Jilted Read online

  Sophie, startled, turned around. Mrs. Coventry, wearing a swim cover-up over a one-piece suit, stood framed in the doorway. She had tan, muscular legs, especially for a seventy-year-old. Sophie jumped to her feet, embarrassed. Who was she to just hang out in front of the woman’s front door?

  “Mrs. Coventry, I’m sorry. Did we wake you?”

  The older woman wore a large straw hat and enormous black sunglasses that covered most of her pixie-like face. She shook her head. “No, no. I’ve been up for hours. I swim first thing in the morning.” Her round vowels and slow pace were soft as a feather.

  “Good for you.” As she often did around petite women, Sophie felt suddenly like an Amazon.

  Mrs. Coventry’s mouth lifted into a smile that wasn’t exactly warm, but not unfriendly either. “You run The Oar. Hugh’s old place.”

  “That’s correct. Zane’s my half brother.”

  “I knew Hugh, of course. Everyone did.”

  “Seems like it,” Sophie said.

  “My husband knew him better than I. We moved here after Paul retired, and he and Hugh became good friends. They fished together or watched football.” Her gaze drifted toward town. “Paul died five years ago. Before Hugh’s memory failed.” Nico had shared his concern for Mrs. Coventry with Sophie. He thought she should go out more. Do things. Get involved with the community or make friends. Go to church. But after her husband died, she’d holed up in her house.

  “He got bad in the end,” Sophie said. “Before I could get to know him, actually. He was already lost by the time Zane and Maggie found me.”

  “That’s a shame. He was a fine man. A good person, genuine and without airs. Paul found him refreshing after spending most of his working life with men who thought they were much more important than they really were.”

  “I hope it’s all right that I’m here?” Sophie asked as she shifted from one foot to the other.

  “Yes, yes. Nico can have visitors anytime he wants.” She must have raised her eyebrows because her glasses moved up and down. “I realize he’s not a monk.”

  “Oh.” Did he have visitors a lot? Her stomach turned at the thought of how many women he would have brought up here over the past year. “It’s not like that. My restaurant and apartment burned down last night, and I needed a place to crash.”

  Mrs. Coventry ripped off her sunglasses. “The Oar had a fire?”

  “Yes. It’s gone. Burned to the ground.” Sophie tried not to tear up, but it was impossible.

  “How awful. You poor dear.” Mrs. Coventry’s eyes were a light green and intense, sharp. Eyes that saw through facades.

  “Thanks. I think I’m still in shock. Nothing’s really sunk in, other than the fact that I have no cell phone or purse or credit cards. Or clothes or shoes.” She held up one foot to show her Nico’s flip-flops.

  “Terrible thing to have happen.” Mrs. Coventry clucked her tongue. “I’m so sorry, dear.” She squinted into the sun. “I’m afraid you’re much taller than I am or I’d be happy to lend you something to wear.”

  “I’ll go into town and buy a few things later.”

  “Thank goodness you weren’t harmed.”

  “Nico rescued me.” She told the older woman the entire story of her rescue.

  With her hands over her mouth, Mrs. Coventry exclaimed, “What a brave, wonderful man.”

  “I think so too.”

  “Is he sleeping?” Mrs. Coventry asked.

  “Yes, we were up until four in the morning.”

  “I wondered why Nico wasn’t up and fussing over me to eat my granola.” Her green eyes flashed. “The boy’s obsessed with my nutrition.”

  “He’s very fond of you.”

  She placed her hand over heart. “Yes. And he’s a gentle soul—can’t stand the thought of anyone suffering.”

  “True.”

  Behind them, Jen let out a happy bark as she ran toward the house with the ball in her mouth.

  Mrs. Coventry’s gaze swept the length of Sophie, then returned to her face. “You’re Hugh’s daughter. No doubt about that.”

  “Do I look like him?” Sophie was always eager to hear anything about her father.

  “Your eyes and coloring, obviously. But there’s something in your spirit that makes you especially like him. He was always full of life. So curious and eager to help anyone who needed it.”

