Then He Kissed Me (Whispering Bay Romance 2)

“Don’t worry, I have complete faith in you.” She remembered the letter in her pocket. “I need to go pick Frida’s brain. Thanks for the invitation, though.”

Allie smiled and went on to help the next customer. Lauren sat down at the last available table by the water and motioned to Frida. “What’s up?” Frida asked, joining her a few minutes later.

“Sorry to interrupt during the breakfast rush, but do you a have a minute?” Lauren pulled the letter from her pocket and handed it to her friend.

Frida read the letter. “It looks like maybe the owner is getting ready to sell. How much time is left on your lease?”

“My lease expires in October.”

Frida studied the letter once more. “Or it could mean that they’re thinking of doing some renovations.” She folded the letter and handed it back to Lauren. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Either way, even if they sell the place the owner will more than likely keep leasing to you. As long as I’ve been here, that building has been prime rental property. Just call them and find out.”

Lauren nodded. That made sense. She paid a pretty penny to lease that building. More than she could afford, really, but li

ke Frida said, the location was excellent. The majority of her customers were either tourists or wealthy locals who wanted to visit a shop with some panache. Being right on the water and next door to The Bistro were two big bonuses she didn’t want to give up. She’d love to buy the building herself. She had a trust fund, one that had been set up for her by her grandfather, but she was reluctant to touch it. For one thing, it was her nest egg. The money she could count on if anything were to ever go wrong.

She’d been living on the money from the sale on the house in Atlanta, but that was going to run out soon. Tom provided generous child support for Henry, and he wanted to pay her alimony, but Lauren had refused. Her parents were always offering to help as well. But it was important to Lauren that she make it on her own. The way Frida had. And she couldn’t justify buying the building until the business was turning a regular profit. She was lucky enough to have the trust fund, but she also had an obligation to not squander the money given to her.

The reality of it, though, was that unless every day was like last Saturday, her little shop wasn’t going to make it till October. And then what? She could go back to teaching or she could live off the interest from her trust fund. Neither option was horrible, but they both smacked of failure in her mind.

Her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and glanced at the screen. It was Momma. “It’s my mom. Sorry, but I need to take this. Thanks for the advice,” Lauren told Frida. “I’ll call the realty company when I get a chance.”

“Don’t forget we need to get together and talk about Mimi’s next fundraiser. Bruce Bailey just got a big contribution from the country club and we need to squash him and his elitist bugs before they get the jump on us.”

“Will do,” Lauren promised. She waited till Frida had left the table then answered her phone. “Hey, Momma.”

“Oh, thank God! Your Daddy is having one of his fits. Please, Lauren, I need you right now.”

Nate juggled his coffee in one hand, his backpack in the other, and opened the door to the back entrance to his office. From the look of the employees’ parking lot, most of the staff was already here. Except he hadn’t noticed Doc Morrison’s car, a twenty-year-old tan Volvo sedan, which was unusual. Doc was always the first person here in the morning. Nate swung by the older man’s office to find it empty.

“He called in sick,” said Lola Davies, coming up from behind him. Lola was Dr. Morrison’s nurse and the real power behind the throne. Nate had been here six months. It had only taken him six minutes to figure out that if you wanted anything done, you went to Lola first.

“Not seriously ill, I hope,” he said.

“Doc has called in sick twice in his life. Once back in nineteen-ninety eight when he came down with strep throat, and today.”

That didn’t sound good.

Lola must have read the concern on his face because she said, “Don’t worry, I’ve already called him. He’s just…a little under the weather.” She eyed him carefully. “How about you? How are you feeling today?”

“Fine, thanks.”

“You sure about that?”

“Positive.” Nate went to his office, shrugged out of his jacket and put on his lab coat. Dr. Nathanial Miller was monogrammed in black thread over the right hand breast pocket. It had been a gift from his mother when he’d graduated med school. Which reminded him, he still hadn’t told his family what went down this past weekend. He hadn’t even told them that he’d planned to propose to Jessica, so maybe telling them that she’d turned him down wasn’t necessary. But he’d have to tell them that they’d broken up. He and Jessica had been dating for over three years. Eventually, they’d begin to wonder what happened to her.

Lola followed him into his office. “So, this is a big day for you.”

“It is?”

“It’s your first day skippering the ship all by yourself. You’ll have to pick up all of Doc’s patients, plus the three lost souls who’ve made appointments to come see you,” she said, taking obvious relish in that last part.

“Why don’t you like me?” he asked.

If she was surprised by his bluntness she didn’t show it, which only made him like her even more. Most people were put off by his directness, but Nate had always found that mincing words only wasted time.

“Who says I don’t like you? I’ve always been drawn to incompetent people.” She slapped down a print out of today’s appointments on his desk. “There’s already four patients waiting in the exam rooms. Ellen can take care of the first two.” Ellen Waters was the office’s nurse practitioner. She had twenty years of experience under her belt and Nate had already benefited from her expertise. Plus, she didn’t seem to harbor the same animosity toward him that Lola did, which made her an ally of sorts.

He took one last sip of his coffee and was about to head down to the exam rooms when his cell phone rang. It was his mother. Connie Miller didn’t call her children at work unless it was important.