CANISTOP BY FOR A MINUTE? She had no idea if eight forty-five was too early to rouse him from sleep. I’D LIKE YOUR OPINION ABOUT SOMETHING.
Within seconds, her alert dinged.
SURE. WHAT TIME?
WELL… I’M SORT OF OUTSIDE THE RESTAURANT.
He didn’t respond. She hoped she wasn’t interrupting anything—or that anyone might be with him. Anyone like a … woman? Why had Maddie assumed he’d be alone? The thought triggered a memory of a boy named Bobby who she’d quietly adored in high school. One day, he’d asked her to go to Jan’s, a local diner, for a Coke. Maddie’s cheeks had flushed, her palms grew damp, her whole insides got jittery with excitement. But once settled in a red vinyl booth, Bobby asked if her friend Tracy had a boyfriend. How could Maddie have known that Bobby liked Tracy? And what the heck did that have to do with where she was right now? “You’re forty-five,” she muttered. “Not fifteen.” And Rex was a friend she wanted to consult on a business matter. Not a man she was lusting after.
Ding, ding, her phone dinged.
GIVE ME5MINS, he’d typed. DOWNSTAIRS DOOR IS UNLOCKED. COME UPSTAIRS TO MY APT.
She waited ten minutes, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel the whole time. Then she got out of the car, smoothed the front of her grandmother’s skirt, and walked to the Lord James, where Rex lived “above the shop,” as he’d once referred to his apartment. She took another breath, went in, and climbed the steps. But as she raised her hand to knock, the door opened. She almost rapped him on the chest.
“Oh! Sorry!”
“Happens all the time.” He smiled, stepped away, and welcomed her in. Despite his weathered jeans and navy-blue T-shirt, he didn’t look like he’d just rolled out of bed. And being bald saved him from having to comb his hair before greeting a visitor.
“Coffee?” he asked.
“Sure.” Suddenly, she felt ridiculous, as if her idea for abookshop was unrealistic. A fantasy. After all, Maddie was a teacher, not a businessperson, and she knew beans about the island compared with the people who’d grown up there. Her thoughts scrambled as she tried to come up with a different topic she could ask him about that would not make her sound as if she’d come unplugged.
Willing herself not to stammer the way Grandma did when she was confused, Maddie said, “I’m sorry, Rex.” Her voice was steady but squeaky. “I shouldn’t have come. Not to mention so early. But Rafe needed the early boat …”
He reached for her hand, which she knew must be godawful damp. “Please don’t apologize,” he said with a smile. “Just tell me if you want a blueberry or cranberry scone for breakfast. Something tells me you haven’t eaten yet.” He let go of her hand and glanced down at her skirt. “Nice outfit,” he said.
In spite of her teeter-tottering emotions, Maddie laughed. “You’re very observant, for it being so early and all.” At least he hadn’t mentioned her wet palm.
“I’m no Sherlock Holmes, but it stands to reason if Rafe needed the early boat, you jumped out of bed and into the first available clothes. Assuming you wore that to the potluck last night.”
She had no recourse. “So you also deduced that I’d draped it across the chair in your guest room last night, which made a perfect option when I was in a hurry.”
“Correct.” He backed up and ushered her inside.
“You win,” she said, then dutifully obeyed and followed him into a sunny, gleaming kitchen. Leaning against what looked like a tall freezer, she watched him dump half the contents of a French press container down the drain and start making a fresh one. A lone mug sat in the sink, so perhaps there was not a woman lurking in the bedroom. As in Rex’s up-island cabin where she and Grandma currently lived, this placewas tidy, but unlike the cabin, it appeared newly decorated in black and white with bright red accents here and there, and a wide window overlooking Edgartown Harbor. And as at Menemsha in October, the pleasure boats that clogged the harbor in season were gone, having either been put into storage or navigated to somewhere south of here.
“I hope I didn’t take you from something important,” she said, praying that if she stalled long enough she could concoct another reason for her presence, instead of sharing the ridiculous pipe dream that she’d suddenly felt compelled to ditch her career and sell books. And baskets. And Grandma’s teas that were definitely not USDA inspected, as they might need to be.
Oh, she thought.I need help all right, but perhaps not quite the kind I’d thought.
“I was doing paperwork,” he said. “Ordering food. Paying bills. Exciting stuff. Thanks for showing up and saving me from it.” He put the kettle on and cranked up the burner to high. “How did yesterday go?”
She forced herself to stay focused, the way a professional adult person would. The way her father would. “Cranberry Day was incredible.” She wished she wasn’t so nervous in his company.
“Did Rafe have fun?”
“That’s an understatement.” As always, Rex was nice. Even-tempered. Kind and generous, yet strong. But other than knowing he’d grown up on Chappy, and then lived in Boston many years, where he’d become a chef, Maddie knew little about him. “Have you been to the potluck since it opened to the public?” She was stalling, and she knew it.
He reached into an upper cabinet, took down two plates, then plucked two scones from beneath a small glass dome. “Nope. Like I said, things are crazy here with the long weekend and the busloads of fall tourists. But I’ve heard it’s great.”
“It was.” She knitted and purled her fingers together. Maybe she should just tell him what she’d overheard about Arnie’s and her harebrained idea and get it over with. If he laughed, so what? Once the post-fire renovations to Grandma’s cottage were done, it’s not as if Maddie would ever need to see Rex again. But as she opened her mouth to speak, he interrupted.
“Maddie? Before you ask me what you wanted to ask, I have a question.”
She blinked. “Okay?” It was odd that she’d posed her response as a question, but that’s what she did.
He folded his arms across his broad chest. “Are you seeing anyone?”
