Tessa nodded. “That’s good.”
“Do you know why I have the free time? I lost my job. It was freelance, in a way, because it wasn’t a desk job, but the outlet offered me consistent work, and the pay was great. It was too consistent, though, because their legal team decided with the amount of work I was getting, I should have been a salaried employee with benefits, and in case I would ever get the idea to sue for either, they cut me loose. I am currently unemployed, with no paycheck, no home, no place to go. Lousy reason to finally make time to visit my parents.”
Tessa put down her plate. “You—you don’t have a job? But what about the Cook Islands and the article you were writing? Did you make that up?”
“No,” Paul said. “The Cook Islands article was the last one being funded. I’m still required to write the article as part of the deal since they already paid me for it. And the article on Mystic Water is legit.Southern Livinghas already published it online, and the feature will be in their next publication. The article will help get my name back out there. I haven’t had to pitch myself for jobs in a long time, so it’s like starting over.”
“But you have a portfolio, so that should help, right?” Paul nodded. “Did you tell your parents?”
“Of course not. Mom would worry, and Dad would try to get me to work at the diner. Settle down here.”
“And that would be awful,” Tessa said with an eyeroll.
Paul poked his finger into her knee. “I never said that, but settling down is difficult for me. I’ve been on the run for years.”
Tessa furrowed her brow. “What are you running from?”
Paul locked eyes with Tessa, and she couldn’t look away. A mockingbird sang outside. “Monica.”
How swiftly that one name caused her stomach to clench. She put down her half-eaten waffle. “The fiancée.” The word burned on her tongue like a jalapeño seed.
“Ex,” Paul said and clenched his jaw.
Tessa reached for a bottle of Coke and unscrewed the top. “But she called this morning.”
“So?”
“Does that make her lessex?”
“Hell no,” Paul said.
Anger rippled off him like bubbles of boiling water spilling over the sides of a pot. The mint shivered beside Tessa. She petted the leaves, releasing its sweet fragrance. “Careful,” she said. “You’re upsetting the mint.” She tried to smile at him.
Paul rolled his head on his neck. “Five years ago I lived in Boston. I took a job as an architect at a local firm when I was just out of college. I worked my way up. Good clients. Good pay. Monica worked there too, and she was also the owner’s daughter. We dated for a couple of years. I proposed. She said yes. We started planning a wedding, but she decided married life wasn’t for her.” He popped a piece of bacon into his mouth.
Tessa waited. Paul reached for the blackberry cobbler and a spoon.
“And?” Tessa asked.
“And that’s it.” He shoved his spoon into the dark fruit and crumbly topping.
“No way. You can’t end the story there. What kind of girl decides married life isn’t for her? What did she want instead of you? Was she out of her mind? How did she evensaythat? ‘Oh, by the way, I’ve decided married life isn’t for me,’ and you, what? Just said, ‘Okay, have a nice life’?”
Paul chuckled. “Thank you for thinking that a girl must be out of her mind to turn me down.” He slid a spoonful of cobbler into his mouth.
Tessa shrugged. “If the shoe fits.”
His grin widened. “This is really good,” he said pointing at the cobbler with his spoon.
Tessa nodded. “Your mama makes the best.”
Paul continued, “Monica probably decided marrying me wasn’t what she wanted when she went on a weekend getaway with Jerry from the Cooper build.”
Tessa’s mouth fell open. “She was running around with someone else?”
Paul nodded. “I shouldn’t have been surprised. Women threw themselves at Jerry, and who could blame them? He’s rich, charismatic, and successful. He’s probably a great guy if you forgive the fact that he was my coworker and knew we were engaged. She begged me to forgive her and to understand that she and Jerry were soulmates. She blubbered all over the office, like she was the victim. I said I’d forgive her in about five years, but until then, they needed to stay out of my face.
“I couldn’t stand seeing them together, so I quit. I needed a change. I had taken a trip to Paris during college, so I wrote a travel article about finding your way around the city if you don’t speak French. An online magazine ran it. I wrote another one and another one, and one day, I had a steady job. I left Boston and never went back. I figured Monica and Jerry deserved each other. They’d get married and have perfect kids. Except he’s now rekindled his romance with his high school sweetheart and hung Monica out to dry.”
