Zac stood and set his coffee cup on the tray for used dishes, only slightly gratified when Chris glanced over distractedly. At least she was keeping track of him. “Let’s go.”
“Nothing?” Luke got to his feet. “What kind of geek strategy is that?”
“Mine.” He led the way out of the shop, not looking at Chris again, not wanting to see her going all dewy-eyed over Mr. Canned Beef, as Luke had appropriately named him. That kind of torture Zac could do without. He’d thought he was so smooth asking her for a date. He was never using the phrase Dinner sometime? again.
“Are you going to ignore me for the rest of my life?”
Zac made a sound of frustration and stopped among the shaded tables and coffee-sipping patrons outside the store, swinging around to face his brother. “No, no, I’m not. I’m sorry.”
Luke peered up at him. “She’s got you, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Liar.”
Zac shook his head and kept walking. “You’re pissing me off.”
“Yeah? Where are we going?”
“Home to pack up dinner, then we’re going to the beach to eat it.”
“Beach in February. Cool.”
“I’ll give you about ten days to figure out why I moved to California.”
They passed a woman wearing tight jeans and a low-cut top with a push-up bra. Luke turned, lowering his sunglasses for a better look. “Dude, I figured it out already.”
* * *
THEY’D FINISHED DINNER—Zac in an only marginally better mood—and were sitting next to a bonfire on Aura Beach when Zac’s phone rang, making him tense and then instantly exasperated. When was he going to stop hoping that it was Chris calling? Chris texting? Chris emailing? He really needed to figure out a way to get this woman out of his head before he became unhealthily obsessed.
Yeah, probably way too late for that.
He hauled out his phone and broke into a grin when he saw who the caller was. Jackie Cawling, a friend from his years in the Peace Corps, in his late twenties. They’d both been assigned to Kenya and had dated for a year or so—long-distance, since their towns were miles apart. After their assignments ended, they’d realized their attraction had mostly been based on each other’s familiarity in a strange land, and they’d parted pleasantly. Jackie was still traveling, had never settled down and probably never would. Every now and then she’d call, occasionally even show up, and then disappear until the next time he heard from her.
“Jackie! Where are you calling from this time? Italy? China? Australia?”
“Much more exotic.”
“Bali? Cook Islands? Venus?”
“Even more out there. I’m in Los Angeles. I have a few weeks with nothing to do before I start a job on a llama farm in Peru and I’m sick of the city and craving the mellowness of the Central Coast. Want to see me?”
“Absolutely.” He couldn’t stop grinning. “You need a place to stay? My brother’s here, but he would love to sleep on the couch.”
“Hey.” Luke was indignant. “She better be totally hot.”
Zac covered the phone to whisper, “Incendiary.”
“Yeah?” Luke’s eyes lit up. “Couch works for me.”
“Thanks, Zac,” Jackie said. “It’d just be for a day or two. I have a friend with a cabin in the middle of nowhere on the beach just up the coast from you, and I’ll want to hang out there and do my hermit thing for a few days. Then I have some buddies I’m seeing in Santa Cruz and blah, blah, blah, on up the coast. I plan to hit Carmia on Saturday. That’s the seventh, I think. That okay?”
“That’s great.”
“Awesome. I can’t wait to catch up. You finished your master’s yet? Wait, of course you have. Last time we talked you were about done. So, doctorate now? Where are you applying?”
“Stanford, MIT, Columbia and Penn.”
“Oh, my—” Her familiar deep laugh made him smile. “What, you’re not trying any good schools?”
“Nah, wasn’t up to it.” He leaned back on the blanket, feeling much better. Jackie knew him about as well as anyone did. Kind of hard to play mind games or hang on to fake attitudes living in a remote African village. “So what about you, Jackie? Where have you been? What have you been doing?”
“I’ll fill you in when I see you, at great length. In fact, I look forward to staying up all night over cups of coffee the way we used to. However, I need to know now, since I am a gossip slut, is there a potential Mrs. Zac?”
He snorted. “That remains to be seen.”
“Ooh, I’ll want details.”
“Nothing to tell yet. Why, is there a Mr. Cawling?”
“Nope. Only temporary relief now and then for me. I won’t get married until I’m too old to travel. Then I’ll find you wherever you are and propose.”
“That sounds like a deal. I’ll see you Saturday, Jackie.” He hung up, warmth spreading through his chest, and felt himself finally starting to relax. Jackie was unique: a strong, confident woman, comfortable in her own skin, generous and dedicated to helping make the world a better place. If he had half a brain he’d fall for her instead of being crazy about a woman who had no idea who she was.
At least Jackie’s timing was perfect. He could use a friend, and he could definitely use a distraction.
* * *
SUMMER WIPED DOWN the counter at Slow Pour, even though it was already clean. Not much going on this morning. A couple of chairs taken, not exactly a rush at the counter. The café was doing well overall, maybe even a little better than when Eva had been here, but there would always be quiet times. Thank goodness.
If you asked her—which no one had and no one probably would—Summer would say that Chris was sorta losing it. She was still acting calm, certainly calmer than when she’d arrived back in October, all wound up. It had been fun watching her slowly relax over the next little while under the influence of Central California.
Then she’d discovered the Peace, Love and Joy Center and had made a typical newcomer mistake, thinking she had to totally submerge herself in their let-it-be philosophy, instead of just taking from it what worked for her. It was hard watching Chris’s constant struggle to battle her real nature. And also kind of funny, though it wasn’t very nice of Summer to think so.
But over the past few days, she’d noticed things starting to slide. Nothing huge, nothing that would interfere with business. Chris had forgotten to clean a portafilter on the espresso machine. She’d left sales paperwork out on the counter. Toilet paper hadn’t been reordered until they were nearly out. The type of mistakes
