.

  “I’ve got to finish up these reports on my desk today,” Annie told her as Tyra prepared to leave. “But first thing in the morning, I’ll run a complete background history on our friend DeLeon. It usually takes twenty-four to forty-eight hours to get the findings, but I’ll call you as soon as I have something.”

  “Thank you so much, Annie.”

  “If this is what it takes to get you to come and see me, then so be it,” she teased. “I know. I’m sorry. I really have missed you.”

  They hugged again, and Annie watched her departure through the window behind her desk. Leaving Equity Now was a blessing, of course. But leaving Tyra behind had been one of the few things that hindered the celebration.

  “Friend of yours, I take it.”

  Nick collapsed into the chair Tyra had occupied, and Annie turned toward him and relaxed into her own.

  “Very good friend.”

  “And her mom’s a mark?”

  “You heard? Yeah, it looks that way.”

  “Charging her the deep discount rate?”

  Their eyes met, and Annie cringed. “It’s just for the initial background check. If we need to go further, I can—”

  “Settle down, Annie Gray. I get it.”

  She narrowed her eyes, regarding him with curiosity.

  “She’s a friend. She came to you for help. I get it.”

  He gave her one of those Nick Benchley lopsided grins, dimples flying like a flag, and her heart started to thump again. “Thanks, Nick.”

  “Don’t thank me,” he cracked as he stood up. “You’re the one who will be doing all the work.”

  “I heard you met up with an old friend of mine.”

  Annie glanced up at her gram and smiled. “Did she tell you what a dork I was?”

  “She said you were charming.”

  “Charming like a stalker.”

  Dot chuckled as she dunked a tea bag into her cup. She sat down at the kitchen table across from Annie and rubbed the top of her hand.

  “Want to know a secret, Annie?”

  Annie nodded.

  “I’m a little awestruck by Doris Day myself.”

  Annie grinned. “All those great movies, so elegant and beautiful.”

  “She still is.”

  “She sure is.”

  “There’s only two of the greats,” Gram told her, pausing to take a sip of tea, “who always seemed to have that radiance about them, almost like they had their own backlighting wherever they went: Doris Day and Grace Kelly.”

  “That’s the truth,” she agreed. “I really envy you, Gram, being part of that whole thing. Hollywood was so glamorous then.”

  “Certainly not like today.”

  “No. It was pre-paparazzi.”

  “Oh, they weren’t called the paparazzi, but we had them back then. The only difference was that they pretty much printed what agents, publicists, and studio executives told them to print. We had our Lindsay Lohans and Mel Gibsons. We just didn’t wear them like a community-wide badge of honor.”

  “Does life seem awfully boring to you now?” Annie asked her.

  “Boring?” she replied with a chuckle. “Oh my, no. I’m living the life I always dreamed about.”

  “You had all that, and this is what you were dreaming about?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, it was fun. But this life here in Carmel, with my garden and my cottage and the Pacific Ocean rising up to greet me every morning, and especially now, with you and Sherman here—this is real life, Annie. This is the sweet and gentle whisper I kept hearing but couldn’t quite reach.”

  Annie threaded her fingers into her hair and leaned on her elbow.

  “Do you know that scripture?” her gram asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Elijah went running for his life, and he hid out in a cave in the mountains. When God found him, He told him to stand outside and wait because the presence of the Lord was going to pass by.”

  “Oh, right,” Annie said. “And the wind came.”

  “But God wasn’t in the wind. Nor was He in the earthquake or the fire, as you might expect. When the Lord’s presence arrived at Elijah’s door, it was a sweet, gentle whisper that greeted him. All the other stuff was just Hollywood drama.”

  Annie giggled. “That’s a beautiful verse.”

  “I love that passage because it tells us that our destiny doesn’t always have to be in the big, showy things, Annie,” Gram explained. “Sometimes it’s going to be in the softer, sweeter things of life, the ones that bring that safe feeling, like the comfort of home. Wasn’t that what you said you were looking for the night that you made your list at this table?”

  Annie tilted her head and sighed. “Are you trying to tell me something, Gram?”

  Dot just smiled, and Annie reached across the table and stole a sip from her grandmother’s teacup. “Mmm. That’s good. What is it?”

  “Darjeeling.”

  She took one more sip before placing the delicate cup on the saucer again. When she began to pull her hand back, Dot caught it and gave it a squeeze.

  “Do you know how much I love you?” she asked.

  “I think so,” Annie replied.

  “I’m very proud of you for setting out on this search for what will make you happy. It’s a little like a spiritual sojourn.”

  “A happiness safari,” Annie added.

  “As long as you keep things in perspective along the way, I think this pursuit will be an adventure you’ll never forget.”

  Annie smiled thoughtfully. “Thanks, Gram. Can I make a cup of that tea for myself?”

  “Certainly.”

  As she filled the kettle and put the water on to boil, Annie wondered what might be ahead of her. Adventu
res in Casablanca? Romance and An Affair to Remember? Perhaps some intrigue and a Maltese Falcon or two.

  The Scripture verse fluttered across her memory, and she said a silent prayer that any whispers that crossed her path might be heard above the din of heavy winds and roaring earthquakes.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Bond. James Bond.”

  Sean Connery, From Russia with Love, 1963

  Marques DeLeon had a relatively clean record aside from a couple of parking tickets and a citation for lapsed insurance. Prior to gainful employment with Elegance CruiseLines, he’d been a waiter, a bartender, a dance instructor, and a messenger. He married in 2006, divorced a year later; no children resulted.

  “Anything interesting?” Nick asked when he emerged from Deke’s office for the first time all afternoon.

  “Nothing at all. Marques DeLeon seems pretty much like a regular Joe.”

  “Mar–kez Day–lee–own,” Nick enunciated with dramatic flair, and he clicked his heels in punctuation.

  He looked silly, and it drew a chuckle out of Annie.

  “Plans for dinner?” he asked.

  “Nope. You?”

  “I was thinking about checking out a new place near the village. Want to join me?”

  “Sure.”

  “I have to warn you, the cuisine might be a little cleaner than you’re used to.”

  “Oh, please. Don’t start with me on that. Just let me tidy up my desk.”

  Ten minutes later, Annie followed Nick’s Jeep toward Carmel and through the village. Not until he whipped into one of the driveways at the end of a cul-de-sac did it occur to her that the “new place” nearby might actually be Nick’s home.

  He lives in Carmel? Annie wondered why she didn’t know that.

  A stone arch shielded the front door from the street, creating a lovely Mediterranean courtyard entrance; simple and non-ornamental, kind of like Nick. Casement windows framed by slate blue wooden grills matched the heavy tile roof. Annie parked in the driveway behind him and smiled as he sauntered toward her.

  “Nice place. What’s it called?” she asked through her open car window.

 

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