String Beans (The Girls of Beachmont #2) (6 page)

“Yeah, you too.” I
looked at the woman next to me and smiled. “Jeff, this is Viola. Viola, this is
my friend Jeff. He owns this dump.”

Jeff laughed
because he knew I was joking. “I was going to say your meal is on the house,
but forget it now.”

“Hi, it’s nice to
meet you.” Vi smiled.

“What are you doing
with this guy?” Jeff teased. “You could do so much better.”

“Oh no,” she
objected, shaking her head and making it absolutely clear we were not together.
I didn’t mind, but did she have to be so offended by the idea?

“Smart girl,” he
said. “I’ll bring your food out in a minute.”

He walked away,
leaving a strange vibe in the air.

“I’m sorry,” she
said quickly. “I didn’t mean to sound so rude.”

“You could do
worse,” I teased.

“I’ve married
worse,” she joked, but recoiled at her own words.

“Too soon?” I
questioned, offering a smile.

Our food was placed
in front of us, leaving many questions unanswered…but I was beginning to think finding
the answers was going to be fun.

VIOLA

I haven’t lived alone since…well, ever.

I went from my parents’
house to rooming with Dani, Jolie, and Millie to finally getting married and
living with Will. It wasn’t in my nature to go out of my way to befriend
people—not because I was rude, but because I tended to live in my own
head. I watched everything around me, and sometimes the things I saw became
lyrics in my head.

The girls had done
a pretty decent job of getting me out of myself, but after marriage, it seemed
that it wasn’t easy for me.

As much as I
enjoyed the performances during open
mic
night, I
wasn’t as comfortable with the after-party. When Wyatt suggested we get something
to eat at his friend Jeff’s place, I wanted to run in the direction of my
apartment and not look back. But he was right: it was just dinner. But that
dinner felt a whole hell of a lot like a date, and I definitely wasn’t ready to
enter that arena.

And that’s why I
avoided the coffee shop for nearly a week afterwards.

Still, I found
myself thinking about Wyatt, and that was unsettling. After days of avoidance,
I decided I had a craving for something sweet, and I knew that the pastries at
the coffee shop would hit the spot. I wasn’t working at the bookstore until the
following Tuesday, so I found myself with a chunk of free time on my hands.

I stopped in front
of the mirror in the bathroom and checked my appearance, but rolled my eyes at
myself. I could lie and say I wasn’t trying to impress him, but I knew the
truth. A part of me was nervous to see Wyatt. And the other part was hoping to
see him and get a bit of an ego boost.

As I was stepping
out into the hallway of my building, my attention was pulled away from the
current task of locking my door.

“Hey,” I heard a
chipper feminine voice call from down the walkway. She had a thick southern
drawl that made me stop in my tracks despite my attempts to ignore it. I didn’t
know anyone—hell, I’d only lived in the small building for a few
weeks—but I turned around despite myself. “You’re the new renter in 3B?”

I looked behind me,
glancing at the metal numbers drilled into the door. I was silently hoping that
they had magically morphed into 1C or 2B…anything but 3B.

Damn. No such luck.

“Oh yeah. Sorry,” I
fumbled. “I thought you were talking to someone else. I’m Viola.”

“I’m Callie Hanes,”
she said with a friendly smile as she walked over with her hand outstretched.
Callie’s blond ponytail bobbed behind her. “I’m in 2A. Where’re you from?”

“Me? I…I’m from
Spring Park. You?”

“Cali girl, huh? I
knew it, just the way your voice sounds. It’s so…normal,” she said with a
smile. “I’m from Oklahoma.”

“Nice to meet you.”
I finished locking the door to the apartment and waited for her to get the
hint, but she just stood watching me.

I guess she wants to make conversation.

“So how long have
you lived here?” I finally asked as I was beginning to feel trapped between
Callie and the door.

“About six months,”
she answered, her smile wavering slightly. I swear there was a hint of
disappointment in her tone at her admission, but she pushed her shoulders back
and jutted out her chin. “What brings you out here?”

