Four
ELISE
After a quick but luxurious shower, I towel dry my hair and throw on a black sundress. I haven’t eaten since lunch, but don’t want to risk missing the potential contractor. I figure I’ll have a short chat, then grab food.
Locking my room, I head in the direction of the Jimmy Buffett tunes.
Now that the sun’s set, there’s a slight bite in the air and I regret not bringing a cardigan.
Total mom vibes, but who cares? I debate turning back, but then I spot the bright string lights draping the tiki bar and realize it’s too late — I’m already here.
I grab a rattan stool at the end of the bar and peruse the plastic menu.
As expected, no substantial dinner food.
I settle on a glass of pinot grigio and wait for the bartender to come my way.
His back’s to me as he flirts with two college-aged girls in tight bodycon dresses at the far side of the bar.
I cross, then uncross my legs, my stomach grumbling even over the crash of the ocean waves.
“Hey, Elise, right?” The bartender taps the teak bar and my head pops up.
It’s one of the hotties from the dive bar, the guy who helped me with directions. “Uh, yeah, hey. I remember your name starts with a ‘P,’ but I don’t think it’s Peter.”
“Ha! Nope. Parker. Did you find the Bennett house okay?”
I nod. “I did. Thanks for the directions.”
“Cool. What can I get for you?” He gestures at the menu.
“Oh. A pinot grigio, please.”
“Coming right up.” He ducks behind the bar, then reappears brandishing a clean glass and the bottle of wine, pouring me a healthy serving.
“Thanks.” I take a sip, the cold liquid sliding down easily. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until this very moment.
Parker rests his elbows on the bar. The music switches over to reggae, and I take another long swig of wine. A light breeze rustles the palm fronds overhead.
Clearing my throat, I say, “I think I spoke with your sister at the front desk.”
“Poppy?” he asks, raising his brow.
“Yes. She told me you’re a contractor?”
Parker cracks his knuckles and nods. “Yep. Sure am. Me and my boy Smitty are the best in the county. Promise.” He winks at me, and warmth blooms in my belly. It’s been an absolute age since anyone flirted with me, even if only to get my business.
“Would you be able to take a look at my aunt’s house and give me an estimate? Like, tomorrow?” I ask, batting my eyelashes at him. After all, I only have a week.
He lets out a long whistle. “I’m slammed here, but I can ask Smitty if he can do it. I’ll text him right now.”
“Great, thanks.”
I wait while he dashes off a text, then makes another round of margaritas for the college girls. Ten minutes later, he’s back.
“Good news. He shuffled his schedule and can meet you tomorrow morning at eight.”
“Really? That’s fantastic, thank you.” I smile up at him and he grins back.
“Yeah, no problem. Listen — if you don’t mind my asking…” He leans back down on the bar, resting his chin on his hands. “What’s the story with the Bennett house?”
“What do you mean?” I finger a droplet of condensation on my glass, wondering where this conversation is going.
“Not to pry, but are you a relative? I’ve lived in Seaglass Beach my whole life, and I never knew Ginny Bennett had any kin.” He squints at me, his eyes the exact same shade of blue as his sister’s.
I clear my throat, dropping my voice lower, although I don’t know why. “She was my great-aunt, twice removed. I’m her only living relative. I found out about the house last week, so I’m here to check it out.”
“Huh. Interesting. You ever been here before?”
“Once, a long time ago; I think I was five. Probably before you were born.”
He chuckles, laugh lines creasing his face, the result of accumulated sun exposure more than age. “Doubt that. You can’t be older than thirty.”
“Ha! If you weren’t the bartender, I’d buy you a drink. I’m forty.”
“Shit. That was before I was born.” Parker scrubs his jaw.
“Yeah, I’m old.”
“Nah. Experienced.” He winks at me again, and I get the distinct impression he’s way more experienced than me, even if I am older.
“Did you know my Aunt Gin?” I ask.
“I saw her around town every now and again. She wasn’t real sociable; mostly stuck near home. How’s the house?” One of his blond eyebrows quirks up as he wipes the bar with a towel.
“It needs work. Do you know how long it’s been vacant? Seems like no one’s lived there for a while.”
Parker shrugs. “Not sure. Last I heard, your Aunt Gin went north for the summer. So that was almost nine, ten months ago. Don’t recall seeing her around this winter, so the house could’ve been closed up this whole time.”
I sigh, a heavy sadness settling in my chest.
Am I going to end up like Aunt Gin? Gone the better part of a year and no one even realizing?
“You okay?” Parker touches my hand, interrupting my reverie, and I glance up at him.
“I’m fine.” I shrug off his concern, not wanting to delve into my marital problems with the bartender. Way too cliché.
“Hey.” A low, deep voice rumbles behind me, and I glance over my shoulder.
“Smitty! What brings you out tonight?” Parker grins at Smitty as he slides into the seat next to me at the bar.
“Thought I’d hang out for a bit.”
“It’s cool. You can admit you don’t have any other friends but me,” Parker jokes, sliding a bottle of beer to Smith.
Smith rolls his eyes, takes a slug of beer. I note the dark stubble on his square jaw, his high cheekbones, the thick lashes framing his light brown eyes. He’s definitely attractive, and I don’t buy for one second that he doesn’t have any friends.
“You remember Elise?” Parker nods in my direction. “The Bennett house? We were just talking about the property.”
Smith glances over at me and nods. “I’m Smith. I didn’t properly introduce myself earlier.”
He shoots his large hand out and we shake, his eyes never leaving mine. A frisson of something I haven’t felt in a long damn time travels all the way from my hand to my belly and all of a sudden, I’m extremely warm.
“Nice to meet you,” I manage to squeak out, my cheeks burning.
Pull yourself together, Elise. You’re as bad as the sorority girls at the end of the bar.
A few moments pass and it feels like the entire world stops.
“Ahem.” Parker clears his throat — loudly — and Smith drops my hand. The teak is cool compared to his warm palm. I shift in my seat, suddenly awkward.
“I should go,” I say, pushing my empty wineglass away. “I’ve had a long day.”
“You sure I can’t buy you a drink?” Smith offers, locking his eyes on mine.
God help me, I want to say yes. Honestly, I’d love nothing more.
But cold, hard logic kicks in. “Maybe next time.” I shoot him a smile. “Put that on my tab. Bungalow Four,” I tell Parker. “See you tomorrow.”
I wave and head back to my room before I do anything crazy. I’m not even officially divorced yet; the last thing I need right now is getting tangled up with anyone, especially someone as gorgeous — and young — as Smith.