Amber pointedly. “Did she tell you Jack forced himself into her apartment last night?”
Jessie stood and gripped the edges of the desk with both hands. “Enough. This is my place of business, and business is the only thing that’s going to keep me sane today. It is officially declared a No Drama Zone for the rest of the day.”
Piper chuckled. “Does that work? Just declaring it?”
“Yes.” She pondered the absurdity for a moment before adding, “I need it to work. I have things to do.”
“What things?”
“We have new inventory to sort through, and . . . and if I could concentrate, I could probably tell you what else.”
“You’ve got Francesca Dutton at three o’clock,” Amber prompted.
Jessie scratched her head. “Who?”
“She’s the daughter of Stella Dutton. The woman who passed away? She invited you to come and look through her closet?”
“Oh. Of course.”
Francesca had called the store and described a wonderland of designer labels left behind by her mother, inquiring about whether Jessie might be interested in choosing a few things to sell on consignment. She’d refrained from explaining that Adornments was a rental boutique and that, despite her eventual hope of expanding into retail consignments, she wanted to wait until the store gained momentum. Perhaps in a year or so. But the opportunity had presented itself to dip a toe in those waters with Stella Dutton’s enviable closet, and she decided not to look a gift horse in the wide-open mouth.
“Every designer from A to Z,” Francesca had stated. When she added, “Armani to Zac Posen,” Jessie was sold. But with everything going on since, she hadn’t given it another thought.
When the phone buzzed, Amber snatched it up from Jessie’s desk. “Thank you for calling Adornments. This is Amber.” Jessie massaged her throbbing forehead until: “Sure, Danny. She’s right here. Hang on.”
She stared at the phone Amber pushed toward her, making no move to take it.
“Jessie,” Piper chastised in a whisper.
She clicked her tongue and surrendered. “Hello?”
“I won’t keep you,” he stated in that matter-of-fact monotone she hadn’t heard in quite a while. “I wanted to quickly tell you that Rafe made a couple of calls on your behalf, and an attorney named Tina LaBianco will finalize a restraining order against Jack for you this afternoon.” A pregnant pause left her wondering if he’d hung up. Then: “If that’s what you still want.”
“Yes, of course it is.” She scribbled the lawyer’s name on the pad in front of her and added, “I’ll call her right away.”
“Good.”
“Good. Well. Thank you, Danny.”
“Have a good day, Jessie.”
And with that, the line went cold.
“That was short and sweet,” Piper commented.
Jessie looked down at the unruly desktop in front of her. Just keep your eye on the ball.
“Are you ready to get to that inventory?” Jessie asked Amber as she returned the handset.
“Sure.” The jingle of the front door announced a more immediate need. “As soon as I tend to some customers.”
Amber hurried out front and, instead of following, Piper sat in the chair across the desk from Jessie and smiled. “Let’s talk about it,” she urged. “You start.”
* * *
Danny grabbed Carmen, his favorite of the three surfboards hanging on the rack, and stowed her under his arm. Zipping the wetsuit, he made his way across the sand. Frank galloped ahead of him, the Great Dane’s shiny harlequin coat glistening under the late morning sun. Riggs hadn’t waited on him, and Danny could see him bobbing atop his bright coral board a hundred yards out. They’d probably missed the best of the swells, but he’d take whatever wave therapy he could get.
Frank barked twice and followed him into the first few feet of foamy surf until Danny hopped to his stomach on the board and paddled through the channel to the outside. By the time he reached the lineup, Riggs had already caught his ideal wave and ridden it out so Danny didn’t have to concern himself with avoiding a drop-in. He simply headed for an ideal spot, sat upright, and watched over his shoulder for a rideable wave. One came along in no time at all, and Danny caught it just before the break. Anchor-heavy thoughts of Jack Stanton, restraining orders—and even Jessie herself—sank into the water behind him as he angled his board across the wave and rode it home.
Riggs had flopped on his longboard in the sand, face up to the clouds as he ripped a bite out of a massive sandwich. Danny laughed at Frank. The dog looked like a drooling soldier standing guard over Riggs. Instead of turning out for another ride, Danny grabbed his board.
“Let’s go in, Carmen.”
Just as he dropped the board, parallel to Riggs’s larger one, and sat down on it, Riggs extended the sandwich to Frank and let him take a huge, unruly bite out of it before taking another of his own. Danny winced slightly at the act.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he remarked to Riggs as he focused on another surfer riding just inside the curl, “I love my dog and all, but you’re not ever gonna see us swapping spit.”
“Eh,” Riggs replied with a wave of his hand, “it’s all the same to me. And if Frankenstein minds, he’s never mentioned it.”
Danny chuckled and shook his head.
“Hey, listen, my kid wants to go paddleboarding this weekend. Any chance at snagging the keys to your family’s mountain casa?”
“The last time you used my folks’ place in Big Bear Lake, you left without closing up the windows,” Danny reminded him.
“Yeah, but who knew that freak snowstorm was headed in?”
“Uh, anybody who turned on the news?”
“I’ll do better this time. So can we use the place?”
Danny glanced over at Riggs, still flat on his back, now cradling Frank’s head as the dog lay on his back as well, paws pointed skyward.
“Hey, you could come with,” Riggs exclaimed.
“Make sure the windows get closed?”
“That, and drive your old man’s boat.”
“Chop some wood, make sure there’s food in the house, that kind of thing?” Danny teased.
“Not a single one of those is a bad idea. What do you say?” With a second thought, he added, “Why not invite Jessie along?”
Danny blew out a sigh that mixed with a groan. “Yeah. Jessie’s not feeling me so much at the moment.”
Riggs
