New Point (8 page)

I give him my own remorseful smile, thinking of my parents. “You have protected and cared for me, Blake, given me a life worth living. But now it’s time for both of us to live more independently. You haven’t had a real girlfriend in years.”

He scoffs, “I date.”

That’s not a topic I want to dig into, I’ve seen tabloids with my brother and different celebutantes. I shift the subject. “And, so you know, I called Dr. Wilson’s office while you were at the grocery store this morning and left a message. I’ll make an appointment as soon as they call back.”

“Good,” he grumbles. “I’m not convinced that this is the right place for you, people aren’t so welcoming.”

“What do you mean? Everyone I’ve come across has been friendly and so pleased to have a new librarian. Sure, some were a little too curious for my liking but that’s small town culture, I guess.”

“This morning when I was food shopping, some dick rammed his shoulder into me as I was checking out and acted like I had walked into him. I’ve never experienced anything like it.” Though he tells the story like it annoyed him, Blake eats casually.

“Are you making this up to suggest I go back to Chicago with you?”

He shrugs casually. “No, it’s a true story, but more likely his attitude had something to do with the team winning the championship again.”

“Arrogant much?” I tease him.

All is right between us.

B
lake leaves early afternoon with business back in the city. He promises to call tomorrow. Normally we’d eat Sunday dinner together, but we’ve decided upon a new tradition while we live so far apart, Sunday phone calls.

That left me plenty of time to worry about my date with Miles. On Wednesday I thought the attraction between us was mutual. The turbulent stare he pointed my way last night was unusual from all of our previous interactions. What upset him? Then there was the way he let Lacey drape herself over him like a second skin. If he wants to date me, I won’t be okay with him dating other women too.

Pump the breaks, you’re getting ahead of yourself.
There was no evidence that he had done anything with Lacey. After all, this is only our first date.

An hour before Miles is due to arrive, I begin the process of dressing for our date. He said bonfire, so I keep myself casual. I choose a pair of faded skinny jeans with holes at the knees and a thin gray sweater that hangs off one shoulder. My straight blond hair falls around my shoulder naturally, and I wear only a hint of makeup – mascara, blush, and a coat of rose-tinted lip color. I’m sliding a small diamond stud Blake gave me for my sixteenth birthday into my right ear when the other gift he gave me glimmers in the mirror, catching my eye.

Wearing the ring makes me feel closer to my parents than living in the last place we were all together. It’s a nice reminder of where I came from and the promises of New Point.

I give myself one more once-over. Passable for a first date, I decide. Ten minutes separate me from Miles, so I wander into the kitchen to wait for him. Obviously I’m attracted to him physically, a sentiment I apparently shared with Lacey yesterday, but there’s something deeper drawing me to him. There’s the way he cares for Duke and that he’s a successful business owner, all checks in the pro column. Even still, those things seem superficial in comparison to the way my heart rate accelerates when he’s near, and not for anxiety-induced reasons.

Around him, I’m hopeful about the future.

When Miles is near me, blood courses through my veins, and energy seeps out of my pores. I experience a heightened level of awareness, and I’d be stupid not to investigate it further.

I hop up on to the countertop, scrolling through emails while I wait. The swarm of butterflies fluttering inside my stomach only grow as the time slinks closer.

Five minutes late, that’s not something to worry about, right?

Sighing to myself, I glance at the round steel clock mounted on the wall. Each tick mocks me, more and more time passing beyond the arranged meeting time. I bring up Blake’s contact. Should I call him? My thumb hovers over the send button, circling above it until I shove the phone away in disgust. Blake would flip if he knew I was going out with a man he hadn’t properly vetted.

What if something happened to Duke? Maybe there was an emergency at the bar. It’s possible that he forgot, or…

An hour later I’m done making excuses for him.

