Page 140 of Share with Me

“It’s all right, Ivan.” She had a glow about her in the late afternoon light of the Atlantic. The sun was setting on the other side of the restaurant, but the pastel colors spread over the sky, darkening bit by bit as they sat there looking out.

“My friend Sebastian said he had to pay a premium price for this view,” Ivan said.

“I bet. It’s nice that he’ll make it all back with his James Beard Award.”

“Yeah. Youngest chef in the southeast. A lot of pressure there.” Ivan wondered whether Sebastian Langston was working tonight. If he was, maybe Ivan could introduce Brinley to him.

It kind of made Ivan feel important to rub shoulders withtitledpeople. The James Beard chef-owner of Saffron, for instance.

“Pressure can be tough. I know that from having been in sales,” Brinley offered. “Then again, he should be able to handle it, right, since he has God?”

It seemed like an innocent newbie Christian question, so Ivan tried to answer it. “Sometimes it feels hard going through the pressure, but if we keep in mind that God is always with us, He makes it more bearable.”

“But we still have to go through it sometimes.”

“More often than not.” Ivan stared into the distance.

Outside the cantilevered dining room, beyond the wintering sea oats, the sands of Jekyll Island stretched toward the Atlantic Ocean. The sea and sky and God’s creation carried on, oblivious to his dilemma. Dusk was setting in, but tomorrow, another day would cycle in.

Ah, try to think of something pleasant.

“We should come out here and have breakfast on the rooftop balcony someday.”

“Or we could walk on the beach to see the sunrise for free.”

Free?Ivan knotted his eyebrows. “Why do you say that?”

“A lot of things in life don’t cost money. You know that. God’s love is free, for example. His salvation is free. His creation here is also free.”

“Don’t turn philosophical on me, Brin.”

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I would love to walk on the beach at sunrise with you.”Every day for the rest of my life.

Ivan reached for his soda to regroup his emotions.

“That was a lot of stuff you ordered,” Brinley said. “You must be famished.”

“I ate lunch, if you must know. This is a feast to celebrate us.” He reached across the table with his right hand and held Brinley’s left.

Someday I’ll put a ring on that finger.“I can’t stop thinking of you.”

“I hope—never mind.”

“What, Brin?”

“Bad timing.”

“Say it.”

“Well, okay. Was going to say that I hope you think of God more.”

“Of course I do.” Ivan frowned. He was irritated at this new Brinley.

Pious. Questioning his every move.

Can’t a man just enjoy the evening without being reminded of anything serious?

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