Page 27 of The Shell Collector
“I love that place. I’m keeping my dog there. It’s so nice that I get a discount for visiting him each day.”
“I’m glad you’re happy with the service,” Paul replied.
“Oh yeah,” she said. “Top-notch.”
“Well, if I hadn’t picked up that shell, I might not have made it through the planning meeting for my business and we might not be having this conversation. So why don’t you just let people believe what they want to believe?”
“Like some kind of divine intervention?” She made it sound sordid.
“I have no idea,” Paul said, “but what I do know is it gave me what I needed that day, and for that I’m thankful. Whatever it is, there’s no reason for you to cause a ruckus in here and ruin it for everyone else.”
She slapped the counter. “Well, Mr. Tug, I believe I’ve been called out for bad behavior in your establishment. I apologize.”
Tug’s wild eyebrows rose into his hairline. “Apology accepted.”
She dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the counter and stood. Then she stepped between Chase and Paul and put a hand on each of their shoulders. “Sorry I ruined your breakfast. Thanks for giving me a good place to keep my dog while I’m in town.”
And with that she walked out, not saying another word.
The family at the table in the corner clapped, and so did another couple at the counter.
Tug walked over and slid two platters in front of them. “Order up.”
“This looks good,” Chase said.
“Paul, if that was your version of flirting, I think you need a better approach, or a better wingman.”
“You offering to be my wingman?” Paul teased.
“Sure!”
“No, no, I was kidding. I’m perfectly fine alone.” He grabbed for the Texas Pete and sprinkled it over his eggs.
“No one is perfectly fine alone,” Tug said. “Ask me. I’m alone. I know.”
The waitress dipped into the conversation. “You’ve got The Wife, Tug.”
“I’m The Wife,” the bird called out from the deck. “Let me go!”
“What was that?” Chase sat taller in his chair, looking out over the counter to the outside area. “You some kind of pirate with wenches tied up out there?”
“No.” Tug cleared the dishes where the woman had been sitting and cleaned the area with a white towel. “The Wife is my bird. She’ll outlive us all. Just as much trouble as a woman, but with none of the benefits. She doesn’t even clean up after herself, much less me.”
“You call her The Wife?” Chase chuckled. “That’s priceless. What’s your real wife think about that?”
“Never had one.”
“Never?” That surprised Paul. Tug always seemed like a real charmer to him, always chatting up the local ladies.
“Nope. For a long time I was too hardheaded, and then the only one worth having won’t have me. Here’s some good advice: never settle for second best, especially in affairs of the heart.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Paul lifted his cup of coffee in a pretend toast. “Words to live by. I met my soul mate, but she married someone else. That was the end of that.”
“It happens.”
“I don’t fret much about it. I have an awesome company to run that’s doing good things. Keeps me busy.”
“Too busy to think about her?” Tug’s skepticism hung in the air.
