questionnaires.
“You’ll love it here, trust me. Isn’t that the truth, Cindy?”
he asked, taking the drink order of the woman sitting next to her—a dry
martini.
“It is. We’ve come back here on our anniversary the past two
years. And Jack’s the best martini maker in the state. I had my first martini
right here at this bar on my wedding night.”
“I remember that night. The entire inn was booked for your
wedding,” Jack said, taking down a bottle of gin from the shelf at the back of
the bar.
As he moved down the bar to prepare the martini, Marnie watched
him, searching her memory for some of the questions she’d need answered in order
to complete the bar section of the survey.
Cindy gave him a grateful smile when he returned. “Thank you,”
she said, reaching for the glass.
He placed the napkin in front of her as she took the glass.
“Enjoy.”
Jack turned to another customer, leaving Marnie to observe the
efficient way he moved, mixing drinks while keeping up a flow of conversation
with the patrons. He certainly knew his job, she mused, watching him as he
loaded a blender with ingredients from the fridge and the counter in front of
him.
“Is this bar always this busy?” she asked Cindy.
“Yes. And I’m sure Jack has a lot to do with it,” she said, her
voice trailing off. Again her gaze moved to the door. “What could be keeping my
husband? I’d like you to meet him.”
“I’m sure he’ll be along soon,” she offered to ease the woman’s
obvious anxiety. “Do you live in Boston?”
With a huge smile, Cindy answered. “We live in Boston. I’m a
kindergarten teacher, and I love it. The four- and five-year-olds are so
cute.”
“Like Ethan?”
“Oh, you’ve met him already? Isn’t he the sweetest little boy?
And so sad that he lost his mommy.”
“Yeah. It must have been hard for his dad, too.” Marnie checked
her watch, wondering where Luke could be.
“I see we’re in the same boat.” Cindy nodded at Marnie’s watch.
“We’re both waiting for the men in our lives.” Cindy smiled at someone behind
Marnie. “And here’s mine now.”
Marnie turned on her stool and nearly fell off. Coming toward
them was Brad Parker, the man she’d nearly married eleven years ago. The man who
told her he couldn’t marry her because he didn’t want a wife who put her career
first. What he really meant was he couldn’t give up the playmate he’d stashed
away in an apartment in downtown Boston.
For about ten seconds Marnie considered walking out of the bar
to avoid him. But she hadn’t done anything wrong, unless you counted falling in
love with a loser. A love that died the evening she’d grown suspicious of his
frequent business demands and followed him across town to his girlfriend’s
place. She’d nearly turned her brothers loose on him, but she decided that he
wasn’t worth it.
She watched, waiting for his phony smile to come her way, as
she knew it would. Brad could never resist sizing up the women in any room he
entered. And sure enough, after a smile tossed his wife’s way his eyes swerved
to her. The muted light of the bar was still bright enough to expose the sudden
blanching of his skin and the rigor mortis smile claiming his handsome
features.
“Marnie, this is my husband, Brad Parker. Brad, this is
Marnie.” Cindy looked from Marnie to her husband, her face beaming.
Feeling nothing for the man standing in front of her, Marnie
waited for Brad to say something to smooth over the awkward moment, something
Brad was very good at when he wanted to be. If he used his usual technique, he’d
make some remark about where they might have met, and she’d take her cue from
him.
He hesitated. Then he moved in between them, his arm going
around his wife’s shoulders as he stared at Marnie. “Do I know you?” he
asked.
“You look familiar,” she said, her smile easy, despite her
shock at seeing him and his refusal to at least acknowledge her.
“I’m often
“You’ll love it here, trust me. Isn’t that the truth, Cindy?”
he asked, taking the drink order of the woman sitting next to her—a dry
martini.
“It is. We’ve come back here on our anniversary the past two
years. And Jack’s the best martini maker in the state. I had my first martini
right here at this bar on my wedding night.”
“I remember that night. The entire inn was booked for your
wedding,” Jack said, taking down a bottle of gin from the shelf at the back of
the bar.
As he moved down the bar to prepare the martini, Marnie watched
him, searching her memory for some of the questions she’d need answered in order
to complete the bar section of the survey.
Cindy gave him a grateful smile when he returned. “Thank you,”
she said, reaching for the glass.
He placed the napkin in front of her as she took the glass.
“Enjoy.”
Jack turned to another customer, leaving Marnie to observe the
efficient way he moved, mixing drinks while keeping up a flow of conversation
with the patrons. He certainly knew his job, she mused, watching him as he
loaded a blender with ingredients from the fridge and the counter in front of
him.
“Is this bar always this busy?” she asked Cindy.
“Yes. And I’m sure Jack has a lot to do with it,” she said, her
voice trailing off. Again her gaze moved to the door. “What could be keeping my
husband? I’d like you to meet him.”
“I’m sure he’ll be along soon,” she offered to ease the woman’s
obvious anxiety. “Do you live in Boston?”
With a huge smile, Cindy answered. “We live in Boston. I’m a
kindergarten teacher, and I love it. The four- and five-year-olds are so
cute.”
“Like Ethan?”
“Oh, you’ve met him already? Isn’t he the sweetest little boy?
And so sad that he lost his mommy.”
“Yeah. It must have been hard for his dad, too.” Marnie checked
her watch, wondering where Luke could be.
“I see we’re in the same boat.” Cindy nodded at Marnie’s watch.
“We’re both waiting for the men in our lives.” Cindy smiled at someone behind
Marnie. “And here’s mine now.”
Marnie turned on her stool and nearly fell off. Coming toward
them was Brad Parker, the man she’d nearly married eleven years ago. The man who
told her he couldn’t marry her because he didn’t want a wife who put her career
first. What he really meant was he couldn’t give up the playmate he’d stashed
away in an apartment in downtown Boston.
For about ten seconds Marnie considered walking out of the bar
to avoid him. But she hadn’t done anything wrong, unless you counted falling in
love with a loser. A love that died the evening she’d grown suspicious of his
frequent business demands and followed him across town to his girlfriend’s
place. She’d nearly turned her brothers loose on him, but she decided that he
wasn’t worth it.
She watched, waiting for his phony smile to come her way, as
she knew it would. Brad could never resist sizing up the women in any room he
entered. And sure enough, after a smile tossed his wife’s way his eyes swerved
to her. The muted light of the bar was still bright enough to expose the sudden
blanching of his skin and the rigor mortis smile claiming his handsome
features.
“Marnie, this is my husband, Brad Parker. Brad, this is
Marnie.” Cindy looked from Marnie to her husband, her face beaming.
Feeling nothing for the man standing in front of her, Marnie
waited for Brad to say something to smooth over the awkward moment, something
Brad was very good at when he wanted to be. If he used his usual technique, he’d
make some remark about where they might have met, and she’d take her cue from
him.
He hesitated. Then he moved in between them, his arm going
around his wife’s shoulders as he stared at Marnie. “Do I know you?” he
asked.
“You look familiar,” she said, her smile easy, despite her
shock at seeing him and his refusal to at least acknowledge her.
“I’m often
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