Read Breaking Josephine Online
Authors: Marie Stewart
Breaking Josephine (3 page)
Macy knocked on
the door right at 7:30 and gave me an appraising glance. “How do you always
manage to look fantastic, and like it comes naturally without even trying?”
Macy asked me. I looked down, suddenly self-conscious, because although I
disagreed about the looking great part, I could honestly agree I didn’t try all
that much. Macy, on the other hand, was all decked out in what had to be
designer beach wear—a beautiful summer dress in colors of the ocean and
gold chandelier earrings that cost more than I made in a year.
“I don’t know what
you’re talking about—you’re the one that looks fantastic,” I told Macy.
“I hope so! William
is going to be here tonight and it took me hours to figure out what to wear. You
don’t think the earrings are too much?”
“No, they’re
perfect, and William will love them,” I reassured her. William was Macy’s latest
love interest: a 25-year-old professional water polo player from Southern
California whose mother owned a beach house in town.
The insecure part
of me wondered if this was really why Macy wanted me to come tonight: to be her
sidekick in her never-ending quest to snag the perfect husband. Oh well, I
thought to myself. It beats staying home alone with my thoughts tonight. I
shoved my feet in flip-flops, locked the door and hopped in Macy’s car for the
short drive to the beach.
We pulled up to
the Seaside Inn, one of the many properties owned by Macy’s family in the state,
and followed the wooden walkway around back to where several small tables had
been set up on the beach and a bonfire had been staged for later in the
evening.
Macy squealed with
delight and ran toward the tables, her blonde hair and blue-green linen dress
waving behind her. Sand-colored candles in glass hurricanes lit the tables,
nestled among sand dollars, seashells, and driftwood centerpieces. Fresh shrimp
cocktails, crab cakes, and other assorted seafood adorned the table, along with
a large ice bucket of Oregon wines and locally brewed beer. A local blues band
was setting up on the Seaside’s deck and staff of the Inn were arranging
glasses, dishes, and silverware on the tables. I finally caught up to Macy and
she turned around, her face awash in giddy anticipation. “Isn’t it just
perfect? This isn’t too much either, is it?”
Although part of
me thought everything Macy did was a bit too much, I never would say
so—she was so exuberant, and full of life, like an overgrown child at
times. Her happiness always improved my mood, even when I felt introspective
and a bit lost in my own head.
“Of course not,” I
said with a smile. “But I have no idea how you managed to pull this together in
an afternoon, much less get it catered, and decorated, and set up.”
“Can you believe
it, I decorated it myself!” Macy proclaimed. “Hanging out with my mother in the
summers is actually paying off I think. I’m starting to get the hang of this
entertaining thing. It’s good, right?”
“Oh, Macy, it’s
great. I can’t believe you did all this. Everyone will love it,” I answered,
genuinely happy for her.
“I’m certainly
impressed,” said a voice behind us. Macy and I turned around to see William
standing in the sand and admiring the view. He was wearing his staple ripped
jeans, flip-flops, and worn polo shirt. According to Macy, he’d recently taken
over his father’s successful film production company in Los Angeles, but you’d
never guess it looking at him.
“Oh, hi William. Thanks,
do you really like it?” Macy asked.
“I wouldn’t say it
if I didn’t mean it,” William answered. “Man, it’s getting cold already, Macy. I
sure hope you’re starting up that bonfire soon,” he said, stuffing his hands in
his pockets. William was right—the sun cast an orange glow at the edge of
the horizon and a distinct chill had rolled in with the wind over the ocean
waves.
“Absolutely, I’m
freezing too,” responded Macy, as they bounded off toward the bonfire, waving
at me to follow. I took a deep breath of the fresh ocean air and hurried after
them, ready to bask in the glow of the bonfire and escape from the thoughts
still bouncing around in my head from last night.
