“Just give me a sec to grab everything, and we can go,” she says, stepping away.
As she gathers her things, I take this opportunity to fully take her in. She has this air of sophistication, yet she remains casual for this beach town. She’s wearing an ice-blue tank that accentuates her toned arms and makes her eyes brighter than I remember. Memories of how those beautiful blues could get me to do just about anything with a simple glance vividly return with a vengeance.
As she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, I take note of the subtle highlights streaking through her dark-blonde hair when light hits it just right. When we were younger, she’d always wear it in a long braid to keep the beach wind from having its way with it, but now, it’s cut in long, wavy layers just below her shoulders. I can’t help but wonder if she still enjoys riding with the windows down and letting it blow all around her.
As she bends over to grab a pair of sandals by the door, my eyes are drawn to the way her dark-gray, cargo-style joggers hug her sexy curves and fit like they were made for her.
Time has certainly been good to Faye.
She effortlessly looks comfortable, yet sophisticated. My daughters call it casual chic—if I remember correctly. She’s got this timeless look about her.
Grabbing her purse from the side table and a denim jacket from the coat tree beside it, she turns to me with a smile. “I’m ready if you are.”
Opening the door behind me, I lead her outside.
The moment she spots my truck in her driveway, I catch the slight shake of her head as a smile forms on her lips. Her head turns just as I’m certain her eyes roll, but I can’t be sure.
“Something wrong?” I ask, reaching to open her door.
Faye simply shakes her head and climbs into the cab of my truck as if she’s been doing it for years. “Nope. Just get in and drive, Lancaster.” As I shut her door, I swear I hear, “Yeesh… Some things never change.”
Chuckling, I do as I’m told.
Once I’ve backed out of her driveway, heading toward Pop’s, I ask, “Have you been living in Seaside long?”
“Just over a year.”
If she’s been living here a year, how the hell did I not notice her next door when I moved in? “What type of business are you in, if you’re leaving town for nearly six weeks at a time?”
“I’m a cybersecurity consultant. My client in London was onboarding a new branch of their business. I was tasked to set up their network and ensure there weren’t any data breaches as they expanded.”
She always was brilliant, but I can’t say I was expecting this. “Do you work in the private sector or with government agencies?”
I catch a slight shrug as she confirms my suspicion. “Both. This time, it was for a private company. But I do have government contracts with the DOD from time to time.”
“Interesting…” I draw out, allowing me time to mull over my next question. Department of Defense contracts are hard to come by. She must be top-notch to land those. However, in true Faye fashion, she interjects before I can continue.
Her spine straightens as her head turns my way. “Just what is that supposed to mean?”
Exhaling heavier than I should, I admit, “I find your line of work interesting… Nothing more than that. I’ve always wondered where you ended up. In high school, you were one of the smartest people I knew. It’s good to see you put that big brain of yours to work. Have you always been an independent contractor?”
“Only for the last ten years. Before that, I worked out of New York with a company that handled cybersecurity for major corporations as well as the DOD. It’s how I’ve kept my foot in the door as an independent contractor.”
“How did I not know this?” I muse aloud, more to myself than expecting an answer.
I feel like a total ass for not reaching out to her at some point.
All defensiveness disappears as she reaches for my arm and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Our paths never crossed, Mark. How would you know?”
“I suppose you’re right,” I concede as I pull into a street parking spot in front of Pop’s Hops.
“I usually am.” She grins widely and rolls her eyes, then reaches for the door handle. “We’ve got plenty of time for catching up, Lancaster. No need to worry about it all happening at once. You’re starving. Let’s go eat.”
With that, she hops out of my truck, and I’m left gaping like an idiot.
She always could call me on my shit like no other.
Glad to see some things haven’t changed.
