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Footsteps sounded below.
“Hello?” she called over toward the trapdoor, her silly, overoptimistic heart hoping it was Jonas, while at the same time she scolded herself for being ridiculous. After that strained horrible weekend together she’d be surprised if he ever wanted to see her again.
Julie had sure been right! Unlocking the truth about Allie’s past had set a whole lot of stuff in motion that was making her really, really happy! Which was why she’d cried herself to sleep the previous night.
Come to think of it, she hoped it wasn’t Jonas. She looked like a puffy-eyed clown.
“Hey, girlfriend.”
“Sandra!” She was desperately happy to hear Sandra’s voice, feeling suddenly as if she was stuck in a snowbank and Sandra had a keg of rum around her neck.
“What’s going on?” Sandra’s beautiful face and shoulders appeared through the hole in the floor, followed by the rest of her. Even in jeans and a simple blue striped top, she looked exotic and glamorous. Immediately Allie could tell something was different about her, but couldn’t figure out what. “Oh, you’re packing up! What did you decide to do?”
“Nothing for a while.” She shrugged dismissively. “I had thoughts about starting my own business designing clothes.”
“You should! If your designs look anything like these clothes you’ll be huge.”
“Thanks.” Allie smiled, wondering how Sandra could have that much confidence in her when she’d never seen anything Allie had designed. More confidence than Allie had in herself. She gestured impulsively to one of Bridget’s trunks. “Listen, I was going to offer anyway, but didn’t know you’d be here before I left. Would you like some of the gowns for your shows?”
“Oh, you are a sweetheart. Thank you.” Sandra’s eyes brightened. “Tell you what, you start your shop and I’ll be your first and best customer.”
Allie nodded her thanks, making a mental note to send her that blue gown she’d looked so spectacular in. “I wasn’t expecting you up today. Is Erik here, too?”
“He’s coming tomorrow. I just couldn’t wait to hang out here. It’s so fabulous, isn’t it?” She touched Allie’s shoulder. “You staying the week?”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. No way could she stay among so many memories of her days and nights with Jonas. It was time to go back to New York and start fresh. Learn from her mistakes with him and do better going forward. Wasn’t that what dating was about? Finding who was right, who was wrong, what kind of partner you were and what kind of partner you needed.
It was just that at twenty-eight, she was obviously a slow learner. And Jonas had seemed so promising...
Maybe there was still hope, still issues they could work out together. Except they’d always come up against the geographical distance. And his money would always be an issue. Allie hadn’t realized how much work she still had to do to come to terms with her father’s desertion of the family for a better life. It would be easier to date someone who didn’t represent everything she always felt she wasn’t.
“You’re staying at least tonight, though?”
“Actually, I was planning to catch a bus in a couple of hours.” The second she spoke she realized she’d much rather hang out there with Sandra.
“Nonsense. I’m here now. I brought us dinner. There is enough alcohol in this house to float the U.S. Navy, and I think we should put a dent in it. You with me?”
Allie wiped her dusty hands on her jeans, smiling. She’d just figured out what was different about Sandra. She looked happy. Really happy. Sparkles-shooting-out-of-her happy.
Erik. Things must be going well for them.
“You’re on. Let me shower off the grime and I’ll join you. On the beach?”
Sandra shuddered. “I don’t do bugs. In the nice screened-in porch, maybe.”
“See you in ten.”
She showered and threw on tight pink shorts and an outrageously busy floral top, feeling much more human. Sandra was the kind of woman who could listen and offer advice. She’d grown up poor, and seemed to be doing fine with Erik. Plus she knew Jonas.
Downstairs, out on the porch, Sandra was spreading one of the painted white tables with a picnic of chicken wings, pasta salad, marinated broccoli, peaches and miniature cupcakes in various flavors.
“Yum. That looks fabulous.”
“You think that looks fabulous, look at this.” She held up a bottle of champagne. “Taittinger Comtes de Champagne, 1995. This stuff goes for beaucoup bucks, baby. We are so having it.”
“Do you think we should?” Allie was more surprised that Sandra knew the bottle was a good one—even the year?—than that she was suggesting they drink it.
