“This place must be quite a change for you then if you come from Atlanta. It’s a far cry from the big city.”
“You could say that,” he agreed, glancing out the window at the ocean. “But it isn’t an unpleasant one. The pace here is calming and the view…stunning,” he said, bringing his eyes back to me. “Yes, I could definitely get used to a place like this.”
I smiled at his appreciation for our little town. “To be honest, it took me some time to adjust as well.”
“You’re not from here either?”
I shook my head. “Moved here about a year ago…from Tennessee.”
“Tennessee, eh?” He gave a nod of approval. “I spent a little time up there a few years back. What part are you from?”
“East Tennessee…around Knoxville.”
“Ah, Knoxville,” he mused, his gaze becoming distant. “I have a cousin that lives in Knoxville. That’s a lovely part of the country. The lakes, the mountains. I considered moving there myself, once. So why’d you leave such a beautiful place?”
The question had been asked before, by nearly everyone I’d met. But this felt different, like he was genuinely interested in the answer.
“I was tired of chasing after dreams that would never come true,” I admitted, shocked at my own candor. “So I left.”
He gave an understanding nod, swirling the last of the coffee in his cup. “Well,” he said, checking his watch, “I hate to eat and run, but I’m afraid duty calls.” He slid off the stool and reachedinto the pocket of his jacket, producing a handful of bills which he laid on the counter. “But thank you —for the delicious pie and the conversation. This has been…helpful.”
I nodded, my fingers brushing over the crisp bills as I mentally calculated the tip. “Any time.”
“Will you be here tomorrow?” he asked as he pivoted toward the door.
I nodded and he gave me a lopsided grin. “Good. In that case, I’ll see you then.”
When we had closed up for the night, Judy and I sat down at the bar and ate our dinner. We were quiet. The words exchanged earlier with Andrew filled my thoughts. The restaurant was different when it was empty, like a stage after the actors have gone home. It had a certain hollowness that could only be filled by patrons.
“Who was that man I saw you talking to earlier?” Judy asked, eyebrows arched in curiosity.
“Rosie’s lawyer…Andrew Hastings.”
“Andrew,” she repeated, her eyes narrowing slightly as she chewed her lip. “He seemed quite taken with you.”
“Seriously? We were just talking.”
Judy smirked. “Just talking, huh? That’s how it always starts.” She popped a fry into her mouth, grinning at me over her plate.
I rolled my eyes at her but couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at my lips. “I highly doubt getting to know a waitress at a random restaurant in the middle of nowhere is at the top of his priorities list. Besides, he’s here on business.”
Judy took her plate to the sink and rinsed it off. When she returned, her playful expression was gone, replaced by a more serious one. “Did he give you any indication that he would be able to help Rosie?”
I paused, my mind replaying our conversation. “He seemed hopeful, but he also said it wouldn't be easy. That he’d seen guilty verdicts with far less evidence.”
Judy nodded, her gaze lingering on the empty tables before she spoke again. “We can only hope he knows what he’s doing, and that Rosie will be okay. Otherwise, we’re all going to be in for a very rough time.”
23
The next day,as promised, Andrew was back. He walked into the restaurant and took up the same seat as the day before, a small grin appearing when he saw me. As I served him a lunch of fried fish and hushpuppies, he told me stories about the places he’d been, the things he’d done, and the people he’d met were mesmerizing, painting a picture of a life lived to the fullest.
In between taking orders and pouring drinks, I told Andrew about Sims Chapel, the people I knew, and my years spent teaching. He listened attentively, his gaze never wavering from my face, as if every word I said was the most fascinating thing he’d ever heard.
“What about you—did you always know you wanted to be a lawyer?”
“Not exactly. Actually, I wanted to be a painter when I was younger. But life took me down a different path.”
“A painter, huh? Like, houses?”
