The Other Lady Vanishes (Burning Cove #2)(6)

“Until your nerves recover?”

“I suppose so. Meanwhile I won’t starve. The import-export business was good to me. Now that you know my life story, I hope you will do me the favor of calling me by my first name. Jake.”

She was very sure she did not know his life story. But he did not know hers, either. Fair enough. She considered briefly and came to a decision.

“All right,” she said. “Jake.”

“That sounds much better. Friendlier. We’re neighbors, after all.”

So he knew she lived in one of the cottages on the bluff above Crescent Beach. That should not have come as a surprise but for some reason it did. The realization that he had been paying some attention to her was oddly thrilling but it also made her deeply uneasy. Then again, maybe she was overreacting. In recent months she had learned that it was often difficult to determine the fine line between caution and paranoia.

Jake was watching her with a look of mild expectation. It dawned on her that she had not given him her first name. For some reason it seemed like a very big step.

“Adelaide,” she said. “My name is Adelaide Brockton.”

It was probably not a good idea to embark on a new relationship with a lie, but it wasn’t as if she had a lot of options. In any event, it was highly unlikely that this was the start of an acquaintanceship that would ever, even remotely, metamorphose into a real relationship.

“Adelaide,” he repeated. He seemed pleased with the sound. “Nice name. It suits you.”

She knew she ought to go back to the kitchen and prepare Jake’s tea, but she found herself hesitating. She wanted to linger at his table.

“Are you enjoying your stay in Burning Cove?” she asked.

“You want the truth? I cannot be absolutely certain but I believe that I am starting to go out of my mind.”

She stared at him. “Uh, that doesn’t sound good—”

“With boredom.”

She relaxed. “Perfectly understandable. You’re obviously a fit and healthy man who needs to remain active and engaged with the world. If you’re bored, it’s probably time for you to start planning for a new career, in spite of what the doctor told you.”

“Do you think so?”

“It’s entirely possible that your doctor was right when he said you required a temporary change of scene. But it doesn’t necessarily follow that an extended period of outright boredom and strict routine are good for you.”

“Do you give advice a lot?”

“Advice seems to go hand in hand with the tea business. People are always asking me about teas and herbs for various conditions. Weight control. Insomnia. Anxiety. Lack of—”

She managed to stop herself just in time.

“Lack of . . . ?” he prompted.

She took a deep breath. “Lack of interest in various . . . activities.”

“Activities.”

“Sometimes people find that they lack the energy or desire to engage in certain activities of an intimate nature. Activities that are quite . . . natural.”

“I see.” Jake nodded wisely. “Activities that at one time they found stimulating.”

She had the awful feeling that she was turning very red. The conversation was deteriorating rapidly. She cast about desperately for inspiration.

“Exactly,” she said, striving for a brisk, clinical air. “Activities such as taking long walks on the beach or swimming in the ocean.”

“I often walk on the beach and sometimes I swim.”

“Precisely.”

“Perhaps I should cease doing those things,” Jake said.

“Why would you want to stop? Those are very healthy and invigorating forms of exercise.”

“They are also stimulating,” Jake said. “My doctor said I should try to refrain from anything that stimulates my nerves.”

“My mother believed that certain types of stimulation are good for a person.”

“What therapy do you recommend?”

She went blank for a beat. Then a thought occurred.

“There is a very nice art museum in town,” she said. “The new exhibition featuring local artists got excellent reviews in the Herald.”

“Don’t you think that an art exhibition might be too stimulating for my delicate nerves?”

He was teasing her, she thought. Florence was wrong. Jake Truett was not interested in her, not in a romantic way. He was simply bored. He could find someone else to amuse and entertain him.

“Sorry,” she said coldly. “I thought you were serious. I’ll get your tea.”

She started to turn away.

“Wait,” Jake said quickly. “I thought you were joking.”

“When it comes to the subject of strong, healthy nerves, I never joke.”

“I understand. I apologize. About the art exhibition. Would you perhaps care to—”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Truett, you won’t get any more advice from me.” She gave him her sharpest, iciest smile. “I’ll get your tea. You’re right. You are very predictable. You are also bored. I’m sure that if you put your mind to it, you can find something stimulating to do in Burning Cove, but I can assure you that you won’t find it here at the Refresh Tearoom.”

His eyes tightened a little at the corners. He was no longer amused. She got the feeling that he was startled by her response. He hadn’t expected her to snap at him. It was dawning on him that he had miscalculated. Evidently he was not accustomed to making mistakes of that sort.