4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
She wasn’t sure what to make of him.
The next morning, Jenna found herself thinking about Simon. She was quickly finding out that there were many layers to him. On the outside, he was stiff and grumpy. But as his layers were peeled back, he was kind.
There was a part of her that wanted to know more about him. But how was she supposed to do that? Knock on his door and say, Hey, I want to know more about you? She didn’t think so.
Besides, she had to get to work. She had the early shift, and before that she had a meeting. Her brother Neil had called the group meeting to discuss the prior month’s performance and what they needed to do to improve things. In other words, it was just the same old, same old.
But when the meeting was over, she intended to corner her brother. She hadn’t given up on her idea of how to improve things at the checkout registers. And now that the peak business season had arrived, the congestion at the registers proved that changes needed to be made.
She rushed through her shower. She pulled her dark curls up into a ponytail like she did most every day for work. It kept her hair out of her way, and in the summer it was cooler to have it off her neck.
After applying a little makeup, she went downstairs. She grabbed a clean apron from the laundry basket full of clothes that she didn’t get around to putting away after her cleaning marathon the day before.
She hurried out the door, but when she paused to lock the door, she realized she’d forgotten her keys. She put down her coffee and apron on the chair next to her front door. She searched her pockets. They weren’t there.
She must have forgotten to pick them up from the kitchen counter. She opened the door and hustled back inside. Her keys weren’t on the counter. And then she realized that when she was cleaning, she’d put them where they actually belonged, on the small rack of hooks. And that’s where she found them.
With the keys in hand, she headed out the door again. She stepped onto the front porch to find her new neighbor standing there. He was dressed in a white T-shirt and blue shorts like he was getting ready to go for a run.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Morning. Off to work?”
She nodded. “I am. Off for a run?”
He nodded. “I am.”
“Well, have a good day.” She turned to pick up her things but only one of the two items was there. How could that be?
She looked all around for her apron. It was dark green, and it was all rolled up. Had it rolled off the chair?
She knelt down and looked under the chair. It wasn’t there. How was that possible?
She turned to Simon, who was doing some warm-up exercises. She felt really silly saying this, but she was desperate to find her apron and be on her way. “Did you happen to see my apron?”
He arched a brow. “No.”
She walked around her half of the porch and didn’t see it. “I don’t understand. It was here a moment ago. I’m certain of it.” She worried her bottom lip.
“I know sometimes when I’m in a hurry, I’ll think I did something because it’s part of my routine, and then later I’ll realize I was mistaken.”
Was that what had happened? She didn’t have time to contemplate the answer. Time was ticking.
She had some more aprons, but they were already put away upstairs. She unlocked the door and ran inside. She took the steps two at a time.
A minute later, she was back outside. She couldn’t help but notice how muscular her new neighbor was. In fact, he was in really great shape. Other adjectives also came to mind like handsome and sexy.
He stopped stretching long enough to ask, “Did you find it?”
“Uh.” Did he notice her staring? She hoped not. “No. I had an extra.” As much as she wouldn’t mind standing there while he finished his warm-up routine, she had to get going.
She arrived at the market at 8:03. The market didn’t open until nine. She rushed to the conference room where the meeting was already underway. And of course, everyone noticed she was late.
Neil merely arched a brow but kept the meeting going. He was going over the financial results.
“Why were you late?” Myra whispered.
“I lost my apron.”
“You lost it?” Myra gave her a funny look. “What’s with you lately?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You keep misplacing things.”
“I do not.” The denial came out a little louder than she’d intended. But then she recalled the high heel that had gone missing too.
“Jenna, do you have something to share?” Neil glared at her for interrupting the meeting.
“Uh, no.” She turned and shot Myra a dirty look for getting her in trouble.
Amusement danced in Myra’s eyes.
Jenna didn’t find it amusing at all. And now that Neil was all grouchy, he wasn’t going to take anything she had to say seriously. But that wouldn’t stop her from trying.
After the meeting concluded, she waited for everyone to leave, and then she approached her big brother, who was also her boss. “Neil, can we talk about the front of the store?”
He lifted his head from where he was gathering the papers he’d brought to the meeting. “We had this talk before, and I don’t see a reason to change things.”
“But things keep bottlenecking up there. Not every checker works at the same speed. And not every order is the same quantity—”
“And no one has complained.”
“Not to you but—”
He stopped what he was doing and looked directly at her. “Jenna, you walk in late to the meeting, and now you want me to take your concerns seriously? I’m starting to get the feeling you don’t want to be here any longer.”
“I never said that.”
“Maybe not. But you seem distracted lately. And I’m not the only one to notice.” And with that he took his papers and walked away.
Was she distracted? She didn’t think so. He was just upset that she’d been a few minutes late today. It couldn’t be helped.
