Yours Since Yesterday

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Well, that definitely had not gone the way he’d expected. Padric steered the speedboat he’d rented in Aurora Bay into the temporary guest tie-up spot. He’d taken the long way to Lost Harbor—flown into Anchorage, then hired a helicopter to take him to Aurora Bay, then rented the Jaunty for the cruise to Lost Harbor.

Dodging paparazzi could be a full-time job sometimes, but it was worth it. He hadn’t wanted to show up in Lost Harbor like an asshole with cameras trailing behind him. If they tracked him down, so be it, he’d deal with it then. But at least he had a head start.

As his boat nudged up against the float, he caught sight of someone running down the ramp. For a moment, he hoped it was Zoe, changing her mind about that cold shoulder she was giving him. He was here for her, after all.

Of course, she’d had no clue that he was coming. Maybe that explained her strange reaction. He hadn’t expected her to flee at the sight of him.

He also hadn’t expected her to look like…that. Like a stunning goddamn oil painting from Italy or something. She’d always been the kind of girl you couldn’t look away from—or at least he couldn’t. But her features had never quite fit right in her face—eyebrows too dark, nose too big, mouth too full, everything competing for attention. But now it all harmonized perfectly—beautifully.

Zoe was beautiful.

And just as proud as ever, judging by the tilt of her head as she’d watched him cruise in. She wasn’t his awkward best friend anymore. Not awkward, and obviously not his best friend. She hadn’t even smiled at him before she ran up the ramp.

But no, the new arrival wasn’t Zoe coming back to say a proper hello. It was Nate Prudhoe, who reached the slip at a jog just as Padric turned off the engine.

“Nice timing,” Padric told his old friend as he tossed him a line. Nate ran it around the cleat.

“It took exactly thirty seconds for word to get out,” Nate said in his laughing way. “I figured you might need some backup. No entourage, no security, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking Lost Harbor doesn’t give a s**t about all that. Besides, who needs an entourage when I have you?”

He stepped off the boat and pulled Nate in for a hug. Padric didn’t believe in man-hugs. With people he cared about, he went for the real thing.

“It’s good to see you, man,” said Nate, pounding his back. Nate was such a good guy—one of the all-around greats, and Padric had met a lot of people in his career. “Do you have bags? Where are you staying? You can crash on my floor if you want. Just like old times.”

“Just one bag.” He hopped back into the boat to grab his travel bag from under the bench. While he was there, he snagged a wide-brimmed fishing hat and his sunglasses. With those two items, he would look like any other visitor to the harbor.

But maybe not, judging by Nate’s crossed arms and out-loud laugh. “You’re not fooling anyone, superstar.”

“You’d be surprised.” Padric shouldered the bag and stepped back onto the float. The familiar harbor smells—fish guts, diesel, salt breeze—took him right back to his earliest days. His father had been a commercial fisherman, mostly salmon but some other varieties. Padric had helped out on the boat from the time he could haul in a net. He hadn’t always loved it; it was boring and often cold and uncomfortable. His favorite part had been the slow times when he could watch the ocean and let images flow through his mind.

With the Jaunty secured, he and Nate walked up the ramp toward the boardwalk, which was much busier than Padric remembered. “How’ve you been, Nate? Haven’t seen you since—where was that?”

“Houston. Great show.”

“Thanks for coming. It was good to see a friend there.” Padric noticed that Nate hadn’t answered the first question. “You still with that girl, um…” The hell if he could remember her name, but the three of them had gone out for drinks after the show. He and Nate had spent the whole evening reminiscing about Lost Harbor, and he’d felt bad for…um…

Nate laughed. “Don’t work too hard on her name. We broke up. But for your records, it’s Mary Lou.”

“Mary Lou. Right. Sorry, dude. You seemed like you had a pretty good thing going.”

Nate shrugged lightly. “Things come and go, know what I mean?”

They reached the busy boardwalk, which was constructed with weathered planks that needed repairs every spring. A fresh white railing extended the entire mile-length of the boardwalk; both he and Nate had spent many hours volunteering with paint brushes every spring. Lost Harbor was an all-hands-on-deck kind of place.

“Business looks pretty good, I’ll say that. I don’t remember this place being so crowded.”

“An article came out a few years ago in Sunset Magazine. They called us a hidden gem. Things haven’t been the same since. Did you catch our Trekking episode a few weeks ago? That brought another wave.”

“Missed that one.” They ambled along the boardwalk, past kids with ice cream cones and tourists taking selfies with picturesque “bear-viewing” storefronts. The knot in Nate’s stomach loosened just a bit. Being back wasn’t…terrible.

“You gotta check it out. Zoe was in it.” Nate shot Padric a curious glance. “Still an off-limits topic?”

“Nah. Actually, she’s the reason I’m here. How’s she doing?”

Nate dodged a kid on a skateboard. “Busy. That pizza place is a gold mine these days. She’s training up her kid sisters to take some of the load off.”

Huh. No mention of any health issues. Maybe Zoe’s condition wasn’t common knowledge yet.

He’d better not reveal anything—it wasn’t his secret to share, after all.

“Do people still talk about…”

“The Scandal? Nah, not really. There’ve been several dozen scandals since then. Occasionally it comes up, because the Jeffers name is all over this town. And because you’re, you know…you.”

Padric cringed a bit inside. As an intrinsically introverted person, the spotlight aspect of being a singer always made him uncomfortable. Yeah, he’d gotten used to it. And it was a small price to pay for making his living as a recording artist. But it didn’t come naturally to him.

“So anyway, you never said where you’re staying.”

“I was thinking I’d try out that candy-ass new hotel they built.”

