“Yeah, I’m going to stay there. I already have my things in the car.” She met her mother’s gaze. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Of course. We liked having you at the house, though.”

“Yes, it was nice. But…you know, I’m used to being alone.”

“I know you are. Will we still see you every day? Do you need some help with the store?”

“It’s under control. Annie’s going to keep it running pretty much like Matt did. There are only a couple of things I’m going to change,” she said. “And yes, you’ll still see me every day.”

Her mother’s eyes sharpened. “What are you changing? Matt knew—”

“Nothing major, Mom. Logging in timesheets, mainly. Matt was very lax. They’re paid hourly. I’m going to install a punch clock,” she said.

“That’s kinda old-fashioned, isn’t it?”

Jordan laughed. “It’s sort of a virtual one. It’s on the computer. It’s an add-on to QuickBooks. It’ll make payroll easier too.”

“Do you know how to do all of that?”

“Yes. Now don’t worry about the store.” She took the bag, already imagining biting into her father’s famous battered fish. “Let me get out of your hair. You’re too busy to be chatting.” She kissed her mother’s cheek again, then snuck around the fry station to do the same to her father. “Dad, thanks for dinner.”

“I made the fish extra spicy, like you like it.”

“Great. I’m sure it’ll be perfect. See you later.”

Of course, she didn’t make it back to Pelican’s Landing before sneaking a nibble of the fish. As promised, spicy. There were five fillets and at least a dozen jumbo shrimp. She would have enough left over for lunch tomorrow. At least she hoped so as she ate her third shrimp.

The beach house seemed almost empty with all of Matt’s clutter—mess—gone. A lot of the things left in the house were from her grandparents. Like the collection of conch shells which, as a child, she used to love to play with. These weren’t bought in a treasure shop, though. No, these were all found on the beach. Her grandmother had been a beachcomber. Not that you could find much here along the bay. Her grandmother, twice a week, would drive to the ferry and go across to Port Aransas, hitting the beach before sunrise.

On her way to the kitchen, she paused to glance at the shelf that held small baskets of sand dollars and smaller shells. She’d been with her grandmother when they’d found a lot of those. She’d always been close to her. That was yet another regret she had. By staying away, she missed out on her grandmother’s last years. Years she could never get back. Same with Matt. The years passed them by so rapidly, she hardly noticed. With a sigh, she pushed the guilt away.

Matt had a nice collection of wine, all red. She chose a bottle and opened it, then poured a generous amount into a glass. She took that, along with her food, out to the deck. The sun had set, but there was still a little color left in the sky. The early evening breeze was pleasant, and she didn’t bother with the ceiling fan. She opened up her box and grabbed a piece of fish with her fingers, plunging it into the tub of tartar sauce.

“So good,” she murmured around the bite.

She leaned back, sipping from her wine. This, she was used to. Being alone, having dinner alone. The view from her condo couldn’t compete with this, however. Pink and red still shimmered on the water, and she watched as a fishing boat cruised out in the bay, heading back to the marina in Fulton or maybe Rockport. A quiet peacefulness settled over her, and she wondered how long she’d be content to stay here, so far away from the big city rush that was her life. Could she endure three, four months of this? Would her job wait for her? Peter had told her to take as much time as she needed. Her position in the company afforded her that, at least. She hadn’t worked her ass off for nothing. But still, she had responsibilities there. Of course, she had responsibilities here too, she reminded herself. She’d neglected her family for far too many years. Her parents needed her now and she intended to honor that obligation.

She dunked another shrimp into the tartar sauce, enjoying the crunch of her father’s secret batter. She wondered if her mother even knew the recipe he used. As darkness settled over the bay, the fish and shrimp she’d intended to save for lunch tomorrow were dwindling fast, as was the wine. One fillet and two shrimp remained. She pushed the box away and emptied the rest of the wine into her glass.

Full darkness now and the breeze off the bay was actually cool. She let her thoughts drift to Fat Larry. Matt had turned the store into a success and she didn’t think she was going to change anything. Well, other than the time-keeping. Matt may have been content to pay them based on what they were supposed to work, but she was not. Tomorrow she would attack his office and try to spend some time with the books. And inventory. Maybe Annie would be able to help with that.

