The Way To A Soldier's Heart. GINA WILKINS
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was beginning to interfere with their business. Elle wondered if she should push her partner to open up to her. If Kristen wanted out of the business, she needed to say so—though the very thought of losing the shop made Elle’s heart ache.
“I’d really like to know what you’re planning, Kristen,” she said bluntly. “I know you’re still hurting over the breakup with Casey, but is there something else, too? Are you unhappy with the work schedules? With any of the decisions we’ve made lately? You’re okay financially?”
Though Kristen supplemented her three-day-a-week coffee shop schedule by singing in a local club on Friday nights, Elle had no other income outside The Perkery. Other than their divorce settlement, she received no support from Glenn. Elle had adopted Charlotte on her own after he backed out of the proceedings, so he didn’t owe her child support. He had also openly expressed his doubts that Elle and Kristen would succeed with their fledging business. Elle had been proud every single month the books had balanced, almost all of them now. It had been both a matter of vindication and of personal fulfillment for her.
Still, it would be difficult, if not impossible, for her to buy out Kristen’s share. If Kristen had decided she wanted out, it was possible they’d have to sell the business. And while Elle told herself she would survive the disappointment and start over, the prospect hurt.
“I’m fine,” Kristen repeated, her voice almost mechanical. “Like you said, I’m still stinging over Casey, but I’ll get over it. As for money, I’m okay. Casey and I maybe overindulged in a few luxuries while we were together, but I’ll get my part paid off. The club’s been after me to perform on both Friday and Saturday nights. Not a lot of extra cash, but it’s something.”
She drew a deep breath before adding, “Maybe I get a little restless sometimes, but that’s natural, right? I mean, especially after a bad breakup. I find myself thinking maybe a change of scenery would help. Maybe it would be good to start all over someplace new. But then I tell myself I’m just trying to run away from the pain, and it wouldn’t really help.”
Elle found little reassurance in those words. Certainly not in her friend’s distant, unhappy expression. Telling herself not to dwell on potential problems, she focused instead on Kristen’s pain, wanting to help in whatever way she could. “If you need some time off, you know you only have to say so. You don’t have to wait until your scheduled vacation time. Mom and I are willing to work with you and your crew, and we can always add a couple of temp workers if necessary.”
“I’ll think about it, but I’ll probably just tough it out. Thanks, Elle,” Kristen added automatically. Her attempt at a smile was simply heartbreaking.
Frustration and genuine concern made Elle’s tone more urgent than she intended. “Don’t let it go too long, okay? Of course I worry about the business, but I’m even more concerned about you. If you need help getting over this from a professional counselor, or just with a nice vacation, you should acknowledge it. Deal with it.”
Kristen forced a smile, though there was a spark of irritation now. “Of course. But let’s just get back to our meeting, okay? So, what did we decide about next week’s soup choices?”
Cautioning herself not to borrow trouble, Elle reached for her tablet computer, deciding it was best to focus on business for now. Which wouldn’t stop her from worrying later.
* * *
SHANE DABBED AT his mouth with a linen napkin Friday after a second meeting with Wind Shadow Resort owner Trevor Farrell. A tall and slim man in his late thirties, with light brown hair and clear blue eyes, Trevor was already quite successful with this, his first resort, and well into plans to open a couple more. After their meeting that morning, he’d invited Shane to join him and another veteran friend for lunch in the resort’s upscale restaurant, Torchlight.
“That was the best lunch I’ve had in a long time,” Shane said to his host.
“I’ll pass along your compliments.” Trevor looked pleased, though he probably heard rave reviews on a daily basis. “Our chef is one of the resort’s greatest assets.”
Walt Becker, Trevor’s friend and attorney, chuckled when he set down his water glass with his right hand. Shane had noted that Walt’s left hand was a prosthetic. Had he been injured in battle? It hadn’t been mentioned, but Shane wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. Looking like the former marine sergeant he was, Walt was gruff, friendly and blunt-spoken. Shane liked him. Liked them both, actually.
“Trev’s threatened to lock down the resort if his chef tries to leave,” Walt commented. “He lost one of his most valued staff when his second-in-command, Adam Scott, left last month to follow his new bride and their son all the way to Seattle. Trev’s still pouting about it.”
Trevor smiled wryly. “Hardly pouting. I’m pleased for Adam and Joanna. Adam has a new management job with a luxury hotel in Seattle. He started two weeks ago. I talked with him yesterday, and he sounded happy. I’m glad about that.”
“You miss having him around,” Walt said. “So do I. But like you, I’m happy for them.”
“Yes, well, you’re practically family. After all, you are still seeing Joanna’s sister,” Trevor teased his friend with a wink. “And I’d be willing to lay money on there being another wedding in the near future.”
Walt didn’t disagree. In fact, Shane thought he looked rather smug at the prospect.
“But we’re being rude.” Trevor turned back to Shane. “I hope you’ve been enjoying your visit, Shane. You said you’re staying in Shorty’s Landing?”
“Yes. Nice little town.”
“It is.”
Walt nodded. “Bubba’s Grill on Salt Marsh Avenue has the best burgers in the area. No offense, Trev, the burgers here are great, but Bubba’s, man.”
Trevor grinned, obviously taking no umbrage. “They are good, I’ll give you that.”
Walt looked at Shane again. “If you’re looking for breakfast, you’ll find good pastries and coffee at The Perkery on Salt Marsh Avenue. I’d say their selection is second only to the ones you’d have here.”
For some reason, Shane felt almost indignant on Elle’s behalf. He couldn’t imagine that Trevor’s pastry chef made anything better than Elle’s chocolate-filled doughnuts.
“I’ve stopped into The Perkery the past couple of days,” he said. “Everything I had was delicious.”
“So, you’d have met Elle and Janet O’Meara,” Trevor commented. He laughed softly before asking, “Did Janet read your palm?”
Remembering that odd first encounter, Shane suppressed a wry grimace. “Not exactly.”
“She’s a sweetheart. Maybe not the most reliable prognosticator, but as kind-hearted a woman as I’ve met. Elle’s great, too, as is her partner, Kristen Boyd. A real asset to their community. Elle spearheads several fund-raisers for local charities. I try to donate on behalf of the resort whenever I can.”
It was encouraging to hear that his niece’s adoptive mother was well respected in the community. Still, Shane wasn’t fully convinced that Charlotte would receive everything she needed as the daughter of a busy, part-owner of a small business that probably operated on a shoestring budget. Not to mention the woman’s self-proclaimed psychic mother. Having been raised by a single parent and a grandmother himself, he was hardly judging those aspects of Charlotte’s life—but was a plastic-fenced play area behind the counter of a coffee shop the best place for a toddler to spend her days? Did she have other children to play with—friends, cousins, neighbors? Enough variety of routine to keep her engaged and learning?
Walt laid his napkin on the table. “I had coffee and a muffin at The Perkery one morning a couple of weeks ago. That little girl of Elle’s is cute as a button. Little heartbreaker in the making, I’m thinking.”
“I haven’t had the