Page 77 of Second Tide's the Charm
“Oh, lighten up.” She hoists the sudsy bucket. “We’re happy for you. Right, Gabe?”
He nods. “Suffice it to say you two like each other in a touchy-feely, non-platonic way?” He looks to Hope, then myself, for confirmation, and when he gets it, slaps a hand on the bench. “Meeting adjourned?”
Marissa clears her throat, and we both pivot around. Her brows are up. “Just waiting on my thank-you.”
“For what?”
“If I hadn’t invited you here, you two would’ve never gotten out of your own heads.” She pokes Hope on the shoulder. “And you’d still be sloshing around in a lake somewhere.”
“Thelake,” Hope says, with emphasis, and I can’t help smiling. Her loyalty to the Great Lakes is as strong as my affinity for sweet tea. “And I’m the one who calledyouasking for a job. Not the other way around.”
Marissa waffles her hand back and forth like it’s a matter of semantics, but she smiles. “All right, so we’ll share credit for the discovery, as long as I get lead author status.”
Shaking her head, Hope turns to me. “Was she always this insufferable?”
“Worse. One time, she found a gavel in a thrift store—”
“I know you’re not about to bring up the gavel incident.” Marissa rolls her eyes.
“Wait, gavel, as in—” Hope mimes pounding her hand with a fist “—‘order in the court,’ gavel?”
“Yup,” I say. “She carried it around for an entire summer and used it to silence us whenever we said something contrary.”
Hope laughs. “Did it work?”
“You’ve met Iris. What do you think?”
Marissa pulls a morose face. “Didn’t stop me from trying.” She sobers and says, “Speaking of passing judgment, do y’all plan to go public with your relationship, or is this news strictly between us?”
“Just between us.” Hope squeezes my hand, and my heart fills like a sponge, soaking up the affection. “No need to expose our private lives that way.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Gabe says. “I mean, it’s your call, but as your social media specialist, I had worries over how we were going to break the news without things getting sticky. From the outside, you’re the boss dating the assistant.”
I hate hearing that, but it’s not a stretch to think people might jump to conclusions. “I already called Vicki at the start of the season,” I say, referring to our lawyer. “She made sure Hope officially reports to Marissa, and I hold no authority over her employment.”
“And regardless, it’s not like that.” Hope squats down to sort through a bucket of cleaning rags. “We have a history.”
Gabe quirks his brows. “A history you’re willing to share with the entire internet?”
“Internet users.” Hope glances up with a quick grin in my direction.
Marissa shakes her head, like she’s aware of my antics. “Yeah, but he’s got a point. We don’t want it to look like you’re dating the new hire.”
“She’s not new. We’ve been at this together since college.”
“Sure have.” Marissa smirks, and Hope tosses a sponge at her. But her smile turns into a twist of her lips. “And I know that, and you know that, but viewers don’t.”
None of the insinuations would have any basis. She’s not some summer fling. But strangers don’t care. They’ll jump to conclusions, whether for or against us. “All the more reason to keep things quiet. Our relationship is none of their business.”
No way will I let our relationship put her at risk. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure she’s not in harm’s way.
thirty
hope
I’m not a runner. I don’t take spin classes or do yoga. But I do love walks on the beach. Salt or fresh—the waters of my life have ebbed and flowed—but the shoreline remains a constant. Dark brown palm fronds are scattered across the sand, the only trace of the recent storm. Beach cleanup was a big endeavor, and last night I fell into bed exhausted.
This morning the wind is clean and fresh, and I’m filled with a sense of renewal that has nothing to do with the waterside and everything to do with Adrian. I wonder if lifting weights has become a way to clear his head, like these beach walks for me, or paddleboarding for Zuri, who’s currently awaiting my long-overdue call to catch up.
