by Maria Geraci
Sam pulled his cell phone from the back pocket of his jeans and scrolled through his texts. “I’m happy to report that she and Mom are currently on a guided tour of Georgia Tech.”
“Where you’re hoping she’ll go to college?”
“Or Tulane. Either one is fine with me.” He slipped the phone back into his pocket.
Annie remembered something else from their conversation last night. “You said you made a deal with her. If she applied to college, then you’d apply to be on Single Gal. Why was that an issue? Doesn’t she want to go to college?”
“She wants to take a gap year first.” His tone told her exactly what he thought of that plan.
“And you don’t think that’s a good idea?”
“She just turned eighteen. She wouldn’t know a good idea if it came up and introduced itself.” He paused. “I take that back. Becks is great. Very mature for her age. But in this instance, I think I know what’s best for her.”
“I wish I’d taken a gap year.” She bent down and retrieved a pretty-looking shell, admired it for a few seconds, then dropped it back on the sand. “I would have loved to travel or done some volunteer work. But once you go to school and graduate, you get caught up in the whole grad school or job search thing, and the fun stuff gets put on the back burner.”
“Maybe if you’d taken that gap year, you’d have never gone to college. You could have gotten derailed. You can always travel or do volunteer work later. Look at you. You have an MBA from the University of Chicago. Don’t tell me you have any regrets about that.”
“Don’t get me started on regrets,” she said.
“Is this about that whole unfortunate incident thing?”
Annie stopped walking and whipped around to face him. “How do you know about that?”
Sam froze, like he wasn’t sure what to say next. She had a sudden urge to rip off his sunglasses so that she could see the expression in his eyes. He regrouped quickly. “You told me last night,” he said. “At the diner.”
“No, I didn’t. I told you that at one time I worked for a Fortune 500 company but that I didn’t want to talk about it.”
Sam shoved a hand through his hair. “You probably won’t like this. Rudy, that’s the clerk at The Conquistador Inn, mentioned something about a boyfriend who might have taken off to Madrid and left you high and dry.”
Annie moaned. “Oh God.”
“I asked him about fishing boat rentals, and he gave me your cousin’s business card. When I saw the last name was Esposito, I told him I’d driven by a dealership with the same last name, and he volunteered the information about you.”
“I just bet he did. Rudy Garcia is this town’s biggest gossip. And it wasn’t Madrid. It was London. In a nutshell, I left a really great job to follow my boyfriend, Russell, to a different continent, where he dumped me a couple of weeks later, leaving me jobless, which resulted in my becoming the town’s much-beloved object of pity.”
“So that’s how you ended up working for your dad?”
“My grandmother likes to call it ‘Annie’s Unfortunate Incident.’ I just had no idea that the rest of the town called it that too.”
He went quiet. “Annie—”
“Please don’t say I’m better off without Russell. I know that. And I know I have to break up with Walter. And … I also know it’s time to move on and get another job.”
“How’s your family going to feel about that?”
“Honestly? I think they’ll be thrilled. Not the part about me leaving town. They’ll miss me, and I’ll miss them like crazy, but it’s way past time to get on with my life. The dealership is in great shape, and now that Frank Jr. is on board full time, my dad can go back to doing my job. Or hire another accountant whenever he wants to retire.” She tried for a cheerful smile. “But enough about me. Let’s talk about your famous grandfather.”
“What about him?” Sam asked cautiously.
“I had no idea who Cyrus Byrd was until I watched that Good Morning, USA interview of yours. So I googled him. He was quite a character. It must be awesome being his grandson.” When Sam didn’t say anything, she continued. “I also did a little internet snooping on Big B Gas and Oil, and it’s not just your typical oil company. You’re doing more than just token funding for research on alternative energy sources, and your employees have one of the best compensation packets in the corporate world.”
Sam snorted. “Old Cyrus would roll in his grave if he knew we were giving stock options to everyone from middle management down to the janitor.”
“If he didn’t institute those policies, then who did? You?”
