“All right.”
“So… I’ll guess I’ll let you go, then.”
“Have a good meeting. I hope Blair and Vincent aren’t too unbearable.”
He doesn’t laugh. His voice is quite serious as he says,“I love you, Josephine.”
My eyes press closed. My grip tightens around my coffee cup.
Why is it so difficult to say it back?
“I love you, too.”
The call clicks off. The screen goes dark. And those three little words sit heavy on my tongue, tasting more and more like a lie with each passing moment.
* * *
It’s half-past two when the outer gate buzzer rings. I hit pause on my episode ofThe Great British Bake-Offwhen I hear it. Typically, Mrs. Granger is the one to handle the comings and goings at Cormorant House, but since she’s out at the grocery store — no doubt stocking up on a pantry’s worth of sickeningly healthy snacks — I’m the one who answers the intercom. The stranger — a wizened, white-haired man of middle years who looks like he’s spent more than a few decades in the sun — introduces himself politely as the “boat maintenance man.”
I buzz him through the gates and peer out the front window as his sagging Ford rolls slowly around the circular driveway. The truck bed is full of empty lobster traps and bait-storage crates.
“You’re not Mrs. Granger,” the man says by way of greeting, climbing down out of the cab.
“No,” I confirm. I stick out my hand, and he envelops it firmly inside his. His grip is callused, rough in a way that only comes from years of hard labor. “I’m Josephine Valentine. This is my parents’ house.”
Something like recognition flashes across the man’s expression, but it’s gone far too quickly to decipher. “Josephine, is it? I’m Tommy Mahoney.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Mahoney.”
“No need for formalities. Just call me Tommy. Everyone else does.”
“Okay. Tommy it is, then.” I shoot a smile at him. One he does not return. I’m not offended; I get the immediate sense that smiling is not something he does often. “Unfortunately, there’s not much work for you to do today. My father’s Hinckley is still here but Cupid, my Alerion, sank in that freak storm yesterday, just off the coast of Great Misery.”
“You don’t say.”
My head tilts sideways at the wry note in his voice. “Yeah, it was a real bummer. I’ve had her for years. Losing her feels a bit like losing a limb.”
“Tricky weather, that was. You’re lucky you got out alive.” Two salt-white brows arch. “Anyone come to your aid out there?”
“Thankfully, there was a lobsterman nearby and willing to lend a hand. I’m not sure I would’ve been so lucky if he hadn’t heard my distress call and shown up to pull me from the water.” I pause a beat, laughing humorlessly under my breath. “Though I seriously doubt he sees it that way.”
“Now, why would you think a thing like that?”
“Oh. Uh…” I swallow hard, instantly regretting my words. “He ended up sinking his own boat, trying to save me.” Aiming for nonchalance, I shrug. “Not sure it was a fair trade, in his eyes.”
Tommy says nothing. But his eyes — the palest shade of blue I’ve ever seen, made more so in contrast to his sun-weathered skin — scan my face so intently, it’s like he’s trying to see into my soul. Normally, this might make me uncomfortable, but there’s something oddly comforting about his closed-off demeanor. I find myself wanting to tell him all my secrets. Knowing he would keep them.
Maybe I do have a concussion, after all.
Finally, Tommy drops his eyes. With an awkward cough, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. The silence has stretched on for far too long.
“Sorry,” I say sheepishly. Embarrassment heats through me, burning the tips of my ears. I’m sure my cheeks are flaming red. “I don’t know why I told you any of that.”
“No need for apologies. And no need for such thoughts. I’m sure that man — whoever he is — doesn’t feel that way. Any mariner worth his salt would happily sacrifice his boat for his girl.”
“Oh,” I blurt. “I’m not his girl. I’m just—” I break off abruptly, unsure why I’m bothering to explain my twisted saga with Archer to a total stranger. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Whatever you say.” Tommy pauses. “Though if you’re feeling guilty over things, you could always do something to make it up to him.”