String Beans (The Girls of Beachmont #2) (3 page)

“L.A.?”

“Why not? I have
some money saved up… Granted I’ll need more, but I can get a job out there just
as good as the one I have here.”

The problem with
that argument was that I was a college-educated woman who did not use said
education. It was hard to come by enough money to make ends meet in a small
town like Spring Park, and I wasn’t sure I’d survive in someplace like L.A. But
at least I had a little time to figure it out.

“When you’re ready,
I’ll move,” she offered, even though she was all the way in Wyoming.

“I love you for
worrying about me, Jolie. But I’ll be fine,” I stated confidently, somehow
managing a small smile.

“I know you will,”
she said before silence took over for a moment. “You know I love you. I do. And
I am one hundred percent on your side here…”

“But?”

“But I can’t help
but hope you’re wrong or this is all just a bad dream, because I love Will.
What you two have together is what I want someday,” she said sadly.

“I want better. I deserve
better. And so do you,” I said to myself as much as I was saying it to her.

Now just repeat over and over until you finally believe it
, I told myself for the rest of the night.

***

The alarm on my
side of the bed chirped its familiar tune, waking me up from a nightmare. I
rolled over onto my side and extended my hand to touch Will’s back, but all I
felt were cold sheets. Slowly, I sat up and rubbed my eyes as reality began to
sink in.

“Damn it,” I
muttered.

The bedroom was in
complete disarray and a throbbing sensation began making its way into my head. I
stumbled to my feet, grabbed the shorts I wore the night before, and pulled
them on. I needed to get moving if I wanted to get out of the apartment and find
a place to stay for a while.

I walked into the
bathroom feeling lightheaded and splashed water on my face. I still hadn’t
talked to Will, but I knew it was inevitable. There were things that needed to
be said and plans that needed to be made. Jolie thought I was rushing things by
deciding to move away, but sticking around didn’t sound great either. I knew if
I even entertained the idea of working it out, it would happen again and I’d be
kicking myself for waiting.

My bags were piled
in the middle of the small living room space and there was very little left for
me to do. I walked to the door and opened it to find Will asleep in the rickety
chair we’d bought for ten bucks the summer before. He jolted upright at the
sound of the door and almost fell over as he scrambled to his feet. I turned my
back, but left the door open so he could follow me in.

There was a small
section on the ugly aqua couch that we found at a consignment store that wasn’t
taken up by my things, so I sat there, keeping my distance from him. I hadn’t
been able to look at him since the previous night, but when I finally did, he
was frozen in place, taking in the sight around him.

I watched in
silence as he looked from the mess to me, his brows pinched together. He
somehow looked older than his age of twenty-four, but I knew it was from lack
of sleep.

“You’re not
leaving,” he stated, but I knew it was a question. He walked over, kneeling in
front of me like he did the night before, and buried his head in my lap. “I’m
sorry, baby,” he said, his breath hot against my legs.

I fought the urge
to run my fingers through his hair in an effort to console him and it almost
made me laugh.
He
was the one who
screwed up, not me, and I was worried about him?

“I’ll make this
right, I swear it,” Will said when I didn’t respond. “Just give a me chance.”

I closed my eyes
and took a breath as I tried to fight off another wave of tears. It was easy to
hate Will when I didn’t have to look at him. But at that moment, my heart broke
all over again because I knew he wanted to fix it.

I finally cleared
my throat and my voice sounded scratchy as the broken words came out. “I love
you, Will. You know that. I think I’ve loved you too much, ignored too much.”

He lifted his head
and was still kneeling in front of me, his eyes pleading for my forgiveness.
Timidly, he took my face in his hands and waited for me to look at him. “I.
Love. You, Viola. No one else,” he said, his voice cracking.

I reached up and
pried his fingers away and moved past him, needing the space for my own sanity.
“Not enough.” I turned to look down at him and crossed my arms over my chest,
squeezing my own arms for strength. “If you loved me, there would have never
been a need for you to have someone else, let alone in our bed. I almost think
you wanted to be caught.”

