Love In Logan Beach. Shirley Hailstock

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СКАЧАТЬ “I need you to come back and be the assistant manager at Thorn’s.”

      He was careful to choose his words and to let her know this was his store, not a replica of the one she’d left.

      “This offer is open for the next twenty-four hours. If you want to stop wallowing in self-pity and return to meaningful employment, my offices are in the building next to the store. Third floor.”

      He drained his cup and put it down. Then he took a slip of paper with the office address and a business card from his pocket and dropped them on the coffee table.

      “I truly hope to see you.” He’d lowered his voice to one of concern mixed with sincerity.

      Outside her door, David dragged a breath into his lungs. He gripped the stair railing and held it tight enough to splinter the wood. His body was so solidly coiled, he felt only a long run or a hundred laps in a pool would relieve the tension. Rosanna Turner had touched something inside him that roared and he didn’t like it. He’d never been in a place so devoid of life, watched a person move through air and not disturb it. David had seen soldiers who were shell-shocked, and Rosanna reminded him of them. He wanted to somehow restore her, force her out of the pattern she’d set and let her know there was a future. This feeling of protection was foreign to him, something he’d never experienced before.

      Yet, he’d found the spark of life in her when she accused him of not understanding what had happened to her and the people of Logan Beach. He hadn’t been here, had never been in a place where nature had destroyed life and property. He was usually the well-dressed attorney in court, seeking damage restoration for wealthy victims. When working his pro bono cases, which gave him personal satisfaction, they were usually related to personal injury by clients who were financially unable to afford his corporate fees.

      David felt bad for treating Rosanna unkindly. His parents didn’t rear him that way, but Rosanna needed to be kick-started. It was obvious she’d been pitying herself for a long time and someone needed to let her know that things would not change if she didn’t change them.

      David hoped that change would begin before the sun rose the next day. He felt Rosanna Turner was more than a depressed woman in a dingy apartment. She only showed a small amount of spark, but David felt it was there and all he needed to do was wait. She would come out of that shell and decide to rejoin the living.

      Twenty-four hours would tell him if his theory was true or false.

      * * *

      Rose moved to the window. Sunlight highlighted David’s dark hair as he stepped out of the building. He stood a moment, looking first left, then right. She did the same. There wasn’t much to see. Several apartment buildings, none of them in great condition, were separated by either demolished buildings or cleared, but overgrown, lots.

      The storm had happened two years ago, yet the devastation was still evident. Rose knew about it firsthand.

      David moved, catching her attention. He went around his car, shrugged out of his suit jacket, folded it carefully and placed it in the back seat of the luxury car. He opened the driver’s door, then looked up. Their eyes connected and Rose jumped back as if she’d been burned.

      A moment later, she heard the car door close. The engine purred to life and when she glanced down again, the car accelerated away. Letting out a long, slow breath, she turned away from the windows.

      The business card he’d left lay on the table, a small white beacon in a sea of dark wood. She lifted it between two fingers. It bore his New York office address. His cell-phone number had a red circle around it, a signal that he was reachable at any time.

      Rose dropped it next to the slip of paper with an address she recognized. It was the building next to the store. While working at Bach’s, she’d been in and out of it thousands of times.

      Twenty-four hours he’d given her. What would the Bachs think? Should she return? She felt disloyal, even though she knew it was irrational. The final meeting the Bachs held with their employees told them the sale meant Thorn’s would keep as many of them as possible. Rose didn’t expect to be one of them. She was management and experience told her that new management meant out with the old.

      She was the old.

      Go back... She heard the words in her head. Go work for the people who had capitalized on someone else’s misfortune? It was unconscionable. Rose turned around in a full circle. Every inch of her small apartment could be seen from any place she stood. She’d once been part of the mighty and her fall had been long and hard. David Thorn was offering her a chance to restore some of her former life—if that was possible.

      For a moment, the crisis she’d withstood for three days came back to her. She pushed it away, refusing to allow the thoughts to blossom in her mind.

      She needed something more challenging than working nights as a cage cashier in a local casino. But Thorn’s!

      Could she really go back there, back to the place she’d called home for so many years—a place that was only a shell of what it used to be?

      * * *

      The Jersey coastline stretched for a hundred and thirty miles, from the arm of New York to the tip of Cape May. Logan Beach comprised only twenty of those miles, including five miles of natural preserve.

      Rose walked along the water’s edge. Holding her loose skirt above her knees, she played footsie with the soft lapping of water.

      “Rose.” Amber Waverly sang her name and waved as she headed for her. Amber was her best friend. They’d met two years ago under dire circumstances. Together they had saved each other’s lives.

      Rose waved back and waited for Amber to reach her. Carrying their shoes, Rose and Amber walked slowly. The water was cold, but refreshing.

      “Glad to see you out of that apartment. What got you out?” Amber asked.

      “David Thorn,” she said, emphasizing his name.

      “Of the House of Thorn,” Amber stated.

      “None other.” She glanced at her friend.

      “How did this happen?”

      Rose heard the admiration in her friend’s voice. It irritated her, but Amber never worked at Bach’s, so her allegiance lacked.

      “He came by my apartment about an hour ago and offered me a job.”

      Amber hooted. “That’s wonderful. You are going to accept it.” She stated it as fact without even asking what position he’d offered her. “That night job you have is going nowhere and you know it. You want a future, someplace where you can use your experience and leave your mark.”

      Amber was a positive person. She had gotten Rose through the storm and she continued to try and push her to return to the retail business.

      “I’m having a hard time with it. It’s Bach’s. The store will have a new name and a new look. Every time I go through the doors, I’ll be reminded of how my life changed.”

      Amber jumped in front of her, took her shoulders and shook her. “Rosanna Turner, what is our motto?”

      “Survive, don’t let the bad guys win.”

      “Right.”

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