Elle Beverly

Sweet Sailing

Chapter One:

Sarah settled into the corner table of the bustling coffee shop, the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans and warm blueberry scones offering a welcome distraction from the tumult of her thoughts. She sipped her coffee: dark roast, no sugar, no cream. Sarah thought a person’s coffee order said something about the person, that it somehow reflected their personality. 

Sarah’s black coffee told the world that, although she may come across a bit strong, she could always be depended on. Black coffee was a classic for a reason: it was straightforward, reliable, and free from distractions, just like her. Well, Sarah grimaced, not quite distraction-free.

She stared at the open laptop, willing her fingers to move across the keyboard, but she could only think of her boyfriend, Michael. Ex-boyfriend, she corrected herself, not able to process it quite yet. 

She opened her email with a determined sigh, clicking the first unread message. There was no point in pining after Michael all day. Not when there was work to do. 

Sarah sent a response to her distributor’s worried email. He asked if she had a plan for what came next. Things couldn’t be as bad as he said… could they? 

She was still processing the fallout of her breakup; that’s what it was. She would tell her side of the story, and it would all blow over in a week… but her inner voice whispered that wasn’t true. 

Sarah was so absorbed in her anxiety she almost didn’t hear the low, familiar voice calling to her: “Sarah? Is it really you? Sarah Larson?”

At the sound of her name, she looked up to see the grinning man before her. “Lance!” She jumped out of her chair. “I can’t believe it!” 

She squeezed him tightly. The scent of his woodsy cologne clung to his wool sweater. She recognized the scent as one of her own creations: sandalwood and leather. She smiled, pleased he was wearing something from her fragrance line, but she wasn’t surprised he’d been drawn to that particular scent combination—it had been inspired by him, after all.

Years ago, when she was thinking of creating her first masculine scent after the success of her ladies’ perfumes, she immediately thought of Lance. She thought of the worn leather jacket he’d worn all through high school and the sandalwood jewelry box he’d made in shop class and gifted to her before leaving for business school.

The man in front of her was so similar to the boy she’d once known. He was still taller, of course, and he had the same warm smile, but his dark hair was no longer shaggy, and his broad shoulders made sure he outgrew the baggy clothes. Now, his hair was trimmed and styled neatly. He wore a blazer over his sweater and tailored black pants. Polished leather shoes had replaced the ratty, boyish sneakers. 

Sarah almost blushed as she imagined her own unkempt appearance. After the breakup, and now with work how it was… well, Sarah hadn’t given much thought to her appearance these last few days. 

She managed to brush her insecurity aside. Surely Lance, of all people, wouldn’t care how she looked if he thought about it at all. Sarah gestured to the empty seat at her table. “Please, won’t you have a seat? It’s been ages!”

Lance sat with a smile as Sarah tucked away her laptop. 

“How long are you in town?” she asked, eyeing his rather small suitcase.

“Just for the night,” he said. “I have to catch a plane in the morning and get back to work.”

“Is this a business trip?” Sarah asked, trying not to look disappointed.

“Not quite,” Lance took a sip of his coffee. “It’s the anniversary of my mom and dad’s passing.” 

“That’s right—the accident. I’m sorry, Lance.” Sarah’s heart ached for her old friend. She felt stupid not to have remembered. The last time she’d seen Lance had been at the funeral. 

“Thank you.” Lance smiled softly. “I come home every year to visit their graves and bring Mom her favorite flowers.”

Home. Sarah noted his word choice and offered a tender smile. “Your parents were wonderful people. They would be proud of you.”

Silence hung in the air.

“Are you still working for that big company? What was it called?” Sarah asked, hoping to change the topic to something Lance might find more pleasant.

“No, not for years.” Lance grinned sheepishly. “I actually own my own company now.”

“Lance—that’s amazing!” 

“Ah, it’s nothing. You had your own fragrance business long before I even finished school. You followed your passion, and that’s the true accomplishment.”

Sarah waved her hand dismissively. “Now that you have your own business, I assume you love what you do, too.”

“Absolutely.” Sarah got the sense that Lance didn’t want to talk about his work, so she didn’t press it. 

“And I get to spend so much more time with my daughter now.” He reached for his wallet and showed Sarah a photograph of a small girl, about ten years old. Her hair, dark like Lance’s, was pulled into two braids. She smiled widely at the camera, showing off her silver braces with gusto. 

“Oh, Lance—she’s beautiful.”

He nodded as if he already knew his daughter was the most perfect girl in the world. “Sophie is my everything. She keeps me grounded, you know?”

Sarah nodded, although she had not yet experienced the kind of love he must have for his dear Sophie. “And her mother?” Sarah asked.

“Not in the picture.” Lance shook his head as if to banish any dark thoughts. “But enough about me—what about you? Are you still seeing—” 

“Not anymore.” She shook her head. “It’s just me! Actually, it’s just me.”

“Then he’s a fool, and he didn’t deserve you to begin with.”

Sarah couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “How do you know I’m not the foolish one?”

“Because I know you, Sarah.”

Sarah nearly rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t mean I’m not—”

“I mean it.” Lance stared into her hazel eyes. “You deserve better.”

“Thank you.” Sarah tried to accept the compliment, but she felt a pang in her chest as she realized she really was alone now. She glanced at Lance, wondering if he ever felt that same loneliness and longing for companionship. 

“Sarah, you seem… preoccupied—is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just work stuff.” She gestured to her closed laptop and paused, unsure just how much she should reveal. “Just doing some damage control.”

Lance leaned forward, furrowing his thick brow. “Can I help?”

Sarah shook her head, not wanting to burden him. He seemed to already have enough on his plate that day. “Thanks, but it’s really nothing.”

Lance nodded. The Sarah he knew was fiercely independent, and she wanted him to know she still was. 

He took a last sip of his coffee. “Sarah,” Lance began, his voice hesitant, “I was planning to visit the florist soon, but if you want company, I will gladly stay.”

She offered him a reassuring smile. “No, it’s okay. I totally understand. You need this time alone.”

Sarah watched Lance cross the street through the window. She wondered when or if their paths would cross again. Although she couldn’t imagine where or when she somehow felt certain they would.