Practicing Partners (Maiden’s Bay #2)

Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

brAN STARED AT Joel before taking another sip of his beer. “Do I know her and didn’t realize?”

Joel took out a row of clean glasses from the bottom shelf and placed them on the counter. “No, I don’t believe you know her.”

Bran nodded and stared into his near-empty glass. Sometimes he could be too forward. He knew that all too well. It wasn’t meant to be a flirtation or imply she couldn’t pay for herself. He had been all too aware of her presence right next to Macy, and it was awkward enough for him, let alone a stranger, to be that close to the uncomfortable encounter.

It was a shame, too. He had just seen several people he hadn’t for years come and greet him at the door. It made him feel confident in returning—that maybe it wouldn’t be hard to convince Doc Bernie he was the man for the job, and not some visitor from Texas.

Then, Macy showed up and treated him the way he had expected most, reminding him that not everyone forgave his leaving, his nonchalant non-goodbye to town. What was he supposed to have done? Announce his departure on the radio, on the news, praising Maiden’s Bay for all it had done to support him?

The fact was that Maiden’s Bay did help him in a way—by motivating him to get out as soon as he had the chance. Growing up in a small town was constricting. Everybody knew his business, and he knew theirs. Doc Bernie was such a role model and well respected by the entire town, nothing Bran did could live up to that. Even Dad felt the pressure to be like Doc, hero of the town. And when he fell short—not just anyone could be Doc Bernie—he fell into a wave of depression, which made Bran’s itching to get out even worse.

“Sorry?” Bran shook out of his stupor, realizing Joel had been talking to him.

“I said, was there anything else I can get you?”

“No, this is it. I’ve got somewhere to be.” He gave Joel his card.

Joel touched the screen of the register. “You know, there’s something you should probably know about her.”

“Who?”

“That woman.”

“Yeah?”

“Bran!” A hefty man around Bran’s age waved a hand in the air, the other holding a beer. “They said you were here.” He pointed to a booth of men near the front.

“Kyle Sanders? Long time no see.”

“No kidding.”

They shook hands. Joel interrupted, giving the card back.

“Oh, hold on, Kyle. What was it you were saying, Joel?”

Joel looked over the two men and shook his head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Why don’t you join us?” Kyle had always looked the jock in high school. But his muscular physique got softer and rounder over the years. With a noticeable gold band on his left hand.

“Are you a married man now?”

Kyle stared down at his ring. “I sure am. You remember Emmy Abrams, right?”

Bran vaguely remembered the name but couldn’t pinpoint a face. “You married Emmy?”

“Going on two years now. Expecting our first.”

“Congratulations.” How were people his age marrying, having kids? There was still too much to do, to complete and figure out. To commit to one person right now? Yet the news hit a chord somewhere, just briefly, and Bran felt the faint hint of jealousy.

“Look, can I take a raincheck on joining you? My grandfather is having his seventieth birthday party tonight I have to get to.”

“Doc Bernie, seventy years old? That’s crazy.”

“I know. Hard to believe.”

Kyle smacked Bran’s shoulder. He still had the linebacker hit to him. “Well, tell him I said hello and happy birthday.”

“Will do.” Bran breezed past the crowded booth, giving a brief wave before making his way out the door. The thought of Kyle starting a family kept his thoughts busy as he walked down the wooden staircase to the sidewalk on Pearl Avenue.

The party was being held at The Codfather, one of the fanciest restaurants in Maiden’s Bay. Even with the limited offerings the town had, The Codfather could compete with the finest Seattle had to offer, without the exorbitant prices. Maybe it was because there was less competition for the fresh catch between restaurants, or maybe it came down to being a family-owned business, and they knew their clientele. Most of Maiden’s Bay wasn’t wealthy. They were hard-working, practical people who endured the seasonal tourists and rich tech-guru here and there.

Bran opted to drive to the restaurant. Situated near the top of the hill that formed the eastern arc of the town, it was quite an uphill jaunt, and it wasn’t that cold to not be sweating by the time he’d arrive.

