Harbor Street (Cedar Cove #5)(58)

“You know?”

“I found out, too.”

Twenty-Nine

Rachel tried, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d learned from Carol Greendale on Christmas Day. Nate was the son of a powerful East Coast politician. She was living in a dream world if she had any hopes for this relationship. The sooner she cut her losses, the better. And she decided to do just that, sending Nate a terse but perfectly polite e-mail. She hadn’t turned on her computer since.

Friday night, Bruce phoned her at the salon and suggested they get together. Rachel’s first inclination was to decline. She wasn’t in the mood to be sociable, but on second thought, she didn’t go out that often. Bruce was usually good company.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t seem full of enthusiasm, either.

Half the time Rachel figured the only reason he called her was that he didn’t know any other women. But that wasn’t true; he knew plenty of women. She suspected he had an irrational fear of unmarried females trying to trap him into marriage. That wasn’t an issue with her and he knew he was safe.

“Want to go to a movie?” she asked.

“We could.”

“Where’s Jolene going to be?” She tried to think of something that might appeal to both of them.

“Slumber party.”

“Dinner?” Rachel suggested.

They didn’t even talk in full sentences anymore. They were like an old married couple so attuned to each other that their communication was a form of shorthand.

“Sure.”

That was fine with Rachel, too. “Where?”

“You choose.”

“Taco Shack.”

“Meet you there?”

“Fine. Six?”

“Great.”

By the time she left the salon and drove out to the Taco Shack, Bruce had arrived and scouted out a table. The Taco Shack was a popular Friday-night spot. The food was good and plentiful and, best of all, cheap.

“I already ordered for you,” he said when she joined him.

“How’d you know what I wanted?”

“Cheese enchiladas. That’s what you order every time.”

“I do?” Rachel hadn’t realized that. As a matter of fact, she read the entire wall-mounted menu on each visit. Apparently she was even more predictable than she’d known.

She got herself a Diet Coke—Bruce had a bottle of water—and their dinner was delivered two minutes later. If she ordered the same thing every time, then so did Bruce. Without instructions, the server set the cheese plate in front of her and the chicken enchiladas in front of Bruce.

As though synchronized, they both reached for their forks. “Do you want to watch a DVD later?” Rachel asked between bites.

“What have you got?”

She named a few movies that had been going around the salon. The girls at Get Nailed had a better system than most rental places, and if a DVD didn’t get returned in a timely manner, the teasing was ruthless. Rachel had borrowed several for the weekend, a couple of comedies and an emotional drama, reputedly a tearjerker.

“I haven’t seen any of those.”

They decided on one of the comedies, then ate in silence for a few minutes.

“Have you heard from lover boy?” Bruce asked, picking up his water.

“If you mean Nate, then no, I haven’t.”

“No?” This seemed to surprise Bruce.

“I ended it.”

Bruce set down his water and studied her. “This is news. What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that. You didn’t write this guy a Dear John letter for no reason. That’s not like you.”

“I e-mailed him.”

“Okay, a Dear John e-mail. Tell me what’s going on.”

Bruce was right; she hadn’t done this lightly. She’d thought about the situation for almost two weeks and concluded that it couldn’t work. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss it.”

“All right.”

Rachel’s appetite was gone, and she pushed her food around while Bruce finished his. He moved his empty plate aside. “This is bothering you, isn’t it?”

Bruce was stating the obvious, a typical male trait in her experience. Because she found it impossible to conceal her emotions, she simply nodded.

They left, and he followed her back to her rental house, parking at the curb. She unlocked the front door and let him inside. The first thing she noticed in the dark foyer was the red light flashing on her answering machine. Instead of listening to her messages, she turned on the house lights and drew the living room drapes, then brought out the DVD they’d selected.

While he put the disk in the slot, she poured them each a glass of wine. He liked the reds, especially merlot, and so did she. Tucking her legs under her, Rachel sat on the sofa. Bruce sat next to her.

The previews had just started when the phone rang. Unfolding her legs and setting her wineglass on the coffee table with a sigh, she hurried into the hallway to answer it. She wasn’t expecting any calls, but there was always the possibility that Jolene might be trying to get in touch with her father.

Using the remote, Bruce sped ahead to the movie portion and hit the pause button.