Tidal Patterns (Golden Shores Book 1) (7 page)

Maybe she’d been knocked down, but she hadn’t been knocked out. She’d figure out something, she had no other choice.

* * * * *

Mark got up from his desk chair and crossed his office to look out his window. Staring at a computer screen all morning, analyzing the legalese and trying to decipher all of its meanings and interpretations, made him want to rip his hair out. He’d never gone to law school; that had been Phil’s thing. After spending most of the past few years looking over contracts, however, he could litigate with the best of them.

Eager to give his eyes a break from the tiny print, he watched a heron take flight and soar through the sky. And then she barreled towards her cottage at top speed. Had an emergency arisen? Why was she here on her day off?

Grabbing the stress ball out of the top drawer of his desk, he squeezed it hard and returned to stare out the window.
How did I remember that? And why?
Griping the ball until it had completely compressed didn’t ease the tension or shake the sense of foreboding at her sudden appearance.

Glancing at the clock on the wall next to the door, he was surprised that it was nearly time for lunch. He needed a break from his endeavors anyways. Maybe he’d go over and ask her to join him for a sandwich.

Walking out of his office without even bothering to turn off his monitor or lock the door behind him, he smirked to himself as he followed her path. The overcast sky overhead illuminated all of the green surrounding him; it made him feel like he was in an old movie that had been retouched to be shown in full color. He whistled as he approached the tabby path leading up to the cottage’s door. Asking her to lunch felt right. He’d given himself enough of a pep talk the night before that it would be okay to take a chance.
I think she’ll say yes. And even if she doesn’t, it’s just lunch. It’s not a big deal
.

He knocked.

“Yeah?” came the response, directly on the other side.

“Lizzie? It’s Mark. Can I come in?”

He heard shuffling and the door opened.

“Hi Mark, come on in.”

The friendliness of her greeting didn’t reach her eyes, he noticed. For once, the brown didn’t sparkle and her eyes looked weary and faded. He puzzled over that as he followed her over to her desk. She parked herself behind the desk but with no chair for him, he clasped his hands behind his back and stood before her. He shifted his weight.

From his position, he towered over her. Not that she seemed to notice.

“Be with you in a minute. I just need to finish this email.” Her fingers flew across the keyboard in angry, short pecks. Whatever she was typing, she was intent. He watched her for several seconds until, perhaps feeling his gaze, she turned back to look at him.

“How can I help you?” she asked.

Her tone wasn’t unfriendly or cold but it was direct and short. He reconsidered. It didn’t seem like the time to ask her out, even for something as innocuous as lunch at their place of business.

“I,” he stopped to clear his throat. “I was going over some of the latest contracts I’ve had from events and I wanted to talk to you. I think there is a lot of room for growth.”

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. When she made no move to reply, he continued.

“If you have time today, I thought we could discuss some opportunities that might help,” he continued.

“Did he put you up to this?”

He furrowed his brow. “Who?”

“Mr. Cade. Did he put you up to this?”

“Fr— Mr. Cade? What do you mean?“

He stopped himself just in time. Referring to his boss in such a casual way didn’t endear him to others at the resort. Months ago, he made a conscience effort to keep his relationship with his boss low-key.

She quirked an eyebrow but didn’t immediately comment.

“Look, I’m just trying to offer some help, that’s it. If you don’t want it, fine.” He cringed. His tone was a bit angrier than he would have liked, but his frustration from the morning slipped out. She hadn’t been his target, but from the look on her face and her downcast eyes, he’d hit a bulls-eye.

“You know what this is supposed to be my day off. I came in for an interview and now…” She sighed but didn’t look up at him.

She’d been interviewing for the job?
Guilt washed over him. He clenched his right hand into a fist until the fingernails bit into the meat of his palm. Was it too late to tell her that he had applied too? He hadn’t intended subterfuge. But how could he bring it up now?

“Can we talk business some other time? I need to get out of here,” she said, barely above a whisper.