Another man was
standing at the unlit bonfire, hands in his pockets and a fleece pullover
zipped up to cover his neck. He turned when William and Macy arrived and gave
Macy a big hug. He was handsome in a boy-next-door way, and looked nearly
identical to William, with the same sand-colored hair, lean surfer’s body, and
crooked smile. I caught up a few minutes later.
“Jo, have you met
Colin?” Macy asked, turning to me as I came up to stand beside her. I shook my
head no. “Well, Jo, this is Colin Blackstone, William’s younger brother. Colin,
this is Jo Sinclair, my closest friend here in Cannon Beach, and she’s
single—just like you—you two should chat!” Macy beamed, patted us both
on the back, and bounced off to find someone to light the fire.
I blushed,
embarrassed at Macy’s forwardness on my behalf. I held out my hand. “Hi, I’m
Jo. I’m sorry about Macy, she can’t help herself sometimes.” Colin took my hand
in his, and shook it clumsily.
“I don’t think she
ever can help herself, actually,” Colin answered. He shrugged and smiled a
sheepish grin. “Now that this is incredibly awkward, how about we go get
something to eat and a beer?”
I smiled. “That
sounds great, thanks.” As Colin and I headed over to the food and drinks, I
asked him about his family. “So how did your family and Macy’s family meet?”
“Oh, um, my
father’s family had a beach house here for years. He spent every summer here
when he was a kid and I guess he was friends with Mrs. Daugherty back then.” He
shrugged as he popped a shrimp into his mouth.
“So did you spend
summers here too?” I asked, helping myself to the food as well.
“Oh, no. I grew up
in Los Angeles. My dad went to USC for college and met my mom there. After they
got married, they stayed in Los Angeles and my dad opened up the production
studio. I didn’t even know about Cannon Beach until my dad died.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I
said, forgetting William’s father had passed away.
“My dad had
cancer,” he said, “but I’m sure you know that. It was long, and drawn out, and
we knew it was a matter of time.” He ran his hand through his hair and looked
at me. “But I don’t think I answered your question. What was it again?”
“Oh … I think I
had asked how you know Macy,” I said, trying to remember how we got off topic.
“Right. Apparently
my mom and Macy’s mom became friends when my mom moved here and that’s how
William and Macy met,” Colin took a gulp of beer and looked around. “Why my mom
ever wanted to move up here I will never know. She came up here when my parents
were in college and loved it so she moved here after my dad died. But I agree
with my father—he’s the one who never wanted to come back, and if I were
him, I would have felt the same way.” He shrugged, tipping his beer bottle up
to his lips again.
I looked at him,
curious, but a bit put off as well. Thanks to the beer, I felt more forward
than usual and asked the question that was on my mind. “If you hate it here so
much, why are you here? Why not just stay in L.A.?” I said, regretting my
momentary forwardness as soon as the words came out of my mouth.
Colin laughed a
sardonic, scornful laugh and looked at me. “Unfortunately, until I’m
twenty-five, or my lawyers can get their heads out of their asses enough to
figure out the mess of a will my father left behind, my mother has control of
my trust fund, and I have to stay in her good graces to access it. So I have to
come to this cold tourist trap and make nice during the summer. Does that
answer your question?”
I looked down, uncomfortable
and fully aware of his eyes focused intently on my face. “Yes, I’m sorry I
pried, it’s none of my business,” I said, hoping to mend the rift between us.
“You’re right,
it’s not,” he said, walking away from me and towards the table of waiting food
and drinks.
I stood there,
unsure what to do. I didn’t want to get in the way of Macy and William bonding,
but I certainly didn’t want anything to do with Colin. Obviously I’d angered
him somehow, and I didn’t want to exacerbate the situation. So I waited for him
to leave the table, picked up another bottle of beer, and wandered down the
shore of the beach, away from the bonfire, Colin, and the rest of the social
circle I never felt comfortable in.
