by JB Salsbury
“Enjoy giving me heart attacks?” There’s a smile in his voice, and the sound is so familiar, it makes me long for the old days.
But those are long gone.
Along with the girl who lived them.
“What do you want, Jack?”
He clears his throat, all vestige of humor gone. “I’m going to be in town again this weekend and I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner.”
“I can’t this weekend, I’m sorry.”
“How about the following weekend?”
“No, I’m busy.
“The weekend after that?”
“Can’t.”
“Hmm… why do I get the sense you’re lying to me, Sadie girl?”
I suck in a quick breath at the sound of my old nickname and feel my resolve weaken. “And you’re being totally honest with me?”
He doesn’t answer right away.
“You expect me to believe you’ll be in San Diego every weekend for the next three weeks?”
“All right, fine, you got me. I do need to go back for work, but the weekend is flexible, so I’ll go back whenever you’re free for dinner.”
“I work the next two weekends and I’ll be out of town the weekend after that.”
“Oh yeah?” I expect him to ask where, but he surprises me by not asking. “Breakfast then. This Saturday. I’ll pick you up at nine.”
“Jack, I don’t—”
“Eat? I know you do. I also know you’ve never been able to turn down French toast.”
I sigh because dammit, he’s right.
“I’ll see you on Saturday. And Sadie?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for picking up.”
Chapter Ten
Jack
“Flowers?”
I look from Sadie’s scrunched up face to the two dozen purple tulips wrapped in yellow tissue paper in my hand. “Huh, is that what these are?” I shrug and offer them to her again. “I thought they were Slim Jims.”
Exasperated, she tilts her head and props a shoulder on the frame of her front door. “This isn’t a date.”
“Oh wow, okay. So a guy brings a girl a couple dozen Slim Jims and suddenly it’s a date.” She doesn’t laugh at my lame attempt at a joke. “They’re not lilies.”
“Ah, so you do remember.”
I feel the corner of my mouth pull into a grin. “How could I forget?”
She studies me through narrow eyes. Her gaze bounces between me and the bouquet. “You realize spending money on flowers is pointless, right? They just die.”
A woman who doesn’t like getting flowers from a man. She always did respond better when I brought her cherry Blow Pops, her favorite candy, but I figured she’d matured beyond sweet treats.
I pull back my offered flowers and find an elderly man walking his dog. “Excuse me!” I jog up to him and hand him the bouquet.
His eyes light up behind thick glasses while his little dog yaps at my ankles. “What’s this?”
“It’s random act of kindness day,” I say and wave goodbye as he walks off with a smile tucked into his flowers. I turn back to Sadie, who’s failing to hide her smile. “I hope he likes processed meat products.” I flash my empty hands. “There. Can we go to breakfast? I’m starving.”
She shakes her head, but she’s smiling, so I’ll take that as a win. “Come on in, I need to grab my shoes.”
I follow her inside, feeling maybe I should’ve been more specific about this morning’s breakfast. I assumed she’d know I was asking her out on a date, but she’s dressed in a pair of cut-off shorts and a baggy tank top that shows a lot of bra. Sadly it’s not some colorful lacey number, but a plain ol’ white sports bra. Her hair is in two braids with small paint spatters scattered throughout. Her feet are bare.
I’m no expert on dating—the few real dates I’ve been on have been for work events—but I think for most dates, women get dressed up and eagerly answer the door, ready to go. Sadie looks like she wasn’t sure I was going to show, so she decided to clean the house instead. And even still, her beauty is staggering.
When she heads upstairs, she doesn’t tell me to wait, so I follow her up to the loft. She disappears behind a large easel with a big canvas on it, but I’m unable to see the painting because it’s covered by a tarp. I look around the space and see several canvases covered similarly. In the corner, under the small, single window, is a twin mattress with a gray comforter that looks like a Walmart buy. The surfboard I recognize from Dawn’s photos is propped against the wall and looks as if it hasn’t been used in a while.
“I would’ve accepted the flowers,” she says as she slips on a pair of purple Vans.
I drag my eyes away from her luscious tan legs and make a slow walk around the room. “This is where the magic happens, huh?” I peek under a tarp only to have Sadie knock my hand away.
“They’re a secret. No peeking.”
“Ouch.” I shake out the fake sting from her hit.
She smiles sweetly. “I’m sorry. These are for the exhibition.”
“Fair enough.” I continue to walk around, taking in her room, but I don’t try to touch any more. There are multiple canvases of different sizes leaning against the wall, but all of them are facing in so I can’t see what’s on them. The space is more like an open attic. No doors to hide her secrets, yet she does it so well.
“Let’s go.”
I follow her back down the stairs. “Where’s your roomie?”
“Out.” She snags her keys and phone, and once out the door, she locks it behind us.
“I’m over there.” I start toward my rental when I hear Sadie’s sneakers stop on the sidewalk. I turn around, and she’s staring at the car with her mouth open. “What?”
“A convertible Mercedes?” Her pretty blue-green eyes narrow. “Don’t you think that’s a little over the top?”
I click the key fob, unarming and unlocking the doors. “I’ve got people to impress.” Specifically, one person to impress. I open the passenger side door and motion for her to climb in.
