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.

I inhale the briny and slightly sweet scent of the raw oysters—one of my favorite aromas. Nothing quite like slurping a fresh oyster between your lips.

I look around at the exposed wooden beams, low ceilings, warm lighting, and maritime decor. Seriously, I love this place.

Charlie wears a traditional white apron, and his graying hair is pulled back into a net. He wears an oyster glove and holds the oyster securely in his other hand with a white towel. With his oyster knife, he expertly breaks the seal of the oyster shell, cuts the muscle, and then pries the two halves apart. He inspects the oyster for any debris or shell remnants and then hands it to Tessa.

“For you, pretty lady.”

She blushes slightly and looks down, but then she takes the oyster and slurps it expertly into her mouth. “Delicious,” she says once she swallows. “You make that look so easy.”

“It’s not easy,” I say. “Braden and I once—”

“You told me,” Tessa says.

Right. I did. Today at lunch. So much I’d like to talk to her about, but I’m afraid something I say may inadvertently upset her.

“That’s a Wellfleet,” Charlie says to Tessa.

“From Wellfleet in Cape Cod,” Tessa says.

“Give the pretty lady a star.” Charlie smiles. “You know your oysters.”

“I’ve lived in Boston my whole life,” she says. “Do you have any Chincoteague today?”

“Not today.”

Tessa frowns. “That’s too bad. They’re my favorite.”

“I like them, too,” I tell her. “They’re so briny and minerally.”

“They are, plus they’re from Chincoteague Island, where the wild ponies live.”

“You like horses?” I ask.

“Love them.” Her dark eyes light up. “They’re such gorgeous creatures. Misty of Chincoteague was one of my favorite books when I was a kid. My nana used to read it to me.”

Her dark eyes soften when she mentions her nana.

“Your nana?”

“Yeah. My mother’s mother. I was named after her. Teresa Maria. Teresa after Saint Teresa of Avila, a Spanish mystic and writer, and Maria after…well, after the Virgin Mary.”

“You’re Catholic?” I ask.

“Was,” she says, her mouth tightening a little. “I left the church after college.”

“Teresa Maria,” I say, letting the syllables flow off my tongue as if they’re poetry. “That’s beautiful.”

“My grandmother was a beautiful woman. And a beautiful person.”

“As are you.” I smile.

Tessa looks away from me, a rosy blush on her cheeks.

“Give us a dozen of the Wellfleet,” I say to Charlie. Then I turn back to Tessa, urging her to meet my gaze. “Tell me more about your grandmother.”

Tessa smiles slightly. “She was my favorite person in the world. I suppose she felt close to me because I was her namesake. Eva—she’s my younger sister by two years—wasn’t nearly as close to her as I was. Nana was very devout. My parents were—are—too, but Nana was different. Her faith was more to her than Mass or a set of rules to follow. It was part of her.”

“How so?”

Tessa sighs. “It’s not easy to explain. You’d have to have known her. I can tell you about the altar in her bedroom, about the incense and candles she burned when she prayed to the saints, about her favorite rosary made of rose quartz. About her deep brown eyes that held so much wisdom… About how snuggling in her lap when I was small was the most comforting place in the world. But none of it would truly describe her.”

“Can you tell me why you left Catholicism?” I ask.

She turns away. “That’s personal.”

“I’m sorry.”

A glance back at me. “Are you Catholic?”

“No. We were raised Christian, but we didn’t really go to church. Only on Christmas and Easter, and that ended when my mother died.”

“I’ll never go back,” she says. “Never.”

Interesting. Her grandmother was her favorite person and was also a devout Catholic, but Tessa will never go back? There’s a story there—and I sense it’s not a good one—but I won’t pry. Instead, I grab another oyster from the bar.

Briny and delicious, the oyster slides over my tongue and down my throat.

I order a Wild Turkey, and Tessa orders sparkling water. Charlie serves our dozen oysters, and I take one, add a twist of fresh lemon, and slurp it.

