Page 1 of Beach Vibes

1

Beth Nield had no choice but to admit that her sixty-seven-year-old aunt had a much more interesting love life than she did. Actual living proof of that sad fact sat at their shared breakfast table, eating a high-fiber cereal while watching the morning news.

Hunter was a still handsome seventysomething who’d worked for the USPS his whole life, retiring with a very nice federal pension. But his “real” money had come from playing the stock market. She had no idea where the two had met, but this was the third morning this month she’d found Hunter eating a hearty breakfast after a night of, well, nothing she wanted to think about.

Despite the fact that Beth’s divorce had been finalized just over a year ago, she hadn’t been on a date. As for spending thenight with a man, well, she couldn’t begin to imagine that ever happening. She’d been telling herself she didn’t need that sort of distraction and that relationships were more trouble than they were worth, but thinking about how happy her aunt was these days, she was starting to wonder if maybe she was wrong. Perhaps therewassomething to falling in love. Not that she’d ever had much luck in the romance department—her divorce was proof of that. Her brother hadn’t been successful in love, either. Maybe there was a genetic flaw.

Not anything she was going to think about this morning, she told herself firmly as she put her breakfast dishes in the dishwasher and called out a goodbye to Hunter.

While the Los Angeles metro area was known to be a nightmare traffic-wise, Beth had what could only be described as a glorious commute. She lived a mere twenty minutes from where she worked, and the majority of that drive was along Pacific Coast Highway through Malibu. Yes, there were plenty of annoying stoplights, and on the weekends, visitors clogged the roads, but it was difficult to mind when just to the west was the Pacific Ocean.

Although Malibu was known the world over, the LA-adjacent community was in fact much smaller than most everyone imagined. The actual population was less than twelve thousand people, with the majority of the businesses and houses clinging to the coast. There were canyons and hills that stretched east, but the area everyone thought of when they heard the name was within a couple of miles of the water.

Beth made the familiar drive with her windows open and the scent of the salt air brightening her day. The ocean was more lively today with whitecaps visible out to the horizon and seagulls circling overhead. A light breeze danced with the palm trees. This early, the beaches would be relatively empty, but by noon, they would fill with locals and tourists, all eager to enjoy nature’s beautiful offering.

When she pulled into her reserved spot behind Surf Sandwiches, the sight of the cheerfully painted one-story building filled her with fierce, happy pride. She might have bought the business out of a sense of obligation and a need to help her brother, but over the years, she’d grown to love the place. When she and Ian had divorced, he’d asked to buy her out of their house. She’d used the money to purchase the vacant storefront next door and had expanded her business, giving her a much larger eating area for customers and a remodeled kitchen and prep area, not to mention additional parking. The latter was a precious commodity in always congested Malibu.

She’d kept the surfboard rack and outdoor shower for her customers who came directly from the beach across the street, and had painted the outside the same bright, cheerful yellow she used on the logo. To make the remodel go more quickly, she’d closed for three weeks, giving her just enough time to second-guess herself and wonder if all her regulars would forget about their favorite sandwiches. But at the grand reopening, there’d been a line nearly around the block, and since the remodel, sales were up thirty-eight percent. Information that would make any small business owner’s heart flutter with joy.

She unlocked the back door and walked to the newly enlarged employee space. Big lockers filled one wall, with comfy sofas opposite. During the refresh, she’d added a couple of sets of tables and chairs and had upgraded the Wi-Fi. By giving up space in her office, she’d squeezed in a third bathroom—this one for employees only.

It was barely eight in the morning, three hours before the store opened, but Yolanda and Kai were already hard at work prepping for the upcoming day. Surf Sandwiches was open from eleven until seven. The biggest rush was from about eleven-thirty until one, with a second, surprisingly intense post-school surge, followed by a gentle wind-down until closing.

Yolanda, a pretty, petite brunette with more energy thanthe battery bunny and three kids under the age of ten, was her go-to morning person. Despite her tiny stature, she had a killer mom glare that could reduce anyone with attitude to submission in less than three seconds. Even more significant, she wielded the Hobart meat slicer with surgeon-like precision. Even Rick, Beth’s actual surgeon brother, agreed Yolanda had mad skills.

“Morning,” Beth called as she stepped into the kitchen. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” Yolanda smiled at her. “Kai’s a worker. I don’t mind when he comes in early.”

Kai, a twenty-two-year-old who’d walked away from family money to surf rather than go to college, beamed at the compliment. “Yo, that’s high praise. Makes me want to work harder.”

Yolanda winked at Beth, as if silently saying that was the whole point of the words. Then her humor faded.

“We need lettuce. When I went to get it out this morning, I saw it’s all rotten.”

Beth groaned. “Not the lettuce. What happened?”

Yolanda pointed to the small kitchen where the industrial refrigerator and restaurant-size stove sat. “You can go look for yourself. I salvaged a few bunches, but we’re going to need a lot more for the day.”

An unexpected but not unheard-of disaster, Beth thought as she went into the kitchen and saw containers of sad-looking lettuce sitting on the counter, the good bunches already off to the side. She calculated the damage, took a couple of pictures with her phone and then pulled the ongoing Costco list from a drawer.

While she ordered most of her supplies from various distributors, like most small restaurant businesses, she relied on a big-box store for backup. She added tomatoes to the list, then returned to the front to confirm they had everything else they needed.

She and Yolanda quickly discussed what she would be buying.

“Let me get in touch with my produce guy. I’ll head to Costco as soon as they open.”

“We’ll be fine,” Yolanda told her. “We know what to do.”

Beth went into her office, where she quickly booted her computer and the pay system she used. She found two large office lunch orders waiting and immediately forwarded them to the kitchen, where they would be flagged and reviewed. Once Yolanda determined what had to be made, the orders would automatically go in queue thirty minutes before they were supposed to be ready. The improved software had been expensive, but worth it. These days a lot of customers wanted to order and pay online, then just drop by to grab their food and get on with their lives.

She sent a quick email to her produce guy, complete with pictures. She’d been working with him for years and knew a credit would be sitting in her account by the end of day.

She helped with the prep work until it was time to head out with her shopping list. Getting to the closest Costco required a longer and less interesting drive than her commute to work. She listened to the radio and thought about all she had to get done when she returned to the store. Kai would make the cilantro, pumpkin seed and jalapeño pesto, which was usually her job. He was her newest employee, but he was a good hire. She was very fortunate with everyone who worked for her. Most had been with the store over a decade, and turnover was low. She paid well, offered great health care and did her best to be a fair and reasonable boss.

When she’d shut down for the three-week remodel, everyone had been paid their usual amount. She’d even arranged for a special evening at a local movie multiplex where she’d rented the smallest theater and had hosted dinner and a movie for staff and their families. Everyone had had a good time, and a few had mentioned making it an annual event—a reaction that made her happy. Tragically for her, that was the wildest her social life had been since the divorce. Except for work and her recent commitment to volunteering at a local food bank, she was kind of turning into a grumpy hermit, which wasn’t her nature at all.But she couldn’t seem to get motivated to, you know, get out and be in the world.

She missed having friends to hang out with. She missed being in a relationship, yet given how she was spending her days, she was very much stuck in a rut of doing nothing. Her aunt was warm and caring, but Agatha had her own life, what with her man friend and a new and oddly successful home business of crocheting custom bikinis.

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