Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
C ece lounged in her hammock on her screened porch, a generous glass of wine within reach on the side table, her Kindle in her hands as she read the book club book. She was now completely engrossed and she was loving that she had nothing more pressing to do than lay here and read it.
Peanut was in one of the chairs, snoozing away as the Gulf breezes washed over the porch. It was a beautiful night.
Dinner was baking in the oven: a trio of large potatoes that she’d rubbed in olive oil and sprinkled with kosher salt.
When they were done, she’d slather one with butter, salt, pepper, and sour cream, add some chopped bacon and that would be all she needed.
Maybe a scoop of chocolate ice cream later.
The other baked potatoes would be for the week. The less cooking she had to do, the better.
She set her Kindle aside to sip her wine. Nights like this made her think her life wasn’t so bad, despite the downturn that had resulted in her retirement and divorce.
Didn’t mean she wasn’t still upset about all that had happened. She was. And probably would be until the day she died. But nights like this made the thought of those things recede.
It helped that she didn’t have Natalie or her grandson to worry about. The relief at knowing her son-in-law was still a good man was immeasurable. She lifted her glass and toasted him, hoping he got that promotion.
Paige had texted an update, telling them all about Lester’s upcoming surgery and letting them know she’d be providing updates as she got them. Also, she’d told them Althea would most likely be attending next week’s book club meeting.
Cece liked the thought of that. She looked forward to meeting the woman. It was impossible to live in the Colony and not know who she was, but getting to know the actual woman should prove interesting.
If Cece’s job had taught her anything it was that reality and perception were often two very different things. A lot of people had public and private faces.
She’d already assumed Blaise was like that. And why wouldn’t she be? In her younger days, the woman had been an It girl. Hounded by paparazzi, her image able to launch new products into the stratosphere.
Crazy to think she’d fallen for a scam that had nearly wiped her out. Cece hated stories like that. Worse still, Blaise was such a lovely person. She hadn’t deserved any of that awfulness. Scammers were some of the lowest lifeforms.
Another sip of wine, then she put her glass down.
She picked up her Kindle, then immediately laid it flat on her chest as inspiration came to her. Maybe she should do a series about that for the Buzz . About common scams and how to avoid them. That would at least be some real journalism.
More so than just interviewing new residents. Which reminded her that she was scheduled to meet Dr. Oliver Keen tomorrow for breakfast at The Bee’s Knees, the café in the small shopping center that served the community.
It wasn’t the kind of interview that truly warranted breakfast. It could have been handled with a few emails and a questionnaire, but she was curious to meet this man. Something about him didn’t add up.
The hospital website said he was married, with two older kids and a dog, but tiny houses didn’t lend themselves to that kind of family life. There was no way two older kids would be sharing a bedroom. Not to mention four people in a tiny house with a golden retriever?
It didn’t pass the sniff test.
She’d find out more tomorrow. She went back to the book until the oven timer went off. Peanut followed her in. Cece grabbed the potatoes out with tongs and set them on a plate to cool for a few minutes.
While they rested, she gave Peanut her dinner, then turned the television on and went to one of her streaming channels. She was working her way through a series of historical true crime documentaries. Amazing they ever caught anyone before fingerprints and DNA.
She fixed a baked potato, refilled her wine, and settled in to watch. Peanut finished her food and sat nearby, cleaning herself.
The potato was good and as she took her empty dish into the kitchen, a new thought hit her. Maybe it was the wine, but maybe it was just a smart idea. Actually, she’d had a lot more wine than she usually allowed herself, but she’d sort of been celebrating her daughter’s husband not being a cheater.
She felt like she should go for a walk on the beach. It was a beautiful night. In a few more weeks, the temperatures would rise, and this wonderful cool breeze would be gone until the fall. She should take advantage of the weather and the great night to get some exercise and enjoy nature.
Not to mention, the exercise might help her sober up a bit.
“What do you think, Peanut?”
Peanut had settled into her cat tower, which gave her a fantastic view of the neighbor’s bird feeder, a popular spot with squirrels. She didn’t answer.
“I’m going. And I’m going to stick my toes in the water, too. And get some sunset pictures because, if I hustle, I can get down there before it sets.”
