Wind Chime Café (A Wind Chime Novel) (33 page)

He’d sounded reasonably calm over the phone when he’d invited her to dinner. Maybe Della had been right; once the shock of finding out he was a father had worn off, he’d realized they could sit down and discuss this as adults.

But if that was the case, why did she feel like she was walking into a trap?

Handing the hostess her jacket, she took in the white tablecloths and iron sconces hanging from the exposed brick walls. There were only five tables in the dining room and a cozy fire crackled in the hearth. A waiter in a starched white shirt and black tie poured her a glass of wine as she sat down across from Blake.

Blake studied her in the flickering candlelight. “I thought, perhaps, we could start over.”

She nodded, unfolding her napkin, but something about the tone of his voice set her on edge. It was too smooth, too civilized. She’d only agreed to let Della look after Taylor for the next couple of hours so she could find out exactly what Blake wanted.

So she could be ready to fight if she needed to.

“Why don’t you start by telling me a little about our daughter?” Blake suggested.

“Taylor,” Annie said, bristling at the word,
‘our.’
“Her name’s Taylor.”

Blake picked up a roll, breaking it in half. “If she’s eight, that would put her in second grade, right?”

“Yes.”

“She goes to school on the island?”

Annie nodded.

“Does she like it?”

“Yes.”

Blake sighed. “We’re not going to get very far if you only give me one word answers.”

Annie reached for her water glass. “If you think I’m going to share intimate details about Taylor’s life with you, you’re wrong.”

Undeterred, Blake took a bite of his roll. “We have to start somewhere.”

“Why don’t we start by getting straight to the point. Why did you invite me here, Blake?”

He looked down at the menu. “Should we order a couple of appetizers? What do you think of the grilled quail?”

“I didn’t come here to sample the appetizers.”

Blake signaled for the waiter and Annie gritted her teeth as he ordered the quail and a cheese plate for the table. She was here for Taylor. She needed to stay calm so she could find out what he wanted. If he was going to play games, she could deal with it for one evening.

He looked back at her, smiling as the waiter scurried away. “I’m sorry. Where were we?”

“We were discussing—”

“Right.” His smile deepened. “I remember.” Reaching across the table, he took her hand. “We were about to talk about you.”

She stared down at their joined hands. “What are you doing?”

“Changing the subject,” he said smoothly. “If you’re uncomfortable talking about Taylor, maybe we should talk about you instead.”

Slipping her hand free, she picked up her wine glass. What the hell was he up to? “What do you want to know?”

“How do you like living on an island?”

“I like it.”

“What about the café? Do you enjoy working there?”

“I do.” She took a sip of her wine. “It would be a shame if I didn’t, since I own it.”

Blake paused in the act of buttering the second half of his roll. “You
own
it?”

“Yes.” She wasn’t surprised he hadn’t made the connection between her and the name, Wind Chime Café. Like her mother, Blake had never taken her wind chimes seriously. She had made him one once, out of black sea glass. She’d found it a week later, smashed on the floor of his car among the crumpled fast food wrappers and dirty gym clothes.

Blake sat back, regarding her in a new light. “I’m impressed.”

“I’m so relieved,” she said sarcastically.

He smiled, raising his glass in a silent cheer. “Since we’ll both be business owners on the island soon, we should discuss strategies. I’m working on a deal to purchase a piece of real estate for my father’s company so we can build a resort there.”

“I know.” Sipping at the buttery chardonnay, which had probably cost more than her car payment, she could hear the click and scrape of every fork against every plate in the room. The low murmur of hushed conversations mingling with the hiss and pop of the fire made her want to whisper.

She was surprised how much she longed for the chaotic atmosphere of the café—Della’s pots and pans clanging around in the kitchen, the islanders laughing and gossiping in the dining room, the clap and clatter of her wind chimes out on the porch.

It was hard to believe she’d spent almost a decade of her life working in this type of environment. It had become such an obsession to be the most charming waitress, to provide the most impeccable service, to ingratiate herself to a clientele who couldn’t care less about her; she’d never taken the time to consider if this was what she really wanted.

Had she actually moved to Heron Island to open a restaurant like this? One where every patron was quietly sizing each other up? Where the waiters walked on eggshells and only a very small portion of the population could even afford the menu?

She set down her wine, taking a deep breath. “Did you have any luck convincing Will to sell?”

Blake nodded. “I’m expecting a call back from him tonight.”

“You think he’s going to say yes?”

“It’s only a matter of time,” Blake said confidently. “Is he a friend of yours?”

Annie smoothed her hand over the cloth napkin in her lap. There was no way Will would agree to sell the inn to Blake now, not when he knew Blake was Taylor’s father. At least that was one less thing she had to worry about. “It’s a small island, Blake. Everyone knows everyone else’s business.”

“But you won’t tell me yours?”

“No.”

“Because you don’t trust me?”

Annie sighed. “Because Taylor’s been through a lot this year and she doesn’t need you walking back into her life and upsetting things right now. I know this will be hard for you to swallow, but this isn’t only about you.”

“What could possibly happen on an island that small?”