She thought about going after Neil and explaining about her missing apron, but then she’d thought it might make matters worse. He already thought she was distracted. She didn’t need him to think she was irresponsible too.
The thing was, she had no idea what had happened to her apron. She was certain she’d had it when she first stepped onto the porch. And she’d only gone back into the house for a second to retrieve her keys, and then it was gone.
However, when she did return to the porch, her neighbor had been there. Surely, he wouldn’t have taken her apron. She quickly dismissed the idea. After all, why would he be interested in her apron?
She pushed thoughts of her new neighbor to the back of her mind. She didn’t have time for daydreaming. She had to get to work.
It was refreshing.
Simon was feeling much better after his run on the beach. It was a first for him. He used to run back before he became successful—back before his hobby had become his full-time profession—back before he let his writing take over his life.
Maybe his stay on Bluestar Island was his chance to change things in his life for the better. Maybe he would find some balance between his work and having a personal life. The thought made him laugh.
He knew himself too well. Balance was not something that he was good at. When creativity struck, it pulled him down the proverbial rabbit hole. And he didn’t reemerge again until he’d chased down the plot thread that he’d been pulling on. Still, it was nice to imagine having balance. Maybe someday.
After showering, Simon was ready to work. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to work inside or outside. With his beautiful neighbor supposedly off to work, he didn’t have to worry about her loud music or listening to her sing.
He opted to work out on the deck. His agent had been right. There was something relaxing about listening to the roar of the ocean and the feel of the sea breeze on his face.
He just had to get his things before heading outside. He grabbed his keyboard writer, the little notebook where he jotted some ideas, and… He didn’t see his pen anywhere.
He knew it was old-fashioned to handwrite his notes, but he liked the feel of the pen in his hand. He had a lot of notebooks filled with notes for prior books.
Where could it be? His mind whirled with the possibilities. He’d had it the day before so that meant the pen was somewhere in the house. At least it was replaceable. No big deal.
His gaze moved to Gus. Would he have taken it? Honestly, it wouldn’t be the first time the dog had taken something that hadn’t belonged to him.
Simon moved toward the dog. He stopped in front of him and placed his hands on his waist. “Gus, did you take my pen?”
He would swear the dog understood exactly what he’d said and looked at him with the most innocent look like: Who? Me?
Buzz.
“Saved by the ringing phone.” Simon turned away to retrieve his phone from the coffee table. When he saw it was his agent, Gwen, he pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello.”
“Simon, how’s it going?”
“Well, you were right. The island is really nice.”
“Good. How about the writing?”
“It’s…” He paused, trying to think of the right words. “It’s coming along.”
“I just got off the phone with your editor, and they’re chomping at the bit to get their hands on it.”
Simon shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Up until this point, he hadn’t told his agent just how bad his writer’s block had been.
“How close are you to finishing it?”
There was a long pause.
“Simon, are you still there?”
“Uh, yeah… The book isn’t finished.” Simon cleared his throat. “I mean I have a long way to go.” Talk about your understatements.
“This isn’t good.” Her voice took on a note of urgency. “Your publisher is breathing down my neck. We have to give them something.”
He thought about the words he’d written yesterday. They weren’t edited, and he wasn’t even certain he was headed in the right direction. He couldn’t send that out to his agent and publisher. He wasn’t ready to lock himself into this version of the book. Not yet.
“Simon.” Gwen’s voice drew his attention. “I need you to send me what you’ve got.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. It’s not ready.”
Gwen was quiet for a moment, as though evaluating where they went from here. They’d never been in this position before. He’d always been timely. But then his pseudonym was outed to the tabloid.
He stopped his thoughts. He wasn’t going there. Not today. Not now.
“Did you hear me?” Gwen asked.
He hadn’t heard a word Gwen had said. “Um... What?”
“Send me your opening chapters?”
“What?” He didn’t have opening chapters, as in plural, as in more than one. “No.”
“Simon, come on. Work with me.” A tense silence grew between them. Gwen sighed. “Fine. Send me your first chapter. I promise not to send it to the publisher. I’ll just jot some notes as I read it, and I’ll get it back to you. Deal?”
Simon knew it was the best deal he was going to get, but he still didn’t like it. He got squirrelly about sharing his work before he deemed it complete.
But he only had himself to blame for the position he was in. “Fine. But just remember, it’s a rough draft.”
“Understood. And you’ll send it over now?”
There was another tense pause.
He sighed. “Yes.”
“I’m looking forward to it reading. Talk soon.”
“Bye.” Simon pressed the end button before his agent could think of something else to bring up.
He moved to the kitchen island where his laptop was plugged in and charging. He copied and pasted the first chapter into a new file. He wrote a brief email, attached the file and sent it. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to get another perspective. But what would his agent think of it?