My stomach growls, reminding me I need to produce a meal since Miles evidently is a no show. I throw together a peanut butter and banana sandwich and bring it out onto the balcony. I place the plate on the deck rail, staring out into the ocean. The fresh air doesn’t reduce the knot in my stomach.

“Idiot,” I mutter to myself. Angrily I bite off a corner of my pathetic attempt at dinner. Did I really believe this guy was different from the jerks in Chicago?

Shouting drags my gaze from the soothing sound of lapping waves. There, on the sandy beach beneath Miles’ house, flames dance toward the sky in the center of a fire pit. Blankets, chairs and a small group of people surround the fire, and I hear the unmistakable sounds of laughter.

For a few moments, I’m frozen in place watching them in shock.

“Guess there was a better offer than a date with me.”

Stop!
I reprimand myself.
If the jackass can blow you off like that you don’t need him.

Purposefully, I finish chewing my dinner. I force myself to look away, not wanting to waste another moment wondering why Miles didn’t want to spend time with me.

Too bad I didn’t turn back to scope out the party one more time. If I had, maybe I would have noticed the man standing at the edge of the party, hands shoved in his pockets, watching me intently. If I had looked back, maybe I would have observed the defeated slump of his shoulders.

But I didn’t look back.

P
iercing blue eyes stare at me, unblinking.

“No fucking cops!” he screams. The eyes bulge with vehemence.

“Don’t, please, please, don’t,” I whimper from where I’m crumpled on the floor at his feet.

Gunmetal gray replaces blue when he points the barrel of the weapon between my eyes. “I’ll take you for them.”

My body jackknives up into a sitting position as my mouth falls open in a soundless scream. Sweat covers my back, making the sleep shirt cling to my moist skin.

Dr. Greene called my bluff again.

“Of course there’s still more work to do,” I mutter to myself as I push the duvet off my body, climb out of bed, and drag the sheets off the bed.

The nightmares are a frequent visitor, one I’ve been unable to completely escape even with the help of Dr. Greene. He calls them anxiety level indicators. During stressful patches, the dark dreams crop up and I’m reminded to slow down and evaluate what’s burdening me.

One thing’s certain – I’ll schedule Dr. Wilson’s first available appointment.

The laundry room in the lake house is on the second floor with an impressive view of the calm, blue waters and sandy shore. Once the remnants of my nightmare meet their fate with the tumbling washing machine, I pause to inhale a deep breath.

Miles blew me off. So what?

Yeah, I can’t even convince myself that the disappointment doesn’t sting. But I refuse to stay inside and mourn the minor loss when the sun’s calling to me. I leave my laundry and disturbing memories behind, heading into my bedroom to prepare for a journey into town.

I
definitely should have showered before I left my house this morning. Even if I didn’t shower, I could have brushed my hair, washed my face, applied some makeup, and cared about my outfit. Instead I forewent any attempt at making myself presentable and opted for high cut running shorts, a work out tank top (not that I planned on exercising) and a high, messy ponytail. I had the sense to wear sunglasses, not for vanity’s sake, simply because the sun was shining brilliantly today. The only jewelry I wear is my mother’s ring, still sitting on my middle finger.

At first my visit to Sally’s Coffee Shop is innocuous enough. The teenager behind the counter takes my Americano to go order and presents my coffee swiftly. A touch of milk and I’m on my way out the door when Meryl and Annie, the nosy twins who visited the library on my first day, halt me in my tracks.

“Good morning,” Annie, the more boisterous one wearing fuchsia lipstick again, says as she effectively blocks my path.

“Meryl, Annie.” I greet them with manufactured pleasantry.

“How are you doing dear?” Meryl asks gently.

I lift the cup to my lips, taking a small skip. For some unknown reason, both sisters’ eyes are riveted to my actions, specifically my hands. They watch me like they would a newborn baby, with fascination and close inspection.

What the what?

“Swell,” I murmur. Whatever they’re searching for, I’m not going to give them time to find it. I do my best to maintain a level of politeness when I disengage from the conversation. “Sorry to dash, but I’ve an appointment.”
An appointment avoiding your prying eyes.