Tessa takes another one and downs it like a champ. “Mmm. So good.”

“Great. You had a hamburger earlier. Now you’re eating oysters. Tell me this isn’t better than bacon and ice cream for dinner again.”

“I’m not really that hungry,” she says, her tone noncommittal.

“Then this is the perfect place for you. I don’t think anyone could actually fill up on oysters on the half shell. I’ve been known to eat them until I burst, but that’s a heck of a lot of oysters. Way more than we’ll be eating tonight.”

Charlie shucks another oyster, and his eyes widen. “Here’s a special one for your lady, Ben.” He hands the oyster to Tessa.

She gasps. “This can’t be.”

“It’s unusual, for sure,” Charlie says, “with the stuff that we get. That, my dear lady, is a pearl.”

I look inside Tessa’s oyster. Sure enough, nestled against the oyster meat is a tiny black pearl.

“I can’t accept this.” She hands the oyster back to Charlie. “You found it. This should be yours. Or your wife’s or girlfriend’s or whatever.”

He smiles with a shrug. “Don’t have a wife or girlfriend, and my mother is no longer with us. I don’t have any sisters. I was shucking it for you, young lady, so it’s yours.”

“Do you know how many times I’ve come to this place?” Ben says. “Never once has a shucker found a pearl.”

Charlie nods. “It’s rare.”

“How?” Tessa asks. “Pearls come from oysters, don’t they?”

“They’re mostly cultured now,” Charlie says. “It’s uncommon to find them in oysters raised for consumption.”

“Must be a good-luck charm,” I say.

“I don’t know about that.” Tessa fishes the pearl out of the shell and wipes it off on her napkin. “It’s such a unique shape. Kind of like a teardrop.” She wrinkles her forehead. “Not round like cultured pearls.”

Charlie laughs. “That’s how you know it’s real.”

“I guess I can assume it’s real, since I watched it come out of an oyster.”

“Absolutely, young lady.” Charlie shucks another oyster and hands it to me.

“Definitely a good-luck charm,” I say to Tessa again. “And I’ve got another piece of good luck for you.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I talked to Braden. He got rave reviews from your previous employer, and you can start work tomorrow in our accounting department.”

She frowns. “I told you I didn’t want a pity job.”

“I told you earlier and I’ll tell you again, this isn’t a pity job. Braden texted me after he talked to your old boss. She hated to let you go. We’ve got so many new deals in the works that we always need more number crunchers. We can hire you or we can hire someone else. It’s up to you.”

“Honestly, I was looking forward to some time off.”

“You’re going to get some time off this weekend. A four-day weekend in Jamaica, starting Thursday and ending Sunday.”

“I know that.”

“But before then, come into HR tomorrow morning at ten and they’ll get you set up.”

She laughs, but the tone is disbelief rather than humor. “I didn’t say I was taking the job.”

“I suppose you didn’t. It’s your choice. Show up or don’t show up. But if we don’t hire you, we’ll just hire someone else.” I slip another oyster into my mouth, enjoying the brackish saltiness.

Then I watch Tessa eat another.

For a moment, I wish I were that oyster touching her lips. She is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.

And I’ve met my share of beautiful women.

Stop thinking of her that way.

She’s likely not ready for sex, if just being around a man makes her anxious. Or a relationship, for that matter. I’m not sure I am, either, despite the fact that I’m leaving my old ways behind, hoping for something more. I love what I see between Braden and Skye, and I want it, but—

“Well…” Tessa says, interrupting my thoughts. “What kind of pay are you offering?”

Good, she’s thinking about it. “HR can tell you all the details, but I’m sure we’ll be able to meet or exceed what you were making. We make it a point to keep our salaries competitive.”

“All right. I’ll go tomorrow. And…”

“And what?”

She looks at the pearl, rolling it around in the palm of her hand. “Thank you. Again. Thank you for everything, Ben.”