Tidal Patterns (Golden Shores Book 1) (23 page)

Mark sat at one end of the bar in the airport and drank his iced tea. He usually didn’t like to buy drinks before making it through security. Trying to chug a water bottle before putting it on a conveyor belt, or worse, forgetting and leaving it in the bag to be yelled at by TSA were not appealing.

But he’d never flown through Brunswick Glynco before. Only one airline served the spotless, tiny airport. With only one security checkpoint in operation, it was not running constantly. Meaning that getting to the airport with two hours before his flight had been overkill. Luckily the restaurant/bar had been open. Mark felt silly sitting at a table when he had no intention of ordering food, but he decided it might be even more awkward to sit at the bar with a non-alcoholic drink. Besides, there were plenty of open tables.

“Need anything else?” the bartender/waiter came over to check on him again.

“Nope, this is great, thanks.”

The man grunted at him and turned away.

A few other customers sat the scattered tables, either with laptops open or with a companion. Mark had neither. This would be a quick trip, only one night and he’d packed a small carry-on. He’d forgotten entertainment. He’d been so preoccupied with his life for the past two months he hadn’t even thought about needing a book or music or a movie.

Mark took a long sip of the overly sweet tea and pursed his lips. He should have ordered half sweet and half unsweet tea. He usually did. But he wasn’t thinking today. He’d called up his contact at the hotel in Miami, agreed to finally take the job he’d been pressured about for the last three years, and quit the resort.

Everything happened so fast. He’d always been sure to network and maintain a professional online presence just in case the rainy day came when he needed a new job. But he’d never actually thought he’d do it. The short time between idea and implementation made him think anything could happen.

Like he could turn around and head back to the island and track down Lizzie. He could show up on her doorstep and kiss her. He could tell her everything he’d been thinking of since she’d kissed him. He could tell her how he felt about her and he might finally let himself be happy.

Lizzie made him happy. Her sweet, sunny, silliness gave him a lightness. Being with her was fun, even when they were working. He found himself lonely for the four days they were apart when he had a weekend and then when she had her weekend. He hated Saturdays now because it meant the start of their days apart.

But could he trust those feelings? Could he trust his instincts? They’d been dead wrong with his last relationship. Mark took a tiny sip of his too sweet tea, needing a distraction from his thoughts. He couldn’t run. He was forced to confront them.

Life with Cynthia had been comfortable but never romantic or passionate. He didn’t need to be with her. He’d never missed her when she was gone, even when they were broken up. He’d never understood family and never wanted one. His parents hadn’t supported him and he hadn’t appreciated that he could create a family where he would support and love his children. Phil had shown him what he was missing. When Charlie turned one and became such an adorable little boy, Mark realized what he was missing out on by dragging his feet. 

The quiet of the restaurant/bar and the airport in general was deafening. Mark looked over at his companions again. No one seemed to speak above a whisper and even those at laptops managed to keep their typing to a minimum. Was he going to wait around for another hour and a half? Mark got up from the bar and walked out of the restaurant towards the small lounge in the very center of the building.

The automatic entrance doors, only several yards away, whooshed open. Mark caught a half second glimpse of her. He did a double take, seeing her here was so unexpected he froze.

“MARK,” she yelled and ran towards him, a broad smile spread across her cheeks.

Taking three big steps, he reached her and put his arms out, like he’d pull her in close.
No, stop, what are you doing? You can’t grab her and hug her. You’re leaving, remember?
He balled his hands into tight fists at his side. The smile fell from her face and shattered on the floor.
Disappointment?

As he watched, he saw the smoke coming out of her ears. He’d never seen her mad before. He’d seen frustrated, upset, scared, and anxious. But he’d never seen true anger. Her cheeks glowed bright red and her hazel eyes looked stormy.

“Why are you here?” she asked, throwing her hands up to emphasize her point.

“I’m catching a plane. Why are you here?”

“To stop you,” she hissed, poking him in the chest with an index finger after each syllable.

With each prod, he flinched. Warmth radiated over him, the epicenter her fingertip planted squarely in the middle of his chest.
Don’t get distracted. You have to leave
.

“How did you find me?” 

“We live on a tiny island, it’s not exactly tough to track someone down,” she replied, pulling her finger away. She remained only a few inches away.

“No, really. How did you find me?” Looking down at her, he watched her shrug and her eyes dart along the floor.
Does she feel the pull between us too?

“When Cade gave me your job this morning, I tracked you down.”

“And you rushed to the airport?”

“Well, no. I went to your house and then went back to your friend’s bar.”

“Really?” Mark shrugged.
Because no one has ever put in so much effort before
he wanted to say.

“Really. Why are you leaving?” Lizzie asked. The bite of her question lost its venom.

“It’s time Lizzie. I never thought I’d be here this long.”

“You’re leaving Scooter?”

“No, of course not. He’s coming with me. I’m just going down to get everything set up.”

Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest, raised her chin, and glared at him. “He’s going to hate Miami. It’s too crowded. It’s wrong to take him there.”

Mark frowned.
Would Scooter hate Miami?
Probably. But, he’s a dog he’ll adapt.

“What about your buddy, Phil? I’ll admit he’s not the friendliest sort, but still. He’s your friend. You’re leaving him?”

Phil isn’t friendly?
Mark couldn’t even imagine that, although he probably had something to do with it, given everything he’d told Phil about Lizzie. His best friend would hardly be impartial, hearing very one-sided stories about her.

