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“No killer anything today, please. I’d be happy with just a small injury of regular coffee if you don’t mind. Bastien remembered his body’s involuntary response upon learning the origin of Cricket’s “secret brew.” That would have been a tough visual to crush, but for Charlotte bursting through the door laden with what looked like sample books, fabric swatches, papers, and a briefcase.
“He’s over here, darling,” shouted Cricket with a full-arm wave as if guiding a yacht to its berth. “I put you guys in the confessional.” So much for privacy, Bastien thought, although while anyone and everyone now knew they were there, it would be difficult for anyone to overhear their conversation. He guessed that was best because he didn’t know exactly what she wanted to discuss so urgently.
Charlotte had said she was stopping at Because You Said Yes on the way to salvage what she could of some of her catalogs and stationery before the cleaning crew unceremoniously conveyed them to the dumpsters in front of the store with everything else. The cleaning crew had arrived as if on a mission from God to remove any and every “stain” in their path, no matter how small the transgression. Anyone else would have looked harried and disheveled, but as always, Charlotte appeared as if she had just walked off a page ofSouthern Belle, with her demeanor just as buttoned up. “Hello, Bastien. I’m so sorry I’m late. It’s been quite a morning.” She let everything in her arms fall to the middle of the table.
“Can I help you with that?” offered Bastien.
“No, thank you. I need just a minute to get organized.” Anyone taking in the scene would have guessed he was her next client, he thought. That could be a good thing.
Cricket laid down a menu and a glass of water on the table by the window, not close to, but within view of, “the confessional.” “What's your pleasure?” she asked the man sitting there. “You look like a sculpture, honey,” Bastien overheard her say. “Those baby blues are the same color as your t-shirt. Pretty as a cloudless sky!”
The stranger smiled. “I'd love a coffee, black, please. That’s all.”
“Ooh, I’ve got just the thing for you. I call it my out-of-towner brew. Wanna try some?”
“How can I resist? I couldn’t help noticing the mess across the street. Fire?”
“Oh, no. A pipe burst and flooded not only the candle shop, but my friend’s new wedding planning business next door,” Cricket offered. “It’s a shame. She just opened and everything is ruined.”
While Charlotte was singularly focused on organizing her haphazard cargo into manageable piles, Bastien’s ears perked as he, and anyone within a country mile, heard Cricket talking about Charlotte’s store with the man. To Bastien, he looked out of place in the breezy beach town of Willow Bay, but Bastien could recognize a city guy anywhere. They tried hard to look relaxed, but the manicures, designer T-shirts, posh haircuts and a slightly condescending air when confronted with people who had chosen less complicated lives were dead giveaways.
“That is a shame. Is Willow Bay popular for destination weddings?”
“I guess it could be. Is that what brings you here?” Cricket laughed. Bastien wondered if she was trying to figure out whether the guy was eligible for a good time or not. “You know, we haven’t had many real ‘lookers’ in town since summer ended.”
“I’m just passing through. Thought a couple of days near the water would be a nice break before my next stop.”
“What is it you do?” Cricket asked. Her interrogation skills weren’t subtle, but that seemed to be Cricket. Looking at her red high-top sneakers and T-shirt with red sequins that read Eat Me, there was nothing subtle about the diner owner.
On their first encounter, Cricket was not shy about asking for details from anyone, especially someone who could be the object of some shameless, and he assessed harmless, flirtation. Something about her jovial and unassuming manner was disarming, and he imagined it made people reveal their secrets as if speaking to an old friend.
“I’m a loss prevention consultant. I help business owners deal with insurance companies before and after a catastrophic event.”
“Oh, my God. I should put you in touch with Charlotte! She’s lost everything, and it seems like her insurance company is moving slowly.”
“Is Charlotte the wedding planner? I’d be happy to meet her if you think it would be helpful. Her situation doesn’t look complicated.”
Charlotte turned briefly, hearing her name, but she turned back to Bastien as if he was all that mattered in the moment. Despite the disaster that awaited her at the shop, she seemed singularly focused on him, but he imagined it was the big paycheck he offered that kept her tuned in. When Cricket mentioned the insurance, Charlotte gave Cricket and the stranger a polite look that said,I see you, and I’ll deal with you later, but not right now.
“Good morning, Charlotte,” said Bastien with a smile. “It’s nice to see you.”
She looked up from her organized piles. “Oh, my gosh, I’m being so rude. Sorry. I just needed to make some room on the table in a way that wouldn’t end in a pile on the floor. Did you order already?” She sat back and sighed.
Cricket appeared. “Charlotte, my customer over there is a loss consultant or something like that. He helps businesses with insurance companies,” she said excitedly. “He was asking about the bad luck mess across the street and said he would be happy to talk with you. Maybe he can help speed up the insurance payments, since your company is dragging their feet.” Charlotte seemed suddenly flustered. Bastien was suspicious of the offer and the stranger’s interest but waited for Charlotte’s response.
Cricket was visibly disappointed when, instead of jumping at the chance, she barely looked up and murmured, “Oh nice, thanks. Maybe later.”
“Hmm. Well, ok then,” Cricket said. “If you don’t need help to get those blood sucking bastards to pay what they owe you.” She pulled her order pad and pen from her pocket. “What can I bring you two?”
They ordered, and Bastien spoke with some embarrassment. “Charlotte, I apologize. I’ve never asked how you’re doing with the disruption of your business, and if there was any way I could help.” He noticed her face flush and hoped he had not offended her with the question. She was one of the most capable and self-sufficient women he had ever encountered. How else could he entrust her with helping to unravel his own plight?
“It’s all fine. Thank you. I don’t need to burden you or anyone with my problems. There’s nothing more important to me right now than helping you and Ivy from being dragged through a fire by your mother’s lawyers. Let’s get started.”
Charlotte took out a notebook and was suddenly all business. Bastien was slightly surprised by the “take-charge” manner but knew enough about Southern women to sit back and comply or face the consequences.
She leaned in and whispered despite their cocoon like environment, “I’ve got some questions about your ideal wife.”
“My ideal wife is no wife,” Bastien mused.
