Читать книгу Love In Logan Beach - Shirley Hailstock, Shirley Hailstock - Страница 9

Chapter 1

David Thorn stood on the seawall in Logan Beach, New Jersey, his arms stretched out. The salty wind blew against his face and the open neck of his white shirt. The Atlantic Ocean stretched from here to the Scottish shores and beyond. Overhead, gulls cawed and swooped to the water in search of today’s lunch. David thought about his family vacations in this very spot. And now he would be here daily, working and making the House of Thorn’s new Logan Beach store the best he could.

“You’re going to work here?” his brother, Blake, shouted with envy over the roar of the waves. “I’d be at the beach every day.”

David checked the sky, lowering his arms. It was blue and cloudless, and reminded him of his carefree days as a barefoot boy running through the sand along this beach. David gave his brother a quizzical look. “When you reported the finances, how would you explain your actions to the board?” The board being the family, since Thorn’s had always been a family-run business. Their mother started it by selling cakes and pastries out of the family kitchen when her children were barely out of diapers.

Blake looked at the beach. “There is that,” he said with a degree of regret in his voice. “I remember some fun days on this beach.”

David laughed. “More likely it’s the nights you remember. And a certain busty teenager named—”

“Stop.” Blake put up his hand. “Let’s stay in the present.”

Turning around, the two brothers looked at the town. A huge house, now a school, sat in front of them. It had stood there as long as David could remember. Since their vacations here were in the summer, the school was always closed. David wondered what the view was like from the upper floors. Thorn’s department store was nowhere near this house, but it too would have a view from the top of the building.

Two floors of the House of Thorn Logan Beach were dedicated to administrative offices and would have full 360-degree views. David believed that sunlight not only fostered production, but also contributed to better attitudes. His law office in Manhattan had huge windows.

The lower floors of the store were dedicated to merchandise.

“Have you reached her yet?” Blake asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“Not yet,” he said, shaking his head. He didn’t need to ask whom Blake referred to. David had been trying to reach Rosanna Turner for a week, but to no avail.

“I’d forget about her. There have to be other people with experience who can fill her spot.”

“I promised the Bachs,” David insisted.

“You called her how many times? Twelve? Thirteen? And she doesn’t answer, doesn’t return your calls. She’s probably moved or taken another job. It’s not up to you to send out the dogs.”

“I’m not calling her again,” David said.

Blake smiled. “I knew you’d see reason. That lawyer mind of yours knows when a case is lost.”

David didn’t reply. And his case wasn’t lost. Not yet, David thought to himself, but he wasn’t going to debate it with Blake. Promises meant something to David. He’d try one more time, but not by phone. Rosanna Turner had to be somewhere and he’d find her.

They started walking in the direction of the store. It was a couple of miles from the ocean. He could walk it on a good day. Thorn’s wouldn’t open for at least three more months. The exterior was complete, but the inside needed building, furnishing and stocking. David had relocated from New York City to Logan Beach and secured temporary office space next to the store. He’d toured the construction of Thorn’s and spent one day at the shore. He didn’t think he’d get many days to spend walking on the sand. Without a boardwalk, Logan Beach still had crowds of sun worshippers dotting the area. While Blake loved the ocean, when David swam, he preferred a pool to the salty sea.

“When do you leave?” David asked his brother when the two reached David’s car.

“Next week. I have to go back to New York tonight. My meetings with Dad and Mom take place in the next three days.”

When their parents told the family they were planning to retire, David jumped at the chance to take over the conversion of the Logan Beach property. Blake was headed for San Francisco.

David nodded. He remembered the last-minute instructions from his parents before he left for the shore property. Blake’s conversation would be different since the San Francisco store was fully operational.

The Logan Beach store needed extensive renovation. And David’s first order of business was to find Rosanna Turner and see why she wasn’t living up to the person the Bachs had gushed about.

* * *

As the sun sat high in the afternoon sky, David parked at the curb and stepped out of his BMW i8. The bluish gray vehicle was incongruously lavish in front of an apartment building whose glory days had probably been before he was born. Punching the lock button on the key fob, he strode around the hood and checked the building’s address on his cell phone.

He was in the right place. The structure’s door was ajar and unlocked. Three young boys careened out of the opening, laughing in youthful exuberance, and ran toward the main road. David entered. The hall was dark, lit by a single bald bulb that couldn’t expend enough light to clear the shadows.

