A figure descended the stairs, dressed entirely in blue. A towel wrapped around its head in a turban-style, a frilly bathrobe enveloped its body, and fluffy, oversized house shoes concealed the feet. The only part of the figure that was visible was the face—a face he had hoped to never encounter again.
When Trisha spotted him, her mouth dropped open, and she came to a sudden halt on the staircase, frozen in surprise. Her cheeks flushed with a charming shade of pink. Other than her striking baby blue eyes, she resembled a large, cuddly stuffed animal.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you had company," she stammered. She quickly turned and started to ascend the stairs. "I'll go back upstairs until my car arrives."
Gwen let out a chuckle. "You won't be escaping dinner, that's for sure. Dinner's hot and waiting. Trisha, this is Dashiell." She extended her hand toward him, as if introducing him on a game show. "Dashiell, I'd like you to meet my guest, Trisha Lockhart."
"Yeah, we've run into each other before," Dashiell replied, his own voice sounding somewhat lacked enthusiasm to him. "Actually, we're both from the same company, but we work in different departments."
Gwen shifted her gaze from Dashiell to Trisha with curious look. She tilted her head slightly and asked, "Well, isn't that interesting? Well, it's a small world, isn't it? It's always surprising how paths can cross in unexpected places. I hope you both enjoy your time in Azure Bay."
"Yes," Trisha chimed in, her smile polite as she descended the last step, "Dashiell was kind enough to give me a ride into town."
Gwen's expression turned into one of mock outrage as she scolded Dashiell, her voice filled with playful exasperation. "Oh gosh, Dashiell! Why did you just drop her off at X-O store like a pile of lumber?" She waved a wooden spoon in the air, emphasizing her point, though there was nothing righteous about her indignation.
Dashiell's jaw hung open, and he stammered in response, "B-but—" He struggled to find the right words to explain his act.
Trisha took a step closer, her voice earnest as she explained, "It's my fault, Aunt Gwen. I asked him to drop me off. I didn't know he was your friend."
Dashiell watched the interaction, his mind swirling with thoughts. Was Trisha being completely honest, or was there more to her story than what it seemed? He couldn't help but wonder about her true intentions.
Gwen clicked her tongue in that same familiar scolding manner of hers. "That's not a good enough reason, young man. You could have at least walked in with her." She turned to face Dashiell, hands on her hips, her expression stern. "Honestly, Dash! Didn't it occur to you how uncomfortable she might have been, entering a store filled with unfamiliar men? I expected better from you."
Dashiell felt a pang of guilt. Gwen had a point, and he realized he hadn't considered Trisha's perspective in that situation. He looked down to his coffee, feeling chastised by her words.
His gaze remained fixed beyond Gwen's head, locked onto the city woman, and he clenched his jaw tightly. Trisha's look held a certain air of triumph, or perhaps it was a challenge. Either way, he wasn't about to let this petite, blue-clad figure turn him into a fool.
With a determined resolve, he cleared his throat and took a step forward. "I apologize for my behavior, Miss Lockhart." He emphasized the formality, wanting to show that he too could be civilized when necessary.
Trisha took his outstretched hand with wide-eyed surprise, her mouth forming a perfect big 'O' of astonishment. Dashiell couldn't help but notice the delicate nature of her fingers, so small and fragile compared to his large, calloused hand. She held an air of vulnerability, like a child in need of protection.
As her fingers touched his, he caught a whiff of a fruity soap, a soft scent that enveloped the air around him. He took in a deep breath, struggling to focus on her words. His mouth felt as dry as a creek bed in the scorching summer heat.
Her inquisitive gaze seemed to penetrate straight into his soul, sending a jolt of electricity from his eye sockets down to his toenails. There was no doubt that this woman had an uncanny ability to see through him.
Dashiell settled into the ladder-back chair, his anticipation building as he reached for the basket. He pulled back the blue-and-white-checked towel that covered it, revealing the warm, steaming bread inside. Steam wafted up from the hot loaves, and his salivary glands seemed to go into overdrive.
There was nothing quite like Gwen's homemade bread to satisfy a hungry man. Even after several years had passed, it still tasted as delicious as ever. He couldn't resist and claimed three slices, placing them carefully onto his plate.
As Dashiell savored his meal, Gwen struck up a chat with Trisha. "So, Trisha, what do you think about our little corner of the world?"
Trisha took a moment to savor a bite of her meal before responding to Gwen's question. She smiled and replied, "Well, Aunt Gwen, I have to say, Azure Bay has a unique charm to it. I needed a change of scenery. It seemed like the perfect place to escape to. It's a far cry from the hustle and bustle of the city, and I'm looking forward to exploring its beauty and potential."