“I hope it worked on your clients,” she says as she climbs inside.
I frown at her implication that it’s not working on her. Standing on a quaint Hillcrest sidewalk, I feel like a complete douchebag. Sadie has lived with money her entire life, but has never been impressed by it. I should’ve shown up in a minivan or a Prius. She would’ve respected me for either of those.
Circling the car that now feels more like a disgusting dick pic than it does a European automotive masterpiece, I paste on what I hope to be a charming smile and fire up the engine. “I hope you’re hungry.”
She props a pair of cat-eye sunglasses on her perky nose. “I’m always hungry.”
With the roar of wind whipping around our heads, it’s difficult to hold a conversation, another thing I’m kicking myself in the ass for. I had to get the convertible. Luckily, the horsepower and my eager gas pedal foot get us to La Jolla in record time. I find a parking spot near the restaurant and hurry around the car to open Sadie’s door.
She’s already out by the time I get there. I try not to pout. She never took issue with me opening doors for her before. Then again, we were together back then. I feel as if she’s doing everything she can to ensure I know this outing is not a romantic one.
“La Jolla.” She tilts her head back and takes in the strip of upper class storefronts. “Fancy.”
I open my mouth to defend my choice then slam it shut because goddammit, I did it again!
I shove my hands in my pockets, acting casual. “What? I like it here. And according to Yelp, this place has the best French toast in town.”
That’s a lie. They have French toast, but I mainly picked the location to impress her.
She sweeps a hand in front of her. “Lead the way.”
I head upstairs to a rooftop deck that overlooks the Pacific Ocean and tell the hostess my name. “Reservation for two.”
“Of course, Mr. Daniels. Follow me.”
Sadie
I glare at our hostess through my sunglasses as she shamelessly flirts with Jack on our walk across the patio to our table. I tell myself I can’t be annoyed because, A. this isn’t a date, B. Jack is kind of flirting back, and C. the pretty hostess is probably someone who would be impressed by Jack’s expensive white linen shirt, Sperry Top siders, overpriced car, and foo-foo breakfast place. Who am I to get in the way of two people who seem to speak the same love language?
I catch myself grinding my teeth and force myself to relax and take in the view. The landscape is breathtaking. The cloudless morning sky gives way to sun that reflects off the choppy sea. The toe of my sneaker catches on a chair leg, earning me a nasty look from a beautiful older woman dripping in diamonds.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
Her gaze moves up my paint-splattered legs to my ripped denim shorts, tank top, and finally my two braids. She sneers.
“Your table.” The beautiful hostess, who looks like a young Lucy Liu with much bigger boobs, sets down our menus. She speaks directly to Jack as if I’m not here. “Your server will be right with you.”
“Gorgeous,” Jack says, swinging his gaze from the view to the hostess.
She blushes as if his response had a double meaning.
I chuckle as I take my seat.
“What’s so funny?” Jack shakes out his linen napkin and lays it across his lap with that charming smile he was born with smeared across his face.
“Nice place.” I take in my surroundings, realizing we got the best seat in the house—right on the corner.
He leans forward, elbows on the table. “You’re unhappy.”
“I am not.” I grab my menu and use it to cover most of my face. “Apple cinnamon, death by chocolate, tres leches? Don’t they have regular old French toast?”
Jack clears his throat, shifts in his seat, and studies his menu.
I guess I could order the apple and have them hold the apples. Even the juices are insane—dragon fruit juice? What the hell is that?
The sound of Jack’s heavy menu hitting his plate calls my eyes to his. His grin morphs into laughter, and I watch him dissolve into manly giggles.
“I’m sorry.” He takes a few gulps of water in what looks like an attempt to stop laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
Another roll of his laughter gets scowls from nearby tables. I don’t know why he’s laughing, but the sound is contagious and I find myself grinning.
“This.” He motions to our surroundings. “I should’ve known better.”
A flicker of anger tweaks behind my ribs. Is he implying that my presence in a place like this is laughable? “Known better what?”
“It’s breakfast!” He’s still chuckling. “I’m sorry, Sadie. I was trying to impress you. I feel ridiculous.”
“Don’t.” I smile with him and wave off his concerns. “The view is really breathtaking and I’m hungry, so I’ll find something on the menu to eat.”
The waiter takes our order. I get the appleless French toast and Jack orders a twenty-two-dollar omelet. It’s ham and eggs!
“So tell me, what have I missed?”
My eyes dart to his. “What do you mean?”
“What have you been up to since… since we…”
“School mostly. Work.”
“What do you do for fun?”
“Same stuff I’ve always done, I guess.”
His brows pinch together. “Like what?”
“To be honest, I haven’t had a lot of time for entertainment.”
He tilts his head, studying me. “Why’d you stop surfing?”
“Too busy. So what about you? How is New York treating you?” Seamless subject change, thank God.
“Busy.” He doesn’t take his eyes off mine, and I wonder if he can see through my sunglasses or if he’s imagining he can. Either way, I feel his penetrating gaze. “Time slipped away on me. I’ve been caught up in the rat race.”
“Sounds awful.”
“Yeah,” he says without hesitation.
