Moon Shell Beach: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Lexi,” she said, “
you’re
getting him.”

    Ed Hardin was
handsome for a man nearing forty. He was almost bald, but his eyebrows were black and bushy over a raptor’s piercing dark eyes. When he looked at Lexi, his gaze was like a judgment. Then he smiled at her.
    “Well,
hello,
” he said.
             

    Over the summer,
he dined at La Maison at least once a week, sometimes with men, sometimes with lovely young women. He always flirted with Lexi, who beamed back appreciatively—he left fabulous tips. He requested Lexi’s table every time he came, and when he was with a man, he leaned back in his chair and asked Lexi about herself. It would have been rude not to respond, and she secretly enjoyed having the attention of this powerful man. She knew she looked good—finally she accepted how her long legs and slim torso, which had earned her the name of “Stork” in school, had become assets. She wore a white button-down shirt and a short black skirt to work. Her blond hair was almost white from the sun. She wore it simply tied back with a black ribbon, a long tail hanging down her back, swinging as she walked.
    One evening, he asked, “Do you work every night?”
    Cool,
she thought, he wants to come here only when I can be his waitress. “Not Mondays and Tuesdays.”
    “Great. Let me take you out to dinner on Monday.”
    “Oh.” Lexi was so surprised, she almost dropped the bread basket. Flustered, she stuttered, “Oh…I, uh, I can’t. Sorry.” And she hurried away.
    That night, she casually told her parents that Ed Hardin had asked her out.
    Her father snorted. “I hope you said no!”
    Her mother patted her hand gently. “Lexi, he’s much too old for you, honey. A man like him, well, he would only take advantage of a small-town girl like you.”
    Lexi knew her mother only meant to be helpful, but her words cut deep. And by morning, she found something in her rebelling. Did her parents think she was
stupid
? That she’d be so grateful to be asked out by a wealthy man that she’d do anything he asked? And yet her mother was right. Her life and Ed Hardin’s were worlds apart.
             

    A week later,
Ed dined at La Maison again. Again, Lexi was his waitress. When she placed the leather folder holding the tab on his table, he put his hand on it, near her hand. “Lexi, I’d really like to take you out to dinner. Any evening you’re free.”
    Lexi pulled back her hand. “I don’t know what to say.”
    “You have Monday off?” He really did have a nice smile.
    She was aware of the eyes of the other staff and diners on her. She capitulated. “All right. Monday.” As they made arrangements, she knew she was flushing. She felt like a heroine accepting a challenge from a fascinating enemy.
             

    He took her
to the Chanticleer, the best restaurant on the island, and the most expensive. He ordered fabulous wine and amazing food. He was sophisticated, imposing, witty, and well-traveled. But he also seemed genuinely interested in her. When he discovered that she loved art, he drew her out, asking her which painter she liked best, which style, what painting she’d buy if she could buy anything in the world. He asked whether she’d been to the Clark Museum in Williamstown. He asked if he could take her there sometime.
    When he drove her home, he said he wanted to come in. She grinned, finally having a little power of her own, and told him, “I live here with my parents.” She slipped out of his Mercedes before he could kiss her.
    In her room that night, she paced the floor, trying to work off the energy of her conflicting emotions. She was not sexually attracted to Ed Hardin. He was almost twenty years older than she, and even a little shorter, and portly. But she was attracted to
who she became
when she was with him. He hadn’t laughed at her opinions about art, even though she hardly knew enough to have an opinion. He’d made her seem interesting, even