The One Real Thing
Page 89

I grinned as she laughed. “Good news. So who is he selling to?”
“Not a clue. But who cares? It isn’t Devlin! Oh, and he is furious.” She tee-heed.
Emery gave me a quizzical look as she watched me chuckle. I mouthed, Just a sec.
“Ooh, and another positive! George is coming back to town to deal with everything. You can give him Sarah’s letters.”
Sarah’s letters.
Wow.
Like everything about my old life, I hadn’t thought about those letters much in the past few weeks. I guessed because I didn’t really want to think about them or the connection I felt to the woman who had written them.
They were tucked away in a drawer in my room at the inn.
But George deserved to see those letters.
“That’s great.”
“Look, a guest just walked in. Gotta go. But spread the good news!” She hung up.
I grinned at Emery. “George Beckwith isn’t selling to Ian Devlin.”
She smiled. “That’s good.”
To be fair, Emery hadn’t seemed as concerned about Devlin buying property as everyone else, and I’d put it down to the fact that she wasn’t as big a part of the boardwalk community. I had learned that she and Iris were friends, but I worried that Iris and I were the entirety of Emery’s social circle.
“Bailey is ecstatic.”
“I could hear.” She laughed a little.
“Yeah, she can be loud,” I said, affection clear in my voice.
Emery gave me a rueful look. “I wish I had her confidence.”
I wanted to ask why she didn’t have that kind of confidence. She was smart, she owned her own business, and she was beautiful. What was there not to be confident about? Before I could slip in a sneaky, prying question, the bell above her door jingled and we both turned our heads.
My heart immediately shriveled up at the sight of Dana Kellerman.
As per usual she was stunning and perfectly put together. I’d learned she was a hairstylist at the best salon in town. For that reason (and monetary reasons) I hadn’t had my hair trimmed since I got to Hartwell.
Her cat eyes widened at the sight of me, suggesting she was just as surprised to see me, but I couldn’t tell if it was an honest reaction or not.
She sauntered up to the counter, giving me a sharp nod, before turning to Emery. “Skinny latte,” she said.
Emery nodded and proceeded to make her the latte.
The most awkward, awful silence fell between the three of us, broken only by the sound of the coffee machine.
“So . . . you and Cooper are for real after all?” Dana said suddenly.
I didn’t say anything.
It was a known fact that vipers could inject as much venom as they wanted depending on the circumstances. I wasn’t prey and I wasn’t predator, but I had the feeling this viper saw me as both. I didn’t want to help her out in deciding which one I was more of to her.
She sighed. Heavily. “Look, I’m not trying to cause trouble. I’m just saying, I get it now. You two are obviously solid. I mean, you’d have to be.” She threw me a wry smile. “Other women might have left over the whole kids thing.”
“Kids thing?” Damn. It was out of my mouth before I could stop it.
“Yeah.” She leaned in closer. “I know Cooper likes to tell people that my infidelity was the end of our marriage, but everyone knows the truth—I couldn’t have children and he resented me for it. And me . . . well, I was stupid. Instead of discussing adoption like he wanted, I let my hurt over his attitude get the better of me. But he was in the wrong, too. He . . . he’s not a very forgiving person and when you don’t act a certain way he . . . just shuts down. And kids . . . well, of course you know how important they are to him. He wants to be a father more than he will ever want you or me.”
“Your skinny latte.” Emery slammed it down on the counter, momentarily pulling me out of my increasing panic.
I’d never seen her glower at someone before.
Dana seemed just as surprised. She sniffed haughtily, threw a few dollars on the counter, grabbed her coffee, and walked out before anyone could say anything else.
“You’re not going to listen to her, are you?” Emery said.
“Is it true?” I said, feeling this growing, horrible tightness in my chest. “Did that happen? Between them?”
She gave me an apologetic look. “I wouldn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“I know she’s a snake . . . but . . .” I’d seen something in Dana’s eyes—a flicker of real pain. “There was a kernel of truth in what she was saying. I could tell.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions. Talk to Cooper.”
I nodded.
I would.
If only to get this sudden feeling of dread out of my stomach.
TWENTY-FOUR
Cooper
“I’m telling you I like the menu just fine,” Cooper said, trying not to get exasperated with his cook.
Crosby frowned at him. “So you’re sure you’re not telling people that you’re worried customers are bored with it? That it’s not fancy enough?”
Patience. Give me fucking patience.
“Crosby, this a fucking bar.” So much for patience. “I don’t want fancy-ass food on my menu and people don’t expect it.”
“Well, I heard—”
“I couldn’t give a shit what you heard.” Who the hell was riling his temperamental cook? “You add anything to the menu, you and Dean won’t be able to cope.”