Before I can think better of it, I start typing a reply to him. This is a good idea. Brilliant, even. Unless it backfires. But it won’t. Probably.
Hi there Neighbor (for a few days)! How about a drink at The Salty Dog Beach Bar tomorrow night? I can meet you there at eight.
I have absolutely no doubt that word will get back to Asher that I’ve been seen with a guy, and he’ll stop grilling everybody about my dating life.
I smile at my brilliant idea. Sometimes, I amaze myself. After all, what could possibly go wrong?
fourteen
FRANCIE
The following night at eight o’clock sharp I’m sitting at the bar of The Salty Dog, aware that I’ve made way more effort than a date at a beach bar – even a gorgeously renovated one like this – deserves.
I managed to get five thousand words written by two o’clock, then went for a walk along the cliff, trying to think through the next scene. After that, I spent over an hour getting ready for this non-date that only exists because Asher is so convinced I don’t have a boyfriend.
And yes, he might be right, but I hate that he’s always right. Sometimes I’d like the man to have egg on his face.
“Oh wow, you have the most grounded energy I’ve seen this year,” a slightly-too-high-pitched voice says. I turn to see Reed Marks standing next to me. Or at least I think it’s him – he looks at least ten years older than the photo on his profile.
“Hello.” I smile. “And thank you.” I think that’s a compliment. “You’re… very grounded too.”
He pulls up a stool. He’s wearing white linen pants that billow around his legs – slightly see-through, and I’m almostcertain he’s not wearing anything underneath. But worse than that? He’s wearing those barefoot shoes with the individual toe compartments.
Oh no, I have the ick. And we’ve only exchanged one sentence.
“What can I get you?” Maud asks, eyeing him.
“Do you have chlorophyll shots?” he murmurs.
She gives him the side-eye. “We have tequila.”
He sighs, like that’s the most offensive thing he’s ever heard. “Spring water, please. Alcohol is very bad for the chakras.”
“I don’t know them,” Maud mutters, her brows crease. “Are they local?”
My lips twitch.
Maud brings over the water, and Reed unrolls a little hemp pouch, pulling out a glass straw. “Gotta take care of those dolphins,” he says, inserting it with care.
I glance at my watch. This is already a disaster. Maud catches my eye with a frown.
“If you need anything,” she says, emphasizing each word to me, “you call me over, okay?”
“Of course.”
“Skyler might drop by later,” she adds. “And Hudson.”
Reed closes his eyes and inhales deeply, then opens them like he’s about to give a TED talk. “This bar has weird energy. Probably the LED lighting mixed with unresolved trauma.” He glances at Maud. “Have you tried saging the air?”
She looks affronted. “It’s cleaned every morning. I think we use Clorox.”
“I know a great eco-cleaning company. Want the number?”
“I’m just the barmaid.” She backs away fast.
I turn back to Reed. If nothing else, he’s great character inspiration. “So what brings you to Liberty?” I ask him, awarethat if this gets back to Asher I at least need to look like I’m interested.
“I’m here for Eliana Markham.”