The Shell Collector - Nancy Naigle Page 0,25

had most definitely come out with a tinge of judgment she’d meant to contain.

The woman rolled her eyes. “Something about someone showing up and treasures. That’s not the point.”

It’s exactly the point. Maeve’s heart picked up its pace. Caffeine or concern, she wasn’t quite sure. She’d known Kimmy since she was a tyke learning how to skimboard out in front of the beach house. Such a tomboy, but she’d turned into a beautiful young woman and now a mother.

Maeve looked over to Tug. “Did you hear that? We should probably stop by and check in on her.”

“We should.” Tug flipped an anemic-looking omelet into the air.

“Do you really think those shells just show up? Like out of nowhere?” The woman’s arched brow and sassy tone made it clear she didn’t.

Maeve pondered how to answer such a question. “Sometimes you have to trust things for what they are.” She looked the woman square in the eye, daring her to make another brash remark. “Just believe.”

With that, Maeve strode out of the diner, her belly full, her heart full. And as she walked by the big parrot cage, The Wife said, “You better believe it.”

“Oh, I do.” Maeve nodded, and The Wife did too.

“Bye-bye.”

Maeve stopped at the top of the steps and took off her sandals.

A little sand between the toes stomps out the woes.

That uptight woman back there needed to kick off her shoes and take a long walk on the beach.

8

Paul and his newest employee, Chase, walked into Tug’s Diner. The beautiful environment that Paws Town Square was becoming known for was all credit to Chase. He knew his stuff about landscaping, and he’d been an incredible asset to the quick start-up on this second Paws Town Square location. Former army, Chase had a hard time adjusting to civilian life, but he’d found his niche. Now they were working on three more sites together.

“Two specials, Tug,” Paul said as they grabbed two seats at the counter.

“Good morning, Paul.” Tug waved from across the way. “You got it.”

“And coffee. Lots of coffee.”

The waitress slid over with two mugs and filled them before Tug could even respond. “Got ’em,” she said.

The woman sitting to Paul’s left pushed her omelet around on the plate. She had that look about her, like someone who sent back every meal for it being wrong somehow. Or one of those letter-writing complainers.

She lifted her gaze.

“Good morning,” Paul said.

“If you say so.”

He turned to Chase and gave him a sorry-I-asked look.

Chase shrugged and snickered.

The woman leaned forward, bypassing Paul, to speak to Chase. “So, what do you think about shells popping up out of nowhere with quotes on them? Think it’s possible, or a marketing ploy?”

Chase had that deer-in-the-headlights look. The kind a husband gets when he realizes there’s no right answer.

Paul turned to the woman and extended his hand. “I’m Paul.”

“Stacy,” she said.

“Nice to meet you. You have something against the shells?”

“I think it’s bunk, and who needs to be spreading lies?”

“Who are you to say they are?”

“Look, I’m just saying I think it’s probably some kind of marketing ploy to get tourists invested in things around here or romanticize the place. Like something out of one of those Nicholas Sparks novels. It’s dishonest.”

Paul should drop it, but he couldn’t stop himself. “What’s the harm if it’s real or not? The only one putting all their attention on it seems to be you. Just let it go.”

Stacy let her fork drop to her plate and pushed it forward on the counter. “Let me guess. You’re a business owner in this town too.”

“I am, but I also found one of those shells before I had a business here.”

She leaned her elbow on the counter, spinning on the stool toward him. “Is this guy for real?” she asked Chase.

“He’s a solid guy.”

“Really?” She cocked her head. “What’s your business?” she asked Paul.

Chase chimed in. “Paws Town Square.”

“I love that place. I’m keeping my dog there. It’s so nice that I get a discount for visiting him each day.”

“I’m glad you’re happy with the service,” Paul replied.

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Top-notch.”

“Well, if I hadn’t picked up that shell, I might not have made it through the planning meeting for my business and we might not be having this conversation. So why don’t you just let people believe what they want to believe?”

“Like some kind of divine intervention?” She made it sound sordid.

“I have no idea,” Paul said, “but what I do know is it gave me what

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