“So that’s it?
You’re just going to walk away, give up on me—on us?” he asked, his voice
growing defensive.

“
You
gave up on us, Will. The moment you
started screwing other women,
you
ended this. And the only reason I’m here now is to say goodbye.” My voice was
cold and broken, just like my heart had become. “I’ve been so consumed with you
and your dreams that somehow, I forgot my own. So maybe I need to thank you for
screwing around, because I’m going to spend some time working on me.”

I didn’t wait for
him to say anything; there was nothing else to say. I started grabbing my bags,
taking them out to my car one by one, while Will watched. It was as if he was
waiting for me to tell him it was a joke, his eyes studying every movement I
made.

He stood immobile
until the last bag was in the middle of the room. I walked into our bedroom and
grabbed a picture of us from my side of the bed. We were sitting at an outdoor
concert, staring at each other, clearly in love. I wondered what happened to
that couple. Would they have gotten together if they knew how it would end?

Looking at the past
made my heart ache more, so I set it down and walked back and picked up the
last bag. I was almost out the door when I turned to give my life one last
look. Will was standing in the center of the room like a lost puppy dog, and I as
much as I wanted to save him, I couldn’t. I filed everything to memory and gave
the bag a small nudge to hoist it onto my shoulder.

“I hope you find
whatever it is you need, Will,” I told him and walked out the door before he
could stop me. “Because it’s clear that it’s not me.”

Five Months Later—March,
L.A.

I didn’t file for
divorce. I didn’t even look into it because I knew it would be expensive.
Instead, I worked and saved money until I was able to get out of town. The few
times I did manage to go out with a friend, I used the word
married
like it was shield to protect me
from jerks. I no longer wore my wedding band, but I did buy a cheap imitation
to slip on when I needed a barrier.

Someday I’d have to
let go and stop hiding behind the title of wife, because I was no longer one.
But until I filed papers and shed all traces of Will, I was married—something
that both calmed and angered me, depending on my mood.

“How’s it going out
there?” Jolie asked in her overly excited tone.

After catching Will cheating, I wanted to run away and never look
back. But there was the small matter of money that kept me in place. I knew at
some point I’d leave and start over, but when or where the new beginning would
happen was up in the air.

Then one night, I started thinking about what I used to want…before
Will. I’d always dreamed of writing music, of hearing others sing my words. I
knew it was a long shot, but if I wanted that dream to become a reality, I
needed to move to Los Angeles and pay my dues like every other struggling
artist.

Packing up what little I had was easy. The “starting over” part, not
so much.

“It’s okay,” I
answered. “I mean, it’s not home, but it’ll do for now considering that I don’t
know where
home
is anymore.”

“Stop being so
dramatic,” Jolie said. “Have you found a job yet?”

“Can you cut me a
little slack? I just got here a week ago,” I said defensively before
continuing. “I went to a temp agency and took a bunch of tests and shit. Guess
what I’m qualified to do with a music degree and business minor that I never
used?”

“Be CEO of a
Fortune 500 company?” she answered with a laugh.

“Well, there’s
always that, but I’ll have to be an administrative assistant first.”

“So any hits yet?”

“Nothing. But I’ll
let you know when I make my first million,” I deadpanned.

“How long can you
go without a job?”

“I have enough in
savings to last another couple of weeks before I end up on the streets,” I
joked.

In reality, for the
five months after Cheatergate I continued working at the music store, and
tended bar across town, saving all my tips. I had enough to survive a month,
though my parents offered to float me for a while. I appreciated the gesture,
but I was determined to do it on my own. I knew something was around the
corner—or at least that’s what I kept telling myself.

“Any plans today?”
she asked, effectively changing the subject.

“I’ve barely left
this place and haven’t met anyone, so I think the answer is no,” I answered,
adding a sigh for emphasis. “But…I think I’ve got everything situated, so I’ll
probably just veg out and read or something.”

She was quiet for a
moment, and when Jolie was quiet, that meant she was thinking. Before I could
say anything else, she spoke up. “Vi, have you written anything lately?”