They offer their farewells, though Annie’s face turns down in disappointment when I skirt around her to walk outside.

Why do those two have so much interest in me? The pace of New Point life is certainly slower than I’m used to, but there must be more to captivate them than me. And what was with the focus on my hand? I inspect my left hand, lifting the coffee cup to see what I’m missing, but there’s nothing there.

“Miss Zoe!”

My camper runs toward me, waving excitedly.

“Duke, how’s it going buddy?”

He tilts his face up to give me a gapped grin. “I lost a tooth last night!” he tells me proudly.

I squat down to meet Duke at his eye level. “Wow,” I murmur. “Pretty impressive. Did it hurt?”

“No, Mommy says I was brave.”

I tap the tip of his nose with my fingertip and wink, causing him to giggle. “I expect nothing less from you.”

“Duke, we should let Zoe enjoy her weekend,” his mom gently admonishes. I peer over his shoulder and nearly sigh. Etta’s watching her son with affection (and exhaustion) and Miles stands next to her, refusing to make eye contact with me. A muscle in his jaw twitches and his arms are crossed over his chest, giving off the
stay away from me
vibe.

Noted.

I force myself to my feet. My smile feels brittle when I greet them. “No worries, Etta. He’s fine.”

Etta gives me a pained smile, and then she scans her brother’s face who watches Duke with a steel expression.

What the hell is going on in this town? Did someone find out about Clarkes?
There’s no other explanation to the strange behavior from everyone.

“Lovely day,” I say dumbly.

“It is,” Etta agrees just as uncomfortably.

Thankfully, Duke interrupts the weird exchange. “Congratulations, Miss Zoe. I almost forgot to tell you.”

Miles appears horrified by Duke’s omission. Etta’s hand flies to her mouth, covering it before she says a word to explain what’s happening on this patch of sidewalk.

“Congratulations for what?” I ask slowly, mentally reviewing a reason for Duke to give me well wishes. It’s like the entire town has a script for today, and I didn’t get my part. I have no idea what’s going on, but something tells me Duke will let me in on the secret with a little digging.

“Mommy and Uncle Miles said you’re getting married to a very rich man.”

Splat!

The paper cup hits the concrete unceremoniously, brown liquid spilling out. “Oh!” I bend down, scooping my cup up and taking a moment to breathe and consider why anyone would think…

Diamonds glittering in the sun freeze my actions. Blue in Green. Blake. The ring. Small town gossip mill. Now I see why Meryl and Annie were checking my left hand, why Miles skipped our date.

That hurts. He must think very little of me, that I’d accept an invitation to go out with him when I have a fiancé on the backburner.

Friday night he was pissed off? Now I am, too.

Neither sibling has spoken; Miles rigid and unmoving, Etta giving me a slightly pitying glance. I toss the damaged cup into a trash bin and clasp my hands together, making a show of where the ring is positioned,
not
on my ring finger.

“Duke, thank you for the congratulations, but I’m not getting married.”

“They said you were,” he says, confused.

I place my right hand on his shoulder, the ring surely winking at Miles and Etta now. “Let me ask you a question.” I keep my tone light, teasing, and Duke’s smiling back, playing along though he doesn’t know it. “Would Uncle Miles ever ask your mom to marry him?”

“No!” he squeals through peals of laughter. “They are brother and a sister.”

“Oh, that’s right!” I say, smacking myself on the forehead like I didn’t know. “This ring,” I lift my hand to wave it in front of him, “was a gift from my big brother. It is a very special family heirloom that he wants me to wear.”

“Cool,” Duke says, but he’s looking longingly toward the ice cream shop, no longer interested in my story.

I turn toward his uncle and mother. Miles stares at me in bewilderment, and Etta’s glaring at him pointedly.
Ah, she was on my side. Good woman.