Pieces Of Us Page 2

  “Hey, Lorne.” Griff smiled. “How’s it going?”

  “Did you see that?” Lorne asked, nodding his head toward Paxton’s Pier. “Looks like they’ve found a chump to buy the old wreck.”

  Griff turned his head to look for the sign that had been hanging from the pier for the last year or so. It hadn’t weathered well. The white paint was peeling from the wooden board, and some kids had drawn comically inaccurate pictures of male genitalia with black sharpies all over it. But Lorne was right, there was something new on there. Where the painted red letters that proclaimed the old pier was ‘For Sale’ was covered with brand sparkling new lettering.

  Sold

  “You know who bought it?” Griff asked, two tiny lines appearing between his brows as his gaze scanned along the old Victorian pleasure pier. Halfway along the wooden boarded walkway was the bright blue painted building housing Delmonico’s, an Italian restaurant much loved by the inhabitants of Angel Sands. It was closed up right now – but like everything else in Angel Sands, it would be bustling by lunchtime. At the end of the pier was a boat – Griff’s boat. The Ocean Explorer was a sixty foot ex-fishing boat, adapted by his father back in the ‘90s for whale watching expeditions. His dad had long since retired, and Griff bought him out, taking over as captain of the white painted vessel.

  “No idea.” Lorne shrugged. “But I’m thinking maybe it’s that guy who bought London Bridge and moved it brick by brick to Lake Havasu. If not him, somebody just as crazy.”

  Griff’s lips twitched as he grabbed his board.

  As the two of them walked up the sand toward Lorne’s surf shop, the older man asked, “How are your folks?” Lorne was in the process of opening up, the canopy that covered the surfboards and racks of clothes already extended. Next door was Déjà Brew, the coffee shop owned by Griff’s friends, Ally and Nate. They were outside unstacking chairs. When they saw him and Lorne, they lifted their hands in a wave.

  “Good, I think.” Griff shrugged. Since his mom and dad retired and moved to a community in Florida, he only heard from them occasionally. That was the way he liked it. He’d suffered too many years of their on-again off-again relationship to want any more communication than that.

  “Tell them I say hi when you speak to them next.”

  “I will.” Griff nodded, and headed along the golden sand toward the pier.

  After washing himself off in the showers by the boardwalk, and storing his board and suit in the lock up shed that came with his boat mooring, Griff ambled up the wooden pier, the smile slipping from his face when he saw a woman outside of Delmonico’s.

  Not any woman. Carla. The daughter of the owner, and the woman he’d made the mistake of having a fling with a while ago.

  Except she’d thought it was more than a fling. He felt the skin at the back of his neck prickle.

  “Hey.” Griff forced his face into a smile. “I didn’t know you were back in town.”

  “I got back last week.” Carla had left Angel Sands suddenly last year, a few weeks after Griff had told her he didn’t want to be anything more than friends. According to local gossip, she’d spent some time with family in Sicily, then stayed with her brother a few towns over, in White City, for a while.

  It had been a welcome relief not to see her accusing eyes wherever he went in town. Now it looked as though they were back.

  Never mix business and pleasure. He’d learned that lesson well.

  “Yeah, I’m back.” She didn’t return his smile. “Dad asked me to open up for him. He’s upset about the pier. Do you know anything about it?”

  “Just what you do. I saw the sign.” He shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out more in due time.”

  “That’s so typical of you.” She shook her head. “Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky. Maybe you should be more like Dad and be calling around, trying to find out who bought the place.”

  “It’ll be some investment firm.” Griff tried to ignore the dirty look she was sending him. He knew it had nothing to do with the pier or her dad and everything to do with the fact he’d tried to let her down gently when she asked to be his girlfriend. Yeah, he’d hurt her, but he hadn’t meant to. He’d believed her when she agreed that they weren’t going to be anything more than casual.

  Relationships were complicated and he was an easy-going man.

  “I’ll call your dad later,” he told Carla, backing up toward his boat. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “Whatever,” she snapped, and turned on her high heels. “Go play with the fish like you always do.”

