Tidal Patterns (Golden Shores Book 1) (22 page)

Pulling up his email, he started typing. He wrote out a thorough explanation. He poured himself into the words on his computer screen, discussing everything that happened that led to his choice and what he wanted next. He sat back and read the lengthy draft, and decided against hitting send. He didn’t owe Frank Cade that much detail or insight; not after the way he’d witnessed him treat Lizzie.

I wish she’d show up so we can talk.
He blew out a sigh and put his hands behind his head, leaning his chair way back. Her clean fresh scent smell wafted over. Righting his chair, he stared at the door expectantly.
Come on Lizzie, walk inside
. But the knob didn’t turn.

Turning his chair toward the window, a peek of gray caught the corner of his eye. She’d left behind a cardigan sweater on her desk chair.
Not her.

Opening the top drawer of his desk, he surveyed the contents. He had no personal belongings in the office. He shoved the drawer shut and pushed back his chair, grabbing his briefcase. He got up and paced the room for one final time. Everywhere he looked he saw Lizzie. He smiled, thinking about her exasperating need for details and hand-written to do lists. She needed tangible things, maybe because she’d always had them.

Keeping his head down, he didn’t look back as he left the office, letting the door swing shut behind him. His shoes ground a loose shell on the tabby path. The crunch under his foot as the shell crumbled was satisfying.
I could crush a few more and maybe I’d feel better.
No, he couldn’t waste time smashing shells.

A breeze picked up, the brackish smell of the marsh especially strong in the early afternoon. Turning his head to the side, he was tempted to slow his pace and walk across the lawn.
No, I can’t.
Mark shook his head and continued on, focusing on his feet
.
If he gazed across the lawn, through the gaps between the live oaks to the marsh and the sound, he might want to stay. He couldn’t reconsider.
I have to go. If I leave, she can stay.

Getting into the car, he turned the key in the ignition, and pulled out his phone. Instead of the lengthy missive he started, he kept the email direct.
Effective immediately, I resign
.

Immediately after hitting send, he raced off the island as fast as he could. Now that he’d quit, he had to leave. He drove directly to Phil’s and burst into his house, not even knocking, without a call or a text. He opened the door and strode into the kitchen, surprising Phil as he ate a sandwich at the table.

“We need to talk,” Mark said sternly, standing over the table and frowning down at Phil.

Phil motioned for Mark to sit down while he finished chewing and took a drink of his water.

“What’s going on? Why are you here? Is everything okay?”

“I’m leaving,” Mark said, his tone flat.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m leaving.”

Mark closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with one hand. Why was this so hard to discuss with Phil? But coming over to tell Phil his plan, Mark had been preparing himself for a fight, he realized. He’d never had a fight with him. They’d never raised their voices at each other. Sitting up straighter, he looked his friend directly in the eye.

“I have a job in Miami. I’m going back to what I do best. I’m taking over catering at a boutique hotel. I start next week,” Mark said, striving to keep his voice expressionless.

He didn’t want Phil to think his decision was open to discussion. Because as far as he was concerned, he’d made the choice. This move was happening. For her sake, he simply had to leave.

“Miami? When did this happen?” Phil asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Yesterday after I left here.”

“That fast? How did you get a job in a couple hours?”

“I’ve had a standing offer for a few years. I’ve never really taken it seriously before. But with everything that’s happened, this is the right choice.”

Phil pushed his plate to the side, leaned back in his chair, and looked at him sternly. Mark flinched. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable to be so near Phil. He rested his forearms on the table, leaning on them with his weight. After a minute he found that stance awkward and he cleared his throat and got up from the chair. He paced behind the table while Phil continued to stare him down.

“What?” Mark finally asked, stopping to face Phil, breaking the tension.

“You’re running away. This girl has you scared.”

Wincing, Mark absorbed the words.
I’m not running away from her. I’m trying to help her.
But how could he explain when he hadn’t really sorted out his feelings. He couldn’t walk away from Phil’s unnerving gaze.

“I’m not running away and this has nothing to do with her,” Mark lied.

He sighed in exasperation and started moving again. What was Phil even talking about?
He doesn’t understand at all
.

“It has everything to do with her,” Phil continued, raising his voice to drive his point home. “You could live the life you say you want here. You want to slow down? You want to start having a personal life? You could do that here.”

“No I can’t,” Mark muttered under his breath, his hands balling into fists. Looking about the room, listening to the hum of the dishwasher, and breathing in the smell of cookies lingering in the air, the differences in their lives couldn’t have been more glaring.
He has a home and a family. I want this. I thought maybe I’d found my chance but…

“Well, you could. But you won’t.”

