Page 26 of The Hampton Beach Café 5
“I don’t have to stand here and take this,” he said. “You clearly don’t understand! I haven’t––”
He trailed off under Kennedy’s glare. She pointed at the door.
“Get out,” she whispered.
FIFTEEN
With Clarkson gone, the three women took seats at the long table in the center of the floor while Alex closed blinds and headed to make them all a coffee. He looked desperately sad, and Frances couldn’t help herself––she rose from the seat she had just taken and joined him at the espresso machine.
As she arrived there, he looked over at her a little warily and her stomach dropped, knowing things still weren’t right between them hurt––but it wasn’t her pain she should be concerned with. It was his. He needed more than a tearful apology followed by a request for even more favors.
“I need to say something… I'm sorry, Alex,” Frances said sincerely, leaning her shoulder against his as she stood next to him. “I should have been honest with you from the start about what I was planning with the café. I was an idiot and now realize that keeping you in the dark was not only a mistake, but it was wrong––not telling you everything is just as bad as lying outright.”
Alex sighed and looked over at her. Smiling as he gave Frances a nod, he shifted his weight against her to make them sway slightly.
She could feel her stomach whirling, and she resisted reaching up to touch his face.
His expression softened even more as she rested her head lightly against him.
“I understand, Frances,” he said. “I was hurt and disappointed, but I know we're on the same side. And that we make a good team…”
Frances smiled gratefully, relieved that he had accepted her apology.
“Yes, we do,” she said. “Thank you, for everything you do… and for today. I really think that we need to expose him properly––he should pay for what he’s done.”
Alex nodded in agreement.
“Absolutely,” he said. “So, what's our plan?”
Frances smiled up at him, her eyes gleaming with determination––shedidhave a plan.
“First, we need to gather other victims of Clarkson's scam,” she said. “We know there are others who have lost their homes. Who knows how many people he’s taken in with his schemes? We need to reach out to them and gather as much evidence as we can––then the authorities. Or, maybe the authorities first?”
Alex nodded, working the espresso machine almost on autopilot.
“We can set up a meeting and invite them to share their stories,” he suggested. “We can also get them to gather any documents or proof they might have of their dealings with Clarkson––if any of them still have the fake letter….”
Frances nodded in agreement. “Great idea,” she said. “Once we have enough evidence, we can present a strong case against Clarkson… maybe help people set up a civil suit?”
Alex grinned. He was almost glowing with renewed purpose as he turned toward her and continued speaking.
“And we can get social media on board––turn his own favorite thing against him, as well as local news stations to spread the word and work up some support,” he added.
“Exactly,” Frances said. “I’ll make a list of documents and evidence we need to collect.”
There was a pause as he finished the coffees he had been making as they spoke and Frances let herself bask in the happiness of the moment––there was a lot to do, but with Alex’s forgiveness and Clarkson exposed, she felt like it was possible.
“You're amazing, Frances,” Alex said softly, his voice suddenly low and sincere. “I'm so grateful to have you back… You’re just as incredible as you were when we were kids––more so, even. I’m still upset, about the café, but….”
She felt herself blush as she looked into his eyes, feeling a deep thrumming sensation in her stomach. Frances knew there was a connection between them… but this felt like something more.
He slipped the switch on the espresso machine, silencing it. The chatter from Lucinda and Kennedy at the table faded into the distance as he turned back to Frances and stepped up to her. He was so close the buttons on his shirt caught lightly against hers.
“Frances, I...” Alex's voice trailed off as Lucinda's loud exclamation interrupted the moment.
“Everyone duck!” Lucinda almost yelled, her eyes fixed on the street outside the café.
Frances and Alex did not duck. Instead they turned to look at what had made her yell, and their eyes widened in shock. Frances saw Lucinda already racing out of the café towards a bright red, convertible sports car that had just parked.