“I wish I could take credit for it, but that was one hundred percent my dad.” Annie didn’t miss the pride in his voice.
“Sounds like he made it a great place to work.”
“It is.”
“But you still want to run the ranch.”
He shrugged. “It’s complicated.”
“How so?”
“My dad married into the business, but he’s the one who made Big B Oil what it is today. He gave his heart and soul to that company so that his family could inherit something of real value.”
It wasn’t hard for her to put two and two together. “And if you were to quit, what? You would be desecrating your dad’s memory?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, but I get it. Esposito’s Used Cars isn’t Big B Oil. It’s just a small-town family-run business. If Frank Jr. were to walk away from it, my dad would definitely be hurt. But if his heart wasn’t it, my dad would understand. I bet yours would have too.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to face her. “I’ve made a decision. I’m buying the car.”
His sudden change of topic caught her off guard. “Just like that?”
“It drives like a dream. Plus, it’s got less than ten thousand miles on it, and I’m getting a certified warranty.”
“Someone was paying attention.”
“I always pay attention around you,” he said quietly.
Yep. He was definitely flirting with her. He leaned in close enough that she could smell his aftershave, something clean and simple. Her heart was beating so fast, she could feel it pounding all the way up to her ears. For one wild and crazy second, it seemed as if he was going to kiss her.
Yes, please.
But … Hold on. She was practically a pre-engaged woman. She had no business kissing anyone until she ended things with Walter.
“So,” she said in an overly cheerful voice, hoping to quell the mounting physical tension between them, “Becks is a lucky girl to have such a thoughtful big brother. Don’t let Kelly Seacrest find out, or she might nominate you for canonization.” He met her snarky comment with an amused shake of his head, but the disappointment in his eyes told her that her instincts hadn’t been wrong. He’d wanted to kiss her.
“Is it Beck’s birthday?” she asked, trying to keep the conversation light. Otherwise, she’d be too tempted to forget about Walter and just go for it.
“Nope.”
“So it’s a random gift?”
“Sure, you can call it that.”
A warning bell went off in her head. “Please don’t tell me the car is a bribe.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“She goes to college and, as a reward, she gets a car?”
“I got a car when I went to college. Why shouldn’t she get one too?”
“What if she decides not to go to college in the fall and do the gap year instead? Does she still get the car?”
“What does she need a car for if she’s backpacking through Europe?”
Oh boy. She didn’t know Becks, but from what little Sam had told her about his sister, Annie didn’t think Becks would appreciate this sort of quid pro quo.
“Look, for what it’s worth, I think you’re making a mistake here. If your sister really doesn’t want to go to college right now, then you’re just setting her up to fail.”
“
You’re right. You’re a terrible salesperson.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve taken up too much of your time. So, what’s it going to be? Are you going to sell me the car or not?”
Yep, she’d definitely crossed the line.
But despite his sudden testiness, she liked Sam, and she didn’t want to see him do something he’d later regret. On the other hand, like his tone implied, it was none of her business.
“Of course I’ll sell you the car, but I think I’ll let my brother handle the details.”
“Fine by me.”
12
Bootleg Pete’s was located beachside between Old Explorer’s Bay and St. Augustine. Crammed wall-to-wall with a rowdy clientele, the Prohibition-era-themed bar featured drinks with names like The Mary Pickford, The Last Word, and Annie’s new personal favorite, The Bee’s Knees. The drink lived up to its name. She was on her second one and definitely buzzing. “Why haven’t I ever come out to Girls’ Night before?” she asked the four other women sitting around the table.
A middle-aged woman singing the seventies Gloria Gaynor hit “I Will Survive” went off key, making them all squint. The rest of the bar howled with laughter and applause.
Emboldened by her third Gin Rickey, Sophie answered, “Because Walter didn’t approve?”
Annie hated to admit it, but Sophie wasn’t entirely wrong. Walter had never spoken out against Girls’ Night, but Annie knew he’d find a night out gossiping, drinking, and singing bad karaoke to be a frivolous waste of time. “Speaking of Walter,” Annie said, raising her voice to be heard above the music, “I’m breaking up with him.”
