Page 8 of Note to Self
“It’s both, I think. I sold my flat this morning.”
“Wow, that’s great news and so fast too.”
Drew looks up from the edge of the sandpit. “Hey, you’re back.”
He says something to Willow, then steps out of the wooden enclosure. I give him the good news and what I want to do next. Has the land been listed yet? Drew seems to get the inside scoop on everything in the town.
We go back inside, leaving Merrick with Willow. I let Drew call the owners, whom he’s known for years. Honestly, he has the gift of the gab and could sell sand to the Saudis. I pace the large living room, trying not to listen in. I’ve given him the highest I can go, but he’s going to go in with a low figure and work up.
Merrick is in the kitchen, and I join him.
He holds up the kettle. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please, that would be great.” I pull out one of the stools and sit down, needing to calm my nerves. “Have you seen much of Trent this week?”
“Only a couple of times. We had lunch. He’s okay, chilling out and enjoying the sunshine. Why do you ask? Ooh, do you like him?”
“Um, maybe. Is that going to be a problem?” Will Merrick mind if I want to see where things can go with his friend?
“Of course not. Trent’s a great guy. But remember, he’s only here for the summer. Don’t get too involved. I’d hate to see either of you get hurt.”
He’s right. I’d forgotten about that. I thought that he’d made such an effort to be here that he was planning to stay. But he’s so gorgeous I don’t think I can stay away. The way he shivered when I’d only whispered in his ear has kept my spank bank full all week.
Before I can comment, Drew comes in, the look on his face one of disappointment. Oh well, there goes my dream. It’s not the end of the world. I can carry on as I am.
Then he bloody smiles a shit-eating grin. “You got it! They accepted your offer.”
“You little…” I stop before I say a swear word. Willow has very good ears when she wants to. “Why did you do that?” I laugh. “What price?”
“They accepted the first offer. I think they just wanted it off their hands. So congratulations, you have your land.”
“Thank you so much for doing this for me. We should go out for a drink tonight.”
Drew looks at Merrick, who nods.
“Great!” I fist-pump the air. “I can’t believe this is going to happen. Thank you so much, Drew. This is incredible, a lifelong dream come true.”
I leave them to their day. Maybe I can meet up with Trent. With a huge grin, I head to the little cottage by the dunes. Does he wonder why I haven’t sought him out? Merrick probably told him. Unless Trent didn’t tell him we met. Merrick looked surprised when I mentioned him, so maybe I’m right. There’s an interesting story behind Trent, and I look forward to finding it out.
But when I knock on the door, there’s no answer.
Part of the excitement and joy over buying the land ebbs away.
It’s been a week since I saw Merlin, and he hasn’t been in touch, so I guess I was right, and he was just flirting. Merrick and I have had lunch a couple of times, but nothing more. He’s a busy man, with the gallery and taking care of Willow. Not that I’ve been bothered about being alone. I’ve enjoyed the peace and quiet. Not having to listen to my parents pulling apart people they are supposed to be friends with or trying to get me married and providing grandbabies. Instead, I explore the town, the beach, and the hiking trails. I’ve spent my evening sketching. There have been way too many of Merlin. I’m a fool to myself. Two interactions with him and I’m already hooked. It’s going to be Marc all over again, a relationship where I’m the only one invested in it.
After gathering up my pencils and putting the sheets of paper away in a large art folder I’ve had since high school, I lock the cottage door and walk down the narrow road to the town, more specifically, the pub. I fancy a couple of pints and something to eat. And looking at a different set of walls.
The pub is busy, but not suffocatingly so. I make my way through the smell of suntan lotion and perfume to the beer garden. Young men and women here on holiday chatter and laugh while they scan the crowd for someone who takes their fancy.
I squeeze myself through the crowd into a much less packed bar. After grabbing my pint and a menu, I glance around the room for a place to sit. Luck is by my side as I spy an empty small two-seater table.
As I beeline towards it, I catch the end of a sentence. “To Merlin and his new venture.” I can’t see who said it. There are too many people to be able to search for him.
I sit down with my back to the wall, take a long drink of my beer, and peruse the menu. It’s good pub grub, not fancy or gastropub food. But there are plenty of establishments in the town to provide those kinds of meals. It’s a toss-up between the steak and ale pie, or a steak.
I’m finishing my pint when my phone vibrates in my back pocket. I fish it out of my pocket. My mother. My mood plummets.
Mum: WHERE ARE YOU?
