Page 82 of Every Chance After

“So, where to?”

I twist in my seat to see him clearly, but hesitate to deliver the mini-speech I prepared. He’s more handsome than usual, which seems impossible. He’s clean-shaven and a hair above casual in his dark jeans, long-sleeved blue and gray shirt, and white sneakers. Even the air collected in the cab around him screams classy. He’s wearing cologne, a gentle mix of cedar and ginger that’s incredibly pleasant.

Everything about Grady is pleasant—a surprise, given his whole Grouchy Tripp reputation.

A second passes, and he says, “You look nice,” beating me to the words I want to say to him.

Ididmake an effort—my mission today required it. A sage green maxi dress that I bought for my honeymoon combined with a little jean jacket and white tennis shoes for a chic, casual vibe that hopefully saysI’m doing justfine, even if it’s not 100% true.

“Thanks. You, too. Welooklike we could be on a date,” I tease.

He huffs. “I don’t date, but if this were one, you’d know it. Now, where to?”

“Wait, you don’t date? Ever? Why not?”

“Don’t want to. Quit distracting me, and tell me where to go.”

“It might sound weird.”

“Marina, tell me.”

“Sunny’s Beach Market at Carolina Beach,” I blurt, determined to get it out. “I know it’s a haul. I’ll pay for gas?—”

“Why?”

“Ashe has something that belongs to me, and I want to get it back.”

“What is it?”

“Marnie’s Market Manual,” I explain, hoping he doesn’t think I’m steering our ship to a fool’s quest.

He puts the truck in reverse, backs into the Pike’s driveway, and turns left on the road.

“It’s an old-school Trapper Keeper notebook I scored at a thrift store,” I continue, “repurposed for all my best ideas. There are sketches and how-tos on every display I’ve created, plus sales ratings to show their efficacies, displays to try, design layouts for department floor plans, and how sales increased by putting things in one place over another, seasonal displays, promotions, marketing, everything I’ve pitched over the years, whether they agreed to it or not. It’s all my future ideas, too, like starting a customer VIP program, pick-up and delivery services, and lists of local vendors I’ve discovered. It’s ten years’ worth of brainstorms and light bulbs to make Sunny’s the best it could be, over three hundred pages.”

“Ashe took it?”

“I left it in my desk drawer at Sunny’s. I asked Cora for it weeks ago. She sent a box with my stuff, but no notebook. I called all of Sunny’s managers. No one’s seen it. I even had Wren snoop in my old office for it—no luck. The only explanation is that Ashe took it to help him with the new store. He’s used my ideas before to impress his parents, a few times in college for business projects.”

“Of course he has,” Grady huffs, rolling his eyes.

“I never minded helping him. It’s just… I’ll survive without the notebook, but why should I have to? They’remyideas.Myresearch.Mycreativity. Asking Ashe in person is the best way to get it back. I checked. He’s at work today, so I’m sure he has it. He’ll do the right thing.”

Grady doesn’t look convinced, but he turns left onto the main highway, heading toward the beach. “Have you seen him since the breakup?”

I huff. “I haven’t seen Ashe since the hospital.”

His brow pinches. “Wait, how did you break up, then?”

A heavy sigh plummets from me. “Cora.”

“Fucking figures,” he fumes. “You think a guy like that will do the right thing?”

“There’s always hope. I need to try, anyway. It’s been over a month. I’m about to start a new endeavor. He’s not the guy I thought he was, but I love him. Or I did. Seeing him will be like testing a battery to see if there’s any charge left. Does that sound crazy?”

“Makes perfect sense. I felt that way seeing Emma after we filed for divorce.”

“Any charge left?”

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