Storm Shells (The Wishes Series #3) (28 page)

I looked at her. “Yes, today she does.”

“She’s just not for me,” he said apologetically.

I should’ve left it at that, but for some reason I didn’t. “What would it take for you to change your mind?”

His answer – and the speed in which it came – astounded me.

“Two hundred dollars. And you pay for the date.”

Hiding my disgust was nearly impossible, but considering I’d started the conversation, I decided to back out of it quietly.

“You’re right,” I said, straightening my pose and backing away. “She’s not your type.”

June 3

Charli

Alex called me asking me to cover Nicole’s morning shift at the café. “Please Charli,” he begged. “Apparently she has a last-minute appointment in the city. She’s really left me in the lurch.”

I really didn’t mind helping him out but was curious to know why he couldn’t just cover her shift himself.

“
I
can’t do it.” He spoke as if the whole idea was preposterous. “Look at the water. The waves are outstanding.”

Nicole was pacing around the café when I arrived, antsy and eager to leave.

“Sorry I’m a bit late. I got here as soon as I could.”

That was lie. I’d showered, dried my hair and spent ten minutes drawing Ryan a mud map of how to get to the Tate vineyard.

“It’s fine. No problem,” she replied, grabbing her bag. “I should be back in a couple of hours.” I wanted to know where she was going but didn’t ask. Our renewed friendship was in its infancy. As a rule, that made sticky-beaking a no-no.

Business that morning was painfully slow. I put it down to the glorious weather. No one in their right mind would choose coffee and cake over sun and sand, including the café’s proprietor.

Reading every magazine on the rack killed a bit of time. So did chipping the nail polish off my recently manicured fingers. Not only was I bored out of my skull, but I was getting uncomfortable too. Perched on a stool is not an easy position to maintain for hours on end when seven months pregnant. I felt mildly depressed at the realisation that Gabrielle had been right. My body was on loan. And unlike Ryan’s Billet-doux buyout, this was a hostile takeover.

I got more edgy as the minutes ticked by. I would have been grateful to see anyone walk through the door, except Flynn.

I’d been at the café for over two hours when Lily flounced through the door. It was the only time I could ever remember being happy to see her.

“Hey,” she trilled. “What are you doing here?”

“Just filling in for Nicole for a couple of hours,” I explained. “What are you doing here?”

She leaned across the counter to whisper her reply. “I’m buying a coffee.”

I laughed at the theatrics. She’d made it sound as if we were doing a drug deal. “As far as I’m aware, buying coffee isn’t a crime.”

“It is if you’re one of Jasmine’s bridesmaids. We’re on a strict diet.”

I’d always felt a little sorry for the junior Beautiful. She’d lived her whole life under her older sister’s maniacal rule. I wondered if that might change once Jasmine got married. Maybe she’d be content just to rule Wade’s roost instead of the whole henhouse.

“Wade seems like a nice guy.” It was all I could think of to keep her talking.

Lily rolled her eyes, pulled out a stool and sat down. “He’s not very smart, is he?” she asked, scrunching up her nose. “I used to think
I
was stupid until Jasmine brought him home.”

I burst into giggles. The junior Beautiful laughed too, but I wasn’t certain that she knew why.

Hanging out with Lily wasn’t as bad as I’d remembered. Perhaps we’d all done a little growing up in the past few years. We spent the next half hour catching up, mostly about her brother. “Mitchell hardly ever calls,” she revealed. “Mum was furious that he didn’t come home for Christmas. Do you think he’ll ever come home, Charli?”

My thoughts turned to the beach bum in question. Mitchell was the happiest, most content person I knew. It was a frame of mind that most people spend their entire lives in search of. And he’d found it by living in a run-down old shack on a quiet stretch of beach in Africa. No, I didn’t think he was ever coming back.

“One day, I’m sure,” I fibbed.

She smiled, satisfied by my answer. “I wish I was like him sometimes,” she breathed. “Free and easy.”

I sighed. “Me too, Lil. Me too.”

The coffee I made her was a faultless piece of art, right up until she unloaded six packets of sugar into it. I expected her to fall into a coma at any minute. If that were to happen, I’d be back to being bored and alone. Thankfully, it wasn’t to be. Nicole showed up a few minutes later, only half an hour later than promised. She moved to the business side of the counter and made herself a cup of coffee. I was itching to ask her where she’d been but managed not to.

“Been busy?” she asked.

“Run off my feet,” I lied.

“Things are about to pick up,” she told me, taking a rushed sip. “A Merc just pulled into the car park. You ought to see the guy driving it. Freaking gorgeous.”

Lily ran to the window to catch a glimpse of the mystery man.

As expected, Ryan strolled through the door. He looked only at me with an expression darker than thunder.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Who knew making a simple business transaction in this town would be so difficult?”

I grinned. “I knew. I told you, too.”

I had a whole range of scenarios playing out in my head. Maybe he turned up to buy his wine and Meredith ambushed him, Mrs Robinson style. Or perhaps she’d taken note of the ridiculously decadent car he was driving and inflated the price of the wine. But Ryan was no fool. He wouldn’t pay a cent more than he thought it was worth.

“Driving all the way out there was a monumental waste of my time,” he grumbled, either oblivious or unconcerned by the two drooling women hanging on his every word.

“Why?”

“It was closed.”

“That’s it?” I couldn’t hide my disappointment. “That’s the story?”

“Hi,” said Nicole, picking her moment to break into the conversation. “I’m Nicole.”

Ryan politely extended his hand across the counter. “Ryan Décarie. Pleased to meet you.”

“Oh my God,” muttered Lily, still standing near the window. “There are two of them?”

Ryan spun around at the sound of her voice. He clearly hadn’t noticed her on the way in. Lily walked toward him, looking a little awestruck. It was too much to hope that he hadn’t noticed.