“If I leave, she gets the job she wants,” Mark said, stopping to put his hands on his hips and glower down at Phil. “She wants it a lot more than I do. It’s hers.”

“You could stay here and give her the job.”

“No, I can’t.”

Phil shook his head. “You’re afraid. You have to stop doing things out of fear.”

Mark threw up his hands in the air. “What else have I done out of fear?”

“Stayed in a relationship with someone who didn’t love you because you were comfortable with the familiar.”

“I loved her,” Mark protested.

“Yeah, but not the way you should have. You can’t turn away when life gets hard. I know you have this image of me with my family and my bar. But you’re completely wrong. My life is hard in ways I never could have imagined. There are days that are so tough I don’t think I can keep going, but I do. I have been more scared in the past two years. But that’s when it’s most important that I’m here. I need to be here for them and for myself.”

Mark turned away. He didn’t want to hear what Phil was saying. Focusing on all the ways Phil’s life was better than his, instead of all the ways Phil’s life was harder, gave him a reason to ignore his advice.

“There is nowhere I’d rather be than here,” Phil said, standing to clap a hand on his shoulder. “No one I’d rather be with than my family. But I don’t want you to think we live some kind of fairytale. Real life is so much more complicated than that. Don’t run away because of some girl or some idea of chivalry.”

“I understand. But I can’t stay here,” Mark’s voice came out, barely greater than a whisper. “I’m leaving tomorrow to meet with the staff and then I’ll be back to pack. Will you watch Scooter for me?”

Dropping his hand, Phil took a step back. And then he took a few more until he reached the table. Sinking into his chair, Phil slumped, defeated.

Why is he upset?
Mark bristled, crossing his arms over his chest.
Mark knew. They were family. Maybe the relationship had always seemed unbalanced. Maybe he’d always assumed he needed Phil more than the reverse.
Maybe I’ve always been wrong.

“Sure. Drop him off before you go.” Phil’s voice sounded detached, preoccupied.

Mark froze. The distance between them suddenly stretching from Jekyll Island to St. Simons. He’d never felt so separated from Phil before.
But I can’t stay
. Suddenly, he understood. His choices had pulled him away from his friend and into a different orbit. He stood still, rooted in place, tension tightening his jaw.

“Thanks,” Mark nodded.

Hands in his pockets, he stared at Phil, hoping to unnerve him.
Make me stay. Yell at me about this
. But he could see in the hunched shoulders and rounded back, that Phil didn’t have any fight left. Mark walked across the hardwood floor, painfully aware of each scuff and click of his soles against the walnut. Turning the doorknob, he let himself out, still hoping for Phil to stop him.

But Phil didn’t move. Mark kept his eyes focused on his friend until he shut the door.
This is the best choice. My only choice. Why can’t he understand?
Shaking his head, Mark jogged lightly down the steps.
Phil wasn’t coming after him, no one was.
Story of my life.

“You can do this. Frank Cade can’t scare you out of your job a second time. And you know what? If he can’t handle the truth, you can move on,” Lizzie told the reflection in the vanity mirror of her visor.

Lizzie got out of the car, took in a deep breath of the briny air, and purposefully strode towards the main hotel building. As she’d promised Rose, she’d shown up for work the next day. But instead of heading down the path to her office, she needed to take charge of her situation first.

Crossing over the verandah, she walked through the French doors without looking back. Her heels clicked against the hardwood floors and Lizzie pulled back her shoulders and raised her chin as she opened the door and took the stairs up to the second floor.
Like the first time I ran into Mark at work, when I’d been full of confidence, before Frank Cade had torn my self-esteem apart.

If she closed her eyes, she imagined she’d smell Mark’s woody Old Spice deodorant. She bit her lip, remembering how the fragrance had become stronger, more tangible when they’d been running around the event together.
Or when I had my nose next to his collar as we danced
. Lizzie reached the top step and looked down the hall, wishing she’d somehow have run into him.

What would I say
? Her stomach turned over like it did every time she forced herself onto a flume ride. She hated flume rides. But she hated her ridiculous fear of them even more.
I hate my ridiculous fear of talking to Mark the most.

She wanted to apologize. She wanted to explain that despite whatever he thought after he dropped her off at her house, he was wrong. She liked him. She hadn’t been trying to work some angle. And if he’d told her about his family and his ex to make her feel sorry for him, she refused. She cared for the man that she knew, that she’d come to rely on, that she couldn’t go through a day without thinking about. He could offer her all the excuses of his past and he could build up a wall around his heart, but she would tear it down.

No, she stopped herself. She had to get this done first.
Business than pleasure
.

