Page 6 of Sea La Vie
“Yeah, it’s right next to the luxury resort they built a few years agoandour new state of the art hospital.”
I frown, realizing she’s being a smart alec. “If you don’t have a bandaid, that’s all you had to say,” I mutter. I let my head fall back into my hands, wondering how this day could go from bad to worse.
“So? The tire?” She taps her barefoot impatiently against the ground and huffs out a breath.
“Are you in a hurry?” I ask. I might as well see what info I can get out of her. She’s already mad; how much worse could it get?
“I’m always in a hurry,” she mutters. “I have places to be, things to do.”
“Is your family waiting on you for dinner or something? I can call a wrecker and you can be on your way,” I offer.
She sighs and rolls her eyes. “I live alone with my dog—never married, no children—if that’s what you’re asking. It’s been nice catching up with you, but I really do need to move along. I’ve got a shift at the diner, and I’d love to wash the smell of fish off me first.”
“Sure thing,” I say. I open the passenger door and search around my glovebox for the car’s manual. Surely there’s a diagram or something showing me how to get to the spare tire. I shove a couple napkins aside, and Liv's engagement ring topples to the ground. Thankfully, Lainey doesn’t notice, saving me from a conversation I’m not ready to have, and I scramble to pick it up. Sighing exasperatedly, she walks over to my car and begins unloading the spare, never once glancing at the manual.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Changing your tire,” she snaps. She gets to work, expertly maneuvering around my car. The sun is beginning to set, disappearing into the thick pines, and an owl hoots in the distance. I look for any way to help Lainey, but instead stand helplessly beside the car, afraid to get in the way and clueless as to what she’s doing. “Looks like you had a worse day thanme,” she says, her voice finally softening. “How’d this happen anyway?”
I shove the ring back into my pocket, stopping myself from throwing it into the wilderness on the side of the road. I’d love nothing more than to be rid of it, but my responsible side wins, remembering the cost of this ring. I’m also not one to cause a scene, no matter how often I’ve seen it happen in the Lifetime movies I like to watch before bed.
“A squirrel darted into the road, and when I swerved to miss it, I ran off the road,” I admit, feeling the warmth of my admission creep into my cheeks.
“Those squirrels will get you every time.” Her eyes cut to me and it’s the first time I’ve really got to look into them. A hint of mischief sparkles behind her green irises and her left dimple pops out, giving me a hint at a smile—the first I’ve seen since she hopped out of her truck.
She returns her focus to the task at hand, letting out a cute little grunt every now and then. She moves effortlessly around the car, and in no time, my spare tire is on my car.Who is this girl?I mean I know this is Lainey, the girl I spent every summer with for all those years. But who is she now, and how does she know how to change a tire?
“All done, City Boy,” she says.
“How do you know I live in the city now?” I ask, hope bubbling in my chest that she’s tried to find me.
She wipes the grease from her hands onto her cutoffs and smirks, then eyes me up and down slowly. It’s enough to make my face heat under her gaze. “Let’s see…the fancy clothes, a watch that probably cost more than my house, the impractical shoes, and we can’t forget the sports car.”
“I have paper towels in my trunk.” I grimace at the greasy handprints splayed across her thighs.
Lainey glances down then shrugs. “Nothing they’ve never seen before. It’ll be fine.”
I would be wrecked if the clothes I’m currently wearing got greasy. When I first became an accountant, I perfectly portioned out my paycheck each week until I had enough to curate a closet most designers would be jealous of. I barely suppress a shiver and reach around for my wallet.
She swats my hand away and swivels toward her truck then unties her long waves. She shakes them out, and the scent of vanilla and ocean water surrounds us. “Well…” she trails off. I’m not ready for her to leave.
“How far out are we?” I scramble for something to keep her right here.
Lainey points to a sign a couple hundred yards in the distance. The spotlight underneath illuminates its chipped white paint as it flickers. Most of the words are covered in Spanish moss and I have to narrow my eyes to make outWidow’s Wharf, NC. Population 1200.“Almost there,” she answers.
“I don’t remember that sign looking so depressing,” I mutter.
“The world’s most depressing sign for the world’s most depressingly named town,” she says with a shrug, then she throws her hand over her shoulder. “C’mon. I’ll follow you into town. Do you remember how to get there?”
I shake my head, although I do remember. I’m just looking for any way to stall her here. It’s been ten yearsand I’m not ready to let her go again so soon.Or ever again, a voice in the back of my mind says.
“Take a right at the only stoplight, and go for about three miles until you see a garage. Leave the keys in it, and I’ll take you over to Dave’s.”
“I’m actually staying at our old place,” I say. “Do you remember it? Right on the edge of town?” I consider the possibleconsequences of leaving my keys in the car, and Lainey notices my hesitation.
“Your fancy car will be fine.” She flicks her gaze up and takes a deep breath, as if summoning the last bit of energy she can for me. “And yeah, I remember. I walk by it every day. I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen into the ocean by now.”
“That bad, huh?” I ask.