I smiled because my
best friend always encouraged my songwriting, but I’d lost my mojo. Everything
that had happened with Will made it difficult.

“Honestly, finding
your husband with someone else and moving out tends to stifle a gal’s
creativity.”

“You can’t let him
have that,” she scolded in her sweetest voice.

“I have other
concerns at the moment, but I’ll get it back. I promise.”

It was a promise I
intended on keeping.

“I want to come
visit you, but I need to get some time off,” she said, upbeat. “What are you
doing next month?”

I pretended that I
was looking at my calendar that we both knew to be empty. My social life was
nonexistent.

“Wow, Jolie, I’m
crazy busy. I mean, with the sleeping, reading, binge-watching
The Walking Dead
, but I’ll see if I can
pencil you in,” I laughed.

“Okay, you do that,
smartass. In the meantime, let me check with my boss about getting some time
off. I doubt it will be a problem.”

“I can’t wait,” I
almost squealed.

“But here’s the
thing.” She paused and I waited. “I need you to find someplace good for us to
go out, because I refuse to stay holed up in your new apartment and do all
those things you just mentioned. So, since you’re not doing anything today, I’m
tasking you with finding a new hangout.”

“Jolie, I’m tired.
I just want to read my book and do nothing.” My tone left no room for argument,
but I knew she wouldn’t let me have the last word.

“Perfect, I’m
looking at a map and there’s a coffeehouse down the street from you. String
Beans. So go there and do nothing, read your book—whatever floats your
boat.”

Damn
.

I tried to think of
a good enough reason
not
to go, but
the reasons mostly consisted of
I don’t
feel like it
.

“Yeah, we’ll see,”
I finally answered.

“Good. Call me
later and tell me about it. Okay?”

“You know better
than to be optimistic,” I reminded her.

“What can I say? Love
you, Vi.”

“Love you, too.
Talk soon.”

I flopped onto the
old brown couch that I’d found at a consignment store the day before. One would
describe it as worn, but I’d also made it a point not to stare too hard. It hadn’t
been easy finding someone to help me get it to the third floor, but Bethany,
the gray-haired landlord who ran the store on the first floor, took pity on me.
She talked her nephew and his friend into carrying it upstairs for me. I waited
until they left before dousing it with germ killers and air fresheners.

As I was resting on
the couch, I took in my new
home
and
wished I weren’t there.

The paint was
supposed to be an eggshell, though it almost looked gray. The blinds were bent
and some broken, unable to do the job for which they were intended. The
hardwood floors were dingy and old, something I assumed most people would like.
I had a crazy urge to steam them or something because the place had probably
seen better days.

I’d put some
trinkets on the windowsills and hung a picture of Jo, Dani, and Millie in my
room, but the place still didn’t feel like a home.

The apartment was
shabbier than the one I’d shared with Will, but at least it was mine. After I
left Will, I spent time sleeping in the guest bedroom at Alex’s place for a
couple of months before bouncing to another friend’s place. I was determined to
get out of town, so I refused to rent a place. There was only the matter of
loose ends I needed to tie up before leaving.

I closed my eyes
and smiled, telling myself that good things were around the corner. But when I
opened them, I knew I’d have to remind myself of those words—daily.

Jolie’s demand
continued to enter my thoughts and I debated checking out the coffee shop. I had
seen it the day I arrived in L.A. It was close to my new apartment, and Bethany
said that people seemed to really enjoy it. When I’d passed by the day before,
I noticed that they had a weekly open
mic
night,
which caught my interest. I was nowhere near ready to perform for people, but
having the option to do so was a good start.

“C’mon, Vi,” I
coaxed myself, “you can do this.”

I rolled my eyes,
and stood up as I grabbed my book when I conceded that I had nothing better to
do. Besides, if I wanted to prove myself right, I needed to take care of me,
and getting out of that apartment was a good start.

***

Wandering the
streets of my new neighborhood alone was not high on my list of adventures that
I was ready to tackle. Had Jolie not insisted, I would have been sitting
comfortably on the couch upstairs, doing my best to ignore the odor of dog fur
left by the previous tenant.