Ryan held out his hand. “Adam is my brother. And you are?”

“Lily Tate,” she replied, having no clue that her surname was Ryan’s magic word of the week.

“Oh,” he drawled, holding her hand longer than necessary. “You’re the vintner’s daughter?”

I glanced at Nicole, silently apologising for him.

“Oh, no. My parents grow grapes.”

Nicole dropped her head, trying to bury her giggle. I kicked her foot.

“Ryan is trying to buy some Tate wine to take back to the States, Lily,” I explained. I gave her the condensed version because at that moment, as she gazed into the prince of darkness’s eyes, I doubt she could’ve coped with anything more in depth. “He owns a couple of restaurants in New York.”

Lily frowned, shaking her head. “The vineyard is only open to the public on the weekends.”

“That’s too bad,” drawled Ryan, finally releasing her hand. “I was hoping to spend a great deal of money there.”

He was losing his edge. Lily didn’t give a damn how much money he intended to spend on their wine. All she wanted to know was if he was single and how long he was in town for.

Perhaps taking pity on her, Nicole took over. “So, are you planning to stay a while?”

“A week or so.”

“Adam came for a week and stayed for months,” recalled Nicole.

Abandoning Lily, Ryan ambled toward the counter. He smiled at Nicole, recognising that unlike the Beautiful, she was playing with a full deck.

“My brother’s reason for staying wasn’t business related.” I pulled a face at him. “I’m not that easily distracted. As soon as my business affairs are wrapped up, I’ll be out of here.”

“It’s a long way to come for wine,” suggested Nicole, still digging for information.

He smiled, undoubtedly impressed by her doggedness. “No place is too far to travel for good wine, Nicole.”

* * *

Now that Nicole was back to hold the fort, I had no reason to stay at the café. Once Ryan had extracted Meredith’s phone number from Lily, he didn’t either.

We stood in the car park discussing plans for the rest of the afternoon. Mine were simple. I’d whittle away the rest of the daylight hours at the beach; possibly taking pictures to compensate for the fact that surfing was off the agenda. Ryan’s plans were a little more hardcore. “I’m going to cut down some trees with your dad.” He spoke like an amped-up teenage boy, thrilled by the prospect of doing some damage.

I wasn’t quite sure what to make of Alex and Ryan’s budding bromance.

“Have you ever actually used a chainsaw before?”

His enthusiasm was contagious. “No, but I’m a fast learner.”

I tried to imagine Ryan wearing chequered flannelette. It was an unfair thought. Alex cut wood all the time and didn’t own a single flannelette shirt.

“You like Alex, don’t you?”

“I feel sorry for your father,” he retorted. “He’s surrounded by needy women. His daughter is a nutcase and he’s shacked up with an imperious French princess. He deserves a bit of manly downtime.”

* * *

I didn’t make it to the beach. When I got home, I flopped on the couch feeling tired, slightly unwell and huge. If I continued to grow at my current speed, I’d have to start borrowing Floss’s tent dresses to see me through the next few months.

Nicole arrived on my doorstep just after four. I wasn’t surprised; I knew she’d come for the lowdown on Ryan. Too lazy to answer the door, I called her in from the couch.

“What a day,” she announced wearily, flopping beside me.

I picked that moment to quiz her about her appointment in the city that morning. I wasn’t entirely hopeful of getting an honest answer. It highlighted the fact that I still didn’t trust her.

“I’ve been taking steps to keep the wolf at bay,” she said, making so sense whatsoever.

“What does that mean?”

“The restraining order I took out on Ethan expired. I needed to renew it.”

I felt slightly bad for Nicole. The whole Ethan saga had been an ordeal that never seemed to end.

“You’ll get through it, Nic. You’re tough.”

“I know I will.” She picked my phone off the coffee table. “New phone?”

“Not exactly. Gabrielle lent it to me.”

“Ooh,” crowed Nicole, swiping her finger across the screen to unlock it. “Maybe we can still check her emails.”

I settled back into the couch. “No, I’ve already tried.”

“Shame,” she huffed. “We’ll just have to Google ourselves then.”

I dreaded to think what might show up if Nicole Lawson Googled herself. ‘Lying, treacherous thief on the run’ came to mind.

“Oh my God, Charli!” She lurched forward on the couch, displacing me. “There are heaps of search results for you!”

I struggled to dig myself out of the cushions while Nicole read the page she’d opened.

“Adam Décarie and his wife, Charlotte, dressed in vintage Balenciaga,” she read in an over-the-top posh accent. “Ooh, there’s a picture.”

I wasn’t the least bit surprised by what she’d found. I’d attended a hundred boring functions with Adam. The level of tedium could always be determined by the number of times we were photographed at the door.

“Let me see,” I grumbled, levering myself forward enough to make a grab for the phone. I examined the picture closely. I felt so far removed from that life that I barely recognised the couple looking back at me.

Nicole shamelessly snatched the phone back. “God, you’re both so pretty,” she purred, scrutinising the small photo. “You look perfect together.”

“Too bad we broke up then, huh?”

Her hand went limp, angling the phone so the picture was out of sight.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

I shrugged. “I’ll recover.”

“Do you miss him, Charli?”

I put my hand on my belly. “Of course I do. I love him.”

“How can you love him after all that’s happened?” she asked sourly. “He broke your heart.”

“There’s still hope,” I muttered.

“You’d take him back, just like that?” She clicked her fingers.

She didn’t understand. No one did.

There weren’t words that defined the way I felt about Adam. I loved him no less than I did when we were together and happy. If he had walked through the door at that very minute, I would’ve grabbed him and gladly taken another five minutes.

“True love is still true, even if you can’t live it the way you want to,” I told her.