Gwen nodded in understanding. "That's what many folks find appealing about this place. It's a peaceful retreat from the chaos of city life, and it has a way of growing on you. I hope you'll discover all the hidden treasures Azure Bay has to offer during your stay."
Trisha's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I'm looking forward to discovering it. And your bread, Aunt Gwen, it's amazing."
Gwen beamed at the compliment. "Oh, thank you, dear. It's a family recipe, passed down for generations."
Dashiell found himself distracted by their exchanges. The breads he had been eating began a slow burn, and he quickly dropped them onto his plate, tempted to blow on his fingertips to soothe the slight burn.
He tried to join in the chat, but her captivating gaze kept pulling him in. What was wrong with him?
A sudden rush of heat flooded his face, and he awkwardly tugged at the collar of his shirt, feeling slightly flustered. He tried to divert his attention back to the food, taking another bite of the delicious bread. But he couldn't shake the strange sensations coursing through him. Why were my palms so sweaty?
Gwen shot him a questioning look and chimed in with another remark. "You know, Trisha, I've been living in Azure Bay for decades. My husband and I built this house together. We had some wonderful years here before he passed away."
Trisha looked genuinely interested. "That sounds lovely. It must be full of cherished memories."
Gwen nodded, her eyes distant. "Oh, it is. This place holds a lot of history for me, and I'm happy to share it with guests like you."
The silence in the room seemed to amplify the tick of the clock, making it almost ear-splitting. Dashiell's thoughts were in turmoil, and he desperately grasped at the first coherent question that came to mind.
Seemingly unaware of his inner turmoil, Gwen turned her attention to Trisha and offered a warm smile. "So, Trish, what brings you to Azure Bay? Do you have a specific purpose for being here?" She paused with curious look. "You know, it's not often that people choose this secluded place as their destination."
Trisha considered her response carefully before speaking without revealing too much information. "Well, Aunt Gwen, I actually work for a real estate company, and we're exploring potential development opportunities in this area. We believe Azure Bay has a lot of untapped potential, and we're here to assess the possibilities."
Gwen nodded thoughtfully and gave her encouraging smile. "Ah, I see. Real estate development can be a promising venture, and Azure Bay does have its unique charm. If you're here to explore opportunities, you might just find some hidden gems in this town."
Dashiell noticed the unspoken communication between the two women and felt it was time to intervene and break the apparent tension. With a hint of cynicism in his tone, he chimed in, "Well, it's always good to have some fresh eyes on things, isn't it? But real estate can be a tricky business, full of surprises, especially for a woman."
Stern furrows etched their way onto Gwen's forehead as she listened to his harsh words. However, Trisha continued to chatter away, seemingly unfazed by his cynicism. She casually added another piece of bread to her plate before responding with an equally cynical remark of her own and a sly smile. "Oh, Dashiell, you're absolutely right. Real estate can be a jungle, and sometimes the surprises are what make it interesting. But I'm here to uncover those hidden gems and bring something fresh to Azure Bay."
Dashiell couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Trisha's response. Her great confidence seemed unshaken by his cynical remark, and it left him somewhat intrigued. He was about to respond when he noticed Gwen's reaction.
The old lady, who had been listening to their exchange, rolled her eyes in annoyance at their banter. It was clear that she found their verbal sparring a bit tiresome, and her reaction spoke volumes about her feelings toward the situation. Dashiell couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at Gwen's exasperation before deciding to let the conversation move on.
A steady stream of conversation soon flowed between Gwen and Trisha, and Dashiell couldn't help but marvel at their ability to chat about anything and everything.
He leaned back in his chair and released a quiet puff of air through his lips, finding it somewhat amusing. It struck him that Trisha hadn't been nearly as talkative during their drive into town; she had been rather tight-lipped by comparison.
What gave her the audacity to believe she could overturn the dwindling Azure Bay project? He mulled over the question from various angles, but as he continued to devour the hot food, he found himself no closer to understanding her motives than before.
His fork clattered onto the empty plate, and he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his now full belly. It was becoming increasingly clear that understanding Trisha's ideas might be a futile attempt. Still, he couldn't let Gwen be taken in by false hope.
Dashiell stood, carrying his plate to the sink, unsure why the cocky woman had insisted on coming here or how long she planned to stay. He wanted to see how far can she go. One thing was certain in his mind: he was more than ready for her to leave.