…
Joe flipped open his laptop in his office. It was Wednesday, and he still hadn’t tallied up his profits from the festival. It was unusually tardy for him, but after staring at the screen for half an hour, he’d made no progress and almost welcomed the interruption when Sarah appeared at his side holding a plate of food.
“I thought you could do with some lunch.” She slid the plate of sizzling garlic prawns onto his desk.
He’d had two cups of coffee for breakfast and nothing since then. The prawns were plump and juicy but didn’t stir his appetite.
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry. You have them.”
Sighing, she sat down and forked up a prawn. “I’ll make you a tuna sandwich for later.”
“Why are you making me lunch anyway?”
She shrugged. “Just trying to be helpful.”
“Yeah? What makes you think I need help?” Joe blew out a breath. Ever since Sunday he’d noticed both Vince and Sarah treating him like a kid who’d just had a tonsillectomy.
Sarah toyed with her fork. “Um, well, you’ve been working long hours this week.”
“So? I always work long hours.”
“Yes, but usually you’re not so…” She hesitated then dropped her fork with a clatter. “Look, we’re worried about you. Ever since Nina left you’ve been…moody.”
Joe scowled. “I’m not pining for her, if that’s what you think.” He shook with indignation.
“You’re not?”
Christ, what else had Sarah and Vince noticed about him? “Definitely not.” He jabbed a finger at his laptop. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got work to finish here before I visit my nonna this afternoon.”
Grimacing, Sarah gripped the plate in front of her. “You know, sometimes I think you use your work and your grandmother as an excuse not to get involved.”
He gaped at her. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She leaned forward, her expression earnest. “I know about the girl who cheated on you when your grandma was injured. Ever since then you’ve closed yourself off from relationships, telling everyone, including yourself, that you’re too busy with your work, your grandmother, your town duties, your whatever. But that’s just a convenient way of avoiding getting hurt again, isn’t it?”
Joe struggled to breathe. Was this really Sarah, his tough, no-nonsense chef, giving him romantic advice?
Before he could formulate a coherent answer, Sarah continued, “I think you really feel something for Nina, but you’re too scared to admit it to yourself.”
A bitter laugh burst from him. “Nina? Have you forgotten all her lies? Have you forgotten she’s Carson Beaumont’s daughter?”
“I know she lied, but she worked hard—even I can admit that. I figure she had good reasons for concealing her identity.”
Oh, this was too much. Joe made a slicing gesture with his hand. “Whoever she is, I’ve forgotten all about her.”
“You wouldn’t be so angry if you weren’t in love with her.”
Joe gulped. He wasn’t in love with Nina. He wasn’t. He was only angry because she’d fooled him.
He repeated the words like a mantra.
Sarah was looking wistful. “Hey, I’ve been there, you know…had feelings for someone who didn’t return them.” She prodded at the prawns. “But I think Nina has a thing for you, too. A ginormous thing. You should tell her how you feel.”
No. Way. In. Hell.
He pushed to his feet. “I’ve got to go.”
He hotfooted it out of his study. Someone was coming down the hall. He turned and stomped blindly into the next room, only to realize his mistake—he’d walked into Nina’s old room. Someone had stripped the bed and left Nina’s clothes neatly folded on the mattress. Beneath the bed her turquoise Crocs were neatly lined up.
The sight of those Crocs made his heart spasm with pain. Leaning against the door for support, he squeezed his eyes shut. Was he never going to forget about Nina?
…
Saturday morning Joe woke up early after another sleepless night and drove to his B&B. But his heart wasn’t into it, and he wondered if he had the necessary energy to see this project through. Each time he came here he was reminded of Nina and how she’d helped him so enthusiastically. She’d shared his vision for this place, and now he couldn’t be here without thinking of her.
It was the same at his home or at the inn. Nina had wormed her way into his life so effectively it seemed he’d never be able to forget her.
A knock on the door was a welcome distraction, and he greeted Vince with relief. Maybe his friend could take his mind off Nina.