Her companions let out a squeal of approval. Yikes. Was she the last person in town to realize that she and Walter weren’t a good fit?
“It’s about time,” said Reggie Cooper, whose first name was Regina, but no one except her grandmother called her that. Reggie was Charlotte’s daughter and wrote for a well-known lifestyle blog called Fabulous You.
Reggie’s best friend, Coco Phillips, a vivacious blonde whose good looks had always intimidated Annie, leaned forward in her seat. “What brought this on? I mean, why break up with Walter now?”
Annie played with her drink straw, reluctant to tell them the whole story. “Like Reggie said, it’s time.”
“But something must have sped things along,” said Zoe Parrish. Besides being Millie’s niece, she taught English at the local high school.
“Forget about Walter.” Sophie gave Annie a probing look. “Tell me about this guy at the diner who was choking.”
Reggie put down her drink. “Somebody at The Miramar Café was choking? Is he all right?”
“His name is Roy, and he’s fine. Better than fine, really,” Sophie added lustfully. She filled them in on the rest of the story. At least, the part she was aware of.
“That was nice of Walter to try and do the Heimlich,” Coco mused. “Especially on a complete stranger.”
“True,” Sophie said. “But I’m more interested in learning about this Roy character. The guy is one hundred percent prime grade A beef. I got to put my stethoscope over his chest, and let’s just say I don’t think he misses a workout.”
Zoe tsked in mock disapproval. “Sophia Esposito, what century are you living in? That’s politically incorrect. You wouldn’t want a man to refer to you as a piece of meat, would you?”
Sophie’s eyes wandered over to the long wooden bar, where Pete, the establishment’s owner, mixed drinks while he chatted up the customers. Annie couldn’t help but follow Sophie’s gaze. Dressed in a black button-down shirt, red bow tie, and suspenders, Pete looked like he could have walked off the set of a roaring twenties film. His slicked-back brown hair, cleanly shaven jaw line and easy smile added to his boy-next-door charm, but beneath that veneer was a man with a serious reputation with the ladies. Not that Annie knew anything about that firsthand, but she’d heard the rumors. “I wouldn’t mind that man thinking I was a piece of meat,” said Sophie.
“Frank Jr. just sold Pete a minivan,” Annie said. “Great credit, but he preferred to pay in cash.”
Zoe nearly swallowed an ice cube. “Mr. Hottie Bartender drives a minivan?”
Annie shrugged. “Why not? He said it was to haul around supplies.”
Coco sniffed. “Well, he might be fiscally responsible and nice to look at, but he’s a big jerk.”
“If you say so,” Sophie muttered.
Coco and Reggie gave each other a knowing look that piqued Annie’s curiosity, but before she could ask Coco to explain, Sophie pounded her fist on the table, startling them all into attention. “Okay, Annie, now spill. Tell us everything you know about Roy Rogers.”
“Roy Rogers?” Zoe giggled. “Like the cowboy? That’s his name?”
It looked as if there was no way around it. Sophie and her friends were going to insist on the real story. “Off the record?” Annie asked, looking specifically at Reggie, because the last thing she wanted was for Sam to get even more unwanted publicity, and this was just the sort of story Fabulous You would love to feature.
“Why?” Reggie’s dark eyes perked up. “Is there a juicy story behind this?”
Annie made some serious eye contact with the other women. “You have to promise not to tell anyone.”
“The only other people any of us would tell are all sitting at this table,” said Sophie. “So spill, already.”
Sophie had a point. “Okay, so, you know that show Single Gal?”
Before Annie could continue, Sophie shrieked, “I knew it! He’s Gas Station Sam! I thought I recognized him. But why would Connie say his name was Roy?”
“Because he made it up. He’s here to get away from the press. They’ve been hounding him nonstop ever since he was on the show, so he used an alias.”
“My aunt Millie is gaga over him,” said Zoe.
Reggie snickered. “So is my mom. Not that I blame her.”