She grabbed her phone, wiggled her feet into a pair of flipflops, and with her key in her pocket, headed for the beach.
She lived a few streets away, but it didn’t take that long before her feet touched sand.
She walked through the dune grasses, following a well-worn path.
There were other folks on the beach, but fewer than she’d imagined.
Some were walking dogs, some looked like they were hunting for shells, and others just enjoying the night.
There was a slight drop-off near the waterline, probably because it was low tide. Or at least it seemed like low tide. She’d never been good at knowing when the tides occurred, but she didn’t recall seeing that drop-off before.
She stepped down and as soon as she got close to the water, she left her flipflops behind and sank her toes into the sand. It felt good. She needed to come down here more often. She walked to the water and stood where the waves could reach her.
The water was cool but refreshing. She went a little further in, letting it lap over her feet, the sand shifting and moving beneath them with each wave.
The sun sank lower, the light turning gold and purple as dusk drew closer. Other people stopped to take sunset photos. Her feet were further under the sand, but she pulled them out and stepped back so she didn’t get too wet while she took the photos. Bits and pieces of shell crunched underfoot.
She held her phone up in front of her, concentrating on the view. Maybe she’d take a video and post that to Facebook. A reel. That’s what they called it these days.
She really needed to be a little higher. Still watching the view on her phone, she stepped back toward the rise behind her.
Instantly, she realized she’d miscalculated where the rise was. Or how sturdy it was. Or something, because her foot crashed through the edge of the sand and she fell backwards onto her butt.
And felt the very distinct shape of a man’s hand underneath her left cheek. She yelped and tried to move but ended up in the man’s lap.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she said, scrambling to get off the man she’d fallen on top of. She dropped her phone.
“It’s all right.” He snatched it out of the sand and held it out to her. “Here you go.”
She took the phone as she righted herself, his fingers calloused and rough where her fingers brushed his. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Me either. I was trying to grab a shell.” He smiled.
She was kneeling in the sand. She stopped trying to get up and looked at him. Bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, he looked like he was cast in bronze. A statue of an ancient god, or at least as beautiful as one. “Hi,” she breathed out.
“Hi,” he said, eyes twinkling with light.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. How are you?”
She was struggling to find words was how she was.
The man in front of her was gorgeous. Tanned and rugged looking, with touches of gray at his temples and a day or two’s worth of stubble that somehow made him better looking.
“I’m really sorry. I guess I shouldn’t be on the beach after two glasses of wine. ”
She immediately cringed. Why had she said that? She wasn’t drunk. She was fine. At most she was a tiny bit buzzed.
He laughed. “It’s okay.” He held up a beautiful, speckled shell between his thumb and index finger. “Pear whelk.” He palmed it and held it out to her. “For you.”
She took it. It was warm from the sun and his touch. “Thank you. I’m Cece.”
“Nice to meet you, Cece. I’m Jonas, but you can call me Joe.” He got to his feet and offered her his hand.
She let him help her up, then brushed the sand off her knees and backside. “Well, sorry again, Joe.”
“Did you come down to see the sunset?”
She nodded. The sun had just sunk out of view and the sky above was turning shades of pink and orange that defied description. “Yeah. I wanted to get a picture. I live so close and yet I hardly ever come to the beach.”
“I’m here a lot. I love it. You live in the Colony?” He laughed. “Sorry for asking so many questions.”
“It’s okay. Yeah, I do. You?”
“Yep. I live just up the beach. I’m on Hibiscus.”
Her brows lifted. “You live beachfront.”
He nodded. “Always been a dream of mine.”
“I live on Palmetto, just a few streets away.” She didn’t know why she’d told him that, but he wasn’t giving her any reason to think he was trouble. Not with a smile like that.
“Hey, you like bowling?”
She’d never been in a bowling alley, let alone picked up a bowling ball. “I love it.”
“How about we go tomorrow evening? Believe it or not, Starlight Lanes also has a great little bar and grill. We can grab a bite and bowl a few games. What do you say?”
“I…” She nodded. “I’d love that.” How was she going to learn to bowl in twenty-four hours?
“Great.” He took out his phone. “Let me give you my number.”