Mystic Hearts (22 page)

Larry
curled his arm around her and stayed silent.

Every
instinct screamed she’d be lost if Larry wasn’t in her life. Unknowingly, he
gave his support by the integrity he possessed, showing her that decent people did
exist. Learning about Larry’s past today cemented her first opinion of him. He
was honorable and was sincerely compassionate. Given these traits it made what
she needed to tell him harder to say. “Larry.”

“Uh-oh,
I don’t like the sound of this.”

She
forced a smile. “I have some things I need to take care of on my own.”

Refusing
to meet Larry’s eyes, she stared at his chest and clutched his shirt. “I don’t
know if I can do what you want, not until I resolve issues with Andrew.”

“And
what is it that I want?”

“Have
a relationship,” she said.

“Huh?
You want to be fuck-buddies?”

While
the question was vulgar, it’s exactly what she wanted. “To start. Actually, I
call it non-committal friends.”

“Same
thing I said last night, friends with benefits.”

He
had, but what he shared today put their relationship on a different playing
field. “Friends with benefits don’t worry about what’s going on in the other
person’s life. If they do, then it becomes a relationship.” She waited for the
impact of her words to hit, hoping he wouldn’t be offended and wouldn’t pry for
more information about the issue she had with Andrew. Larry was smart: if he
hadn’t already figured out that in order for her to move on with her life,
she’d have to deal with Andrew, he would soon.

His
grip tightened. “Makes sense to me. One more thing.”

Had
her determination dissuaded him?

“Yeah?”

“Know
this, I will protect you and at times you will probably think I’m controlling.
I’m not. I’m looking out for my interest.”

She
split her gaze back and forth between his eyes.

Mirror
reactions coursed through her brain. Admiration that Larry would do anything
for someone he cared for, and anticipation for when others’ decisions didn’t
impact their relationship. “I can live with that. While we’re friends with
benefits, I promise to be exclusive.”

His
chuckle turned to an outright laugh. He kissed the top of her head and held her
to him. “You phrase what we have any way you want. I’ll say okay.”

“Wuss.”

He
laughed again. “Only to you, sweetheart. Only to you.”

Chapter Thirteen

Driving
her mother’s decade old, white interior plush car that rode like she’d imagine
a tank might, Charlene turned out of Old Towne Detective Agency and headed toward
Colonial Beach to talk to Andrew’s best friend. The secret Larry had shared
meant a lot. She understood his need to protect her, actually loved the idea.
Her mother had called it right: Larry was a keeper.

If
he knew where Charlene headed, his face would turn red…sweat would bead on his
brow….and his eyes would darken. She sighed. Excitement from picturing him
above her in the throes of passion sent a thrill through her blood. Her center
clenched.

She’d
have to put aside her lustful thoughts of Larry. With any luck, she’d finagle a
way for him to come by tonight after Henry went to sleep. Letting her son know
she and Larry were seeing each other this soon could give him false hope. She’d
rather wait until her feelings reached the point of no return. Though, the strong
sensation she experienced but tried to bury deep inside her came close to the
dangerous ‘love zone’.

Nearing
the outskirts of Colonial Beach, her thoughts turned to Andrew. Her anger
boiled, remembering what he’d taken away from them. Her beloved Café, and her
home. Her prize belongings lost due to his inability to manage money. His
insistence on doing the restaurant’s books when she wanted to hire an
accountant should have flagged something was amiss. Andrew had hated math in
school.

Those
possessions were near and dear to her heart, but they weren’t what cut her to
the quick. Andrew’s behavior toward their son sliced through her as if a
butcher knife had torn her heart to shreds.

The
new lengths Andrew used to achieve what he wanted flabbergasted her. To
threaten their son… An ache shot through her, stopping her from completing the
thought. Any possible sentiment she had toward him dissolved into a puddle when
Andrew touched Henry’s hand, indicating he had more regard for money than his
only child’s life. In a million years, she didn’t think Andrew could stoop that
low.

She
had no words…no tears, just blazing fury.

Charlene
passed the familiar ‘Welcome to Colonial Beach’ sign. Nostalgia struck with the
sight of her restaurant and placed a heavy weight on the center of her chest.

“The
son of a bitch!” She whipped the wheel. Tires squealed and she screeched to a
halt in the parking lot in front of the café and shoved the gearshift into
park.

Andrew
may have ripped her heart out, stolen her foundation, and made her life a
living hell…but damn it, she would reclaim it.

She
bolted out of the car, ready to speak with the new owner. A sea of churning
memories surged into her brain, faltering her steps and throwing a cold bucket
of water over her anger.

The
decorations around the atrium structure looked the same as when she left.
Impossible
. The wooden chairs and tables
she purchased from a retailer in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, stayed fixed in the
spot she placed them five years ago. Balloon party lights she received for a
wedding present dangled from the canopy. They’d have to go.

Scooting
along the cement sidewalk flanking the restaurant, she dragged her fingers over
The Café’s swaying sign, and took in the picturesque view of the Potomac River.
A soft breeze drifted from the water, gently tossing her hair and brushing her
cheeks. The river’s scents drifted toward her: briny, algae, musty. On their
own, they’d reek. Together, they were a memory. She tilted her head up and
closed her eyes, letting the sun warm her face as she had done a thousand times
before, and enjoyed the moment until seagulls squawking drew her attention and
had her opening her eyes.

She
looked from the people lounging alongside the Potomac to the people sitting
under the awning on the Riverside Deck and glimpsed a piece of yellow. Time stopped.
Near the kitchen door, a yellow plastic baby swing suspended from the rafters
by four pieces of rope…Henry’s toddler swing. The swing hadn’t moved from the
spot from where she had spent countless hours pushing him. When he outgrew it,
she didn’t have the heart to take it down.