The parking lot was filling up quickly, which was no surprise given the clout Doc Bernie held with the town. Silver and gold balloons formed an archway to the front door, and large yard signs spelled out Happy 70th Doc! It didn’t quite go with the seriousness of the restaurant, but it was a party, after all, and Doc was known to have a little fun with things.

Like not telling Bran about his competition.

Bran took in a breath before entering. Generic Italian instrumental music played beneath the chitchat of the guests.

A hostess wearing a starchy white shirt underneath a black vest greeted him with a smile. “Here for the party?”

He doubted the restaurant was open to regular patrons, so what other reason would he be here for? He shook it off and nodded.

“Both sides are open.”

“Thank you.”

The restaurant had two sections, split by the entryway. Bran turned left, the larger area of the two.

“Bran!” Nathaniel waved him over. Bran knew his brother had joined the rowing team in college, but wasn’t expecting his long lanky bones to have put on some brawn.

“It’s been too long, man.” He patted Nathaniel on the shoulder. “Look at you, adulting.”

Nathaniel flashed a smile. At least that was still boyish. “You look just as I remember. Want a drink?”

“Sure.” How he wished he had a little more to drink at Campy’s. Even though he was usually successful in coming off as friendly and confident, it took work. An energy that wasn’t infinite. Though, if he had more to drink, he would’ve been reduced to walking up the hill. It was probably for the better.

“What’ll it be?” Nathaniel waved down the bartender.

Bran didn’t want to be the only one holding hard liquor, as most of the guests he glanced at on the way to the long bar spanning most of the room held wine or champagne. “I’ll take a glass of red, please.”

Nathaniel ordered two and tipped the bartender.

“Wait, I should be getting that.”

Nathaniel grinned. “I can manage to get my big brother a drink.”

“How about I repay you tonight? Head out to Campy’s after this, or we can buy some beer and hang out by the lighthouse.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe my brother’s old enough to drink.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got plans with Gwen, then I gotta head back to campus tonight.” He nodded to a young woman across the bar, who waved in return.

“Gonna go with your girlfriend over your own brother, huh? I see how it is.”

“Sorry, but she drove in just for this.”

“It’s okay.” The fact his brother connected with someone on that level ramped up Bran’s envy. If no man was an island, why did he feel so much like one? “You have fun, all right? By the way, have you seen Doc yet?”

“No. Gwen and I got here right before you.”

“Nathaniel!” A guy near Gwen waved him over.

“Go ahead.” Bran gave him an approving smile, despite wanting to spend more time with his only sibling. Nathaniel took off through the crowd, and Bran turned the other way to look for Doc, when he bumped into someone. Wine splattered on his sweater. The woman gasped, his wine having spilled on her top.

“It’s you.” The woman from Campy’s, the one he’d offered to pay for her dinner, set her purse down on the bar.

She examined her white blouse beneath the blazer, her shirt getting more of the brunt of the spill than his sweater. Although he did feel the coolness seeping through to his chest.

Bran hurried around, grabbing a stack of cocktail napkins.

“Here.” The bartender handed him a plastic bottle of club soda.

“Thanks.” He offered the napkins, and she grabbed half of them hastily. He doused the rest with the club soda but didn’t dare touch her blouse with them. Instead, he stood there, mouth open, not knowing what to say, waiting for her to take them.

“I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—I didn’t know—”

“What’s done is done.” She finally grabbed the wet napkins and dabbed them on the stain.

“Let me buy you a new one, or at least pay to get it dry-cleaned.”

“Are you always offering to pay for things for women?”

Bran didn’t know whether to laugh or scoff, slightly taken aback. “Just raised with manners. I think my grandfather would kill me if I didn’t offer. Do you always turn down guys who offer to pay? I’d like to think there’s still some chivalry these days.”

The woman sighed, relaxing a tad, shifting her weight onto one foot. “I’m sorry. It’s just that, what you did back there at the bar, turning that lovely woman’s anger around with what I felt like were hollow words.” She shook her head again. “Actually, it was none of my business. I shouldn’t have listened in on it.”

“It was probably hard not to.” He half-smiled. “I don’t particularly like when people are upset with me, so I tried to… make her… not upset with me.” Even he knew that didn’t sound great.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” He spilled wine on her. She deserved however many questions she wanted answered.

