Page 16 of Love & Lattes at The Mermaid Cafe
Who knew the protection I’d put around my heart could be so easily unlocked?
“Wait.” It takes no time for Cade to reach my side, to take gentle hold of my arm. “Talk to me, Lena.”
“Why?” I stop. But only because I’ve got the Mermaid Café in view, as well as Serena’s statue. Both have weathered as much, if not more, than I have. “We’re on opposite sides of this issue.”
“Opposite sides?” Cade scoffs. “I know you care about the people who run businesses here. I care about them, too. I can see what they need. They need a good retirement strategy, maybe even a senior retirement complex here in town.”
I roll my eyes. “No one wants a high rise for seniors in Mermaid Bay. No one wants the businesses their families have run for generations to be demolished to make room for chain stores with no heart or personality.”
“How quick you are to judge.” Cade stares at the ocean instead of at me.
“I haven’t met your father,” I say in softer tones. “I don’t even know his name or reputation. But I know his kind. Men like him have been showing up here since before I arrived.”
“Driven away by eel pie,” Cade murmurs, smiling slightly, still looking toward the ocean.
I like it when he utters words only I can hear. I like that sense of intimacy. But I’m not a sell-out.
Cade’s gaze meets mine, a mournful look in his brown eyes. “What will happen to the Barnacle Diner when Dee can no longer run the place?”
“I’ll buy it,” I say. Chin rising.
“And who will you pass your businesses to when you’re too old to run them?” Cade’s question is barely above a whisper but those words strike me hard and fast in the chest.
In the heart.
I swallow thickly, eyes filling with unshed tears. But my tears won’t drop to the sand and make something beautiful, like sea glass. My tears will only impress upon Cade that I’m weak and vulnerable to his sales pitch.
Cade puts his arm around my waist. “That’s why we need to complete the tour, Lena. So that you and all the others know that I may stand for change but I’m not the devil.”
That, I think, remains to be seen.
Chapter Twelve
Cade
My dad doubts I can swing the deals necessary to make Mermaid Bay a viable option for development. That hurts.
But then again, so does Lena’s rejection. It’s like I’m being pulled like a piece of taffy, being stretched in two different directions. I want it all—my father’s approval and Lena’s affection. But they seem mutually exclusive.
Lena takes me to the Broken Oar, the bar on the boardwalk.
It’s a dive bar.
But it’s an atmospheric establishment, like the Mermaid Café. One end of the bar is the hull of a small fishing boat. The bar stools and chairs are in the seventies-style of captain’s chairs with solid wooden seats. Fishing nets made of multi-colored twine hang from the wall, threaded through broken oars. There’s a large tuna mounted on the wall. Open shark jaws on another.
A large, old man stands behind the bar, a captain’s hat on his bald head, a pipe in his mouth. Unlit, of course, given restaurant regulations. “This is the man on the tour, Lena?”
“This is the man.” Lena takes a seat on a bar stool. “Do your worst, Big Lou.”
I claim the chair next to hers. “Have you owned this bar long?”
Big Lou nods. “Thispubhas been in my family for six generations.”
“Pub? As in a British pub? You’re not going to serve me eel pie.” Not a question. I’m not open to another serving.
Big Lou rubs his large jaw as he studies me. “We call it a pub because pubs are where friends meet. But we don’t throw darts and we don’t serve eel pie.”
“Eel pie is only for the Mermaid Bay Legacy Tour,” Lena explains. She’s leaning away from me. Her distance and disappointment are like a sliver under my skin.
