on.
Not wanting to go home, I drive through the town, taking road after road. Thinking. What if I’m missing something? Why would criminals announce addresses or anything that’s important over the phone? Wouldn’t that leave a trail?
Think. Think. Think.
No, they’d have a code system. Something only they would understand, so clueless people like me would waste time staking out a house that has nothing to do with their activities.
Ocean View Drive. Ocean. View. Drive. A view of the ocean. Look at the ocean. But that could be anywhere. I keep playing with the words. Drive to the ocean. Drive somewhere. Someplace with a view of the ocean. Drive to view the ocean.
Where’s an obvious place to see the ocean? Someplace you can get to only by driving. Someplace where there might not be a lot of tourists, just teens steaming up their cars.
Raker’s Bluff.
Chapter 7
Katie
The afternoon breeze teases the bottom of my skirt, swirling it about. Light puts its gilded touch on everything as the sun sinks in the sky. The nerves jump up and down in my stomach like a schoolgirl’s on the first day of school. Waitressing took forever today. Every cup of coffee I poured, order I took, or floor I swept took hours, each task stretching into infinity. The whole time, the memory of Chad’s face, the softening look in his eyes, the small smile as he played with my hair—they stayed with me. I came off the other night on a high, not wanting my time with him to end. So now, the minutes before he arrives again, seem endless.
He should be here any minute, the engine of his bike gunning as he revs it to let me know he’s almost here. I strain to hear the familiar sound above the regular traffic.
It’s my turn to plan our date. He wants to change his reputation? I have the perfect outing for him, planned by Justine and me. It’s so perfect I stifle a giggle. To be honest, this afternoon is mixed with a little revenge too. At the bandstand when he conned me into dirty dancing in front of everyone? Yeah that. Talk about embarrassing. Not that I minded too much...
It’s his turn to do something that’s completely out of character. Something I used to do back at home but gave up in the past couple years as I got sucked into the restaurant. I can’t stop the smile creeping across my face. If I’m to be honest, it’s more to do with seeing Chad than it is about seeing him participate in the expressive movement class I signed us up for.
Where is he?
I can’t hear his bike, but I stand on tiptoes to search the oncoming traffic anyway. It’s useless because he’s nowhere. My plan being delayed by a little bit is no big deal. I fantasized about it in the minutes before fading off to sleep last night. Whitney Houston or Celine Dion plays in the background, and Chad stands in his jeans and T-shirt, eyes closed. The music starts and he has to move to the music. He’d be awkward at first and I’d get a great view of his muscles straining through his clothes. While we both moved to the music we’d laugh in a flirty way and share secret looks that only we understood, the communication between two people who enjoy being together, and who have spent time together. Maybe, he’d stop in the climax of a song to take me in his arms. We’d dance together. His lips would brush mine. Then he…
I shake it off, the blush spreading.
I glance at my watch. Maybe he fell asleep from boredom at his dad’s office? Maybe one of his tires is flat? Maybe he and Jimmy got in a long philosophical conversation. Okay, maybe not. I laugh.
I slide down and sit on the boardwalk, my back against the front side of the Inn. I stretch my legs out to catch some rays. The warmth feels good. I lean my head back and close my eyes, thinking, dreaming. The other night was incredible, the sun setting across the expanse of ocean, and his arms around me after he pulled me into his lap. A sigh escapes as I think about it. He can be so romantic
Not wanting to go home, I drive through the town, taking road after road. Thinking. What if I’m missing something? Why would criminals announce addresses or anything that’s important over the phone? Wouldn’t that leave a trail?
Think. Think. Think.
No, they’d have a code system. Something only they would understand, so clueless people like me would waste time staking out a house that has nothing to do with their activities.
Ocean View Drive. Ocean. View. Drive. A view of the ocean. Look at the ocean. But that could be anywhere. I keep playing with the words. Drive to the ocean. Drive somewhere. Someplace with a view of the ocean. Drive to view the ocean.
Where’s an obvious place to see the ocean? Someplace you can get to only by driving. Someplace where there might not be a lot of tourists, just teens steaming up their cars.
Raker’s Bluff.
Chapter 7
Katie
The afternoon breeze teases the bottom of my skirt, swirling it about. Light puts its gilded touch on everything as the sun sinks in the sky. The nerves jump up and down in my stomach like a schoolgirl’s on the first day of school. Waitressing took forever today. Every cup of coffee I poured, order I took, or floor I swept took hours, each task stretching into infinity. The whole time, the memory of Chad’s face, the softening look in his eyes, the small smile as he played with my hair—they stayed with me. I came off the other night on a high, not wanting my time with him to end. So now, the minutes before he arrives again, seem endless.
He should be here any minute, the engine of his bike gunning as he revs it to let me know he’s almost here. I strain to hear the familiar sound above the regular traffic.
It’s my turn to plan our date. He wants to change his reputation? I have the perfect outing for him, planned by Justine and me. It’s so perfect I stifle a giggle. To be honest, this afternoon is mixed with a little revenge too. At the bandstand when he conned me into dirty dancing in front of everyone? Yeah that. Talk about embarrassing. Not that I minded too much...
It’s his turn to do something that’s completely out of character. Something I used to do back at home but gave up in the past couple years as I got sucked into the restaurant. I can’t stop the smile creeping across my face. If I’m to be honest, it’s more to do with seeing Chad than it is about seeing him participate in the expressive movement class I signed us up for.
Where is he?
I can’t hear his bike, but I stand on tiptoes to search the oncoming traffic anyway. It’s useless because he’s nowhere. My plan being delayed by a little bit is no big deal. I fantasized about it in the minutes before fading off to sleep last night. Whitney Houston or Celine Dion plays in the background, and Chad stands in his jeans and T-shirt, eyes closed. The music starts and he has to move to the music. He’d be awkward at first and I’d get a great view of his muscles straining through his clothes. While we both moved to the music we’d laugh in a flirty way and share secret looks that only we understood, the communication between two people who enjoy being together, and who have spent time together. Maybe, he’d stop in the climax of a song to take me in his arms. We’d dance together. His lips would brush mine. Then he…
I shake it off, the blush spreading.
I glance at my watch. Maybe he fell asleep from boredom at his dad’s office? Maybe one of his tires is flat? Maybe he and Jimmy got in a long philosophical conversation. Okay, maybe not. I laugh.
I slide down and sit on the boardwalk, my back against the front side of the Inn. I stretch my legs out to catch some rays. The warmth feels good. I lean my head back and close my eyes, thinking, dreaming. The other night was incredible, the sun setting across the expanse of ocean, and his arms around me after he pulled me into his lap. A sigh escapes as I think about it. He can be so romantic
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