But why not follow through? Tell her a bit more. Bottling up all the hurt wasn’t helping him heal. And talking about Josh, sharing the qualities that had made him special, could also help keep his brother’s memory alive.
It was worth a try.
Besides, if he got cold feet midstream, he could always shut down.
As the silence lengthened, Kat edged back a hair. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to barge into personal territory—but the images captivated me, and I was curious about the man who created them.”
“It’s okay. I don’t talk about Josh often, but tell me what you’d like to know.”
She hesitated for a fraction of a second . . . then picked up her mug. “Was photography his business or a hobby?”
“Hobby. He used the images to illustrate a weekly blog he wrote. But he was beginning to submit his work for publication and he’d had a few strong nibbles.”
“I have to believe he could have built a career doing this.”
“I do too—although I think he was content to keep it as a hobby. He always said there’s a certain purity about things you do solely for love. Once money enters the picture, the complexion changes.”
A shadow flitted across her face. “Have you found that to be true with The Perfect Blend?”
“No . . . but I had a comfortable financial cushion going in. This business was never about money.”
“I can see where that would make a difference.” She sipped her coffee. “What did your brother do for a living?”
“Freelance web work. He had enough clients to put food on the table and keep a roof over his head, and he was content with that. Josh never wanted to be part of the rat race or claw his way to the top of the corporate world. His priority was people, travel, photography, writing—and space to breathe.”
“Seems like a healthy attitude to me.”
“Looking back, I agree—but at the time we clashed philosophically. Neither I nor my dad could understand why he lacked ambition in the traditional sense. In fact, he and my dad had a serious falling-out over it.”
As that admission slipped out, he throttled a groan. That was another can of worms he hadn’t intended to open.
What was with his sudden case of motormouth?
Twin furrows appeared on Kat’s brow. “Did they mend their rift?”
A logical question—and he owed her an answer, after introducing the subject.
“Yes—but Dad never did understand how Josh could be content living a bare-bones existence instead of using his engineering degree to earn a decent income. He was supersmart and aced all his college courses, but his heart was never in engineering. The degree was a concession to Dad. He had a different vision for his life—and after graduation he had the courage to pursue it.”
“Despite family opposition and pressure.”
“Yes.”
“That took guts.”
“Yes, it did.” As he’d later learned firsthand.
“Were the two of you close?”
“As close as two brothers on different tracks can be.”
“Yet you went rogue too.”
“Yes—but it took me much longer to see the light. In the beginning, I was as driven as my dad. After college, I joined an investment firm in Chicago, where I discovered I had a knack for brokering mergers and acquisitions. I was on the fast track and successful beyond my wildest dreams by the age of thirty.”
“Wow.” She leaned back in the booth, cradling her mug in her hands. “A coffee shop in Hope Harbor is one-eighty from that world of movers and shakers.”
“True—but the changes have all been positive. Josh had always encouraged me to slow down and smell the roses, but I brushed him off . . . until he died. That was a game changer.”
“Death can definitely alter your perspective.” Her soft comment was filled with angst and heartache.
There was a story there—and he wanted to hear it.
But pushing would be a mistake. All he could do was share his own history and hope she’d reciprocate.
“After he died, I read his blog. Looked through his photos. Both were a reflection of what he’d always believed—that beauty and hope can be found everywhere, even in the smallest places people tend to overlook. He noticed—and appreciated—everything.” Zach stared into the dark depths of his coffee. “In hindsight, it almost seems as if he sensed his time here was limited and was determined to suck every drop of joy from every single moment.”
Her features softened. “Not a bad philosophy, no matter how long your life.”
“I agree. That’s why I decided to leave the fast track behind and pursue my dream of running a coffee shop somewhere near the ocean. I did my homework, worked at a small coffee chain to learn the business from the ground up, and opened The Perfect Blend.”
The corners of her lips tipped up. “Now I see the deeper meaning behind the name. You’ve found a life that gives you a perfect balance between work and leisure.”
“Bingo.”
“How did you end up in Hope Harbor?”
“Josh lived in Oregon, and several years ago he suggested we meet here for a short vacation after I finished a business trip in San Francisco. Three days in, I got called back to Chicago to handle an emergency. But I had fond memories of this place and came back to check it out when I was trying to decide where to relocate. It didn’t take me long to realize how special Hope Harbor is.”
“I feel the same way. That’s why I came back too.”
“You’ve been here before?” That was news.
“I spent several weeks in the area once for work.”
He waited, but she didn’t offer more.
“Where is home now?”
Instead of dodging the question as he’d half expected, she surprised him by answering. “LA.” But then she put the spotlight back on him. “I expect your dad was disappointed about your decision to leave the rat race behind.”
A muscle ticced in his cheek. “That’s an understatement. We rarely communicate these days.”
“I’m sorry.”
He gave a stiff shrug. “I’ve learned to cope. I’m sure he has too. What about you? Any close family connections?” Other than telling him she had no siblings, she’d evaded that question the day he’d delivered the cobbler—but it didn’t hurt to try again.
“No. My mom died when I was a freshman in college.”
No mention of her father—which must mean the man was out of the picture.
Sad.
While he and his dad were on the outs, in a pinch the older man would come to his assistance.
He also had his aunt—and after renewing their acquaintance, he didn’t intend to let her be a stranger going forward.
Unless his instincts were failing him, the woman sitting across from him had no family connections at all.
But friends could fill the gap—and he’d be happy to step into the latter category, if she gave him the tiniest opening.
He broached that subject with caution. “It’s tough not to have much family—but a close-knit community helps . . . or a group of friends.”
“True friends aren’t easy to come by—and it can be hard to distinguish sincerity from selfishness.” She forked a bite of cake with more force than necessary, put it in her mouth, and chewed. “Mmm. You weren’t exaggerating. This is to die for.”