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Guilt twisted in my gut. If a developer or chain store snatched up the pub, the odds of them preserving the tiles were slim to none. I bit my thumbnail, hesitating, then I spoke up. "So, uh, when I spoke to the realtor, she said it's most likely a local chain store that'll buy the bar. Or a developer who'll turn it into apartments. Which means they, uh, probably won't keep the tiles."
I braced for disappointment or anger, but Cole just nodded, understanding tempering the sadness in his eyes. "I figured as much. But you know what? Bluehaven can handle a local chain. And apartments aren't the worst thing. Losing a retail space is a shame, but you can't win ’em all. Might even drum up more business for the area. It's not like Walmart or 7-Eleven’s moving in."
"Really? You're not upset?" I asked, surprised by his understanding reaction.
"You gotta do what's best for you, Elara. You've got big dreams, and you only get one shot at chasing them."
I couldn't help myself—I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my lips against his.
Cole's arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer. The taste of coffee and sweat mingled on our tongues. I could have kissed him forever.
Finally, breathless, we broke apart, still clinging to each other. "I'm going to miss you so much when I go," I whispered.
"I'll miss you too." Cole’s voice was husky with emotion. "But this is what we both want—for you to chase your dreams in New York."
"Thank you."
"Hey, we should celebrate uncovering these tiles. It's saved us time and money, after all. How about cocktails? New York isn't the only place that can mix a fancy drink."
I felt excitement bubbling up within me at the prospect of spending more time with Cole. "That sounds perfect."
"Great!" he replied, his smile infectious. "Let's make it like an actual date. Not accidentally bumping into each other at home. Not having dinner with the kids. Something for just me and you. Intentional."
"A date? It's a crazy idea, but it just might work."
"Here are the rules: no traveling to the venue together, no seeing each other beforehand. We pretend we're not neighbors. Deal?"
"Deal." We broke apart and shook hands. "What's the venue?"
"We're heading to the most exclusive members-only bar in town."
My mouth formed a shocked 'o'. "There's a members-only bar in Bluehaven Beach? And you're a member?"
"Fuck no," he grinned. "But Ida's diner does cocktails and that's about as elite and exclusive as you're gonna get."
"The diner it is!"
***
We agreed to meet at 7 p.m., then spent the rest of the workday barely speaking. I couldn’t help but sneak a few glances, and each time, I caught Cole sporting a goofy grin. I wondered if he was as giddy as I was about our upcoming date.
Around 3:30 p.m., he announced he was heading back and offered me a ride. I declined, claiming I wanted to finish the final coat. Truth be told, I was already done, but the idea of our date was so thrilling that I wanted to build anticipation by not seeing him for a few hours. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all. Cole seemed to catch my drift, flashing me a broad smile before departing.
I waited half an hour before walking home, savoring the sunshine. The main street really did look gorgeous today, and it felt like every time I walked down it I noticed another cute place I wanted to visit.
Back at the trailer park, I resisted the urge to peek at Cole's place, worried I might catch a glimpse of him through the window. It felt oddly like it would jinx our date. I took Anthony out to run around the beach, then I got ready to head out.
After jumping in the shower, I chose a pretty sky-blue A-line summer dress with a white trim and a cinched waist, paired with my now trademark white sandals. With a touch of makeup and a spritz of my signature jasmine perfume, I felt transformed. Despite my muscles aching from a day of painting, I looked fresh and ready for a night out.
My phone buzzed with a message from Cole.
I'm heading out now. Give it five minutes before following. Unless you're ready to go first?
I typed a heart emoji, then hastily deleted it, and replied telling him that he could go first.
"All right, Elara," I whispered to my reflection. "It's cocktail o'clock." Then, the phrase “cock o’clock” popped into my head, and I giggled like a kid who'd just said their first curse word.
Anthony looked at me like I’d gone bananas. “Sorry, boy,” I told him. “It’s kind of impossible to understand if you’re a dog. Or, in fact, a sane human being.”
