Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“It’s not every day when you can help catch a thief.”
The glass nearly slipped from my hands. “Sorry. What did you say?”
She dropped her voice, sounding eager to share. “Remember that robbery we talked about the other night?”
“Of course,” I said quickly, eager to get to the news.
“It was all a setup to catch the real thief. Turns out that the assistant manager at Sapphire tried to steal some diamonds today from Ruby’s stepfather. But they were fake. Too bad for her. Going to jail for a lot of nothing.” She didn’t even pretend to sympathize with Clarissa’s incarceration.
I gripped the edge of the bar, shaken by this revelation. “Who’s your guy?”
“Oh, just this very sexy Brit. Nigel Harris,” she said proudly. Holy shit. The other night she said a very sexy guy with a snake tattoo. I had no idea, of course, that Nigel was her guy. She never said as much, not that it would have made a difference in the investigation then. “He did everything he could to help catch Clarissa and Tristan. They’re both behind bars now. The police move fast in this town when it comes to helping Eli Thompson.”
Is there anything you might have said, inadvertently.
I was a world class jackass.
I’d all but suggested it was Ruby’s fault Clarissa knew when all along Eli, fucking Eli, had been orchestrating a game of diamond-encrusted chess. And none of that mattered—the jewel thieves, the embezzlement…I’d been callous, hurtful, and the real tragedy wasn’t letting the diamonds slip through my fingers, but Ruby—the best thing that had ever happened to me.
As Maris hustled over to a new customer, that celebratory smile on her face, I picked up my phone, ready to call Ruby. To say I’m sorry, I fucked up, forgive me.
But I stopped.
Was that enough?
Just to apologize?
No way. I had to do more than say I was sorry.
I had to get down on my knees and grovel. I’d flown off the handle all because of my past, my wounds, my own prideful emotional scars. That was no way to start a new relationship.
And I really wanted to start a new relationship.
I returned to my hotel room, devastated by the silence. She had a key, of course, so she’d already come by and taken her things. No more scarves, no more bikinis, no more lotions and potions.
No more Ruby.
She was gone. The room was empty. Like how I felt without her.
55
MIDNIGHT WAVES
Ruby
I spent the night at Devon’s, where he ordered a pizza and we watched a Webflix dark comedy together, taking guesses at who the culprit behind a teenage revenge plot was. He picked the gal in skinny jeans.
“Nope. It’s definitely the one with the flare pants,” I said, pointing at the screen.
“Because fashionable people are the bad guys?” he asked.
I eyed his ultra-casual clothes. Basic black shorts and a T-shirt. “Is that your way of saying you’re always the good guy?”
His jaw dropped open comically. “Burn,” he said.
I bumped his shoulder, savoring this camaraderie with my long-time friend. We hadn’t talked about Jake, and that was a welcome break. Mostly. “Well, if the shirt fits,” I added.
He sighed, over the top. “What I lack in fashion I make up for in…personality,” he said, then he cleared his throat. “But please tell me you don’t still wear skinny jeans.”
I gestured to my sundress. “I’m bikinis and sundresses all the time.”
“I guess you’re not a villain either,” he teased.
“Ouch!”
A few minutes later, the credits rolled and we realized we weren’t getting the answer to the mystery tonight. “We’ll just have to do a Zoom watch when you’re back next week,” he offered.
On the mainland.
Where I was supposed to be with Jake.
Devon must have noticed my frown, as he gently said, “Ah, and maybe you do want to talk, after all?”
I turned back to him, my heart still heavy. No point hiding it. I didn’t want to dive into the details, but I could use some comfort. “It’s just this guy,” I began. I didn’t give details about the diamonds or my stepfather, but I told him more about my feelings. My big, messy feelings.
He patted my shoulder. “Sometimes a good night’s sleep is all anyone needs to sort out a mess,” Devon said.
I let that sink in with a yawn, then I fell asleep on my friend’s couch, curled up under a blanket. Sometime in the middle of the night, I kicked it off. The sliding glass door to his deck had been left open, and a breeze drifted in, warm and tropical. I rolled over and sat up on the couch, hooking my arm over the side of it and staring out the open doors into the night.
When the beaches were quiet like this and the sounds of the day were folded up into sleep, the ocean was at its most constant state. A steady drumbeat against the shore. The ceaseless whoosh of midnight waves crashing into the sand. The pull of the tides.