  Griff bit down a grin at her description of his job. The fish he chased weighed about ten thousand pounds and could kill a human with ease. But if it made her feel better to have the last word, he was good with that.

  Life was too short to worry about things. Or to spend time with people you didn’t want to.

  He just wished everybody else felt the same way.

  * * *

  “So you’re really going through with it?” Lydia asked Autumn as they waited for their father to join them for lunch a week later. The restaurant his assistant, Annabelle, had booked was crammed full of office workers, situated in the heart of the financial district of New York.

  “I really am.” Autumn nodded. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

  “Hell yes. But in the best kind of way.” Lydia grinned. “It’s meant to be, right? You get rid of a business with your ex’s name on it, then buy one with your own name. Paxton’s Pier. It’s perfect. And completely unlike you.” Her eyes sparkled. “Dad’s gonna have a fit.”

  “That’s why you’re here, for protection,” Autumn said dryly.

  “Nope. I’m here to see his face.” Lydia took a sip of her sparkling water. “I should take a photo for posterity.”

  Lydia was right. Making an investment like this without thinking through all the consequences was completely the opposite to something Autumn would usually do. She was the sensible older sister. A businesswoman. Not somebody who’d buy a pier on the other side of the country without even seeing it.

  Yet, since she’d kicked the hangover last week, and then spoke to the owners, she’d felt a fire in the pit of her belly that hadn’t been there for years. Excitement mixed with trepidation, but more than anything, she felt alive. Ready to start this new life everybody kept talking about.

  “Here, take a look at it,” Autumn said, passing her phone to Lydia. She’d spent the last week researching the area, talking to her lawyer, and making plans. The pier was situated in a small beach town on the Pacific Coast, around a two hour drive from Los Angeles. And it had recently benefited from a lot of investment, including a new resort being built less than a mile to the north.

  The pier itself was a little run down, but with the cash injection and a good business plan she knew she could make it profitable.

  “And you’re moving there?”

  “That’s the plan. Until I get it up and running, at least. Then I’ll bring in a manager.” Another thing it had going for it. Twenty-eight hundred miles away from Manhattan. And since she’d spent the last week either bumping into Josh, or mutual friends who’d decided to be on his side, moving seemed like a good thing right now.

  “I’m late,” their dad said, breezing into the restaurant. He didn’t look the least bit sorry about it. People turned to stare as he made his way to their table, his hair perfectly coiffed, his suit expertly tailored. He’d always been the kind of man to turn heads. “Just ice water and a salad for me,” he said to the waiter before he even sat down. “And can you bring it out quickly? I have another meeting in half an hour.”

  Lydia’s eyes met Autumn’s, and she bit down a smile. “I guess we should order, too,” she said. “And since there isn’t much time, Autumn has something to tell you.”

  “She does?” He frowned. “Is it about Josh?”

  Lydia kicked Autumn under the table. “No, it’s not about Josh,” she said, grinning.

  “Then what is it?”

  Autumn r
an the tip of her tongue along her dry lips, then took a deep breath in. “The thing is, Dad, I’ve decided to buy a pier.”

  It took a full thirty seconds for him to regain his composure. Not that she’d ever expected anything less. Richard Paxton was way too controlled to shout or make a scene.

  “I’m sorry?” he said slowly. “Can you repeat that?”

  “She said she bought a pier.” Lydia couldn’t hide her exasperation. “In California. Isn’t that great?”

  He ignored his younger daughter, training his eyes on Autumn. “You can’t be serious.”

  Autumn slipped her hands beneath the table and adjusted her napkin, rubbing the expensive linen between her fingers. “I’ve already signed the contract and arranged for the money to be wired. There’s no pulling out.”

  “Have you looked at the projected income? At the zoning regulations? How long has it been on the market? Let me call my lawyer and get you out of the contract. I have a list as long as your arm on potential investments around here. Why would you buy a pier in California?”

  She thought about telling him the truth. That she’d done it when falling down drunk. But that would only make him even angrier.