Annie had been in Matt’s grade in school, yet she had no recollection of her. She looked younger than the twenty-nine she claimed to be. Blond hair and blue-green eyes, she was certainly attractive. Matt was a fool if he hadn’t tried to date her.

Oh well. Right now, all she cared about was Annie helping her run the store. Maybe by the end of summer, when Annie went back to college and Jordan could escape back to Chicago, she’d have hired someone to manage it for them. That is, if her father would trust an outsider to run the business. Because even though the store had Matt’s stamp all over it, her father had started it many, many years ago, even before they’d opened the restaurant. At the time, it was simply a little store that sold nothing more than trinkets and shells and a handful of T-shirts. Once they’d opened the restaurant, they’d almost neglected the store. But Matt had taken it over and made it what it was today…a landmark in Rockport. And tourists came to the store to buy a memento or two of their vacation—and to take a picture with Fat Larry, the pudgy, purple pelican.



Chapter Five

Annie was ten minutes early, yet Jordan had beaten her again to the store. She found the coffee already made and heard her rustling in Matt’s office. Well, Jordan’s office now, she supposed. She still wasn’t certain what to make of Jordan Sims. In looks, she certainly favored Matt, although she was not nearly as tall as Matt had been. But dark hair, dark eyes, an easy smile—they were alike in that regard. She suspected Jordan’s personality was a little more on the serious side, a little more purposeful than Matt had been. Matt liked to have fun and never wanted to cause waves. His employees loved him because he didn’t have a lot of rules. She guessed that was about to change.

She poured a cup of coffee, then stuck her head in the office. It hardly looked like the same place. She eyed the trash bag, seeing it stuffed with papers. Jordan was busy delving into one of Matt’s drawers. Annie noted that again, Jordan was dressed in pressed slacks and a crisp blouse. She looked down at her own bare legs and flip-flops. The only time she wore jeans or slacks were during the few really cold days in January or February.

“Good morning,” she said as she took a sip of coffee.

Jordan looked up from her task, smiling as she saw Annie. “Hey. Is it eight already?”

“Just about.” She stared at the trash, then raised an eyebrow. “Couldn’t stand the clutter?”

“Not a second longer,” Jordan said. “Besides, I took a look at his books. All of this,” she said, motioning to the papers in the trash bag, “is documented, at your fingertips with a click of the mouse.”

“Yes, he was a bit old school when it came to paper copies,” she said. “Can I get you some coffee?”

Jordan nodded. “Thanks. I made it but completely forgot about it.”

“How do you take it?”

“Black,” Jordan said as she pulled out another pile of papers from a drawer. “And thanks for doing payroll yesterday.”

“No problem.”

Annie filled a mug with coffee and brought it back, setting it carefully on the edge of the desk before sitting down across from it. “Did you get the punch clock add-on you were telling me about?”

“Yes. It’s already loaded to QuickBooks. I’ll show you how to use it, then you can teach everyone else.” Jordan sipped from her coffee. “I also ordered another laptop for them to use. We’ll keep it out there,” she said.

“Don’t want them in here?” Annie guessed.

Jordan smiled but didn’t answer. Instead, she asked, “Are Saturdays the busiest days?”

“Usually,” Annie said. “But once school is out and the tourists come, then every day is about the same.”

“And we’re only open on Sundays during the summer?”

“There’s not a set start date,” she said. “Whenever things begin picking up, like the spring migration, then we start opening on Sundays. Right now, it’s only noon until five.”

“So who works it?”

Annie smiled. “Matt always did. So I guess you.”

Jordan’s eyes widened. “Alone? You’d leave me here alone?”

Annie laughed. “Well, you are the boss.”

“Yeah. Back here,” Jordan said, pointing to the laptop. “In the office, with the finances and stuff. Not out there with, you know, people.”

Annie thought Jordan was surely teasing but the look in her eyes said the fright was genuine. “So you and Matt…just the opposite, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“Matt loved being out with the customers. He hated office work,” she said. “Which is why he taught me a lot of it.”

Jordan nodded. “My experience with working with customers is over the phone or email. I rarely meet our clients in person.”

“What is it that you do?”

“The company I’m with…well, we’re diverse. Financial sector, like I said. We do investing, acquisitions. Buy small companies and then either sell them or merge them. We have clients all over the world.”