“Why didn’t you say goodbye to that woman, back then, I mean? Because to me it seemed like you just didn’t care about her enough to say goodbye.”

She had him there. She’d caught on to the truth so easily, not even knowing him. Why hadn’t Macy seen that? Because his charm worked on Macy. Not on this woman. Yet again, he was delaying the inevitable with a woman and being called out for it.

“I think your lack of a response is answer enough.”

Bran rolled his tongue over his cheek. Did this woman never make a relationship mistake? Who was she to judge, anyway? “Well, this has been… something. I am sorry for the shirt—”

“Bran!” Doc Bernie put his hand on Bran’s shoulder. “And Aubrie! Oh, good, you’re both here.”

How Doc Bernie knew this woman, Bran had no idea. But any more words exchanged with her this evening were enough for a lifetime.

“Doc.” Nathaniel tapped Doc’s shoulder from behind. Doc’s face lit with joy as he embraced his other grandson. Not quite the welcome Bran had experienced with Doc. But Nathaniel had always done everything right—dating, college, regularly visiting home. He made it hard not to love him.

“How are you doing, my boy?” Doc braced him on the arms. “Here you are getting fitter with age, while I’m doing the opposite.”

“Oh, nonsense.”

“Hey, how about you and Gwen come by the house afterward?”

“We’ll see. Might be able to swing by for a few minutes.”

“Great.”

“I’d better get back. There’s a few guys—”

“No, no. Go on. Have fun.”

Nathaniel retreated back into the crowd, while Doc turned his focus back to Bran.

“He’s a good kid, that one.” Doc looked at Bran, taking a second to remember where they’d been in the conversation. “Ah, yes. Bran, this is the new hire I was telling you about, Doctor Aubrie Turnbridge. Aubrie, this is my grandson Bran.”

The horror in Aubrie’s brown eyes was almost worth seeing, were it not for the reason it occurred.

“Bran… Jackson, then?” Aubrie took a step back. “Joel didn’t tell me your last name.”

“Nor did he tell me why you were visiting Maiden’s Bay.” It wormed its way out of his clenched jaw.

“Oh, do you two know each other?”

“No.” Bran managed to swallow the news and gave Doc a smile.

“I think we know each other enough.” Aubrie gave Bran a smile, one only he could register the sarcastic tone to, before giving a warmer one to Doc Bernie.

Doc set his confusion aside. “Well, as I told you, Aubrie comes to us from Texas. So, I expect you to make her feel welcome.”

“Oh, he’s made me feel….” Her gaze turned to Bran again. “Something, all right.”

“You two will be working together, so I need you to feel comfortable with each other. The quicker you can establish a rapport, the better you can work as a team to help the people of Maiden’s Bay.”

Bran nodded slowly. “I’m pretty sure we’ve established a rapport.”

“Quite.” Aubrie reached for her purse on the bar.

Doc tapped her arm. “Goodness, what happened to your shirt?”

“A little wine spill.” She said it with good humor, though Bran knew better than to think she meant it.

Bran clutched his chest, feeling his own spillage on his fingertips. “It was entirely my fault, Doc. I had bumped into her.” He stared at her less-shocked brown eyes. “I offered to compensate for dry cleaning expenses.”

“It’s not a big deal.” Aubrie waved it off.

“That was gentlemanly of you,” Doc Bernie said.

“Anyway, I should probably head out, get settled in,” Bran said.

“Oh, no, you can’t go before I make the announcement and introduce you two.”

“What?” Aubrie said. There was that shock again.

“Happy Birthday to you—” A quartet of waiters came out of the kitchen carrying a large rectangular cake. “Happy Birthday to you.”

They finished the song with a long pause between Doc Bernie’s name and the last happy birthday. The crowd clapped, and Doc Bernie’s joyful smile was contagious.

Until Bran turned to Aubrie for a split second.

They both turned away quickly. He was supposed to work with her, for days, weeks maybe? Hopefully her bedside manner was more polite and less riddled with judgment.

Bran turned his focus to Doc Bernie, who blew out the candles to applause. It was something that Doc was turning seventy. And it was more than something that this seventy-year-old man held Bran’s future in his hands.