He watched her uncross her arms and put her face in her hands. He’d hardly have recognized her. She’d seemed perennially happy and yet either he or Frank Cade had somehow extinguished her light. She looked helpless and almost broken. He had no words or response.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see myself out.”

Stalking across the room, he opened the door and shut it behind himself. He kicked himself for the inopportune moment. And for his own stupidity.

He drove to the public beach on the south end of the island. He never made time to get over there often enough. If anything, he preferred this beach to St. Simons. No matter how hot or cold it might be on the island, the beach with its cool breezes and warm water was always the perfect temperature. He parked his car in the lot, turned off the engine, and sat.

Did I just screw up my chance with her? Why didn’t I tell her? What will she think now, if I do get the job?

The palm trees hugging the edge of the parking lot swayed in the wind and the sky darkened further. His stomach churned, suddenly as choppy as the waves on the ocean. He had to accept the consequences of his inaction.

Maybe she’s better off if I do get the job. If she broke so easily when dealing with Frank, she’d implode working closely with him. It had happened to far more seasoned colleagues.

Reasoning didn’t ease his indigestion. But he had to distance himself. If Frank intended to promote him, he’d be her boss. He had to start putting separation between them and he’d need to start over with her to earn the respect a boss needed.

The low hum of the copy machine in the windowless room called to Mark like a siren. White noise lured him to sit in a chair and rest for a minute. Yawning, he forced his eyes open and did a couple of jumping jacks to wake up. At last the job finished, grabbing the hot stack of papers off the tray, he quickly counted the pages, ensuring everything had been copied.

At least I’m not reading these tonight
. Narrowing his eyes, he couldn’t make out any of the words or sentences. It all read like a jumble of letters with no rhyme or reason to their placement. After a long day, getting over to the resort by eight and staying until six, he was ready to leave.

Walking to the door, he put his hand on the knob to turn it and stopped. After his talk with Lizzie, he couldn’t shake the guilt over not saying something to her earlier. He’d dodged Frank all day didn’t want to get dragged into another conversation about the job, worried about what he might be told.

I should have been honest with her when I had a chance. Why didn’t I say something when Scooter and I ran into her on the beach?

When he was assured of the silence, he turned the knob slowly and snuck out of the copy room. Careful not to let the door slam in the frame behind him, he walked quickly down the hall.
When I applied, I didn’t know anyone else wanted that job.
But after his talk with Lizzie, he knew someone who would be very upset to lose it.

Before he even understood his purpose, he jogged down the stairs, out the door, and stood on the verandah. He continued on across the lawn towards her cottage and then stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t go over there. What would he say?

I’m sorry. I came over here yesterday to ask you out and I ended up insulting you. I’d like another shot. Maybe we can both forget about yesterday?

He stood still in the twilight, on full display of any guest or employee. His position wasn’t the best for trying to hide out and figure out his point. He needed more cover. He changed course and walked to the shade of the moss draped, live oaks near the water. The massive trees had branches the size of trunks that swept up and out in all directions. He leaned his back against one of the trees and stared out across the water.

I could stay here all day
, he thought.

His phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw Frank’s number.

Leaving after a ten-hour day isn’t a crime.
Apprehension twisted his gut, like he’d been back in high school and got caught skipping class. Cutting out had never given him pause, it had been one of his few chances to get his parents’ attention. Letting down the teachers who cared about him, however, had ripped him to shreds.

“Hello?”

“Mark. It’s Frank. I just stopped by your office.”

“I needed some air. I’m down by the water but I’m coming back in now,” he rushed to add, reassuring both his boss and himself of his purpose.

“No, no, no. No need. It’s late and I’m in my car heading out for dinner with my wife and her family. Did you get a chance to look over the new contracts before we send them over to events?”

Mark cleared his throat. He’d spent an entire day going over the contracts, analyzing the wording of each phrase. Trying to gauge every interpretation of each line wasn’t his strong suit, but he struggled through it all the same.

“I was just finishing up.”

“Good, good. Leave me your notes before you head out tonight and I’ll look at them first thing in the morning. But I wanted to catch you and tell you that it’s official. You’ve got the job and I need you to get started as soon as possible.”

