“Yeah, so, what am I thinking about now?” I lean back in my chair, enjoying this little back and forth flirtation more than I should, memories of a young man who wore his golden hair too long and talked too much and too fast surfacing, causing butterflies to flutter in my stomach.
“Spring break, first year of college,” he throws, and I burst out laughing.
“Not even remotely close, but nice try.” A pleasant warmth spreads in my abdomen when Andy laughs. He always had the best laughter, like a kid, without a worry in the world. He used to be like that, jovial and full of contagious energy, back before his dad got killed overseas, and he decided to enlist.
I can’t be bothered with stopping the tip of my freshly manicured fingernail being worn down by my teeth as the memories flood me—joy and pain, love and heartache. There are so many of them I can’t separate one from the other, they’re just a big wad of sticky mess that has had me super-glued to the same spot since Andy left.
“I’m sorry about Gabe,” Andy says, breaking the silence.
“Is he also playing an angle?” I ask, hoping my instincts about him were dead wrong, and he’s actually a good guy.
“Sort of,” Andy replies, and I deflate. “He trusts you to play fair, says you’re good people, and he wants what’s best for the inn, for Claire.”
“And for you?” I add.
“I’m not sure this is what’s best for me, Phoebs,” he admits. “And I’m pretty sure this isn’t what’s best for you.”
“That’s my decision to make, Andy,” I scold him. “It always was. The only reason we’re in this mess, to begin with, is you thinking otherwise.”
There’s a long heavy silence before he replies. “We need to figure out how this is going to work if you’re coming to the Grove.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Why don’t we meet for dinner tomorrow evening, we’ll hash it out.”
“You asking me out on a date, Curls?” There’s that attitude again.
“In your dreams, Surfer Boy,” I shoot back, and he laughs. “When I say ‘we’ I mean all three of us.”
“Fine, I’ll bring Gabe and tell him to be on his best behavior.”
“Tell him he better, or I’m bringing Leanne.” Andy laughs that jovial laughter again. “What’s the deal with that, anyway?”
“Not my story to tell,” Andy replies.
“There’s a story?” I perk up. “Leanne thinks he’s just a shy guy with a crush.”
“Oh, she’s not entirely wrong,” Andy answers cryptically. “But it’s best if you leave it alone.”
“Fine,” I relent with a sigh. “I’ll send over the time and place for tomorrow.”
“Sounds good,” he replies, and we fall into silence again.
“This is a career-maker, Andy,” I tell him, almost pleading for him to understand. “Just let me do my job, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Thank you.” I sigh with relief.
“You still have happy hour with the girls every Friday, or did that stop after college?” Andy inquires, much to my surprise.
“Uh, yeah, it’s still a thing,” I answer, wondering what would prompt that question after he hasn’t seen them in five years. “We’re having it early tomorrow since Tris is in China.”
“No kidding?” Andy hesitates before speaking again. “So, tell them I said hi if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, sure.” What?
“Cool. Thanks.” There’s another long pause. “Bye, Phoebe.”
“Goodbye, Andy.” I hang up and sit there, staring at my phone for a good minute. “That was so weird.”
“Are you talking to yourself?” Leanne sashays into my office after three quick raps on the door and places a stack of papers on my desk.
“Oh, yeah, totally,” I declare. “I do it all the time.”
“Yeah, so do I,” she admits with a smile. “What’s weird?”
“Andy.”
“Sugar, mark my words, this is going to get a whole lot weirder before it starts making sense.” Leanne places one hand on the curve of her hip and another on my desk as she leans forward. “You and that boy are nowhere near done with each other.”
I open my mouth to protest but shut it just as quick. Despite all the residue piled up between us, part of me is bothered about whatever is going on with Andy. Whatever happened to him in the past five years seems to have thoroughly broken his spirit.
And despite my best efforts, part of me still cares.
Chapter Six
Phoebe
“He asked you to say ‘hi?’” Zoe gapes at me through the screen. “Nothing else?”
“Nothing else,” I confirm.
“That’s so…” Zoe pauses.
“Weird?” I complete for her, and she nods. “Yeah, it is.”
I stare at the marigold liquid dancing as I roll the stem of my wine glass between my fingers.
“What are you thinking, babe?” Trista asks after a few seconds, and as I look up at my two best friends, for the first time in an exceptionally long time, the worried gazes are all on me.
“It doesn’t add up. One second he’s cracking jokes about the way we used to be, the next he shuts me out completely.”
“Andy? TMI Andy? Shutting you out?” Trista stares in disbelief, mirroring Zoe’s gaze.
“Yep, cold-hearted stonewalling at its best.” I take a sip of my wine. “But then his lawyer-slash-friend basically blames me for us breaking up and next thing I know Andy’s asking about you guys.”
“Maybe his friend was just worried about him. You said Andy had a migraine,” Trista suggests.
“I just feel like everybody is trying to play us.” I sigh. “Part of me just wants to walk away.”
“Then, why don’t you?” Zoe inquires.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
“Because that feeling is driven by fear, and you, my fierce friend, are anything but fear-driven,” Trista points out. “And deep down, no matter how much you try to deny it, there’s a part of you that’s still holding on to Andy.”
“Yeah, I am way past denying it.” I snort with a shake of my head. “Which really pisses me off, ‘cause I’m still so mad at him.”
“What are you going to do, then?” Trista plays with her braid, her electric blue eyes examining me closely. “Live in perpetual anger for the next few months? Hope you’ll start hating him? Or maybe you’re hoping to find out you don’t really feel anything for him anymore?”
“I’m doing it for my career,” I justify. “I’ve given up enough because of Andrew Atkins. I worked hard to get where I am, and I refuse to let him take another thing away from me.”
“You are a brilliant lawyer, Phoebe,” Zoe protests my excuse. “And you know it. If this were anybody else, you would have handed in your resignation. You’re sticking around because it’s Andy.”
“I know all that. I just don’t know what to do about it.” I throw myself back in the chair with a groan. “You guys are no help.”