  “I’d like to think I’m like him,” Sophie said.

  Mrs. Coventry didn’t reassure her further. She wasn’t one to coddle, Sophie suspected.

  “Are you hungry?” Mrs. Coventry asked.

  “Starving.”

  “Well, you better come inside and fix us both some granola,” said Mrs. Coventry. “Nico doesn’t allow me to have eggs anymore. He’s like an old lady.”

  Jen dropped the ball and barked. Mrs. Coventry gestured toward the dog. “Yes, you can come too. Isn’t she the most adorable dog that ever lived?”

  “For sure.”

  Jen waited for them at the door, panting.

  Sophie and Jen followed Mrs. Coventry into the house. The insides were as dramatic as the exterior, with vaulted ceilings and shiny cherry floors and stark white walls with brown trim around the windows. They passed by a sitting room with a pale Oriental rug and formal furniture that looked uncomfortably stiff. In fact, the house didn’t appear to have inhabitants. Everything was in perfect order. Not a pillow or vase out of place. Like a museum, only with less art on the walls. In the kitchen, the pale gray granite countertops and dark-stained tables and trim were the only hints of color. Everything else was in white. An ornate chandelier hung over the island. Another hung over the table by the picture windows that faced west.

  Outside the windows, separated from the house by a smooth sand-colored patio, was the bluest pool she’d ever seen. She gasped at the sight. “Your pool’s so pretty.”

  “Thank you. Swimming has been a part of my life since I was a young child.” Mrs. Coventry took a bowl from one of the drawers and filled it with water from the spotless white sink, then set it on the floor for Jen. “Do you swim?”

  “Yes, I love the water. I surf, too.”

  “Surfing is in your blood, I suppose?”

  “I think so, yes.” Sophie watched as Jen slurped up the water from the bowl, splashing it all over the shiny floor. “Is this all right?” She pointed at the dog.

  “We’ll wipe it up when she’s finished,” Mrs. Coventry said. “Jen knows the routine.” She gestured toward a closed door. “The pantry’s there. I’m going to shower and clean up. Make yourself at home. Nico buys a silly amount of groceries for me, so help yourself to whatever you please. There’s an espresso machine if you’d like coffee.”

  “I’d love nothing more.” Sophie followed her gaze to the metal espresso maker. It was an industrial model, probably better than the one she had at the bar. The one she used to have at the bar, she reminded herself. Would insurance cover all the equipment they had to replace?

  She really needed to call her parents and Zane. “May I use your landline? I need to call my family. I didn’t make it out with my cell phone.”

  “Whatever you need.” Mrs. Coventry gestured toward the phone on the other side of the kitchen as she passed by. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  Sophie thanked her. After she let Jen outside and cleaned up the water, she made herself a double espresso and added a dollop of half-and-half she found in the refrigerator. Enjoying the scent that wafted through the kitchen, she inhaled and centered herself before making the call to her mother.

  “Hello?” Mom sounded wary, probably because this was an unfamiliar number.

  “It’s Sophie.”

  “Where are you? I don’t know this number. Are you at Nico’s?”

  Nico’s? How did she know that?

  “Did you stay the night with him?” The excitement in Mom’s voice caused her to sound slightly out of breath, as if she’d run up a hill. Which would never happen. Rhona Woods was more the tai chi and yoga ty
pe of woman. Mom thought running was the perfect metaphor for all that was wrong with their society. Too much running like hamsters on a treadmill instead of being in the moment.

  “Mom, no. I mean yes, but not the way you mean.”

  Mom seemed not to have heard the end of Sophie’s sentence, given the next thing out of her mouth. “Has he finally come to his senses and realized only a complete fool would pass you up?”

  “No, not yet anyway.” She flushed as she recalled how they’d fallen on the bed together and what she’d felt sticking into her belly. A twinge between her legs quickly followed. How could she be thinking about sex when her entire livelihood was in jeopardy? She no longer had a business or a home. Her sexual frustration should really be put aside for now.