Annie hesitated. “Nothing. I only meant…” She trailed off. Blake didn’t know what had happened to Taylor at Mount Pleasant. Even if he’d seen the reports on the news, he wouldn’t have recognized Taylor’s name or her picture.

Blake set down his wine. “What are you not telling me?”

“Nothing,” she lied. “Taylor’s overly sensitive right now. She doesn’t need any more stress in her life.”

“She’s eight,” Blake countered. “What could she possibly be stressed about?”

Annie reached for the bread basket, forcing herself to stay calm. “Life’s harder for kids nowadays.”

Blake narrowed his eyes. “Why did you move to Heron Island?”

Annie chose a roll from the basket, setting it on her plate. “To open a restaurant. Like I said.”

“But why would you pick an island, in the middle of nowhere?”

“Because the price was right.” She added a pad of herbed butter to her plate. “Does it matter?”

“It matters that you’re hiding something about our daughter. Did something happen to upset her? Is that why you moved here?”

Annie’s hand stilled on the butter knife. If Blake came back to the island tomorrow, and spent any amount of time in the village, he could overhear someone talking about Taylor. If he decided to type in her name to a search engine on the Internet later, he would get dozens of hits.

It wouldn’t take him long to find out the truth.

Wouldn’t it be better if she told him now, if she handled it face-to-face, instead of dealing with a potential confrontation in front of Taylor later?

Annie set down the knife. “We moved here six weeks ago because of something that happened at Taylor’s school in D.C.”

“At her school?” Blake’s brows furrowed. “You said she was in second grade, right? What could possibly…?” His face went pale. “You don’t mean…?”

Annie looked back at him, unable to hide the truth from her eyes.

“She went to Mount Pleasant?”

Annie nodded.

“The girl that survived…that was Taylor?”

“Yes.”

Annie watched the familiar range of emotions sweep over his eyes: horror, shock, anger, sadness.

When he was finally able to speak again, his voice was low and shaky. “I can’t believe I didn’t know this.”

“You had no right to know it,” Annie said quietly.

Blake stared at her, stunned.

“We’re doing fine, Blake. Taylor has her setbacks, but we’re doing fine.”

He reached across the table for her hand again. “I’m so sorry you had to go through this alone.”

I wasn’t alone.
Annie eased her hand free. She had no desire to be comforted by him.
I had Della. I had Shelley. I had Becca. I had Will.

The waiter came out of the kitchen with their appetizers and Blake waved him away. “Let me make it up to you. To both of you.”

“We don’t need your help,” Annie said. “Taylor needs stability. She doesn’t need a father who may or may not decide he wants to stick around.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Blake said firmly. “Tomorrow, I’ll look for a house to rent in the area. I was already planning to spend more time on the island working on the resort. Now that I know you and Taylor live here, I’ll make sure I’m the one overseeing the project.”

Annie’s fingers curled around the stem of her wine glass. That was the last thing she wanted. “How’s Emily going to feel about that?”

“Emily and I are divorced.” He held up his hand, showing off his bare ring finger. “Going on two years.”

Of course he was divorced, Annie thought. She wasn’t even surprised.

“Annie,” Blake said quietly. “I invited you here tonight to talk about our daughter. But I also wanted to talk about us.”

She tensed. “There is no us.”

“I made a mistake.”

“A
mistake
?”

“I was young and foolish.” Blake lowered his voice. “I’ve changed.”

Annie shook her head. It was going to take a lot more than dinner at a fancy restaurant to convince her that he’d changed.

“I married Emily because my parents expected me to,” Blake said. “I wasn’t in love with her. I was in love with you.”

Annie gaped at him.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight,” Blake said. “But at least give me a chance. Let me spend some time with Taylor. Let me get to know her in my own way.”

“Taylor’s not ready for this.”
And neither am I.

“I promise that I won’t mess up this time.” Blake took her hand. “All I ask is that you give me a chance.”

What choice did
she have? Annie sat on Taylor’s bed an hour later, waiting for her daughter to process the news that her father was in town and wanted to meet her. If Blake was going to look for a house to rent on the island, he wasn’t leaving. There was no way she could keep Taylor from him.

She didn’t believe for a second that he’d changed, but by agreeing to cooperate she could at least maintain control of the situation. He wouldn’t go near Taylor without her permission. She would supervise every meeting, every conversation. If Taylor was at all uncomfortable around him, then that would be it. No more meetings.

“I don’t understand,” Taylor said, hugging her stuffed animal to her chest. “Why is he here?”

“He wants to buy Will’s house.”

Taylor huddled deeper into her mountain of pillows. “Why?”

“Blake’s family owns a big hotel company. They’re hoping to open a resort—sort of a fancy hotel—on the island.”

“But where will Will live?”

“Will’s home is in California,” Annie said gently. “He’s going back there soon. You knew that.”

Taylor’s gaze dropped to the broom lying on top of her yellow comforter. “Where will he stay when he visits us?”

“I don’t know if he
is
going to visit us, Taylor.”

Taylor was quiet for a long time, and Annie wished she knew what to say. But what could she say? She was the one who’d allowed Taylor to spend time with Will. She was the one who’d allowed her daughter to get too attached.