With a sigh, I check my texts. A congratulatory one from Abbi full of champagne and fireworks emojis, and one each from my mother and Britt, with ten questions apiece.
And the one from Tasha that I’ve read no fewer than twenty times but never answered.
I figured three days and a spontaneous move across the state later, I would have already forgotten about it, but here I am, considering what to say.
Fuck it. It’s not like I’m still in love with her. Time fixed that. Time and Abbi—another woman I can’t have.
Hey, long time no hear. Enjoy your trip to Miami. I just moved to Mermaid Beach. Got a big promotion.
I send it before I can waste another second dwelling on my response. Why I felt the overwhelming urge to add that last part, I don’t know. Maybe because when Tasha and I broke up, she said I wasn’t going anywhere and fast.
Heavy footfalls pound up the stairs. “Nothing in there, and I need chow.”
As much as I don’t want to get back in a car, I’m curious to see what this town has to offer. “Yeah, fine. But I need to hit a coffee shop first.” I gave up a lot of vices, but caffeine was not one of them. The pressure behind my eyes warns me I better get my fix soon.
“They’ll have coffee wherever we go to eat.”
“No, they’ll have swamp water.”
“Dang, you’re whiny today. But fuck, fine.”
I pause to admire the view one last time.
“Pretty sweet, huh?”
“Idofeel like Cinderella.”
Connor snorts. “Yeah, if Cinderella sucked her fairy godmother’s dick.”
34.Sloane
“New girl’s been here two weeks and still doesn’t know how to clean the machines!” Frank hollers, his gruff voice thick with annoyance.
I scroll through new bookings, the coastal radio tuned to a comforting mainstream pop station playing in the background. “Aren’t you the one who trained her?”
“Yeah, and I don’t have time to run a remedial program.” He turns his broad frame sideways to move through the narrow doorway that connects the Sea Witch’s café to the rentals side, cash bag in his meaty grip. “Business is definitely picking up.”
“Yup. Ten new bookings came in this afternoon.” I tap my computer screen to show him the reservations for the floating tiki bar cruises. We have three custom chartered boats available, and they’re fully booked for Memorial Day weekend. “And we’re already getting beach chair and umbrella bookings well into next month.” For all the people who lug their own equipment in, there are still plenty who’d rather pay fifty bucks and not deal with the hassle.
Frank’s hulking form leans over my shoulder to read thescreen. He nods with approval. “We’re gonna be begging for the offseason by June.”
“Don’t I know it.” The warmer weather is already luring visitors to our white sugar sands and idyllic coastal vibe. Once school lets out? Mermaid Beach will explode with families. They’ll jam the roads with their cars and golf carts, create hour-long waits at restaurants, and fill the hotel and rental beach houses. Every local business will work themselves to the bone while earning enough to stay afloat for the remainder of the year.
“When are Skye and Rebel comin’ in?” Frank asks.
“Tomorrow night.” It’s the third season working here for the two college girls from Cincinnati. They’ll arrive in Mermaid Beach with their car loaded the day after they write their last exam.
“Good, ’cause I’m getting sick of making lattes.”
“But you’re so good at it!” I grin at his retreating back. At six five, wearing a perpetual scowl, and heavily tattooed with his Native Pacific Islander markings, Frank’s appearance behind the till usually causes our customers to stumble a beat. He doesn’t seem the type who should be inquiring about their dairy and froth preferences.
He answers with a grunt as he disappears into the back office. A moment later, the telltale beeps of the safe’s keypad sound as he deposits the day’s earnings.
Some business owners might not so freely trust their staff with the code to their safe, but Frank’s more than staff. He has been a fixture at the Sea Witch for sixteen years. He’s become a big brother and protector. I trust him more than I trust anyone else, and I lean on him a lot.
The door jangles and I look up to see Dave and Ted stroll in.
“Hey, strangers!” My face splits with a genuine smile. “What are you doing here?” These two travel from Louisiana every spring like migrant birds, here for the work and the fishing.Dave has managed Sea Witch’s beach equipment for eleven years, ensuring every last piece goes out in the morning and returns before dark. Teddy’s one of his crew—a tall, quiet guy who shows up every day and lets Dave do all the talking for him.