  “Then why are you calling from his house? Sweetie, you didn’t sleep with him, did you? Please tell me you haven’t entered into something casual, because you know that’s not going to make you happy.”

  “No, Mom. I had to stay here because there was a fire at The Oar.”

  She heard Mom gasp and could almost see her pressing her hand against her chest. “A fire? Was anyone hurt?”

  “No. Everyone got out safely, but we lost everything.”

  “Oh, Sophie, no. I’m so sorry. Where were you when the fire broke out?”

  She realized now that she should have thought through exactly how much to tell her mother. Did she need to know how much danger Sophie had been in? Probably not. However, she would find out eventually, so it was probably best to tell her the entire story. “I was upstairs in the bathtub.” She shared the rest of the details, including jumping out the window.

  “That boy saved your life,” Mom said. “You know what this means?”

  “That he’s a brave hero?”

  “Yes, and now you’re bound together forever.”

  “Did you just make that up?” Sophie asked.

  “No, it’s a Chinese proverb. I think.”

  “Mom.” Sophie laughed.

  “How did the fire start?” Mom asked.

  “They think it was arson.”

  “But why? Who would do something like that?”

  “I can’t imagine. They wanted to know if I had any enemies, but I couldn’t think of any.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe there’s someone or something you haven’t thought of,” Mom said.

  “It’s probably unrelated to me all together. Arsonists don’t necessarily target a place for a reason.”

  They spoke for a few more minutes, with her mother trying to convince her to come home and Sophie laying out all the reasons she couldn’t. As much as she loved being with her parents, now was not the time. She needed to be here to help Zane.

  After they hung up, she called her brother. She hoped he’d pick up since the number would be strange. He did, answering on the third ring.

  “Zane, it’s me.”

  “Sophie, hi. I’m so glad you called. I was about to drive up there to see how you’re doing.”

  “I’m all right. You?”

  She heard him sigh. “I’m thankful no one got hurt. I talked to the insurance people this morning. They’ll process the claim for us to rebuild if we want.”

  If we want? Strange choice of words.

  “When can we start?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “We have to get started as soon as we can,” she said. “Nico said the guys will make us a priority. I say we shoot for a Christmas reopening.”

  “I talked with Brody this morning. He said you could move into their pool house until you decide where to go.”

  “You mean, until the apartment is finished?” She sipped her espresso and looked out at the pool. Jen had curled up in a patch of sun and appeared to have fallen asleep. She thought of her little apartment, and a wave of homesickness swept through her.

  Zane cleared his throat, as if he were nervous. “Here’s the thing. Are we sure we want to rebuild?”

  His question was like a sudden splash of cold water on her face. She’d been afraid of this but hadn’t expected it at the same time. “What? Why wouldn’t we?”

  “Maybe we should take it as a sign that it’s time for a change. You need to do a little living instead of working all the time. Have some fun.”

  “I don’t want to have fun,” she said. “I want to work at The Oar.” Not rebuild? How could he even suggest such a thing? “The place is an institution in this town.”

  There was a long pause from the other end before her brother spoke. “I went down there this morning. I wanted to see what was left, if anything. I had this weird hope that the surfboards Dad hung on the walls all those years ago might have made it.” His voice cracked at the end of that sentence. “But as you know, there’s nothing left.”

  “We’ll put up new ones.”

  “What about the bar? He made that bar with his own hands, and now it’s gone.”

  “We’ll make it exactly the same,” she said.

  “It won’t be the same because he didn’t make it.”

  “But Zane, we’re part of him. He’s in us.”

  “The truth is, I’m not sure I can handle rebuilding without Dad.” She heard tears in his voice, and the sound nearly broke her heart in two. “The Oar was Dad. His heart and soul were in that place. I hear him talking to me sometimes when I’m tending bar or back in his office. Even with the changes I made, it was still his place, his building. With it gone, I feel like I’ve lost him all over again.”