  “I wanted a fresh start,” she told him. “Away from New York and Josh and everything that’s happened here. Angel Sands is a beautiful little town.” She brought another website up on her phone. “Here, look at it. Doesn’t it look pretty?” she asked, shoving the phone beneath his nose.

  “It looks about three thousand miles away.” He pushed the phone away. “This isn’t like you. Was it your idea?” he asked, turning to Lydia with an accusing stare.

  “It has nothing to do with me.” Lydia held her hands up.

  Autumn felt herself bristle at his insinuation. “I came up with the idea on my own and I’m glad I did,” she told him. “It has a lot of potential.”

  “It’s a pier,” he said, his nostrils flaring. “It’s a bit different than the office buildings you’re used to managing. Send the contract over to me and I’ll take a look. I’m sure we can get you out of this.”

  “I don’t want to get out of it,” Autumn told him, her voice sure. She could see Lydia’s amused smile from the corner of her eye. “And I don’t need your help with it. I just wanted you to know before I go.”

  “You’re going soon?” he blinked. “To California?”

  “Yes,” she said patiently. “That’s the plan.”

  “But it’s thousands of miles away. Your home is here.” He almost looked panicked. “With us. Your family.”

  “Take a chill pill, Dad,” Lydia said. “She’s moving to California, not Siberia. And it’s only until she has the pier up and running. It’s good for her. Look how excited she is.”

  “But you’re coming back, right?” He trained his eyes on Autumn’s.

  Maybe. “Yeah, I am. Probably.”

  “This is so unlike you. I don’t know what to say.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “Have you talked to a therapist?”

  Lydia started to laugh. Autumn shook her head, trying to push down her smile. “No, Dad, I don’t need a therapist. I’m okay, I promise.”

  The waiter came over with their lunches, sliding the plates carefully in front of them before filling up their water glasses. Autumn welcomed the silence his presence had enforced.

  Whether her dad liked it or not, she was going to California. And if it turned out to be a bad decision, it would still be okay.

  It couldn’t be any worse than marrying Josh, after all. And she’d somehow managed to get herself out of that.

  It was time to grab the bull by the horns and head to California.

  * * *

  It was almost nine that evening by the time the last of Griff’s customers stepped off the boat. It took another hour for him and his assistant, Brett, to wash down the deck, sort through the lifejackets, and make sure everything was shipshape ready for the next day’s excursion. Griff rolled his shoulders as he locked up, his body aching. Not only from eight hours on the boat, but also his early morning surfing.

  “Those corporate guys were something else,” Brett said as they made their way onto the pier. “They think they know everything. Can you believe they brought beer on board?”

  Griff had confiscated all the alcohol he could find, and gave it back to the group of management consultants when they left. They’d been on a team-building trip, which actually meant they’d spent most of their time begging him to get closer to the Orcas, asking to steer the ship, and generally making a nuisance of themselves.

  The problem was, corporate hires were lucrative. Especially at this time of the year when the tourist season hadn’t ramped up. And it had been amusing when at least half of them had started to feel seasick as soon as they reached the open water. It was choppy as hell out there today. Great for surfing, not so good for city-boy stomachs.

  Just as they reached the glass and wooden structure of Delmonico’s, Griff’s phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen. Ember.

  She was his best friend’s wife, and had become one of his best friends, too. She and Lucas would have been his couple goals, if he’d had any.

  “You go ahead,” Griff said to Brett, nodding at his phone. “I gotta take this.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you on Saturday.” Like nearly all Griff’s staff, Brett was a part-time Oceanography student at the local college. “Have a good evening.”

  “You too.” Griff watched Brett walk, his fingers sliding along the wooden rail at the edge of the pier, then answered his still-vibrating phone.

  “Hey. Everything okay?” he asked Ember.

  “I need you to sing for me,” she pleaded.

  He shook his head. “Not again. Where’s Lucas?”

  “He’s working. And I can’t get ahold of Jack or Breck. You’re the only one who can help.”