“Oh, wow. Okay. Sure, that’s great,” Mark replied, his words tumbling out as he struggled to process the news.

Damn it
.

“Great. I’m going to move you down to the cottage in events. I want you to be in the thick of things over there, so you can really keep an eye on it all.”

He gulped. He’d be moving
in
to her office? He couldn’t imagine that would be a smooth transition.

“Sure, sure, I get it,” he reluctantly agreed.

“Start packing up. I want you there by the end of the week. And congratulations. I think you’ll do big things in this role.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Have a good night.”

Hanging up, he stuffed the phone back in his pocket. Frank needed to move quickly to fill the position, but Mark hadn’t imagined he’d have such short notice to pack. He exhaled loudly. He had no time to think about making things right with Lizzie. And now that he was her boss, pursuing anything was definitely out of the question. He’d have to keep a discreet and professional distance.

He peered out over the water again with longing. He’d love to be out on the water. He’d kayaked some when he’d first come to Jekyll Island and he hadn’t been someone’s right hand man. In the early days, he’d had plenty of time for happy hours after work and beach days. It only took him a few years to become indispensible. He hadn’t understood the mixed blessing of job security. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone out in his kayak and he still hadn’t found the time to learn to paddle board either. Phil had. Phil had become practically a master at it and posted photos on social media constantly.

Yawning, he turned back to the hotel. His workday gained another couple of hours with this news. He stomped up the stairs and down the hall; he didn’t care who heard. He turned the knob and pushed open his office door and settled in behind his desk. He texted Phil.

Can you or Trish go let Scooter out and feed him? Have to be here late. I’ll stop by and tell you why on my way home.

Sure.
Came Phil’s response within seconds.

He hated missing out on his nightly beach run, but it couldn’t be helped. Now that he had the job, he needed to triple check the new contracts to make sure that he hadn’t accidentally screwed his new department. If Frank had thought about it, he would have told him about the job after he’d received the new contracts. But he hadn’t so Mark intended to capitalize on the opportunity. He didn’t let himself move for the next three hours, not until his eyes crossed from reading too much fine print without a magnifying glass and the sun had gone down.

Grabbing his briefcase, his phone, and the contracts he turned off the lights and locked his office. The cleaning crew’s shift had begun, and Mark walked into Frank’s open office to drop the contracts off on top of his keyboard. With a wave to the man vacuuming the carpet, he turned and left the building as quickly as possible.

He needed a drink. He turned over the engine and drove off towards Phil’s bar. He parked in the alley and let himself in through the back. For a weekday, the crowd size was impressive. Nearly every table and stool was occupied. He navigated his way to the bar, careful not to jostle anyone or walk in between a conversation. He found a free stool at the end of the bar, plopped down, and waited for Phil to acknowledge him.

Phil saw everything. His peripheral vision was probably as good as David Beckham’s and came in handy for tending bar and making sure the customers were topped off and happy. After a few seconds, Phil made eye contact and then did a double take and walked over.

“Hey! What’s going on? Is everything okay?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine. I had to stay and finish some work because I’m moving up. I got the job,” Mark announced.

“Congrats! This is huge!” Phil exclaimed. He reached over and clapped him on the back. Phil walked to the shelf at the back wall of the bar, pulled down the twenty-one year old Macallan, and poured him a drink.

“Yeah, thanks.”

He took the tumbler from his friend’s outstretched hand and swirled the amber liquid for a minute. He hated to waste a good drink on a bad mood.

“You’re not pleased?” Phil asked, pulling away to return to his post. He grabbed a bar cloth and a few pint glasses and began drying them.

“I don’t know. This is a promotion for me and a great opportunity. But…” he said, he took a long sip from his scotch.

“Maybe it’s the first step towards moving on,” Phil offered.

“Spoken like a true barkeep. You sure have developed a knack for this line of work,” he replied, eager to change the subject.

Is he talking about Cynthia? What does he mean, moving on?

Mark didn’t want to start talking about himself too much, for fear of what he might reveal to Phil that he hadn’t figured out yet.