Ah, the million-dollar question. Nothing ends an awkward conversation
quicker than a truth bomb.

“I’m recently
separated,” I said simply, hoping that the blunt answer would scare the girl
away.

Callie’s smile
faded and her brows pinched together as she studied me closer than I was
comfortable with.

You can run away now.

Go.

Shoo.

But she just stood
there.

“You’re joking,
right? You’re like what, nineteen?”

“Add five to that
and then you’ve got it.” I smiled tightly.

“You’re married?”
she asked.

I shook my head. “I
was
married. I am… Now I’m …not. It’s
complicated.”

I sidestepped the blond
bombshell in front of me and made my way down the steps, but I could feel her
behind me, questioning without saying a word.

“I’m sorry to be
rude, Callie,” I said, turning halfway down the stairs, “but I’m headed to the
coffee shop.”

“String Beans?” she
asked hopefully. “Mind if I tag along?”

I thought I’d done
a pretty good job of scaring the girl off. I was staring at her wide-eyed and
mouth agape, but clearly it was lost on Callie. I shook my head, trying to rid
myself of the cobwebs that seemed to have taken residence in my brain, but it
did nothing to relieve the ramblings in my head. Still, Callie followed me as I
made my way down the stairs and to the sidewalk. I felt like I’d somehow
inherited a lost puppy that I never intended on keeping.

I didn’t say a word
to her, but I could tell that she wanted to ask me something, so I stopped
walking and waited for it.

“What happened with
your husband?”

I hated to see the
look in people’s eyes when I told them what went wrong. I’d seen it with Bethany,
I saw it with my contact at the temp agency, and I saw a flash of it with
Wyatt. I wished I could say we grew apart or something equally mature, but all
I had was the truth.

“He cheated on me.”

Callie flinched at
the honesty in my words and I found myself trying to ease her mind.

“I guess that’s what
happens when you marry young.” I shrugged before turning in the direction of
the coffee shop. She was poised in the spot where I vomited my reality on her,
but it wasn’t long before she was following me again.

I most definitely have a new pet.

“When did it
happen?” Callie asked.

I stopped to face
her, taking pity on the girl who clearly had no boundaries. “Callie, we’re
strangers. This is not something I talk to people about—especially not
someone I met literally five minutes ago. No offense.”

“But,” she
stammered, “you’re the one who brought it up.”

I shook my head and
smiled as I looked at her. “You got me there.”

“You just don’t look
like someone who would be cheated on.”

“What does that
mean?” I asked.

“I just meant . .
.” She paused, trying to find the words. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone.” She
turned to walk away, and I felt sorry for the socially awkward and
inappropriate girl that had decided to talk to me.

“Look Callie, I’m
sorry. Honestly, I didn’t expect you to ask so many questions, and obviously I
wasn’t prepared to answer any. I just needed to get away and start over by
myself,” I said as sweetly as I could muster.

“So you came out
here to find yourself?” she asked as she slowly started walking toward me
again.

I knew there was no
way to get out of this. Whether it happened at that moment or months down the
road, I would end up telling her the whole sordid story. Maybe I could look at
it as therapy. She was a stranger, after all.

We walked through
the wooden double doors of String Beans and headed to the counter. A young girl
with piercings in her nose, lip, and a gauge in her ear smiled. I’d seen her
before and was mesmerized by her bright purple pixie cut. I’d only seen her once
the week before, but she was friendly. I glanced at her nametag—Busy—and
smiled.

“Welcome to String
Beans. What can I get started for you?”

I stared at the chalkboard
writing that listed the specials when Callie spoke up. “Wow, did those hurt?”

Busy looked past me
to acknowledge Callie, her smile still in place. “Not too bad.”

I looked over my
shoulder at Callie, who was still staring at Busy’s face, and cleared my throat.
“I’ll take a number three and a green tea, please.”

Busy nodded and
began making my order. I handed her my money and walked over to my new favorite
chair so I could get comfortable. Callie was still at the counter talking with
the barista, and I figured she would get something and head out, but she
didn’t. I saw her look around the coffeehouse and I knew she was trying to
locate me. I slumped deeper into the chair, hoping to hide, but as I stole a
glance over my open book, she spotted me and came waltzing over.

