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Another chirp from her phone reminded her she’d been in the middle of a conversation with her son, and she hastily pulled her phone out so she could distract herself from this new development in her life.
The following morning,Bea opened the door to check next door, hoping to see Grant rushing across the half-dry grass toward her.In her dreams, he’d brought two coffees, one for her, with him, as well as his smile, and a declaration of how amazing she looked that morning.
She’d used a barrette to clip her hair to itself on the right side, a look she’d seen online yesterday afternoon while she should’ve been checking out the sites Grant had listed for her.
He wasn’t coming, and a quick glance to the driveway in front of the bungalow confirmed that he’d moved his car.Of course he’d moved the car.They’d gone to dinner last night, and Bea had been safely returned to this bungalow, regretting the fact that she had to release Grant’s hand after such an amazing day.
She’d consoled herself with the promise of today—another entire day spent with Grant—and several spoonfuls of mint chocolate chip ice cream.She’d been up late enough to get all the texts from her friends back home, but all she’d done was send them one of the pictures of her flying the phoenix on the beach.
There had been much speculation about who had taken that picture of her, but Bea hadn’t confirmed or denied anything.She didn’t want to include five other women in her relationship with Grant, but her friendswereimportant to her.They’d stood at her side through thick and thin, and she’d done her best to do the same for them.
Before Grant could come outside and see her waiting for him, she ducked back into the bungalow and almost closed the door.She left it open a couple of inches and decided to text him.How’s it going at the cottage?Will the air conditioning be donetoday?
He hadn’t heard from Clinton before their date last night, during it, or after.He’d told her he’d call that morning or head over to the cottage and get it worked out.Because his car didn’t sit in front of his house or the bungalow, she had to assume he’d gone to the cottage to do just that.
He didn’t answer, and their departure time to go see where the steam-powered cannon had been housed on the island came and went.Irritation built beneath Bea’s tongue, and she was just about to call Grant when he called her.
“Hey,” she said, a bit more snap to her voice than she intended.
“Hey,” he said, clearly rushed and distracted at the same time.“I’m so sorry, Bea, but I can’t go to the cannon with you this morning.”
“Oh, no,” she said.“Why not?”
He sounded like he was jogging, but when Bea cocked her head to try to listen harder, all sound on his end of the line went silent.Her mind screamed at her, because her husband—ex-husband—had silenced his end of their phone calls when his mistress had been in the room with him.He’d always had to stay at work for something, or go into work early, or cancel their lunches because this huge client had something he had to get done.
“I forgot I had four arrivals today,” he said, only his voice entering her ears.“Two of my housekeeping staff are out, and I have to get a couple of places ready by three o’clock.”
“Oh.”
“I can still do the beach bonfire tonight.”
Bea didn’t know how to reason past the sting in her chest.She hated feeling this way, and the emotions inside her quickly spiraled as if she was finding out Nort was cheating on her—and had been for over a year—all over again.
“Bea,” Grant said, just the right amount of sorrow in his voice.Such a perfect amount that Bea couldn’t stand to be on this call for another second.She wasnotgoing to be lied to, hoodwinked, and made a fool of again.
Oh, no, she was not.
