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“Let me just grab my bag,” I say. I’m wearing a cover-up dress over my swimsuit, and I wonder, not for the first time, if I should have invited him. He might have a girlfriend, or he might be here out of pity. It’s hard to say, but I can’t help the excitement rising in me at seeing him at my front door.
I pick up the tote with the marine rescue’s logo on it, making sure I have sunscreen, a towel, and some basic snacks.
“Ready?” James asks.
“Yeah,” I say, although I’m not so sure.
He leads me outside, but instead of walking in the direction of the nearest beach, he goes up to a newer model Toyota sedan.
“Nice car,” I say, and he offers a hand. I pass him my bag, which he puts in the trunk. “You know, it’s only a couple miles. We could have walked.”
He shrugs. “It’s hot out. I figured this would be easier.
I don’t point out that it’s always hot. Instead, I climb into the passenger seat. He blasts the AC, and I wrap my arms around myself, unused to the cool temperatures when I’m not wearing my long-sleeved server shirts.
“Sorry,” he says, turning it down before putting the car in gear. He pulls out of my building’s parking lot, then says. “We have to grab Hector, and then we’ll be good to go.”
That must be why he wanted to drive. It’s a lot more convenient with so many people.
When we pull into a small suburb, I glance at the houses. None of them are particularly nice, some still damaged from the last hurricane, but they aren’t shabby, either. He pulls up in front of a pastel pink house, and Hector comes running out, carrying far too much stuff, most of it neon-colored. James laughs and opens the window, leaning out. “Are you bringing toys for the entire beach?”
Hector rolls his eyes. “Just pop the trunk, man!”
James does as he says, and Hector shoves everything in before hopping in the back seat. “This is a nice car,” he says. “How do you afford it as a dish boy?”
I was wondering that, too, but I was too embarrassed to ask. He just shrugs. “Got a good deal.” His ears turn bright red with embarrassment, and I recall how he tried to hide his watch from me after my comments. He obviously hates talking about money, and I suspect that it has something to do with his parents once again.
As a joke, I prod a finger into his shoulder. “Probably stolen,” I say. “My theory is that you’re secretly the heir to a major crime family, staking out the resort for a heist.”
Hector lets out a laugh, then adds, “Yeah, and I’m sure you think that the dish pit has a secret tunnel that leads directly to a safe full of gold and precious gems.”
James relaxes into an easy smile, then says, “You caught me, although I’m the one digging the tunnel. Go ahead and give me your wallets now.”
I shake my head, then pull my braid over my shoulder so I can play with the end of it. “You don’t want mine. I’m pretty sure taking my wallet would immediately put you into debt just by touching it.”
We keep joking until we reach the beach parking lot, and it takes a while to find somewhere to actually park. James turns the car off, and we all climb out.
***
James
“Wow, big shot crime boss can afford the paid parking,” Hector says. I hadn’t even noticed that the lot had a booth at the front, but I guess it’s not something I’ve ever had to think about before. Until I saw Alexis pale at the price of my meal the other day, I never considered the fact that even a few dollars can make or break a person.
“My treat,” I say. “We deserve something special.”
“Yeah, we do,” Alexis says, high-fiving Hector. She’s so much more relaxed than I’ve seen her at work, and I smile, picking things out of the trunk. Hector grabs his beach ball, boogie board, sand castle kit, umbrella, and folding chairs, his balancing act very near magical. Alexis reaches for her tote, but I secure it on my shoulder and give her a look, daring her to take it.
She shrugs, and we walk together toward the beach. When we get there, a woman I don’t recognize is waving us down. She’s older than all of us, in her mid-thirties while we’re all under twenty-five. Two young children run around, shooting each other with water guns, and Alexis heads that way.
“Hey, Tammy,” she says, and Hector starts setting up his station. There’s already one umbrella and several chairs, so he overlaps his umbrella with hers to make a massive shady spot. “This is James and Hector. They work with me at the restaurant.” Tammy’s expression flickers when she sees me, and, before I can wonder why, Alexis says, “Guys, this is Tammy. We worked together at the marine rescue last year.”
Something strains in my chest, a pain I wasn’t expecting. So this woman basically has Alexis’s dream job. The fact that they’re friends surprises me. For some reason, I assumed Alexis wouldn’t want anything to do with the place that fired her.
“Lexi,” one of the kids, no older than four, says, leaping at Alexis without warning.
She picks him up and ruffles his hair. “I know it’s been a while,” she says. “I missed you, too!”
Tammy says, “Both Colton and Sam have been asking about you nonstop. I’m glad we could finally get the chance to see you!”