The busboy breaks the tension by filling our water glasses. The hostess passes by and flashes a not-so-secret smile to Jack. He smiles back, but it’s tight and a little awkward.
“She’s pretty.”
His eyes narrow. “And?”
I lean back in my chair. “I think she could be your type.”
He shifts in his seat, scratches his eyebrow, and chuckles. “What makes you think that?” There is no humor in his voice. He even sounds a little irritated.
“You seem like the type of guy who would fall for someone like her.”
“Then you don’t know me that well. Because I’m the kind of guy who fell for someone like you.”
My face heats and we get locked in a staring battle until I concede, look away, and see our plates arrive. A long, rectangular plate is set in front of me with four miniature pieces of toast, swirly syrup and powdered sugar art all around them. Jack’s plate isn’t much different. There can’t be more than one egg in that omelet.
I pick up my fork and stab one square before smearing it in the decorations. The flavor is… typical. Nothing special. I finish after five bites and my stomach hardly registers it’s been fed.
Jack pushes his food around the plate as if moving it will reveal its other half. He finishes quickly and sets down his silverware. “That was… pretty good.”
“Mine was good.” I could’ve eaten ten more.
He scrunches up his face. “I’m still hungry.”
“Me too.” I laugh.
He tosses his napkin onto his plate. “I give. I clearly failed miserably. This is your town, so why don’t you take us to breakfast, or hell”—he checks his watch—“lunch?”
I should say no. Spending this much time with Jack can’t be good for either of us. It took me years to get over him, and it wouldn’t be fair to trick my heart into thinking he might be back.
But I am pretty hungry.
“You pick, I buy,” he says.
“Can’t resist that.”
He tosses a few bills on the table and stands. “Let’s get out of here.”
Jack
“Oh God, I ate too much.” Sadie groans and grips her stomach.
“You only ate half a burrito.” I ate mine and her other half. Way fucking better than that wimpy omelet.
“Did you see the size of it though?”
I smirk. “That’s what she said.”
She bursts into laughter and throws a wad of napkins at my chest. “You’re turning into your dad.”
“Why, thank you.” I mock bow as she rolls her eyes. “But yes, I did see the size of it. It was huge. I don’t know how you fit all that in your mouth.” I can’t stop smiling.
“You’re the worst!” She laughs and throws an extra salsa cup at me.
“And you swallowed!”
She bursts out laughing and throws another salsa at me. “Shut up, you’re so gross.” She’s still laughing. I’m grateful this restaurant is inside because her sunglasses are on her head and I can see her eyes. Maybe it’s the breakfast burrito that has lulled her, or maybe it’s the low-key surf shack décor, but whatever it is, I’m grateful to see her finally relaxed around me. “Now this is the Jack I remember.”
I hold out my hands. “Hey, it’s always been me.”
“Agree to disagree,” she says as she gathers our trash to take to the garbage.
“Is that why you wouldn’t answer my calls?” I say to her back as she’s shoving dirty napkins and burrito papers into the can.
Her shoulders rise and fall once before she turns around to face me. “I don’t have it in me to discuss our history and everything we lost.”
“Lost?”
“You know what I mean.”
I cross to her and stand closer than I should, but I can’t avoid it anymore. I miss her. After being around her all morning, her laughter washing over me, her smile piercing through me, I need to be closer. “I don’t. We
had plans. Remember? Four years and—”
“You moved on.”
“I didn’t move on. I may have lost track for a bit, but I never moved on.”
She looks everywhere but at me. “I should go. I need to get ready for work.”
“Sadie—”
“What do you want? We can’t do this, okay? For a million different reasons, we don’t work. You live in New York, I’m here. You’re twenty-two-dollar omelets and expensive cars and flirty socialites who don’t walk around with paint splatter in their hair.”
Her words are a sucker punch to the gut—mostly because she’s right. Those are some of the things I’ve become because I could afford to. And I don’t have control over who flirts with me. So I latch on to the one thing I can protest. “We weren’t on a date. You made that abundantly clear. Why do you care if a hostess flirts with me? Or if I flirt back?”
She crosses her arms, shoves out her chin, and shrugs. Finally, a hint of the old Sadie surfaces, and this one I can read. “I don’t care. I was merely proving a point.”
I bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling. “Oh, you’ve proved it all right. You’re jealous.”
“I am not!” Her face flushes with color—either from anger or embarrassment at getting caught, I’m not sure.
“You are.” I step closer, and when she tries to retreat, her ass hits the trash can. I study her slender neck and watch her pulse race beneath her smooth skin. Her chest rises and falls a half second faster. “You still like me.”
“I don’t.” She sounds out of breath, gasping to catch air into her lungs.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Ask me if I care.”
“Oh, Sadie girl, you care.” I want to push a messy braid off her shoulder and run my fingertip along her collarbone, but I’ve finally made a breakthrough and don’t want to lose the headway. “I know things seem impossible between us, but I’m going to figure it out, because I’ve decided I want you back.”
Her shoulders stiffen and her lips press together and thin out. “You’ve decided? You don’t even know me anymore. I’m not the little girl you fell for who’ll sit around waiting while you run off and live your life.”