There was no elevator, but a staircase, nearly devoid of paint, led to second and third floors. Rosanna lived in apartment eleven, undoubtedly on the top. Her door had obviously been replaced with a salvaged one. It was a murky yellow against walls that were dark and in need of refinishing.

David knocked.

“Who is it?” someone called.

“David Thorn,” he replied, his voice seeming to boom in the empty space.

David thought he heard a sharp intake of breath. A few moments went by before he heard the rhythmic click of several locks being opened.

The door was widened by a few inches and a woman cautiously poked her head through the narrow space, her arms grasping the door in readiness to slam it shut.

“What do you want?” she asked. Her hair was pulled back severely, and she had high cheekbones that showed the hollows of her face. Wearing no makeup, she had the most incredible eyes he’d ever seen—large, brown and watery. He wished she’d smile. He’d like to see how her eyes changed when she did. Her dress was faded and too large, as if she’d recently lost a lot of weight.

“You are Rosanna Turner, right?”

She nodded.

“I’d like to talk to you about Bach’s.”

“Don’t you mean Thorn’s?” she asked flatly.

He waited a second before nodding. “I suppose I do.”

“Not interested.”

She pulled her face back and moved to close the small rectangular opening. David stuck his foot in the door to stop her. It was the first time in his life he could remember doing something so impulsive.

“At least give me a moment to explain why I’ve been trying to reach you. You haven’t answered any of my calls and I’ve come this far.”

Her expressive eyes raked him up and down for a full ten seconds, before she stepped back and allowed him into the apartment. The inside wasn’t much better than the outside. It was lit better, due to the large set of windows. The furniture was old, past the comfortable stage, but not as bad as the front door.

“Would you like something to drink—coffee, tea, water?”

He heard no reluctance in her voice and took that as a good sign.

“Coffee would be fine if it’s already made.”

She didn’t say anything, only turned and walked to the small kitchen. The distance couldn’t be more than three or four steps from where he stood. David waited, looking through the window. Across the street was an empty lot. The grass was overgrown and several rusted-out garbage cans were strewn throughout the place.

She returned with two mugs. “Cream and sugar?” she asked.

“Black,” David told her, turning away from the window. After the light from outside, the room seemed darker. He took the mug and sipped the coffee. It was good.

Rosanna sat down on the out-of-date sofa and David took the seat across from her in a single armchair.

“You’re aware that Thorn’s has bought the Bachs’ store,” he said, stating the obvious, but he needed a way to break the ice. She was cold and his words didn’t appear to chip even a sliver of the ice away.

“I’m here to see to the building of the new store and I believe it can be a centerpiece in Logan Beach.”

Rosanna looked steadily at him, but she didn’t say a word. Both her hands held the coffee cup, yet she did not raise it to her mouth. He wondered what she was thinking. Her quietness unnerved him. David had stood before judges with the worst reputations. He’d stared down criminals and bullies. Yet this underweight woman was making him sweat with her mute stare.

“You were the assistant manager at Bach’s.”

After a moment she finally said, “It was my last position. I started there as an assistant buyer.”

“The Bachs spoke highly of you and your abilities.”

Her mouth moved slightly. It was the shadow of the beginning of a smile. Then her expression quickly returned to its original blank stare.

“Are you having a bad day?” David suddenly asked.

The question seemed to get her attention and knock her off center. She set the cup on the table between them.

“No better, no worse than any other day.” Her tone was sour.

“Are you working? I mean do you have another job since Bach’s?” He didn’t think so. It was the middle of the workday and she was home. Her hair and lack of makeup told him she’d been home all day. She might work from home, of course, but there was no evidence of it in the rooms he could see, and that was most of the apartment.

“Yes,” she answered coldly. “I work nights.”

She offered nothing more. That told him that whatever she was doing, it was below her abilities.

David smiled, hoping she’d see that he was about to offer her something better. He couldn’t tell by her expression.

“Do you like your job? Is it satisfying?”

She gazed at him for a moment. “It pays the bills.”

She didn’t answer his question, but what she said revealed more than an answer would have.

“I’d like you to come back.”

“Back to what?”

“To Thorn’s.”

“I’m not interested in working at Thorn’s. The Bachs have sold out. The store is gone. They’ve moved on, so will I.”