Mark sighed and put his hands in his pockets. “He has a life here. He wouldn’t move. Besides I’m not moving far.”

“Yes, you are. You’re leaving and you’ll never be back.”

“Lizzie, come on.”

“Well what about me?”

He swallowed, something lodged in his throat by his Adam’s apple. He pushed back against the swell of frustration and anger. He’d wanted Phil to yell and rant, but he hadn’t. He’d wanted Lizzie to show up at the office and change his mind
yesterday.
But now?

“What about you?”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

His breath caught at her words. He’d been waiting for her to get to the point. He cleared his throat and put his hands in his pockets. Struggling to keep his face hard, even as her soft and quiet words unsettled him. The sounds of a shuffle, the light flap of her flip-flop against the tile floor, snapped him back to the moment.

I don’t want to have this conversation here.

“Of course you do, Lizzie. Think about it. With me gone, you get the job and your life lines up the way you want.”

She bit her lip but didn’t reply.

“This is for the best.”

“No,” she said and shook her head. “We are a team, whether you like it or not. Whether Frank Cade likes it or not. And whether or not you believe it. You need me and I can’t do this without you.”

Is she still talking about the job?

Lizzie took another step forward and poked him in the chest with her index finger again. She was close enough he could wrap his arms around her. He could lift her up and kiss her.
I could make everything moot
. 

“I can’t do this with anyone but you. And I don’t want to. I want to be with you,” Lizzie implored, tipping her chin back to look him in the eyes.

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Mark forced his suddenly wooden legs to take a step back. His body screamed at him to step forward, to grab her and not let her go. His palms itched to rub her back and reassure her. But he couldn’t, too much was on the line for him if he was wrong.

“Go Lizzie,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Go Lizzie. Go. Take the job. It’s yours.”

“You didn’t listen to anything I said, did you?”

She shrunk back, her shoulders hunching as she took a step away. He did listen to what she’d said.
But can I trust my instincts?

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve made my decision. I’m getting on the next flight,” he replied, his tone rough and gruff.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. Go Lizzie,” he said, louder. He pointed to the door.

She looked dumbstruck. She turned her head to see where he pointed and turned back to him. A tear rolled down her cheek. Mark scowled. They’d made enough of a scene. He didn’t want to get more dramatic for his fellow travelers. Mark looked around to confirm that everyone was indeed watching them. Some had the good sense to turn away. But a few didn’t.

He turned back to her. She looked at him and nodded and left.

Mark stood in place, his arms clasped behind his back, and watched her walk out the door. He didn’t breath until she had left the building. He needed her to go. Because what was the other option? He couldn’t stay. Staying meant he’d take her job and her life away from her.

*****

Lizzie walked out of the airport, crossed the crosswalk to the parking lot, and got in her car. She felt like a balloon that had been popped. What more could she have said to him to change his mind? What else did he need to hear?

She turned the key in the ignition and drove back towards St. Simons. She couldn’t go home. She didn’t want to run into Rose. She couldn’t go down to the Pier Village or she might run into Phil. She didn’t have answers that either of them would like. She hated how it had all played out at the airport.

No, there was only one spot for her. She drove over the causeway and headed to Fort Frederica. She turned off her air conditioning and rolled all her windows down, letting the wind dry the tears she refused to acknowledge. Lizzie swallowed the sob that formed in her throat and sucked in fresh air as she drove under the live oaks. She pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car.

Wiping the back of her hands on her wet cheeks, she refused to indulge herself in chest heaving sobs. Her traitorous eyes might leak but she would not add any emphasis to her pain. She’d spent too much time crying over the past year. She pulled back her shoulders and walked toward the battery overlooking the marsh. She’d first come to Fort Frederica after the accident. When she hadn’t remembered how to breathe, let alone to live another day. Walking among the ruins, on the long forgotten grassy boulevards, towards the sea, she’d been reminded that time put enough distance to scab if not to properly heal.

Whatever direction her life had been heading in had come to an abrupt stop after the accident. She’d felt the halt, had felt unable to move forward. But Patrick had helped her and so had Rose. They were her family.

Walking over the wooden bridge and past the tabby foundations, she continued on until she reached the grassy knoll next to the battery. A family with two little boys played on the cannons aimed out over the marsh. Lizzie smiled at the scene. She’d started to get to a place where she could remember her parents without the pain of the loss. Patrick had been responsible for that, for taking on the burden of her as well as his little family.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed her brother.

“Frizz, why haven’t I heard from you since my baby was born? I haven’t slept in a week.” Patrick greeted her after picking up on the first ring.

“Hi Patrick, what are you talking about? I called you.”

“I’ve left you like three messages today. Aren’t you calling me back?”

“Sorry,” she replied. “I haven’t really been paying attention. I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s been…complicated here.”

“Talk to me.”

“I got the job.”

“What job?”

“Remember the job I applied for a couple months ago? The Manager of Special Events job? They told me this morning.”

“But I thought that was that guy…uh Mark. I thought it was Mark’s job.”

“Yeah, it was,” Lizzie replied.

“So…what? He got fired?”

“No. Mark left,” she whispered.

She kept her voice low and quiet. Afraid of saying the words too loudly, for fear they’d become real. Lizzie sighed and closed her eyes, fighting against the frustration and the tears building up. They had no understanding. They were colleagues. Anything more that she thought existed between them didn’t. Why get upset?