Page 25 of Since the Day We Left

Miles leaned in. “What made you finally leave the job?”

She ran a fingertip along the rim of her glass. “Well ... I was in the middle of a presentation to forty executives, explaining our rebrand strategy, and out of nowhere, my hands started shaking. I couldn’t get the words out. I tried to push through, but it kept getting worse. Before I knew it, I was hyperventilating in the bathroom while my assistant called 911.” She paused, releasing a deep breath. “It was like everything hit me all at once. I realized I couldn’t keep living like that.” She looked up. “Sorry for the trauma dump.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I asked because I wanted to know. You’ve been through a lot, Wendi.”

“Oh, the saga continues. James filed for divorce two months later. Said he ‘hadn’t signed up for this.’ After that, I returned to Hadley Cove with nothing but Max and the dream of being an art store owner.”

“How long have you had Max?”

“About two years now. Got him during the divorce. He was at the city shelter. They found him after some kids had been throwing rocks at him. He was there for months and was scheduled to be euthanized. I happened to see him online and went in just in time ...” She shook her head. “Those eyes. It was like we recognized each other. Like we were meant to be together, you know?”

Miles nodded. “You both needed each other.”

“Exactly. He stayed by my side through everything.” A flicker of a smile passed across Wendi’s lips. “And now he apparently loves your dad more than me. Ungrateful.”

“Nah, but it kind of does look that way.” His tone shifted. “Thanks for sharing all that. I know it doesn’t always feel like it, but your best days haven’t even happened yet. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.”

Her eyes twinkled as they met his with a quiet intensity.

The moment broke when an elderly woman appeared beside their table. “Wendi Parker! Why haven’t you introduced me to your handsome friend here?”

Wendi grinned. “How rude of me. Ada, this is Miles. Miles, Ada Harrison.”

Ada sported an orange velvet blazer over an ivory silk blouse. Wide-legged pants, sleek black heels, a strand of pearls, and diamond studs. A vintage flower brooch perched on her lapel, while oversized sunglasses sat atop her wild, snowy-white hair.

“Mind if I join y’all?” She didn’t wait for an answer before sliding in beside Wendi.

“So, Miles”—Ada leaned forward—“where’s home? And what brings you to our town?

“Atlanta. Here to help my dad out for a while.”

“And who might your father be?”

“Arthur Dalton.”

“Oh, Arthur, the painter!” Ada clasped her hands together. “I see him nearly every morning during my beach walks. Always so focused, he barely notices me waving.”

“That’s him. I’m sure he doesn’t mean to—”

“Though I must say,”—she eyed Miles’s arms—“Arthur’s talented, but he doesn’t have those.”

Miles chuckled. “Thanks.”

She patted Wendi’s hand. “Good choice, dear. Good choice, indeed.”

Wendi blushed. “We’re just friends.”

“Oh, they always start as ‘just friends.’ And I might just make an appearance at your ‘Save the Shell’ auction Wednesday. Had no clue how much trouble your shop was in. If you’d mentioned it sooner, I could’ve made a call—gotten that rent lowered in no time. Or at least, rounded up more of the ladies from the club to visit your little art store.”

Wendi pressed her lips together.

As Ada rose, she circled the table and pulled Miles into a hug that smelled strongly of gardenias and potpourri. The embrace lingered well past the point of comfort and she gave his bicep a quick squeeze before finally releasing him. “Have any of the men in Hadley Cove even heard of a pushup? Apparently, Miles has.”

She turned to Wendi, wrapping her into an equally suffocating hug. “Don’t let this one get away, dear.”

As soon as Ada was out of earshot, they both exhaled a small laugh.

“What was that?” Miles asked.

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