Her muffled steps on the hall carpet gave no indication of the determination in her step. She opened the outer door to Frank Cade’s office and strode up to the secretary’s desk. She stopped right in front and didn’t have to wait for acknowledgement from the lady. The secretary looked at her as she walked in and—maybe only her imagination—Lizzie thought she caught a nod of approval.

“He’s been expecting you,” the secretary told Lizzie, “go right in.”

He’d been expecting her? Why?
Lizzie’s palms grew clammy. She tugged down her suit jacket to dry her hands without drawing undue attention and pursed her lips. She hadn’t checked her email since Saturday. She’d been living off the grid for four days. Up until that moment she’d loved being disconnected. No, she wouldn’t give in to her fears.

Smiling at the secretary, she walked through the open door. The secretary shut the door behind her and Lizzie turned to see Frank Cade, standing up behind his desk. He motioned for her to sit down at a chair opposite him. Was he going to fire her? What was with all the ceremony? Last time, he hadn’t even deigned to look at her when she entered the room. Did he want her to feel calm and comfortable enough that she wouldn’t start shrieking and make a scene?

Lizzie sat in the chair he indicated and crossed her legs. When she felt nervous, she typically started rambling and filled the silence with useless words. But she decided to let Frank do all the talking. Whatever was about to happen would happen and she wanted to save face for herself, if no one else. She refused to start ranting.

“Ah, Miss Shaw, Lizzie, thank you for coming in this morning,” Frank started.

Nodding her head, she didn’t offer any other reply.

“Ah, alright, so yes, yes. Great work at the event. Everyone keeps telling me how fundamental you were that night and I’m pleased to hear it. I think you’ve grown a lot in your role since…” Frank paused to take a sip from his coffee.

Lizzie fought to keep a straight face. She’d grown a lot in her role since…he’d passed her up for the job? In roughly seven weeks she’d somehow managed an amazing change? She couldn’t believe his gall.
If Rose was here, I think she’d tsk him for me
.

“And so I’m pleased to formally make you the Manager of Special Events for Jekyll Island. And you’ll have your work cut out for you too, there are only a few months before the next event.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Lizzie asked, furrowing her brow, her eyes darting about the room to look for the hidden camera.

“You’ve earned the job,” Frank replied.

Something in his tone didn’t sit right, he sounded almost sarcastic. Why was he offering her Mark’s job? She’d come in prepared to fight to get recognition and some help
.
She’d already decided to start sending him the emails of praise from her former clients to show how much work she did. She wanted two more planners. But then he offered her Mark’s job?
I was hoping for a bump up in my salary. Not to force out Mark.

“Mr. Cade, I have earned the job. In fact, I should have been the Manager from the beginning. But to be honest, because I can’t seem to be anything else right now, we are better off as a team. Mark and I compliment each other. We each have strengths. Losing one of us means you’re sunk,” Lizzie ranted.

“Then we’re sunk. Mark left.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you correctly. He left?”

“He left. He quit. He sent an email yesterday and didn’t give any notice. He’s gone.”

Grabbing her purse off the ground, Lizzie stood up to leave and walked to the door.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

Turning back to Frank, she registered the shock and fear in his eyes. For the first time, she had the upper hand. It felt good but she wouldn’t let herself smirk. She had no time for arrogance or conceit from anyone, least of all herself.

“I’m going to find out what happened and then when I get him back we are going to sit down as a team and figure this out. You need to hire another event planner for weddings. And I need a raise,” she told him in no uncertain terms.

Frank opened his mouth like he would reply, but then thought better and shut his mouth. He looked at her, assessing. She could feel his perusal down to her toes. After a long moment, he nodded. She’d finally passed some kind of test.

But she had no time to revel in the glory of the victory. She raced out of the office without a backward glance and launched herself down the hall, down the stairs and outside. She slipped out of her heels when she reached the grass. She could do a lot in heels, but running had never been an option. Luckily, she always carried an extra pair of flip-flops in her purse. She slid them on mid-step, hopping into them.

Lizzie got into her car and raced back across the island. She drove over the Torres Causeway so fast she felt sure she’d be pulled over for a ticket, but she had no time to waste. What was he thinking? Where was he going? Had she somehow pushed him to this? And had she missed him by taking off one day?

Lizzie slowed down as she reached the big traffic circle and got caught up in a bit of congestion near the airport. Now Rose’s words came back to her. When you found the man you were supposed to be with you, you didn’t want to waste a single second that you could have together. Lizzie did her best to piece together where he lived, remembering the route he’d taken from his cottage two mornings ago. Dealing with a hangover and massive headache that morning had compromised some of her memory and it took her three trips down his road before she recognized the little cottage.

