“Huh? Oh no, the sandwich was fine.” I folded it up in its wrapper and walked over to the mini fridge in my office. It had taken me five years, three promotions and four awards for automotive design to land the corner office with the view and wet bar, but I’d discovered, once they’d hauled my grandfather’s antique desk, a family heirloom, although one that was truly only valuable to me, up to the top floor that the corner office just wasn’t that exciting.
“Ahh,” Rory said with a confident nod, “you’ve been spending your lunchtime with one of your many book heroes, haven’t you? I swear, Ginger, you need to publish those stories.”
“I would if I ever actually finished one. Happily ever after endings are kind of unchartered territory for me. I’ve only had relationships that either went badly south or just faded away. I don’t know how to end my romances because I don’t know what it’s like to end up deliriously happy and wrapped in the hero’s arms. Like you, my friend.” I sighed. “You are so lucky.”
Rory stared down at the gleaming stone on her finger. “Trust me, I wake up every morning wondering if it’s all real. Well, anyhow, I came in to let you know that the meeting has been moved an hour later to three o’clock. The boy’s club,” she said with an eye roll, “is still out at lunch. How come you didn’t join your team today? They went to that posh seafood restaurant that just opened on the wharf.”
“Because, and to use your words and your special pronunciation, the boy’s club has been on my nerves lately.” I was part of a five member design team for the luxury sedan division, and I was the only woman. It had taken me a good long year and an impressive show of designs to earn my team’s respect, but when I’d also earned the respect and high praise from the president of the company, I’d lost some of the good will it had taken me so long to earn. Occasionally, they banded together, like a pack of wolves, to give me a hard time. Lately, they’d all found reasons to nitpick at my designs. I’d happily turned down their lunch invite. “I’m glad the meeting has been postponed. I’ve still got so much work to do.”
“Well, I’ll let you get to it then. And, Ginger, I think your happy ending is just around the corner. I can feel it,” she said as she walked out of the office.
I moved the mouse and clicked on my latest project. For a brief, unexplained second, the air around my desk smelled like a fresh ocean breeze, as if I’d somehow been transported onto the deck of a ship in the middle of the sea. I took a strong second whiff, but the scent vanished. I swiveled around in my chair to see if Rory had stuck an air freshener into the plug. The outlet was empty. Obviously, my head was still in my pirate story.
As I turned back toward my computer an odd website popped up with a banner that read, “I hear you are looking for a happily ever after.”
I blinked at the words and wondered if I was actually seeing them. “What are the odds of that?” I muttered to myself and clicked the X. The banner rolled away, but a new one replaced it. It was an advertisement for a place called the Silk Stocking Inn. An early century house draped with rose vines and dotted with leaded glass appeared below the banner. It was as if the advertisement had just appeared out of thin air. “Someone has a great marketing team. And a clairvoyant one too,” I thought wryly.
I clicked my mouse feverishly moving it all around the screen trying to get rid of the website, but the gifted marketers were apparently even more genius with programming. The stately old inn, with its shawl of pink roses, stuck like glue to my monitor.
“Now that I’ve got your attention,” a text box appeared. “In one sentence, tell me what you want from a man so you can catch that elusive happy ending.”
I stared at the monitor. The glare from the afternoon sun shining in through the big window cast my own wobbly reflection in the glass. I had no idea who was on the other side asking me questions, but then they had no idea who I was either. And the question had gotten me thinking.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard a moment. My pirate story was still fresh in my mind, and I decided to have some fun with it. “I want a man who makes me his captive and at the same time treats me like his greatest treasure. And, if he’s wearing silver hoops in his ears and says things like ‘aar’ and ‘shiver me timbers’ all the better.”
“That’s two sentences. You don’t seem to be taking this too seriously. But that will change.”
It seemed I’d just been scolded by a spam marketer. The cryptic last sentence made me do a double take.
“O.K., fun is officially over.” My fingers hit the keys harder than necessary.
“No, it’s just begun. Even though you broke the one sentence rule, you took the time to answer the question, so congratulations! You have won a free weekend at the Silk Stocking Inn where every heart’s desire is filled . . . and then some.”
“No thanks.”
“Did I mention every heart’s desire?”
“You did.”
“In that case, did I mention a cozy room, deep soaking tub and an ocean view?”
“Now they’ve been mentioned, but it’s still a no. I have plans this weekend.” Of course helping my aunt pick out a new refrigerator could hardly be classified as plans, but knowing my Aunt Frida, it could take all weekend. I smiled thinking how ridiculous it was having a conversation with a complete stranger, yet I continued typing. Something about the whole exchange intrigued me. It might just have been the impossibly tenacious website that I couldn’t seem to make vanish. Or it might have been that it was a fun diversion from my usual work day.
“Then I suppose the lobster pot pies and hot buttered rum cupcakes will have to go to another guest then.”
My mouth watered just reading the words. “You should have started with lobster and cupcakes.” I sat back and stared at the screen. This was crazy. Why was I even considering this? It was obviously just a marketing ploy.
A short laugh shot from my mouth as I metaphorically patted myself on the back for not falling for it. “I’d love to keep chatting with you, but I’m a busy woman. So I’m signing off now.” Then it occurred to me I’d never actually signed on, and I had no real idea how to sign off. I reached for the power button, the last resort button as I liked to call it.
One more message flashed on the screen. “Oh come on, Ginger. Take a little risk. Your aunt’s refrigerator can wait. See you soon.”
I stared at the screen and went through a flurry of emotions, ranging from shock to terror to complete disbelief. Before I could catch my breath or figure out what the hell was going on the website disappeared.
I needed to stop spending my lunchtime writing fiction. My imagination seemed to be working overtime.
Chapter Two
Pathetic was a good word for my social life, but I couldn’t think of a strong enough word for a social life where the weekend highlight of refrigerator shopping with an elderly aunt was cancelled because of a senior’s bingo game.
I closed the door to my office. Rory was just shutting down her computer. “I’ll walk out with you, Ginger.” She plucked her purse out of the desk drawer and scurried on her heels to catch up to me. “So where does this weekend’s big refrigerator hunt begin? Home Depot? Appliances R Us?”
I pressed the down button. “Sorry I even mentioned it. Besides, there’s no hunt. No Home Depot. Aunt Frida stood me up for bingo with her church buddies. Can’t really blame her. I mean they hand out free pretzels and honey lemon tea. Can’t beat that.”
Rory clapped her hands sharply. “Perfect. You can come to dinner with Edward and me. His cousin Paul is in town and—”
The elevator rumbled as it drew closer to our floor. “Do you mean the infamous cousin Paul, who, when he’s not picking his teeth with his fork, is staring at his reflection in the back of his spoon? No thanks. I prefer to wallow in the humiliation of being stood up by Aunt Frida.”
We stepped inside the elevator, and the doors slid shut. “You over-exaggerate. Paul is a little vain, I’ll give you that. But he’s rich.”
“Not rich enough for me to ignore his inflated head.” We walked through the lobby. It was Friday and most everyone had cleared out for the night, heading off in different directions to start their weekends after a long work week. “Where did you park?”
“Edward is picking me up.” She peered up at me with a smidgen of pity.
“Don’t give me that look, Rory. I’ll be fine. And thank you for the invite. I’m going to take my laptop down to the coast. I’m in the middle of a story that involves the ocean and I need the salt and sea ambience to move it along.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. I’ve decided it’s time for me to finish one of these damn stories. That way, I can live vicariously through my female lead. At least one of us can manage a happy ending.”
Rory gave me a quick hug. “I’ll be rooting for you—her, your female lead, that is, to have a really spectacular one. See you Monday.”
Chapter Three