CHAPTER 21
Katrina
Girasole occupied a converted stone cottage overlooking the ocean, its windows glowing softly against the darkening sky. It wasn't one of the tourist places near the beach. Most visitors never found it, which was exactly why the locals liked it.
Ryan hurried around the car and opened her door before she could reach the handle herself.
She blinked, surprised by the gesture. A gentleman, she thought. She could really get used to this.
"Thanks," she said, her earlier irritation almost completely gone.
"My pleasure."
He held the restaurant door open for her as well.
Holy Moly. Mom would've liked him.
The thought came so suddenly that it caught her off guard. Dad would have, too. She smiled as they followed the hostess to a quiet table by the window.
Once they'd ordered their drinks, Ryan looked around the restaurant.
"So," he said, "do you come here often?"
Katrina shook her head. "Not really. It's more of a special-occasion place." She smiled at the memory. "Rina and I came here for her birthday last year."
The waiter returned with their drinks. Katrina took a sip of her wine while Ryan ordered a steak. She settled on her usual pasta.
"We should get something for Marina to go," he said. "She can eat it tomorrow if not tonight. What does she like?"
Katrina smiled despite herself. He really did think of everything.
"The ravioli," she said. "With the pink sauce."
Ryan caught the waiter before he reached the kitchen. "Could you add an order of the ravioli with pink sauce to go?"
"Of course."
When the waiter disappeared into the kitchen, Katrina traced a finger around the rim of her wine glass.
"I'm sorry about earlier."
Ryan looked up. "You don't have to apologize."
"I do." She sighed. "I know she wasn't trying to ruin the evening. I just..." She searched for the right words.
It had been such a perfect day. They'd sailed, gone snorkeling, made love, and laughed more than she could remember. Why couldn't it end with one perfect dinner?
"You just wanted the three of us to finish the day together," he said.
She nodded. He got her. That was exactly how she felt.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
"I don't understand her sometimes," Katrina admitted. "She acts like the Beacon is the most important thing in her life. But she's never even liked working there."
Ryan listened quietly.
"She won't let me visit her at work, or calling there, or recommending the place to my students." Katrina frowned. "It's like she wants to pretend that part of her life doesn't exist."
Ryan chose his words carefully. "Maybe she's just trying to keep work separate from everything else."
"Maybe."
Katrina wasn't convinced. "I just think she deserves better than this job.” She stared out the window for a moment, watching the last streaks of orange disappear beyond the ocean. "She was supposed to finish college."
Ryan looked back at her. "What was she studying?"
"Exercise Science." Katrina smiled faintly. "She loved it. She wanted to coach athletes someday."
The smile faded.
"Then Mom and Dad..." She swallowed. "Everything changed. Rina put everything on hold. She stopped chasing the things she wanted. She quit school. Started working full-time."
Ryan reached across the table and rested his hand gently over hers. "She loves you."
Katrina looked up. "I know."
His words weren't telling her anything new.
Still, hearing someone else say them made something loosen inside her. "I just wish she'd let herself be happy."
Their meals arrived, giving them both a chance to let the conversation settle.
For a few minutes they ate in comfortable silence.
Then Ryan set down his fork. "You know, once your surf school website is finished, I think you'll get a lot more bookings."
"I hope so.”
"And the charter business might be picking up too."
"That’ll be nice."
He smiled. "Maybe someday Marina won't need the Beacon anymore."
Katrina laughed softly. "That's been my dream for years."
She imagined Marina spending her days on the water instead of behind a bar. Surfing, sailing, actually living. Maybe it wasn't as impossible as it had once seemed.
"Thanks," she said quietly.
Ryan looked at her. "For what?"
"For everything." She gestured vaguely with her fork. "The website. Today. Helping with Wayfinder." She smiled. "Just... being here."
He shrugged as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. "I'm glad I came."
"So am I."
He hesitated before adding, "I'll be back."
She raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"I mean it. Three hours isn't that far."
Katrina studied him for a moment. She could almost hear Marina's skepticism. But she wanted to believe him. She smiled. “I'll be looking forward to it.”
By the time they'd finished eating, the earlier disappointment had faded into the background.
She still wished Marina were sitting across from them, teasing Ryan about something or stealing food from her plate, but she could almost picture her sister at the Beacon, moving confidently behind the bar, making sure everything was running smoothly.
