Page 70 of Happy Harbor
“We’d better get to the restaurant,” Josie said, walking again.
“Josie, can I have a quick word with you?”
“I’ll go on in and get to work. Good to see you, Walker,” Diane said, turning left down the Riverwalk toward the restaurant.
“What’s up?”
“First of all, bravo on treating your mother better. I can see a big change in you.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“I was wondering if you’d have dinner with me tonight? Nothing fancy. We could even eat in the guest house.”
“Walker, I already told you...”
“Yeah, I know. But I’d like to chat about this event. If we can make it a big enough deal, we can save this place. Isn’t that what you want?”
That was what she wanted. She also wanted him, and that fact was annoying her. Josie’s way of dealing with things had always been avoidance. Avoiding situations. Avoiding feelings. At first, she thought she missed Craig, but surprisingly she didn’t. The thought that she’d almost married a man that she didn’t even miss scared her. How could she trust her own intuition if it had led her there? So, as much as she was attracted to Walker in ways she was never attracted to Craig, could she trust herself to get into another relationship?
She furrowed her eyebrows. “Are you trying to blackmail me into eating dinner with you?”
“How can it be blackmail if I’m offering homemade chicken and dumplings?”
Josie turned and walked toward the restaurant. “What time?”
“Six thirty. And be on time. It’s not like you have to travel far,” he called behind her. She couldn’t help but smile, but she didn’t let him see that.
* * *
Josie could barely keep her eyes open as she walked home. Her employees, including her mother, were still at the restaurant handling the dinner rush. She, on the other hand, was going home to eat dinner with Walker in her own backyard. So close to her comfortable bed, so close to a quick nap.
She knew it wasn’t to be when she saw Walker waving from the backyard as she turned the corner. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend time with him; it was more that her mind was tired. Trying to figure out how to save the restaurant she didn’t think she wanted was exhausting mentally. Plus, she felt bad that everyone else was working late while she had a handsome Southern gentleman making her dinner.
“Ten minutes on the biscuits!” he called over the fence between them. She held up her hand.
“I know. I can tell time, Walker.” Josie had always had a sarcastic sense of humor, and for the life of her, she didn’t know why Walker liked her sometimes. She could be snarky to a fault, but it didn’t seem to faze him.
He was handsome. She had to give him that. In his pale-pink golf shirt and khaki shorts, he looked like somebody’s really hot dad who spent all his time at the golf course.
She turned the key and walked into the house. Kendra wasn’t home, according to her last text. She was eating dinner with Scotty and his family, chatting about their prom plans. This was a new side to her daughter she hadn’t expected. What if she was a good kid all along and Josie just wasn’t giving her credit?
The cold air-conditioning hit her face as she entered the house. She wanted to curl up on the sofa with a good book, but she was also starving. Hopefully, Walker was a decent cook. She’d never met a man who could cook, so it would be a first.
Of course, it was hard to match her grandmother’s cooking. She never looked at a recipe. She didn’t measure a thing. The best Southern cooks didn’t. They just knew what to put in and how to make the richest comfort foods.
She walked upstairs and quickly changed out of her work clothes. They smelled like a mixture of catfish and pound cake, and it wasn’t an attractive combo. There was no time to take a full shower and wash her hair since Walker was expecting her in five minutes, so she used a wet washcloth to do a quick cleanup before dousing herself in body spray. Now she smelled like a catfish wearing perfume. Lovely.
A few moments later, she was walking across her backyard, heading to Walker’s place. The guest house was small, with just one bedroom, a bathroom, a small living room, and a kitchen. It was cute with its little front porch and gabled roof.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” Walker opened the door before she could knock, a pitcher in his hands. “You like sweet tea?”
“Who doesn’t?”
Sweet tea was a Southern thing, for sure. Of course, Josie hadn’t known that when she visited Boston for a business trip once. She sat down in the restaurant, hungry as could be. When the server asked Josie what she wanted, Josie said sweet tea. She remembered how the woman looked at her with such disdain.
“We have iced tea,” the woman had said.
“Well, is it sweet?” Josie had responded, annoyed as usual.