“New? You mean the one that’s been here fourteen years?”

“New to me. I watched them frame it up that last summer I was here. Always wondered how it would turn out.”

“Overpriced and overhyped. There, I saved you the trouble.” Nate grinned at him.

God, it was good to see him. Nate was a salt-of-the-earth kind of guy. Loyal, solid, unpretentious, funny, good-hearted.

“Well, I figure I’ll pump as much money into the local economy as I can.”

“No one’s going to argue with that.”

A gap between two shingled buildings offered a glimpse of the road and the businesses on the other side. Which happened to include Last Chance Pizza. As usual, a line of customers clustered outside the front door. A chilly breeze cut across the bay, causing them to zip up their fleece jackets and tuck their hands in their pockets.

Padric couldn’t help searching for a glimpse of Zoe. Steam fogged the picture window, with its view of the brick oven and the kitchen area. The painted words “Pizza,” “Salad,” “Wine and beer” got in the way too. But even so, he spotted Zoe’s dark head bent over her work. She wore an orange bandanna that kept her curly hair in a wild pile on top of her head.

Then his view vanished when he tripped over the back wheel of someone’s cruiser bike. He nearly took a header right onto the weathered planks.

“You okay there, man?” Nate grabbed his arm. “Wouldn’t want to you to break a tooth, not to mention ten million teenage hearts.”

“Cute.” Padric regained his balance and adjusted his fishing hat, which had gone askew. “I’m good. Come on, let’s get out of here.” His little mishap had captured the attention of a few onlookers. If they looked too closely, he might be busted.

“Yeah, can’t gawk at Zoe Bellini forever. Let’s book.”

“I wasn’t—” But Nate was already a few steps ahead, charging through the mill of tourists like the first responder he was.

Whatever. Face it, he had been gawking. But who could blame him? Zoe had grown up…just…beyond his imagination, and he had a really good imagination.

They walked the rest of the way to the Eagle’s Nest Resort and Hotel. Apparently the fact that the place had Jacuzzis meant they could call it a resort, because beyond that, it didn’t resemble any of the high-end places Padric had stayed over the years.

The desk clerk didn’t blink at the cash Padric offered for his suite, or at the name he provided. Gavin Strike happened to be his security guy. They had a name-sharing arrangement for those times when Padric wanted maximum anonymity.

It was probably pointless here in Lost Harbor, but in case any paparazzi were trying to pry names out of hotel clerks, he had a small layer of protection.

Nate whistled as they walked into the “Admiral Suite,” which occupied the top ocean-side corner of the four-story complex. “Million-dollar view. Almost as good as mine.”

“Nothing’s as good as yours. But this ain’t bad.”

Nate had bought his parents’ home from them after they’d retired to Arizona. It perched on a high bluff with a literal three-hundred-sixty-degree view.

Padric tossed his bag on the suitcase rack and sank onto one of the couches with a sigh. The suite had two bedrooms and a living area, a kitchenette and its own hot tub out on the balcony. And that view of Lost Souls Wilderness…icy white mountain peaks, deeply forested slopes with shadowed ravines, inlets glimpsed like secrets in the wild.

He wondered if he could spot the Larkspur Trail, the one he and Zoe had started to hike on that fateful day. Maybe it was just past that peak shaped like a perfect cone?

“Okay, dude.” Nate dropped into the couch perpendicular to Padric’s. “Want to tell me why you’re staring at mountains when you’re supposed to be on tour?”

“How do you know my schedule? You stalking me?”

“Don’t fan-shame me. I follow you on Facebook.” Nate’s easy grin reappeared. “I happen to like teenage whiner music.”

Padric clenched his jaw at the insult most frequently flung his way. He’d heard it enough, he ought to be used to it. “It helps people, okay?”

At least he’d thought so—until recently.

“Relax, superstar. I love your music. Like I just said. I might even follow you on i********:. Not sure because I keep forgetting my password. Anyway, the question still stands. Why aren’t you in Sweden right now?”

“I had a…voice thing. Nodes. Doctor advised a couple weeks of rest, and I couldn’t think of a more restful place than here.”

Nate stretched out his long legs and shot him a skeptical look. “It might be restful for some, but for a member of the Jeffers family? You might be better off at a Calcutta street fair.”

“Oh come on. It was so long ago, and I wasn’t even part of the Scandal. I was just caught in the crossfire.”

“True that. Hey, I’m not complaining, just so you know. I’m glad you’re here. How long do you think you’ll stay?”

“I’m not sure.”

That depended almost entirely on Zoe. If she truly wanted nothing to do with him, he wouldn’t have much reason to stay.

“Are you supposed to rest just your voice or everything?”

Padric squinted at him. “Why? What are you getting at?”

“We’re about to start a round of training for volunteer firefighters. If you’re looking for something to do while you’re here, come on by. Good crew, lots of fun, beers after every training session, and oh yeah, the occasional chance to save lives.”

“Low on recruits?” he asked dryly.

“Always. This town is just too damn small. Anyway, just thought I’d drop that thought. I need to get going, my shift’s about to start.”

“But wait…”

He didn’t want Nate to leave. Right now, Nate was a lifeline connecting him to his Lost Harbor, the real one, the one from his past, the one that didn’t have a fancy resort with double couches and a plastic bouquet on the coffee table.

But Nate had a life that included other things besides playing entourage.

“We’ll have to grab a beer sometime soon,” Padric finished.

“You know it.” Nate gave him a little salute and whisked himself out the door.

And just like that, Padric was alone. Actually alone—with no handlers or managers or publicity people or backup singers or roadies nearby.