50 Harbor Street - Debbie Macomber [55]
“Please join me,” Warren asked, his eyes pleading with her. “For just a few minutes.”
Reluctantly Justine sat down. After the afternoon she’d had, a few minutes’ respite would do her good. It wasn’t often that she encountered a man like David Rhodes. She felt a little guilty about calling Ben, but she couldn’t tolerate the sight of David manipulating her grandmother like that. “All right.”
“Thank you.” Warren stood and pulled out the chair opposite him. His business dealings might be shady, but his manners could never be questioned.
When the waitress came for the drink order, Warren asked for two glasses of wine.
“I can’t,” she protested, but he refused to listen.
“You look like you need to unwind.”
This was something else about Warren. He seemed, at times—like now—to discern her feelings with astounding accuracy. Granted, at other times he could be incredibly insensitive. She decided just to enjoy the moment.
The chardonnay arrived, and despite herself, Justine relaxed and took a sip. This was one of those days when a glass of wine in the middle of the afternoon was exactly what she needed.
“How are you?” Warren asked, leaning back in his chair.
“Good.”
He sighed and looked away. “I’ve missed you, Justine.”
She didn’t respond. That period of her life was over.
“Are you happy?” he asked.
“Very much so.”
He nodded and looked around. “You and Seth have done a wonderful job with this restaurant.”
“Thank you.” No one really knew how much effort went into their business. Seth often worked fifteen-hour days and she served as a hostess and managed the books. The Lighthouse demanded attention to detail—every kind of detail. Early that morning, Seth had been in the parking lot picking up litter and cigarette butts, and later he’d had to clean out the grease trap in the kitchen. Both unpleasant tasks. People tended to see the glamour but not the work that went into running a successful business. Most nights when Justine got Leif from his daycare, she was exhausted. She worried that her son was being raised by strangers. She wanted a second child. Seth did, too, but the timing, he felt, was wrong. Justine worried that the timing might never be right. Much as she loved the restaurant, it had taken over their lives.
“You’re frowning,” Warren said, breaking into her thoughts.
“I am?” She laughed, making light of it.
He leaned toward her and reached for her hand. “There’s no use pretending. I want you back.”
He seemed sincere and that touched her. “Warren, I’m married,” she said gently.
“You’re not happy.”
“I am,” she insisted. “It’s just that Seth is working so hard.” She was, too, but she didn’t mention that. “I have a good marriage, and I love my husband and son.”
Warren looked down at the open menu, but she doubted he was reading over the daily specials. “You can’t imagine how difficult it is to live in the same town and see you practically every day. It’s tearing me apart. We had something special and I haven’t found it with anyone else.”
She hadn’t kept tabs on his relationships, but it seemed to her that Warren had gone through a number of women in the last few years. The young ones didn’t last long, she noticed.
“It’s too late.”
“Is it?” he pressed. “I refuse to believe that, Justine.”
“Warren…”
He looked up and over her shoulder. His eyes narrowed as Seth approached the table.
“Seth,” Justine said, flustered that he’d found her with an old boyfriend. “Warren invited me to sit down for a few minutes.”
Her husband glanced at the two glasses of wine. He offered Warren a casual smile. “How are you, Warren?”
“Lonely,” he said, his gaze locking with Justine’s. She swallowed uncomfortably.
Seth placed a possessive hand on Justine’s shoulder. “Has Susan taken your order yet?”
“No.”
“I recommend the oyster stew. It’s the