David put down his cup and clasped his hands together. He stood up and looked around, then brought his gaze back to her.

“Is that what you’re doing?” His voice was stronger, back in his lawyer-addressing-a-witness mode. “It sure doesn’t seem so.”

The comment brought her out of her seat.

“What do you know about it?” she challenged, her eyes bright and angry.

“Not much,” he said. “But I know the person the Bachs talked about, a woman who is competent and efficient, is not the one standing here.”

“Get out,” she ordered.

His comment angered her. He’d designed it that way. David needed to pull her out of this depression, which seemed to have not only settled on her, but also on every aspect of this room.

“You know nothing about me, nothing about anything. You should try to find out something about the people here before you go blundering into their lives. It hasn’t been easy down here since the storm and all the lives that were lost. So why don’t you take yourself and your car back to New York and leave us alone.”

She’d seen him drive up, he thought. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have mentioned the car. David caught the underlying message in her comment. He understood that what his car cost could probably pay for this apartment several times over. He wondered if she had enough food to eat, and it caught him like a blow to his gut. He picked up the coffee cup and drank, unwilling to waste a drop in case she couldn’t afford more.

“The storm was like a war,” she said. “It changed people. They are no longer the ones they were before it happened.”

David should be angry with her attitude, but he admired her spirit. She really felt for the people of Logan Beach and how they were treated.

“I may not know that, and I can’t fix everyone who was affected, but there is one person I can help. I can only do one at a time and today it’s you.” He stopped, letting his words sink in. “I need you to come back and be the assistant manager at Thorn’s.”

He was careful to choose his words and to let her know this was his store, not a replica of the one she’d left.

“This offer is open for the next twenty-four hours. If you want to stop wallowing in self-pity and return to meaningful employment, my offices are in the building next to the store. Third floor.”

He drained his cup and put it down. Then he took a slip of paper with the office address and a business card from his pocket and dropped them on the coffee table.

“I truly hope to see you.” He’d lowered his voice to one of concern mixed with sincerity.

Outside her door, David dragged a breath into his lungs. He gripped the stair railing and held it tight enough to splinter the wood. His body was so solidly coiled, he felt only a long run or a hundred laps in a pool would relieve the tension. Rosanna Turner had touched something inside him that roared and he didn’t like it. He’d never been in a place so devoid of life, watched a person move through air and not disturb it. David had seen soldiers who were shell-shocked, and Rosanna reminded him of them. He wanted to somehow restore her, force her out of the pattern she’d set and let her know there was a future. This feeling of protection was foreign to him, something he’d never experienced before.

Yet, he’d found the spark of life in her when she accused him of not understanding what had happened to her and the people of Logan Beach. He hadn’t been here, had never been in a place where nature had destroyed life and property. He was usually the well-dressed attorney in court, seeking damage restoration for wealthy victims. When working his pro bono cases, which gave him personal satisfaction, they were usually related to personal injury by clients who were financially unable to afford his corporate fees.

David felt bad for treating Rosanna unkindly. His parents didn’t rear him that way, but Rosanna needed to be kick-started. It was obvious she’d been pitying herself for a long time and someone needed to let her know that things would not change if she didn’t change them.

David hoped that change would begin before the sun rose the next day. He felt Rosanna Turner was more than a depressed woman in a dingy apartment. She only showed a small amount of spark, but David felt it was there and all he needed to do was wait. She would come out of that shell and decide to rejoin the living.

Twenty-four hours would tell him if his theory was true or false.

* * *

Rose moved to the window. Sunlight highlighted David’s dark hair as he stepped out of the building. He stood a moment, looking first left, then right. She did the same. There wasn’t much to see. Several apartment buildings, none of them in great condition, were separated by either demolished buildings or cleared, but overgrown, lots.

The storm had happened two years ago, yet the devastation was still evident. Rose knew about it firsthand.

David moved, catching her attention. He went around his car, shrugged out of his suit jacket, folded it carefully and placed it in the back seat of the luxury car. He opened the driver’s door, then looked up. Their eyes connected and Rose jumped back as if she’d been burned.

A moment later, she heard the car door close. The engine purred to life and when she glanced down again, the car accelerated away. Letting out a long, slow breath, she turned away from the windows.