But Vince disappointed him. They had just started ripping some rampant ivy away from the outer walls when Vince said conversationally, “So have you spoken to Nina recently?”
Joe’s back cramped up. “No, why would I?” he retorted.
Vince gave a mild shrug. “Just thought after a week you’d have calmed down and gotten your head straight about her.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I understand why you got so mad when you found out who she was, but, well, she’s still Nina. She’s still the same person you fell for.” Vince’s eyes were trained on him. “Isn’t she?”
Despite the cool morning air, Joe suddenly felt hot and uncomfortable. Six nights of sleepless tossing. Six days of feverish arguments and counterarguments. He couldn’t go on like this.
He grabbed hold of a thick vine and yanked at it viciously. “I don’t know anything anymore, man.” He tore off a chunk of ivy. “Except one thing. I can’t for the fucking life of me stop thinking about her.”
Vince nodded. “Knew you had it bad.”
His bare hands were smarting. He scowled at his friend. “Is that all you got for me?”
“Nope. I think you should go talk to her.”
“Talk to her? You mean…drive down to San Francisco to see her?” The idea seemed outrageous.
“That’s the general idea.” Vince grinned.
“But—” Joe’s head started to spin. “What would I say?”
“I dunno. Maybe you should just tell her you love her. I hear chicks go for that.”
Joe wanted to strangle his friend. “Yeah, that’s a big help, Vince!” He hurled away the mangled bit of ivy. His heart hammered in his chest like an engine about to explode, while his brain churned out frightening scenarios of baring his soul to Nina.
“Okay, so I don’t know exactly what you’d say to her, but you’d think of something, I’m sure. And anything is better than galumphing around like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.”
Joe let out a seething hiss. He dug his fingers into his brow, desperately trying to order his thoughts. “I don’t even know where she lives.”
“That’s okay. I read on the internet that Beaumont’s daughter Brooke is getting married today at the Beaumonts’ home in Presidio Heights. I can text you the address.”
“And you think they’ll just let me walk in off the street, huh?”
Vince rubbed his jaw, considering. “Well, you might want to take a shower before you go. I hear chicks like that, too.” He held up his hands as Joe growled at him. “Hey, are you going to let a little wedding invitation stand in your way? Just tell them you’re her plus one and bluff your way in.”
I must be going crazy, Joe thought, because he was actually contemplating how long it would take him to get to San Francisco. And excitement was bubbling in him at the prospect of seeing Nina again. Excitement and fear and doubt. He needed to see her again. Just one more time without all the anger clouding his brain. He needed her, just plain needed her, which meant…
“Aw, damn,” he muttered as prickling chills raced up and down his spine.
“What?” Vince asked.
“I do love her, you know. I just didn’t realize it until now.”
Vince clapped him on the shoulder. “Save it for Nina, buddy. Doesn’t work on me.”
Chapter Fifteen
The devil had reserved a special dose of hell for those attending a wedding with a broken heart, and Nina had felt the flames licking her all afternoon. It didn’t help that the wedding was an overblown extravaganza and the guest list was stuffed with socialites, politicians, business execs, and all the other people Nina had so little in common with. For hours she pretended she was having a good time until Brooke and the senator’s son finally left, bound for their honeymoon by private jet.
Nina had talked Lindsey into coming to the wedding as her guest, and they found a quiet table to themselves. Nina had gotten hold of a bottle of expensive wine, with every intention of getting hammered, but now it didn’t seem worth the effort. Everything felt like hard work these days. She felt so flat and empty and…old.
“You really think moving to Palm Springs is a good idea?” Lindsey asked, sipping her wine.
“I told you why I’m doing it.”
“Yes, but Joe doesn’t even know you’re doing it for him.”
“It’s okay. As long as he’s happy.” She clenched her jaw against the pain.
Lindsey squeezed Nina’s hand. “He’s a dope and doesn’t deserve your sacrifice.”