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Jessica and Whitney still lived in Blue Moon Bay and saw each other frequently. Sarah struggled with feeling like the third wheel or the one left out, but she had her busy job in the city as a consolation. Her friends understood her lack of availability.
“Wineglasses?” Jessica asked, taking a bottle of red from her oversize purse, followed by a box of cream-filled pastries from her bakery, Delicious Delicacies.
Sarah’s mouth watered, and she wasn’t sure which she craved more—the alcohol or the carbs. “I’ll see what we have. Save me something covered in chocolate,” she said, hurrying inside. She grabbed three of the largest glasses she could find, washed them quickly, and carried them outside.
Whitney had the bottle open already. “So, how bad is it?” she asked as she poured.
Should she mention her near-death experience? Probably best to keep the embarrassing story to herself. Her friends already had plenty of adventure stories with her as the leading role of klutz. She had spent years trying to rewrite that narrative, plus they would worry about her. Best to keep that story for another time.
“Bad,” she said simply. “And Wes Sharrun had the nerve to try to guilt me into renovating.” “Guilt” may be a strong word. He’d simply suggested she think about it. But she did feel guilty, and it was partly his fault.
Her friends exchanged looks.
“What?” she asked, biting into a chocolate pastry. The combination of cocoa and sugar made her eyes close as she savored the burst of flavor dancing on her tongue.
“Wes was here?” Whitney asked.
“A few hours ago.”
The two women stared at her as though waiting for her to elaborate.
“Well, how was seeing him again?” Jessica asked, tying her dark, wavy hair back from her face as the early-evening breeze off the ocean picked up.
Sarah waved a hand. “I see him all the time on Facebook. It was no different.”
Except that it was totally different. Her former crush was no longer a cute athlete who she’d tutored for two years and never had a chance with, given he and Kelly were the school’s famous couple. Now he was a hot-as-hell business owner, widower, and single dad. One who had encouraged her to invest a ton of her savings into restoring an old family property she wanted nothing to do with.
“That’s a lie,” Whitney said, sipping her wine.
“That was a schoolgirl crush I had on him years ago. And I’ve totally forgiven him for the incident that we’re never to discuss.” Maybe telling her friends what had happened that night years ago or her revenge fantasies since then was a bad idea.
“Okay, we’ll pretend to buy that,” Whitney said, kicking her feet free of her sandals and folding her long legs under her on the chair. At five foot nine and 120 pounds soaking wet, her blond bombshell of a best friend had missed her calling as a fashion model. Instead, she was head of marketing and tourism at the mayor’s office in town.
“So, what do you plan to do?” Jessica asked.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly.
“So many hotel chains have been after this amazing location for years; you could reach out to one of them,” Whitney said.
“Grandma always said no to their offers.”
“She loved this place,” Whitney said softly. “Even if keeping it wasn’t in her best interest.”
Sarah heard her friend’s unvoiced warning. Would she be repeating her grandmother’s mistake if she kept it and renovated in the hope of saving it?
“How was the funeral?” Jessica asked, changing the subject as she reached out to squeeze Sarah’s hand.
The comforting gesture was something she hadn’t realized she’d needed. The last few days had been busy with the funeral and will, and she really hadn’t had time to mourn the loss. “Nice. Private. The way Grandma would have wanted it.”
Her grandmother spent her life opening her door to strangers, but her heart had been reserved for family. She always knew everything about everyone within minutes of meeting them. People loved to open up to Dove, but the older woman had always kept her own secrets close to her chest.
“Everyone’s gone already?” Jessica asked.
Sarah nodded. “We did manage to get a family photo before they left, though.” Unlocking her cell phone screen with her thumbprint, she flicked to the photo and handed the phone to Jessica.
“Aww…this is a nice one,” she said, tilting the phone so Whitney could see. She squinted, peering closer. “Who’s the guy in the background?”
Whitney dragged her finger and thumb across the screen to enlarge the view of the beach. “Isn’t that the old guy who lives down near south pier? He’s always out there on the beach with his metal detector. I’ve never seen him around here before, though.”