The cottage didn’t have a garage or a driveway that she’d seen so she pulled in front of the gate to the very spot she remembered Mark parking. She swallowed hard against the lump forming in her throat. He couldn’t be gone. She hopped over the little fence, it barely skimmed her knees making the feat easy and the gate superfluous. She walked up the path, unintentionally slowing with every step. Did she want to do this? What would she say? Where would she start? Or worse, what if he was gone? What if he’d left without saying goodbye?

No, I’m not giving myself any more options. No more hiding. Not even for a day.
She knocked on the door and pressed her ear flat against it. She strained trying to make out any sounds, even Scooter’s tail batting against a wall or the floor. She knocked again but heard nothing.

“No, not like this.”

If he was going to leave, then he had to face her first and explain himself. He owed her that. Lizzie’s chest tightened, tears stung the back of her eyes and the urge to shout filled her throat. She took in a deep breath and willed herself to calm down. She had to relax and think. Where would he go? She knew only one place in town, his buddy’s bar.

Lizzie ran down the path, her flip-flops loudly smacking against the bricks. She hopped over the fence and jumped back in her car. His stupid Barbie car would make for an easier getaway without the doors she mused as she drove back to the Pier Village. She parked her car in the public lot near the pier. Lizzie raced down the street, heedless of the cars that approached each crosswalk, nearly getting hit at several intersections. She didn’t care.

The door chimed overhead as Lizzie turned the knob and pushed it open. She hadn’t expected anyone to be in and the door banged against the interior wall. Lizzie flinched. The bar kept late hours, but she’d figured it would be worth a chance to see if it was open. She had no other ideas.

“Hello?” she called out.

She walked into the darkened room and shut the door.

“We aren’t open,” a voice called out.

Squinting as her eyes adjusted to the light, she followed the voice and the faint smell of hops. She found it in the back corner of the room at a door leading to a small back hallway. She stopped only a few feet away from the man and recognized him as the bartender who’d served her the other night. Mark’s friend.

“I’m looking for Mark,” she said without any preamble.

The man turned to face her and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked her up and down and frowned. “Why?”

“You don’t know me. You’ve served me drinks once and you’ve probably heard about me from your friend. I know who you are too. But we don’t actually know each other. Let’s take everything that’s been said with a grain of salt.”

The man snickered and rolled his eyes. Lizzie refused to let him intimidate her. Mark was too important. Everything was at stake for her she realized and she was ready to fight.

“You know why you should tell me? Because our idiot boss just gave me his job so I know he’s leaving. And I’m pretty sure you don’t want him to go either.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because from what he’s told me, he doesn’t have any family. None. Except for you. And I’m guessing he’s pretty important to you too,” Lizzie said punctuating her words with a pointed finger.

Opening his mouth to speak, the man was saved a reply. Lizzie heard the unmistakable sound of a big, heavy tail hitting the ground upstairs. They both turned toward the noise.

“Is that Scooter?” Lizzie asked, her eyes growing wide. She took a few steps forward, but stopped when Phil crossed his arms over his chest. He would bar her entry, she felt certain. She had no intention of making an enemy out of someone who should be an ally. “Do you have Scooter? Is Mark here?”

“Scooter is here, Mark isn’t. He’s heading to a job in Miami,” Phil replied.

“What?”

Gasping, she put a hand to her stomach to massage out the physical ache of those words. She hadn’t let herself even consider the possibility that he’d left.
No Mark leaving is too…wrong. He belongs here, with Scooter and his friend and… And with me.

Taking in a shaky breath, she suddenly longed to leave. She wanted to go home and soak in the tub and cry all night. He left. Just like her parents. Abandoned again. She wanted to yell and scream and be completely irrational in the safety of her own four walls.
Which I guess, I get to keep now.

“Are you okay?” the man asked, reaching out to put a hand on Lizzie’s shoulder.

The touch softened his earlier, angry stance. Physical contact made him more human and not only a coil of anger ready to unfurl at any unfortunate person who stumbled into his path. Did he blame her for Mark leaving?
Why? Should she?

Maybe him leaving is what he wants. I don’t want him to go, but I’m not privy to his life.
Her shoulders rolled forward. She wanted to curl up into a tiny ball and pretend that he hadn’t left without an explanation or even a good-bye.

But then she thought about Rose. Rose wouldn’t just let someone walk out of her life. And Lizzie wouldn’t either. She found her backbone, pulled her shoulders back, and raised her chin.

“When did he leave?” she asked.

“Only about twenty minutes ago. He’s taking a flight in a couple hours out of Brunswick. You might able to catch him.”

“Thank you,” Lizzie replied and turned on her heel to race out of the bar.

She thought she heard him call ‘good luck’ to her, but she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t have time to waste.