  “I understand,” she said. “One of the reasons I love working there so much is because it makes me feel close to him.”

  “Right. And is that a good thing?”

  “How could it be bad?” she asked.

  “Because you should be out having adventures, not living like an old man. He’d want you to have fun, Sophie. I know he would. Instead, you’re living the life he did. All you do is work and then drag yourself upstairs to sleep, then do it all over again. He never had the chance to travel or see anything. I don’t want that for you.”

  “I went to Europe after Sebastian.”

  “For like three weeks. And that was over a year ago now. When was the last time you took a day off?”

  She searched back through the summer, trying to recall. Was it possible she hadn’t taken a night off since May? “Spring and summer are peak times. You know that.”

  “I’m too busy with the brewery and my family to help as much as I should,” he said. “So it’s been left to you.”

  “I don’t mind. It’s a privilege,” Sophie said.

  “Sophie, I need you to hear me on this. The Oar doesn’t make enough profit for you to work as hard as you do.”

  “We’re doing fine. Profits are way up the last few months.”

  “Because it’s summer.”

  “I don’t have many expenses. I don’t need much,” she said.

  “The place barely makes enough to support you, let alone put anything away for savings.”

  “What are you saying?” A chill had settled somewhere deep inside her. He wanted out. She braced herself, knowing it was coming.

  “I want to sell the lot,” he said. “Let someone else have the headache if they want to open another bar or whatever else. You can take the insurance money and buy a house or take a long trip. Or something. Anything other than being trapped behind that bar every night for the rest of your life. You have a college degree in hospitality. You could be working for a big hotel, running events or catering at Kyle’s lodge, not pouring beer.” Kyle Hicks owned the new resort, which employed a lot of people. She knew he would find a place for her if she asked. But she liked running her own place. She liked being the boss.

  “But Zane, I love it. Every minute of it. I love this town. I don’t want to leave you and Honor and the kids, not to mention my friends. This is where I belong. Anything else feels wrong.”

  “You can work with me at the brewery full-time,” Zane said. “We can do more with the wine bar. Maybe start hostin
g guest winemakers for dinners.”

  “I want to rebuild.” She said it as firmly as she could. Technically, she owned half of The Oar. She should have equal say.

  “Why could a young woman as talented as you want to spend her life mixing drinks for tourists?”

  “Because I love it.”

  He made an exasperated noise, somewhere between a sigh and a sputter. “Well, I want more for you. A bigger life than behind that bar.”

  “I like my life just as it is. Half of the place is mine. What if I buy you out?”

  “You want it that much?” Zane asked. “That you’d go into debt?”

  “It’s all I have of him,” Sophie said.

  There was another long pause on the other end of the line.

  “Is that what this is about? Dad?” Zane asked.

  “Partly, maybe.”

  “You know, all I ever wanted when I was a kid was to get out of here and make sure I didn’t end up stuck here working my butt off every single day for no money. I never thought I’d end up running the damn thing. But then the dementia came and everything went to crap.”

  “But you love it here, don’t you?” she asked.

  “I do. Of course I do. Everything and everyone I love is here.”

  “Your worst fears are not mine, Zane. I crave a simple life. This is my life, not yours. You’re not responsible for me, you know.”

  “Seeing the ashes of Dad’s life work made me realize…”

  “Realize what?”

  “As long as The Oar was there, I could almost pretend like he was too,” Zane said. “And now it’s gone. Just like him.”

  “Oh, Zane.”

  “I wasn’t ready for him to go. I miss him so much. Every single day, I just want him to be here to see the kids and Honor doing so well. And to get to know you. I don’t know if I can see his place resurrected without him there to tell us what to do.”

  She closed her eyes. His grief was palpable even over the phone. “I’ll do it without you,” she said gently. “You can be free.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Zane, are you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m here.” Another pause. “Sophie, I’m afraid for you. I’m afraid you’re going to end up all alone like Dad.”