That Summer at the Shore. Callie Endicott

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СКАЧАТЬ quickly, Jamie took care of some household chores and dashed to the fruit stand. Deliveries were now scheduled for eight-thirty.

      By ten o’clock, the Mar Vista restaurant staff had picked up their order and she was ready for business. The sun was shining and seemed to promise a clear day, although it could change in nothing flat. That was one of the interesting parts of living on the coast.

      During a lull she discovered a cell phone under the edge of the trailer while tidying the area, the second since opening the stand. A customer had already claimed the first, and another had come by, saying his was missing and wondering if he’d dropped it there. Pleased, she phoned the number the man had left.

      “Mine showed up,” he said. “Darnedest thing, it slid between the driver’s seat and the emergency brake and was nearly invisible. My ten-year-old unearthed it while scrounging for loose change.”

      “I’m glad you found it.”

      “Me, too. I’ve lost three and didn’t want my wife to know there could be a fourth.”

      Jamie got off and checked the cell she’d found, hoping to retrieve its phone number, but the battery was dead.

      Drat.

      Then she remembered Zack Denning hunting through his pockets before using his vehicle radio.

      Jamie gazed at the phone speculatively. It wasn’t a gadget-packed iPhone, but a genius entrepreneur might be too busy for bells and whistles. She hoped the phone was Zack’s; he’d hate owing her a favor, however minor.

      After dealing with several customers, she dialed Mar Vista’s office.

      A woman answered. “Denning Enterprises. Trudy Lopez speaking.”

      “Hello, this is Jamie Conroe.”

      “Oh, hello, Ms. Conroe. How may I help you?” The woman’s voice became rigidly correct.

      “I found a cell phone at my produce stand and wondered if it could be Mr. Denning’s. He seemed to have lost something when he was here.” She almost mentioned it was when he’d tried to have her arrested for trespassing on her own property, but thought she should save her gibes for the man who deserved them.

      “May I put you on hold while I ask him?”

      “That’s fine.”

      “I apologize for the delay, Ms. Conroe,” Trudy said when she came back. “Mr. Denning did lose his phone and he’ll be right there to see if it belongs to him.”

      “That’s not necessary,” Jamie replied hastily. “I’ll send it with Gordon’s guys tomorrow. They can return it the next day if it isn’t his.”

      “It will be faster if he comes.”

      Jamie tensed. “I know he’s got another cell phone to use in the meantime—he contacted his lawyer at my house after he was out here.”

      “Yes, he does have a spare, but—”

      “So there’s no reason for him to come,” Jamie interrupted.

      “Nevertheless, he should be there in a few minutes. Thank you for calling.”

      The woman on the other end disconnected without letting Jamie protest again, and she stuck her tongue out, annoyed. The tables had gotten turned and it was her own fault—Denning must have wanted an excuse to come over, and she’d provided one. Owners of fancy resorts didn’t rush to a fruit stand because of a cell phone; they sent flunkies to do it.

      On the other hand, knowing he had ulterior motives could level the balance of power.

      She washed two baskets of strawberries and sat down to wait.

      * * *

      ZACK HAD BEEN deep in financial reports and purchase orders when Trudy came in and said that Jamie Conroe may have found his cell phone. The timing was amazing. He’d spent most of the morning mulling over how to approach Jamie. Somehow he had to get her onto the resort and make her understand what he was trying to do. He didn’t know what was keeping her in that particular spot, but getting her to move that hideous trailer from sight was a top priority.

      Despite Jamie’s protests to stop him from coming, his misplaced cell phone was the perfect opportunity. With luck there’d be a free moment when he could invite her to lunch or dinner to talk about alternatives.

      A young couple was at the stand when he arrived, dithering about whether to buy one or two boxes of strawberries, and if they should get organic. He admired Jamie’s patience as they posed a dozen questions and finally left with a lone basket of fruit.

      He gestured to the departing car with a smile. “Business would be easy if it wasn’t for the customers, wouldn’t it?”

      Jamie put the money away and shrugged. “They’re newlyweds. Figuring out how to buy things together is a part of marital adjustment.”

      It was a curious observation to make. According to what she’d told the sheriff, she was divorced and using her maiden name. Was she bitter? Relieved? Indifferent? Probably wise not to open that can of worms.

      “You were very patient,” he commented.

      “Granddad used to say couples have to learn how to be married. He saw it when they came and shopped here, and how it changed as they grew together.”

      “He sounds like a smart man,” Zack said, finding to his surprise that he meant it.

      “Very.” She reached behind the counter and took out a cell phone. “This must have fallen under the edge of the trailer and gotten covered up by the mat, but the good news is it didn’t get as damp as it would have otherwise. The morning dew can be heavy.”

      He flipped the phone open. “I appreciate your call. I’ll have to charge the battery to verify it’s mine.”

      “No problem.” She grinned wickedly and held out a bowl of gleaming strawberries. “You really should try one. They’re something special.”

      She had him at a disadvantage, and knew it. If he kept refusing, he’d appear obstinate and childish.

      “They look delicious.” He took a large one. The sweet taste burst in his mouth and his senses sharpened with pleasure. How long had it been since he’d paid real attention to the flavor of food? The ambition to build Mar Vista had taken over everything else. Even when testing menu items, he’d analyzed the appeal for his customers, rather than enjoying Gordon’s talent.

      Her eyes danced and she offered the bowl again. “As they say about potato chips, it’s hard to eat just one.”

      Swallowing his pride, he took a second berry. How should he introduce the subject of a dinner business meeting? If he’d wanted a date he would suggest it as a thank-you for the strawberries, or for locating his phone. But it wasn’t that kind of situation.

      “Please have dinner with me at the resort,” he said, belatedly realizing that lunch wouldn’t work because of her hours at the produce stand. “That way we can discuss things without disruption. I’m really СКАЧАТЬ