Jolie wants me to make friends—here goes nothing.

“So what brought
you out to L.A.?” I asked, setting my book aside and moving my things from the
empty chair next to me. Callie smiled and took the seat I offered.

“Fame,” she said
with a dreamy look in her eyes. “Back home, I had always wanted to be famous,
but there was no way that was going to happen—not in my hometown. Sure,
people know me there, but in a place like Burning Oaks where there’s only two
thousand people…everyone’s name gets around.”

“So you up and
left. Just like that?” I asked, impressed with her passion.

“Yeah,” she sighed.
“Momma and Daddy weren’t thrilled, but I’m twenty-one, and I’d already spent
too much time doing nothing and going nowhere. I didn’t want to go to college,
so they gave me the money they had saved up and told me to go for it.”

“Sounds like you
have pretty amazing parents,” I complimented, and she nodded. “Have they been
out here to see you?”

“Not yet. I don’t
want them to visit until I have something solid—big, even—lined up.
I don’t want them to think I’m a failure,” she admitted, looking disappointed.

“It’s only been six
months. I don’t think you can consider yourself a failure.”

I was glad to see
her smile return…then she spoke again, bringing the conversation back to me.

“So the divorce
drove you away, but what brought you here?” she asked, focusing on me.

“Honestly? I’m not
sure,” I said and leaned back in the overstuffed chair. “Will, my ex, and I
were both into music. He had a band and I, well, I stopped doing anything of my
own, music-related, to help pay rent. When I caught him cheating, I took care
of some things and got out of town the first chance I got. I couldn’t go back
home and my best friends live too far away. So I ended up here with no job
prospects, no friends, and no clue what to do next.”

“It’s been a couple
of weeks, right?” Callie questioned and waited for my nod. “So…job?”

“It’s not much, but
part time at the bookstore,” I said. “I really need to find something else.”

“Okay. And what
about friends?” My eyes met hers and she raised her brows, nodding eagerly.

“Maybe,” I laughed,
ignoring the way she pouted her lips.

“Any clue what to
do next?”

I shook my head and
closed my eyes. “Callie—I don’t think I’d be here right now if I had that
one figured out.”

She laughed and
patted my leg. My stomach let out a growl and Callie’s eyes widened at the noise.
I could smell the fresh banana bread that Busy was setting out, and I knew
another embarrassing noise was about to make its way out. I was going to open
up a piece of gum to stave off another round when I spotted him.

He was watching me
with that cocky grin, daring me to flinch, but I righted my posture and held
his stare.

“Which one of you
ladies had the chicken Panini?” Wyatt asked as he got closer, his eyes still
locked on mine. He knew it was mine. Every time I went in, I ordered the same
thing—it was too good not to. But he was making a point since I hadn’t
been by in a while.

I snorted, loud and
cringe-worthy. I couldn’t help it. Still, he walked over and set the plates on
the small table and waited for me to say something.

“Thanks, Wyatt,” he
said aloud, talking in a feminine voice as he carried the conversation for the
both of us. “No problem, Vi. Busy asked me to bring these out to the two girls
in the back.”

“Thank you,” Callie
said, smiling up at Wyatt. He turned his attention to her and grinned.

“Viola made a
friend,” he said with a lopsided grin.

“Are you her
friend?” Callie asked.

“We’re
acquaintances,” I interjected.

“Wyatt. And you
are?” he asked, extending his hand.

“Single,” she said.
“I mean, Callie. Not single. I mean, I
am
single, but my name is Callie. Someone tell me to shut up.”

“Shut up,” I said,
laughing at her bumbling.

She looked over and
her cheeks looked as if someone had slapped her across the face.

“Nice to meet you,
Callie,” he said before returning his attention to me. “How’s it going?”

“She needs a job,”
Callie said casually, to my mortification.

“Thanks,” I
muttered, looking up at Wyatt and shrugging. “I still have a little time before
I
have
to find something.”