Page 8 of Spindrift

“Shecertainly thinks she is.”

“Didyou adopt her from the tracks? I heard they closed a bunch last year.”

“Idid. Not last year, but a few years ago.”

“Youspeedy snoot of a doggo,” Stormy said as she handed Nell the biscuit.Snootof a doggo?Nell, however, didn’t mind the gibberish and took the biscuitdelicately. “Any treats for you?”

Emiliaeyed the pastries. “Maybe a scone.”

“Definitelya scone. Blueberry is the best. Maine berries. Last year’s, of course, but theyfreeze well.”

Emiliapaid and settled into a corner with her coffee and her scone. Both exceeded herexpectations. The scone boasted the perfect combination of moist and crumbly,and the coffee tasted like coffee smelled, unlike the disappointing stalebreakfast blend she’d found in her father’s cupboard. She rested her fingertipson Nell’s back. Food hadn’t tasted good for weeks. Months, if she was beinghonest. She closed her eyes to savor the sensation of her taste buds respondingappropriately to stimuli and took another bite of the scone, then a sip ofcoffee.Perfect.

Thelittle bell above the door broke her blissful reverie. Nell perked up, her tailwagging, and Emilia’s tenuous good mood burst.

“Stormy?”Morgan Donovan called as she pushed through the door, followed by a petiteblond in matching Carhartts and polo. Emilia tried to shrink behind her mug andwished she had grabbed a copy of the local paper as a shield.

“Stormy,your boyfriend’s here,” said Morgan’s companion.

Boyfriend?

“Hey,babes,” Stormy said. “Glad to see you’re still alive.”

Morganleaned on the counter. Emilia studied her shoulders, acutely aware of the musclesvisible beneath Morgan’s shirt.

“Barely,”said Morgan.

“Ican fix that. Drinks on me today.”

“Youdon’t need to do that,” said Morgan.

“Iknow.” Stormy smiled and blew the woman beside Morgan a kiss. “Morning,sunshine.”

“Sunshine”put a hand on Morgan’s shoulder and peered around her to examine the pastries.The casual touch made Emilia shrink further behind her cup.

“How’sbusiness?” Morgan asked.

“Startingto pick up. Morning rush is over, as you can see.” Stormy gestured at the café.

Don’tlook, don’t look, don’t look,Emilia prayed. Morgan turned. Emilia stared into the depths of her mug, hopingMorgan would get the hint. Being reminded of her most recent humiliation heldzero appeal.

Nellbetrayed her. She felt Morgan’s gaze hone in on the dog, and she ordered Nellto stay out of the corner of her mouth. Nell shot her an all-too-human look,then wagged her tail at Morgan. Aware that feigning further indifference wouldborder on rude, Emilia looked up.

Slateblue eyes met hers from across the room.

“Heythere,” Morgan said, an easy smile on her lips. Emilia’s stomach dropped justas surely as it had at age thirteen.

“Hi.”

“How’sthe boat?”

“Ipicked up some fiberglass repair.”

“Sunshine”glanced back and forth between Morgan and Emilia, her forehead furrowed. Stormyrested her elbows on the bar, revealing her generous cleavage, and gave Emiliaa considering look that turned the scone to a lump of cement in her stomach.

“EmiliaRusso,” Morgan said to her friends.

Damnyou, Emiliathought as Stormy straightened in recognition.

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