  “Why can’t you sing?” Griff asked. “You have to know the words by now.”

  “Because Arthur only calms down when a male voice sings to him,” Ember said, her voice tight. “And he’s been screaming all night.”

  Now that she said it, Griff could hear the muffled wails of his godson through the phone line. And damn if he didn’t have a soft spot for that little kid. At eight months old, Arthur always grinned toothily whenever Griff was around.

  “Okay. Put the phone to his ear.” Griff sighed.

  “Thank you,” Ember breathed. “Did I say you’re my favorite guy?”

  There was an abrupt change in sound, as Arthur’s sobs and sniffles increased. “Hey buddy, you teething again?”

  There was a brief moment of silence, followed by another loud cry.

  “Please start singing,” Ember begged.

  Griff leaned on the wooden rail and looked out across the bay, his phone at his ear. To the right, the lights of Angel Sands were sparkling in the night air. To the left was the dark abyss of the Pacific Ocean, lit by a sliver of the moon.

  He couldn’t remember which of them had first discovered that Arthur stopped crying every time he heard “Baby Shark”. But he did remember that each of them had tried it, and Arthur had only fallen asleep when a man sang it.

  Usually it would be Lucas who had to look like an ass and sing that song. It was only right – he was Arthur’s dad, after all. But when he was on duty as the captain of the local fire station, one of Arthur’s godfathers had to step in.

  Tonight was his lucky night.

  “Baby Shark, doo-doo-de-doo-doo-doo,” Griff sang softly down the phone. “Baby Shark, doo-doo-de-doo-doo-doo.” Arthur’s sobs quieted, but didn’t stop altogether.

  “Try a little louder,” Ember encouraged him.

  Griff shook his head and continued, his voice picking up volume, and Arthur started to babble softly.

  “That’s it. Keep going,” Ember encouraged again.

  “Mommy Shark, doo-doo-de-doo-doo-doo,” Griff continued.

  “A bit louder. It’s doing the trick,” Ember told him.


  “Daddy Shark…” To his right, Griff saw some movement. Somebody – a woman – was walking past Delmonico’s and was heading his way.

  “Don’t stop now,” Ember urged. “Come on, keep singing.”

  “Grandma Shark, doo-doo-de-doo-doo-doo.” He felt like a fool.

  The woman turned to look at him, her eyebrows rising with amusement. Jesus, she was pretty. And overdressed, too, for Angel Sands, in a pair of tight designer jeans and a blouse, a short navy wool jacket over the top. But it was her shoes that drew him in. Most women around here wore sandals or flip flops, but she was wearing black patent pumps with a red sole and heels that seemed to go on forever.

  “Are you okay?” Griff asked her, covering the mouthpiece. “The exit is that way.” He inclined his head toward the beach.

  “I’m fine.” Her voice was clipped. She blinked as she looked at him, her gaze taking him in.

  Arthur began to wail again. Shit. “I… ah… I gotta keep singing,” he said, pointing at his phone. Damn, he was lame.

  Her lips twitched. “Sure. It’s a good song.” He watched for a moment as she walked up the pier and disappeared behind Delmonico’s, before he started to sing again. It usually took a couple of minutes to get Arthur back to sleep, and most of the time he didn’t mind helping. But right now he’d rather be following those lithe legs and peachy behind than singing about goddamn sharks.

  A minute later, she was walking back, just as he heard Arthur’s breathing settle into a gentle rhythm. By the time Ember ended the call, the woman with the sexy heels was almost at the end of the pier, too far away for him to catch up with, unless he wanted to look like he was trying too hard.

  And he never wanted to look like that.

  3

  Parking her rental car, Autumn climbed out and walked across the parking lot to the coffee shop that overlooked the beach.

  It was her first full day in Angel Sands, and she was still getting used to how different everything was here. The brightness of the sun, the crashing of the waves against the ocean. Even the smells were completely alien to her New York nose. Instead of gasoline and overheated concrete, the air was full of salt and ozone, and the gorgeous smell of caffeine drifting from the café before her.