Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
I take another bite.
This time it’s even better. Ketchup is a miracle condiment. I almost smile, thinking about what Nana would say to that. She hated ketchup. Said it was a poor man’s salsa.
Ben smiles at me from across the table.
Warm quivers shoot through me.
Ben is gorgeous, and I haven’t felt a tingle like this in a long time.
And it feels…good.
It feels good to know I’m with a man who won’t hurt me.
Because Ben won’t hurt me.
I know that already.
But knowing I can trust him and actually trusting him are two completely different things.
Still, a blanket of appreciation covers me, keeping me warm.
“Thank you,” I say.
He lifts his eyebrows. “For the burger? You’re welcome.”
“Well, yeah. For the burger, for getting me out, but also for making me feel safe.”
“You’ll always be safe with me, Tessa.” His face is serene. “Always. Take that to the bank.”
Chapter Eight
Ben
I’m exhausted after a slew of afternoon meetings, but I don’t want to break the date with Tessa at the Oyster House. She wants to get out more. She nearly said as much after lunch. And she seems to feel safe with me, so I’m the perfect person to escort her. Doesn’t hurt that I enjoy spending time with her, either.
Braden is back from New York, so before I leave work for the day, I knock on his cracked open door, peeking in.
“Yeah, come in, Ben.”
I enter, closing the door behind me, and take a seat opposite his desk.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“Tessa Logan got laid off from her job.”
He widens his eyes. “She did?”
“Yeah. After everything she’s been through. Can you believe it? I told her we could always use a good accountant here at the company.”
“Yeah, of course. Whatever she needs. We’ll find room for her.”
“Thanks. She needs to be keeping busy right now. If she’s out of work, she’ll just—”
“Sit around and ruminate. Yeah. Believe me, I get it.”
“I know you do. And so do I.” My brother doesn’t know the half of it.
Braden grabs a pad of sticky notes and writes some things down. “I’ll take care of it. From what I know, Tessa’s more than competent, but I’ll give her previous employer a quick call to verify. She can start right away. With all these new business deals we’ve got brewing, we can always use more help.”
“That’s what I told her, but she thought it was a pity job.”
Braden chuckles. “She ought to know better than that. You and I don’t give out pity jobs.”
“That’s what I tried to tell her.”
“Cut her some slack,” Braden says. “She’s having a rough time.”
“I know. I want to cut her all the slack she needs, but that doesn’t include sitting around unemployed. She’ll feel useless, and that’s the last thing she needs.”
“I agree with you there.”
“I’m meeting her for dinner tonight at the Oyster House to wrap up the final details for the weekend. Text me once you talk to her previous employer. Then I’ll tell her she’s got a job if she wants it. My concern is that she won’t take it.”
“You’re going to have to insist.”
“That may make her want to take it less.”
“All right…” Braden rubs his chin. “Tell her you talked to me, and there’s a job available starting tomorrow if she wants it. But if she doesn’t, that’s okay. We totally understand. If she does want it, she can report to HR tomorrow at ten a.m.”
“Okay. We’ll make it her choice.” I scratch at an itch that pops up on my forehead. “Although I guess it’s her choice anyway. But she may decide to take the week off since we’re leaving Thursday night for Jamaica.” I shake my head. “I hope not. I shudder to think about what she will do for two days sitting alone in her apartment with nothing to do.”
“I know. It’s not a good thing to be alone with your thoughts sometimes. Especially when you’re getting over trauma.”
“Exactly,” I say. My brother gets it. And not for the first time, I’m both grateful to have him and consumed with guilt to be keeping secrets from him.
…
“Ben,” one of my favorite shuckers, Charlie, says, “who’s the pretty lady?”
Tessa looks gorgeous in dark blue jeans and a pale pink blouse. She’s glancing around, no doubt feeling like she’s stepped back in time. At least that’s how I always feel when I come here. I can’t believe she’s never sat at the oyster bar. The bar is made of dark wood, and the stools have brass footrests. It’s iconic, and I love it here.
“This is Tessa,” I say. “Tessa, this is Charlie, one of the shuckers.”
“Nice to meet you.” Tessa moves her gaze to the star of the show at the oyster bar—the impressive display of fresh oysters. The counter showcases the day’s selection of oysters on ice, their shells glistening with seawater.