Taking the stairs
out of my building, I did my best to be optimistic about the new life I was
leading. But as the door shut behind me, I froze in place. The sidewalks were
covered with pedestrian traffic and bikes as they whizzed past. I dodged a
couple that was so engrossed in their conversation that they almost knocked me
over.

As I walked down
the streets, I was awestruck. There was no rhyme or reason as to why some
older, ornate buildings were next to dilapidated, hideous structures that had
to have been spawned in the seventies. If I had unlimited funds, I’d want to
rid the world of buildings like those so the true beauties would shine.

I felt lost in my
own world as I continued to walk, until the distinct smell of coffee stopped me
in my tracks. I looked around and instantly spotted a small wooden sign that
dangled from a bar above the door.

String Beans.

The brick façade
was worn, but the three large windows that rested within the bricks’ embrace
were inviting. Through the glass, I noticed several people reading books or
studying, while others carried on a conversation.

A small bell rang,
announcing my arrival, but no one looked too interested in me, not looking up
at all. The aroma of coffee filled my senses and I closed my eyes, allowing it
to become a part of me. Slowly I opened them so I could peruse the menu that
hung low behind the counter. There were almost too many options. Hot coffee.
Iced coffee. Sweet tea. Flavored tea. Infused tea. The list went on.

“What can I get
you?” a low voice asked, capturing my attention.

I glanced toward
the man standing off to the side and the adorable smile that happened to be
attached to an equally adorable man. His dark hair was hidden beneath a company
baseball cap, but that just allowed his striking hazel eyes to be seen. A small
dimple on his right cheek gave him an almost boyish look, but the muscles in
his arms countered that.

He wasn’t staring
at me, or flirting, he was doing his job—or maybe he was flirting? I
looked at his nametag and returned his smile.

“Well, Wyatt, what’s
good here?” The words tumbled from my lips and sounded way more flirtatious
than I intended.

He cocked his head
to the side, his smile still in place. “Me.”

Yep. That happened.

There was a strange
stirring in my stomach at his words and I found myself fighting saying
something equally playful and sexy. I didn’t know what it was about this
particular guy and the single word he spoke that had me wanting him to say
something else to make the flutters happen again, but I did.

Being around the
bar with Will, I was used to the attention I got from men but I always ignored
it because I was married. The difference this time? My marriage was over and
there was nothing to keep me from playing along. Well, nothing but my own
insecurity and complete distrust of men.

“Next time I’m in
the mood for sexy with a side of arrogance, you’ll be the first to know.” I
smiled sweetly.

He stood upright
and a laugh escaped his lips.

“Sexy, huh? I’ll
take it. So, what can I get for you?” he asked, still laughing a little.

Shit. I did say sexy!

I was tempted to
turn and flee the store, but I knew Jolie was right. I needed to get out there,
live a little, and if that included some harmless flirting from an attractive
man, so be it.

“I’ll have a nonfat
vanilla latte with whipped cream,” I said past the lump in my throat as I
forced a smile.

“You want whipped
cream,” he repeated, his voice questioning the request. “Nonfat latte
and
whipped cream?”

“Yes,” I snorted.
He wasn’t the first person to point out my inconsistent order. Will used to
make fun of me all the time.

“Would you like
anything to eat?” he asked. I looked at him and his playful smirk, trying to
remember that I needed to change my attitude.

“And that,” I
pointed to the lonely lemon torte that remained. “Please.”

“That will be seven
fifty. Can I get your name?”

My head was low as
I rifled through my purse for the money. “Viola.”

“Okay, Viola, I’ll
bring your order out when it’s ready,” he said as I handed him my money.

I dropped the
change into the tip cup and started to leave but turned to ask, “Then why did
you ask my name?”

He shrugged and
walked off to prepare the order. “Just wanted to know.”

And we have butterflies again. Damn hormones!

“You could have
just asked,” I said, feeling something that felt a lot like giddiness bubbling
inside of me. “I would have told you.”

“I thought that’s
what I did,” he said, raising a brow.