The business card he’d left lay on the table, a small white beacon in a sea of dark wood. She lifted it between two fingers. It bore his New York office address. His cell-phone number had a red circle around it, a signal that he was reachable at any time.

Rose dropped it next to the slip of paper with an address she recognized. It was the building next to the store. While working at Bach’s, she’d been in and out of it thousands of times.

Twenty-four hours he’d given her. What would the Bachs think? Should she return? She felt disloyal, even though she knew it was irrational. The final meeting the Bachs held with their employees told them the sale meant Thorn’s would keep as many of them as possible. Rose didn’t expect to be one of them. She was management and experience told her that new management meant out with the old.

She was the old.

Go back... She heard the words in her head. Go work for the people who had capitalized on someone else’s misfortune? It was unconscionable. Rose turned around in a full circle. Every inch of her small apartment could be seen from any place she stood. She’d once been part of the mighty and her fall had been long and hard. David Thorn was offering her a chance to restore some of her former life—if that was possible.

For a moment, the crisis she’d withstood for three days came back to her. She pushed it away, refusing to allow the thoughts to blossom in her mind.

She needed something more challenging than working nights as a cage cashier in a local casino. But Thorn’s!

Could she really go back there, back to the place she’d called home for so many years—a place that was only a shell of what it used to be?

* * *

The Jersey coastline stretched for a hundred and thirty miles, from the arm of New York to the tip of Cape May. Logan Beach comprised only twenty of those miles, including five miles of natural preserve.

Rose walked along the water’s edge. Holding her loose skirt above her knees, she played footsie with the soft lapping of water.

“Rose.” Amber Waverly sang her name and waved as she headed for her. Amber was her best friend. They’d met two years ago under dire circumstances. Together they had saved each other’s lives.

Rose waved back and waited for Amber to reach her. Carrying their shoes, Rose and Amber walked slowly. The water was cold, but refreshing.

“Glad to see you out of that apartment. What got you out?” Amber asked.

“David Thorn,” she said, emphasizing his name.

“Of the House of Thorn,” Amber stated.

“None other.” She glanced at her friend.

“How did this happen?”

Rose heard the admiration in her friend’s voice. It irritated her, but Amber never worked at Bach’s, so her allegiance lacked.

“He came by my apartment about an hour ago and offered me a job.”

Amber hooted. “That’s wonderful. You are going to accept it.” She stated it as fact without even asking what position he’d offered her. “That night job you have is going nowhere and you know it. You want a future, someplace where you can use your experience and leave your mark.”

Amber was a positive person. She had gotten Rose through the storm and she continued to try and push her to return to the retail business.

“I’m having a hard time with it. It’s Bach’s. The store will have a new name and a new look. Every time I go through the doors, I’ll be reminded of how my life changed.”

Amber jumped in front of her, took her shoulders and shook her. “Rosanna Turner, what is our motto?”

“Survive, don’t let the bad guys win.”

“Right.”

“The Thorns are the bad guys,” Rose said, shaking herself loose and continuing to walk.

“You don’t know that,” Amber responded. “And even if they are, wouldn’t it be better to fight the battle from the inside than trying to overcome it from a distance?”

“I’m not sure. I was so looking forward to taking over the store when the Bachs retired. Now I’m relegated back to following orders from a family group with little connection to Logan Beach.”

“What did he offer you?”

“Assistant manager.”

“That’s what you were before. Look at it as an opportunity,” Amber said.

“How?”

“Since this is a new store, you can guide it to the place you want it to be. I’m sure David Thorn isn’t unreasonable.”

“He’s a lawyer.”

“Lawyer?” Amber repeated.

“I looked him up on the internet. He’s a corporate attorney.”

“That’s perfect.” Amber’s arm went up to the sky in salute. “If he’s into the law and not the retail end of the business, you’re sitting in the right seat to get done what you want.”

Rose hadn’t looked at it like that. Leave it to Amber to see the big picture. Rose disliked her current job. It provided her with a means to eat and pay rent, but did nothing for her ego. She loved retail. David Thorn had offered her an opportunity to return and thoughts of getting back into retail would solve a lot of her problems, but could she let that happen? It was up to her to decide if she wanted to take the leap and turn her life toward a beginning point again, or do something else.

One thing David Thorn’s visit forced her to see was that she had to make a move. Her decision had to be whether she’d make it with the House of Thorn or somewhere else.