The waiter returned with the check and a white paper bag. "And here's the ravioli to go."
Ryan reached for both before Katrina could. "I've got it."
"You don't have to do that," she protested.
"I know." He smiled as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "But you just gave me a wonderful day. And this is the least I can do to thank you."
“Oh I can say the same,” she said, though she didn’t insist. She watched him sign the receipt, unable to stop smiling.
Damn. A familiar ache tugged at her heart.
Well, she'd been attracted to him almost from the moment they'd met, but this...
this was becoming something deeper. She had to stop.
Even if this wasn't goodbye. Even if he said he’d come back.
They stepped out of Girasole into the cool night air, both pleasantly full.
Katrina smiled as they crossed the parking lot. It had been a good dinner, even if she still wished Marina had been there.
Ryan walked beside her, his arm slipping lightly around her waist.
She shivered. It felt good. That simple, intimate gesture made her feel safe and unexpectedly content. Hope stirred inside her once more. She wouldn’t mind another evening like this. Stop it.
"That was amazing," she said as they reached the RAV4. "I never get tired of that place."
Ryan smiled while unlocking the doors.
"Best restaurant in town."
Katrina settled into the passenger seat, balancing the paper bag containing Marina's ravioli carefully on her lap.
Ryan started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.
He was halfway through the first intersection before an idea suddenly occurred to her. "Wait."
Ryan glanced over. "What?"
"The Beacon's only a few blocks from here." She lifted the paper bag slightly. "We should drop this off before it gets cold."
Ryan paused. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asked. "You told me Marina doesn't like people visiting her at work."
Katrina groaned. "Oh, right." She slumped back against the seat. "I forgot."
Her fingers tapped absently against the warm container inside the bag.
"I just..." She sighed. "I thought it’d be nice. She gets like this whenever she's working. She'll forget to eat, then come home starving after midnight."
Ryan was quiet for a moment. "I could take it in."
She looked at him.
"She never told me I couldn't stop by," he said. "And if I just hand it to someone behind the bar, she can't really be upset."
A smile spread across Katrina's face before she could stop it. "Really?"
"Sure."
"That would be perfect."
Relief washed over her. Marina might refuse to take care of herself sometimes, but at least she'd have a decent dinner waiting.
Ryan turned toward Harbor Street.
As they neared the Beacon, headlights lined both sides of the road. Cars filled the parking lot and spilled onto the surrounding streets.
"Looks busy," Ryan said as he slowed to look for a space.
Katrina nodded.
"Must be the big party she mentioned. They get them some Saturdays."
After circling the block once, Ryan finally found an open space about half a block away.
He switched off the engine. "I'll be five minutes."
Katrina handed him the paper bag. "Tell her it's the ravioli with pink sauce."
Ryan took it. "And?"
She smiled. "And tell her I already miss her grumpy ass."
He laughed. "I'll make sure she gets the message."
Katrina watched him disappear toward the Beacon, the paper bag swinging lightly at his side.
Faint jazz drifted down the quiet street as she settled back in her seat. Five minutes passed. Katrina glanced at the dashboard clock. Then another minute.
She drummed her fingers against her knee and looked toward the Beacon. Music drifted through the open doorway each time someone entered or left, mingling with bursts of laughter from inside.
Ryan wasn't usually the type to lose track of time. Maybe Marina had convinced him to stay for a minute.
Or maybe she'd finally agreed to sit down and eat. Katrina smiled at the thought.
Another minute slipped by. Her eyes settled on the Beacon again. For as long as she could remember, Marina had insisted on one strange rule.
Don't come to the bar. Don't call her there. Don't even tell people she worked there.
At first Katrina had assumed her sister was embarrassed about bartending. Later she'd decided Marina simply wanted to keep work separate from home.
Still...It had always seemed odd.
She frowned. What if there was another reason? The thought came so suddenly she almost laughed at herself.
Rina wasn't hiding anything. They had no secrets between them. Didn't they?
Katrina sighed. She was probably overthinking it.
Still, it wouldn't hurt to step inside for a second. Ryan had been gone longer than he'd promised, and she wanted to make sure Marina actually got her dinner.
Besides, maybe she could surprise her. She climbed out of the RAV4 before she could talk herself out of it.
The jazz music stopped, and applause drifted down the street.