Summer By The Sea. Susan Wiggs

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meeting me for coffee tomorrow, though,” Linda insisted. “And then you’ll spill.”

      “Fine. I’ll see you at Pegasus tomorrow. Now, take your man and go home.”

      “All right. Rosa, I know how much you did to make this night special,” said Linda. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

      Rosa beamed. The look on Linda’s face was reward enough, but she said, “You can name your first child after me.”

      “Only if it’s a girl.”

      She and Linda hugged one more time, and the happy couple left. The music started up again, Rosa went back to work and pretended not to see Alex ask the tall woman at his table to dance.

      This was absurd, she thought. She was an adult now, not a wide-eyed kid fresh out of high school. She had every right to go over to him this minute and demand to know what he was doing here. Or for that matter, what he’d been doing since he’d said, “Have a nice life” and strolled off into the sunset.

      Did he have a nice life? she wondered.

      He certainly looked as though he did. He seemed relaxed with his friends—or maybe that was the champagne kicking in. He had an air of casual elegance that was not in the least affected. Even when she first met him, as a little boy, he’d had a certain aura about him. That in-born poise was a family trait, one she’d observed not just in Alex, but in his parents and sister, as well.

      The quality was nothing so uncomplicated as mere snobbery. Rosa had encountered her share of that. No, the Montgomerys simply had an innate sense of their place in the world, and that place was at the top of the heap.

      Except when it came to loving someone. He pretty much sucked at that.

      Maybe he’d changed. His date certainly appeared hopeful as she undulated her “Sex and the City” body against his on the dance floor.

      “You want I should break his kneecaps?” inquired a deep voice behind her.

      Rosa smiled. “Not tonight, Teddy.”

      Teddy was in charge of security at the restaurant. In another sort of establishment, he’d be called a bouncer. The job required a thorough knowledge of digital alarms and surveillance, but he lived for the day he could wield those ham-sized fists on her behalf. “I got lots of footage of him on the security cameras,” he informed her. “You can watch that if you want.”

      “No, I don’t want,” Rosa snapped, yet she could picture herself obsessively playing the tape, over and over again. “So does everybody in the place know the guy who once dumped me is here tonight?”

      “Oh, yeah,” he said unapologetically. “We had a meeting about it. We don’t care how long ago it happened. He was harsh, Rosa. Damned harsh. What a dickwad.”

      “We were just kids—”

      “Headed to college. That’s pretty grown-up.”

      She’d never made it to college. Her staff probably had a meeting about that, too.

      “He’s a paying customer,” she said. “That’s all he is, so I wish everyone would quit trying to make such a big deal out of it. I don’t like people discussing my personal affairs.”

      Teddy gently touched her shoulder. “It’s okay, Rosa. We’re talking about this because we care about you. Nobody wants to see you hurt.”

      “Then you’ve got nothing to worry about,” she assured him. “I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine.”

      It became her mantra for the remainder of the evening, which was nearly over at last. The bartender’s final call circulated, and the ensemble bade everyone good-night by playing their signature farewell number, a sweet and wistful arrangement of “As Time Goes By.”

      The last few customers circled the dance floor and then dispersed, heading off into the night, couples lost in each other and oblivious to the world. Rosa couldn’t keep count of the times she had stood in the shadows and watched people fall in love right here on the premises. Celesta’s was just that kind of place.

      How’m I doing, Mamma?

      Celesta, twenty years gone, would undoubtedly approve. The restaurant smelled like the kitchen of Rosa’s childhood; the menu featured many of the dishes Celesta had once prepared with warmth, intense flavors and a certain uncomplicated contentment Rosa constantly tried to recapture. She wanted the restaurant to serve Italian comfort food, the kind that fed hidden hungers and left people full of fond remembrances.

      She pretended to be busy as Alex and his friends left. Finally she let out the breath she hadn’t known she was holding. When the last patron departed, so did the magic. The lights came up, revealing crumbs and smudges on the floors and tables, soot on the candle chimneys, dropped napkins and flatware. In the absence of music and with the kitchen doors propped open, the clank and crash of dishes rang through the building.

      “Ka-ching,” Vince said as he printed out a spreadsheet summarizing the night’s receipts. “Biggest till of the year so far.” He hesitated, then added, “Your dumbshit ex-boyfriend left a whopper tip.”

      “He’s not my ex-anything,” she insisted. “He’s ancient history.”

      “Yeah, but I bet he’s still a dumbshit.”

      “I wouldn’t know. He’s a complete stranger to me. I wish everyone would get that through their heads.”

      “We won’t,” he assured her. “Can’t you see we’re dying here, Rosa? We’re starved for gossip.”

      “Find someone else to gossip about.”

      “We were all watching him with the new security cameras,” Vince said.

      “I can’t believe you guys.”

      “Teddy can zoom in on anything.”

      “Good for him.” Her head pounded, and she rubbed her temples.

      “I got this, honey,” Vince said. “I’ll close tonight.”

      She offered a thin smile. “Thanks.” She started to remind him about the seal on the walk-in fridge, the raccoons in the Dumpster, but stopped herself. She’d been working on her control-freak impulses.

      As she left through the back entrance, she wished she’d thought to grab a sweater before rushing out today. The afternoon had been hot; now the chill air raised goose bumps on her bare arms.

      Debris from last week’s windstorm had been cleared away, but broken trees and fallen branches still lay along the periphery of the parking lot. The power had been knocked out for hours, but the cameras had come through unscathed.

      Her heels rang on the pavement as she headed for her car, a red Alfa Romeo Spider equipped with an extravagant stereo system. As she used the remote on her key chain to unlock the driver’s side door, a shadow overtook her.

      She stopped walking and looked up to see Alex, somehow not surprised to find him standing in the dull glow of the parking lot lights. “What, you’re stalking

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