“I was with them when we all watched the episode.”
“That appearance he made on Good Morning, USA didn’t help his anonymity any,” said Coco. “Diane, the receptionist at work? She wants to quit her job and move to Dallas to find him.”
“It’s like all the women in America have been on the Keto diet and he’s a loaf of bread fresh out of the oven,” said Zoe, causing the other women to laugh.
All except Annie. A sharp twinge of something that felt like jealousy hit her straight in the chest. That was twice now that she’d experienced it. Last night at the diner and now. She needed to get a grip here.
“First meat, now bread. All this talk of food is making me hungry. I think we need another round of nachos.” Zoe put her hand up and waved, getting Pete’s attention. “More nachos, please!”
The handsome bartender acknowledged her, then signaled to a server.
“I don’t know why you think Pete’s a jerk,” Sophie said to Coco. “He’s always been perfectly nice to me.”
“Forget about Pete,” said Reggie. “I want Annie to tell us more about Gas Station Sam.”
She took a deep breath. For courage. “I invited him here tonight,” she said making a face.
“Gas Station Sam is coming here? To Bootleg Pete’s?” Coco chortled with glee. “Wait until Diane gets a load of this.”
“No! You promised. You can’t tell anyone.”
“Not even after the fact?”
“Not even after,” Annie said firmly. “Although he probably won’t show up.” Yesterday, after they’d returned to the dealership, Frank Jr. had sealed the deal and sold Sam the convertible. Sam had been polite when he’d stopped by Annie’s office on his way out to tell her goodbye, but there had been a lingering frostiness in the air that had told her he still wasn’t over their earlier disagreement about his sister. If Sam didn’t show up tonight, then that brief encounter in her office would be the last time she’d ever see him. She swallowed back the rest of her drink. Why did she find that so miserably depressing?
Zoe smiled knowingly. “No wonder you want to b
reak up with Walter.”
“Sam isn’t the reason I’m breaking up with Walter. Not exactly. He’s more like the catalyst.” She went on to tell them about the letter she’d written to Sam and how it had helped her get in touch with her feelings.
“And you never mailed the letter?” Sophie asked.
“No! I’d die if I thought he’d read that letter. I bared my soul to that man. I even told him all about Russell. Of course, thanks to Rudy Garcia, he found out about it anyway.”
Zoe placed a comforting hand on Annie’s shoulder. “No one in town feels sorry for you, Annie. Well, maybe there’s a few people like Rudy who won’t let it go, but you’re doing the right thing breaking up with Walter. Don’t marry someone you’re not crazy in love with.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird that of all the places Sam DeLuca could go to get away from the press, he ends up here?” Zoe mused. “Why Old Explorer’s Bay?”
“Why not here?” said Reggie. “Think about it. This town is about as dead as the roach I squished in the parking lot on my way in tonight.”
“True,” said Zoe, frowning. “Still, it feels like more than just a coincidence. You see him on TV, write him this soul-baring letter and then he just pops up at The Miramar Café while you and Walter are in the middle of your regularly scheduled Tuesday-night dinner.”
“It’s fate,” said Sophie.
“Yeah,” said Coco. “What else could it be?”
Annie shifted in her seat. Despite the other women’s objections, Zoe had a point. Sam’s showing up in town did feel uncomfortably ironic. She thought back to the day she’d written the letter. She’d crumpled it and tossed it into the trash, but … No. There was no way he could have gotten ahold of it. It was the alcohol fuzzing her brain. Maybe she shouldn’t have had that second Bee’s Knees. The woman who had been singing Gloria Gaynor earlier was back on the karaoke stage. This time she was butchering the Patsy Cline version of “Your Cheatin’ Heart.”
Sophie grabbed Annie’s arm, startling not just her but the whole table. “Sweet baby Jesus. Guess who just walked in the door?”
Annie craned her neck to get a look. It was Sam, looking completely delicious in a white button-down shirt and jeans. Their gazes locked. He hesitated a second, then began making his way straight toward her.
