That Second Chance (Getting Lucky #1)(16)

“Ugh. The Uber driver told me that one too.”

He nods knowingly. “Wallace or Bart?”

“Wallace.”

Griffin shakes his head. “Wallace, the exaggerator. Watch what you say to him; he’ll twist it into his own story and then spread it around to every person he drives, and let me tell you, he drives a lot of people, especially the elders.”

“The elders?” I ask as we turn onto Main, the colorful buildings that line the street leading toward the boardwalk and the harbor, where fishing, lobster, and tour boats are docked. Tour signs placed up and down the street promise a great view of the trail of famous lighthouses surrounding Port Snow.

Abruptly, Griffin stops and leans in close, speaking from the side of his mouth. “To your left, at the corner, there’s a group of old people congregating in front of the general store. Those are the elders and the biggest gossips in town. Tell them something, and everyone will find out within an hour. Trust me on this.”

From the corner of my eye, I take in the group of older gentlemen huddled around a newspaper stand, canes and walkers in hand. They look innocent enough, but I can see how they could cause a stir.

“Okay, noted.”

He nods in the other direction. “Come on, this way.” He heads toward the end of the street, where there’s a giant white building covered in shingles and red trim with a bright teal door. It grabs my attention immediately, and I smile at the store’s sign.

“The Lobster Landing. That’s what’s on your shirt, right?”

“Yup. My family owns the business. If you’re looking to gain a few pounds, come to us; we’ll fill you up with fudge and pastries, dress you in all the lobster gear, and send you on your way.”

“Fudge and pastries? Uh-oh, that can’t be good for my hips. So do you go there often when you’re not working at the station?”

“I actually volunteer at the station and work full time at the Landing. I’m in charge of all the day-to-day business. My parents semiretired and have casually been stepping aside.”

“Really? Wow, you must be busy, then.”

“You can say that. I enjoy the work, though.” He points to the other side of the street. “We can cross here.” Since the roads are still pretty clear, we make it across without having to pick up our speed, which I’m grateful for. I’m finding myself savoring his company, wanting to draw out our conversation as much as I can. “Up that little hill over there is the school, K through twelve. I’m assuming that’s where you’ll be working. Not much of a walk from your house, but during the winter, I would get your car running; the windchill alone might freeze you in place.”

“Moving here, I realized I might suffer the first couple of winters trying to get acclimated, but I’m ready for the challenge, ready for the seasons. Southern California doesn’t provide you with much change when it comes to seasons, so I’m kind of excited to see what a real New England fall is like.”

As we arrive at the coffeehouse, Griffin reaches out and opens the door for both of us. Such a gentleman. We step inside, and I’m immediately hit with the sweet scent of freshly brewed coffee and then taken aback by the exposed brick, plank hardwood floors, and exposed beams in the ceiling. Decorated in earthy tones, the coffeehouse somehow manages to pull off a country-industrial feel.

“The fall will blow your mind, trust me. Unlike anything you’ll ever see. And even though the winter will freeze your eyelids shut, it’s still beautiful.”

“Hey, Griff,” the lady behind the counter calls out. “Heard you rescued a damsel in distress yesterday. Did you really scale a tree with just a rope to get to her?”

Chuckling and shaking his head, Griffin walks up to the counter. “Come on, Ruth, you know better than to believe that crap.”

“I know,” she says wistfully, rolling her pretty brown eyes up to the ceiling. “But it’s fun to think about. Let me indulge.”

“No,” he answers, smiling. “Not when the damsel in distress is standing right next to me.”

Ruth blushes, standing upright and smoothing down her dress. She can’t be much younger than me, her blonde hair just touching her shoulders and her lips beautifully wide like Julia Roberts’s. I bet she has a great laugh just like her too.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She holds out her hand. “I’m Ruth. I own Snow Roast. Welcome to Port Snow.”

“Thank you.” I take her hand, give it a shake, and then release it. “I’m Ren, the new algebra teacher.”

“Oh, algebra, huh? I was never good at math, couldn’t quite get a handle on it like my brothers. Pure geniuses, those guys.” She tosses a towel over her shoulder like a bartender. “What can I get you two? The usual for you, Griff?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

As Ruth starts moving around, I take in the little case of food in front of me, full of breakfast sandwiches and pastries. “Uh, can I have a turkey-bacon-egg sandwich and a black roast?”

“Sure thing.”

Griffin nudges me with his elbow. “Black coffee? Got some hair on your chest?” he teases.

My cheeks heat up as I think about my chest, the one he clearly got a good view of yesterday. “It’s always been my goal to grow hair on my chest. But no matter how much coffee I drink, I can’t seem to sprout a single one.”