“What can I say? I’m exactly where I always wanted to be,” Phil interrupted his thoughts. “I have a wife and a son, own a business, and can walk to the beach every day. What more could I want?”

Over the last decade, he’d never been envious of his friend and they’d had plenty of history together. But now? It gave him pause. He was happy for him. Long gone was the perpetually stressed, tightly wound guy who’d snap at the smallest infraction. In his place was the relaxed, happy, family man.

“I was always jealous of you,” Phil continued.

Mark snapped his head to focus on his friend. “Jealous of me? Why?”

“You always knew what you wanted. You worked the hardest. And you are definitely the most fearless guy I know.”

“I don’t know how fearless I am anymore. I’d love to do what you do. Work for myself, have a home and a family. I’ve never had any of that.”

“It’s not as perfect as it looks. I’m still working all the time. I don’t ever seem to have enough time in my day. And I hate the moments when I let my stress come out and make me short with my family.”

Hearing about the problems in Phil’s life with his family didn’t discourage him from wanting what they had. Because even with their troubles, they still had each other. They supported and loved each other and sacrificed for each other.
I want that.

Mark clenched his jaw, remembering the drunken confession of his father when he was only fifteen, telling him that he had never been wanted. Even though he hadn’t been told so before, he’d understood it through their actions since he was little. Leaving at eighteen, he’d never looked back. 

“Yeah, I get that. But you are working for yourself. You’d work as hard here as you would managing a big box store. Only here, all that hard work is funneled into your enterprise. You’re building something for your family.” His voice cracked with emotion. Draining the tumbler, he set the glass on the bar.

“You’ll get that too, one day.”

“I thought I had,” Mark mumbled.

Phil grabbed the empty tumbler from in front of him and refilled it. He slid the drink across the smooth, well-worn top of the walnut bar. He grabbed a tumbler and poured himself a drink too. He raised his glass to Mark and took a long sip before putting it back down on the counter.

“Everything will come together for you. But it’s going to happen in time. You can’t rush,” Phil told him.

Mark closed his eyes and took a drink. He didn’t want to talk about his ex anymore or how he’d worked himself into the ground to forget her. Coming over to talk to Phil about the job had somehow shifted into poking at his old wounds. He couldn’t be mad at Phil. But he’d learned that ripping off a bandage never got any easier. And the cuts he’d been hiding underneath hadn’t even begun to heal.

Mark drained his scotch, opened his eyes, and put down the glass.

“Thanks, but I’m done.”

“Do you need a ride?”

The creases in Phil’s forehead and the seriousness of his eyes belied his concern. He’d always been there, even when Mark hadn’t realized he’d needed someone.

“You can spend the night if you want,” Phil continued.

Mark shook his head. “No thanks. I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Phil nodded and turned back to help another customer. He’d neglected the others for too long and the wait staff needed his help attending the crowd. Mark walked back to his car, and drove the few miles to home.

He didn’t know what hurt him about his situation. Was he upset about losing the direction he thought he was going in? Or losing her? No, he shook his head. Not her. He hated that now he questioned every moment they’d spent together, searching for a clue or a sign. As if there was a way he’d be able to avoid making the same mistake again. No matter how much he went back and thought about their time together, none of her revelation made any more sense. He parked his car and walked inside, Scooter waiting by the door as faithfully as ever.

“Let’s get to bed buddy.” He petted the dog under the chin as the tail thumped against the ground.

At least I have Scooter. Because I don’t have much else
.

* * * * *

Lizzie sat at her desk and stared at the black monitor.
It’s Friday, I’m slammed with weddings all weekend. I don’t have time to sit around and worry about the job.
They didn’t have any time to waste either. The first major event for the Manager of Special Events was less than six weeks away.

What was going on? Why hadn’t she heard anything back about the job?

Pulling her cell phone out of her purse and placing it on the desk, she studied it. Personal calls during business hours would probably be frowned upon by Frank Cade, she reasoned. But then again, Frank Cade probably frowned upon everything she did.