It Comes In Waves by Erika Marks Page B

she’d be just as happy to have
you
give her a lesson.”
    â€œNo, I’m fairly certain she wouldn’t be.”
    â€œSpeaking of which . . .” Gus sat forward. “What do I have to do to get
you
back on a board while you’re here?”
    â€œForget it. My daughter would be mortified. Besides, it’s been too long. I’d wipe out before I ever got up.”
    â€œOh come on. . . .” He grinned. “It’s true what they say, you know.”
    â€œAnd what is that?”
    â€œIt’s just like riding a bike.”
    Claire set down her coffee. “I haven’t been on one of those lately either.”
    â€œThen you should prepare yourself. Surfing’s a very different sport now than the one you left.”
    â€œShouldn’t we talk about the interview?” she said. “Adam said you’d have details for me about tomorrow.”
    â€œHe’ll have a car pick you up at the hotel at a quarter to ten,” said Gus. “I’d bring some sunscreen and a good book. I’ll bet they’ll have you out there most of the day.”
    Most of the day? “How much do they think I have to say?” she asked.
    â€œSomeone with your history and your talent? A lot, I’m sure.”
    Claire glanced at his travel cup. “You always bring your own mug?”
    â€œAre you kidding?” He snorted. “I bring my own
coffee
. Between you and me, I’m not a big fan of this place. It’s trendy and overpriced, but Adam already had this lined up, so I didn’t want to rock the boat.”
    â€œOverpriced and trendy, huh?” she repeated pointedly.
“Really?”
    â€œMy store isn’t trendy.”
    â€œJust overpriced?”
    Gus met her narrowed gaze, his gray eyes flashing with earnestness. “I’m not a bad guy, Claire. I’m just an ex-surfer who still loves the sport and loves helping people do it right. I won’t apologize for that.”
    â€œEven if it means putting someone else out of business?”
    â€œNow, hold on. I haven’t put anyone out of business.”
    â€œClearly you have. The waiter at the Trap said In the Curl was for sale.”
    â€œThat wasn’t Fins’ doing. Business has been slow for Ivy for years. She just felt it was time to retire, that’s all.”
    Claire bristled at the easy way he used Foster’s mother’s name, as if they were good friends.
    â€œAnd Ivy told you this?” she asked skeptically.
    â€œIn so many words.”
    Claire stared at him, unconvinced.
    â€œBut I’m sure you’ve been out there already and talked to her yourself,” he said.
    Shame tightened her throat. It was, of course, damn nervy of her to question his affection for Ivy when she herself hadn’t even put in a call to let Ivy know she was here.
    â€œNo,” Claire admitted quietly. “I haven’t had a chance yet.”
    Gus settled back into his chair and stretched out his legs. “When was the last time you saw it?”
    When? God . . . Claire studied her coffee before she took another sip, unsure of her measure. She “saw” the shop long after her last visit there. For years its crowded interior was the constant backdrop of her dreams. Did that count?
    She swallowed her coffee. “It’s been a while.”
    â€œFrom what I hear, it never changed.”
    â€œI’m glad.”
    â€œDon’t be,” said Gus. “Change is crucial when you’re trying to compete in a growing market.”
    â€œMaybe Ivy didn’t want to compete.”
    â€œTrust me; everybody wants to compete.” Gus reached for his coffee. “You did once, didn’t you?”
    She met his gaze across the table, startled at the bald challenge in it. What did he know about what she’d wanted?
    â€œLook,” Gus said. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”
    â€œYou mean the