Why
would the new owners keep it? Questions engulfed her. Why did they not change
the décor? Why not make the restaurant theirs?

Emotions
roiled through her as she marched toward the front, climbed the steps, and
pushed open the door. Customers filled the rows of picnic tables, covered in
brown paper for all-you-can-eat crabs. Servers, carrying trays, weaved in and
out of the chaos. Bartenders split their attention between two counters on
either side of them, one facing the water, and the other opened up to the
inside of the cafe.
Identical to before
.

“Miss,
how many for lunch?”

Charlene
turned toward the voice of the woman she helped after her husband died in the
war. She’d given her a job and friendship. “Gloria.”

“Charlene!
How are you?” Her words escaped on a high pitch.

Gloria
Heart jumped up and down, her long, blonde ponytail waving behind her, before
she crashed into Charlene to give her a hug.

“I’m
okay,” she managed to say through Gloria’s tight grip.

“I’ve
missed you so much.”

Funny,
if Gloria missed Charlene, why hadn’t she called? Once after the kidnapping,
she had while Charlene had left messages for her friend a few times, but Gloria
never returned her call.

Gloria
shifted, her expression changing from happy to a scowl, thanks to slashing
eyebrows, and she played with the cloth belt draped around the waist of her
black, ankle-length dress.

Bracing
for the worse, Charlene folded her arms and stared at Gloria. “What’s up?”

“Nothing
much. I’ve been working nonstop. Between Todd and working here, my time is
pretty much booked. I’m sorry I haven’t called. We should get the kids together
for a playdate.” Gloria’s voice ended on a high note and rounded eyebrows.

Why
was Gloria acting strange? “I’m glad life is treating you well. What else has
been happening?”

“What
do you mean?”

“We
worked together too long for me not to pick up on the indicators that you’re
hiding something.”

“Oh.”
Gloria waved a dismissive hand. “I’m wound tight, trying to get the schedule
covered for next week. Nothing more.”

“You
are?” Charlene’s manager, Dean Wilkens, had managed The Café when she owned it.
“Is Dean not working here anymore?”

Gloria
pressed her lips together. “No. He left when the new owner wouldn’t let him be
partner.” She reached out, looking as if she wanted to touch Charlene’s arm,
then withdrew her hand. “I’m sorry the bank foreclosed on your café and home.”

Charlene
didn’t want to discuss what happened. She was here to figure out a way to get
her business back. “Is the owner here?”

“Yes.”
Gloria gave a slight nod, but didn’t give any further information.

“May
I speak with them?”

“What’s
this in regards to?”

The
question shot irritation through her body. Charlene gave her a sideways glare.
“Excuse me. This is between me and them.”

The
door opened and a party of four stepped into the foyer. Charlene moved aside
and waited for Gloria to seat them.

“Come
on,” Gloria said, when she returned and motioned with her hand to follow.

Charlene
trailed behind her through the throng of tables, waving and smiling at familiar
faces. She didn’t slow to chat, though. Another day, she would have. They
passed by the bar toward the back of the restaurant. Gloria opened the door to
Charlene’s old office and waved her arm, signaling for Charlene to step inside.

Again,
the furnishings stayed from when she ran the café. She moved toward her old
desk. Her planner, sticky notes that she had scribbled, even a cup a customer
had brought her the last day she worked sat on the aluminum desk.

Gloria
closed the door and raised her hand, palm forward, a silent gesture for
Charlene to listen. Tears filled Gloria’s eyes. “Here’s the thing. I didn’t
call you, ‘cause I didn’t know how you’d take what I did.”

Charlene’s
gut tensed. “Which is?”

“I
bought the café, hoping you’d say yes to be a partner with me, but when you remained
working at The Memory Café in Fredericksburg, I didn’t know what to do. I was
afraid you’d see me as controlling..”

Shame
washed over Charlene. She’d made her friend feel bad and hadn’t realized it.

“In
essence, I was. I did something without your knowledge, expecting you to jump
at the chance to at least own half the restaurant.” Gloria blew out a choked
breath. “There, I said it. Go ahead and kill me.”

Twin
reactions raced through Charlene. One, she wasn’t happy that her friend made a
decision for her. And, two, she was numb from her fingers to her toes from
Gloria’s generosity. And here she had a blip of a moment where she questioned
her friend’s motives. “What would you have done if I said no? And when were you
planning to contact me?”

“I
don’t know and I don’t know. After I made my decision, I had fundraisers. I’ve
used the money raised to pay for your half of the mortgage. The town’s people
love you. They hated that you went through such hardship.”

“I’ll
pay them back.”

Gloria
acted like a jumping bean again and her eyes widened. “That means you’ll do it?
You’ll be my partner?”

Charlene
loved this place too much to turn it down. She tucked her hair behind her ear
and nodded. “If you stop jumping, yes.”

Gloria
grounded her feet and stared at Charlene’s forehead. “Oh my god, what
happened?”

Charlene
touched the bruise on her head and decided not to share that Andrew was in the
area. If Gloria saw him, she would have mentioned it.

Thinking
about her current dilemma, she didn’t want anyone to know she had ownership of
The Café until she’d sorted out her troubles with her ex. Her ex would
manipulate and do whatever was in his power to sell it out from under her and
keep the money, not caring who was involved. Gloria didn’t need to be sucked
into Charlene’s troubles.

Until
then, the celebrating would have to wait. “Gloria, there are things that I
can’t share yet. I would appreciate keeping our agreement quiet for now. If
anyone asks, please tell them you didn’t get a chance to talk to me about it.”

A
watery-eyed Gloria stared, a questioning expression shooting her eyebrows into
her bangs. “He’s back.”