As I walked down
the beach, I noticed the moon had risen, its fullness casting a bright glow on
the beach and ocean water. Between the moon’s light and the bonfire’s warm
glow, I made my way further down the beach than I intended and before I
realized it, I had nowhere to go, blocked by rocky outcroppings stretching
their craggy fingers into the sand in front of me. Feeling a sense of déjà vu
wash over me, I looked up, and saw the back of the mansion I’d been in only
twenty-hour hours ago, under very different circumstances. I had managed to
climb over the rocks with little problem the night before, but they looked
ominous and foreboding tonight, warning me off. I looked up at the stone fortress,
and although not that old as far as I could tell, the building seemed worn,
aged by the coastal winds and Oregon rains that battered its stone facade
throughout the year. The two of us stood there, me and the big stone mansion,
eyeing each other, lonely and exposed under the moonlight. I closed my eyes,
vividly remembering the blue-eyed fantasy of a man who lived there. God he was
so perfect; strong yet gentle, with those hands, and shoulders, and …
“Oh, how
ridiculous,” I said to myself out loud. I shook my head to clear the
imagery, opened my eyes, and stifled a gasp. He was there, leaning over the
balcony I’d almost jumped off of, hands on the guardrail, staring straight at
me. I shut my eyes and opened them again, but there he stood—not a
dream—but real, in the flesh, and just as captivating as last night. Our
eyes met, and we stared at each other for what seemed like hours, neither of us
moving, until he tore his eyes away from mine, turned, and strode abruptly back
into the house, slamming the french door so hard the frame shook and the curtains
trembled.
My instincts
finally kicked in and I turned and hurried back to the bonfire and back to
reality. I found Macy warming her hands in the bonfire’s flames, chatting with
William, looking more content than ever.
“Hey stranger,”
Macy called out to me, “where have you been sneaking off to? You disappeared
and I didn’t see you anywhere.”
A small shiver ran
through me as I pulled my sweater around me. “I just went wandering down the
beach. But now I’m freezing. How much longer are we going to be here, exactly?”
Macy turned and
looked around. “Well, it looks like it’s just us left, and the band is packing
up, so I’d say we can call the catering crew, clean this up, and get out of
here.”
A sense of relief
rushed through me. I didn’t want to spend any more time than absolutely
necessary on the beach tonight. I busied myself gathering all the table
decorations and helping the catering crew clean up, anything to keep from
thinking about the stone mansion and its occupant. By the time we finished, I
felt exhausted and drained and just wanted to be home, in my comfy pajamas,
forgetting the day while I slept. I looked up and saw William’s Jeep Wrangler
pulling away into the darkness. Macy almost hopped her way to me and sighed,
full of happiness.
“Isn’t he just
wonderful? And Colin is too, right? I saw you two talking quite a bit!” she
said, elbowing me in the ribs.
I pushed her arm
away and answered, “I’m glad you’re happy Macy. And Colin is, well, interesting
I guess. But, seriously, I’m freezing. Can we dish over how amazing William is
at work tomorrow?”
“Ugh. Work. I’m
seriously going to be dragging tomorrow,” Macy grumbled as she hooked her arm
in mine and pulled me towards her car. “Of course we can dish tomorrow, and
then you can tell me all about what you thought of the party and how glad you
are that I introduced you to Colin.”
“I’ll say anything
if we can just get in a heated car!” I said, as we ran towards Macy’s car,
hopped in, and Macy drove me home.
“You’ll never
believe who’s back in town,” Macy whispered to me while we picked up orders
during the Saturday morning rush.
“Who?” I asked,
feigning interest. Macy always tried to bring me into her social circle,
gossiping about the wealthy families who vacationed in town during the summer. I
never wanted to hurt her feelings by letting her know I didn’t care, so I
played along.
“Dex Hartley,” she
said.
“I’ve never heard
of him. Who is he?” I asked, without looking up from my ticket and the orders
of scrambled eggs, pancakes, and waffles I needed to pick up.
“You’ve never
heard of Dex? Or the Hartleys?” Macy exclaimed. I looked up to see her putting
down her tray and looking at me like I had two heads. “Where have you been
living the past year? Under a rock?” she continued.
