The Waterfront was as a hollow shell of its summer splendor, the tourists departed, the weekend over, the clock drawing toward midnight. Closing time. Everywhere he looked, Simon was reminded the warmth of the season was over, the good times gone, and a dark road lay ahead. For the bar and for him.
Gisele counted her tips on the table at the back. Tom nursed the final dregs of his last call beer and the spark of hope Simon carried around in his chest all day sputtered and began to die. No sight nor sign of Mary.
She didn't choose him.
"Just one more?" Tom's red-rimmed eyes left the beer and struggled to focus.
Simon packed lemon wedges into a container. "Sorry bud. Time's up."
For all of us.
The hole in Simon's chest throbbed with every breath, reminding him of what was lost and what would never be. Although he said he'd sign the contract tonight, Simon didn't have the strength to follow through. Not right now, at least. Tomorrow he could rip apart his life with signatures. Tonight, he needed to find oblivion with a bottle.
What he preferred was to walk out of this bar and find the woman he'd held a candle for over a decade, the woman he loved waiting for him. Give anything to see her leaning against the hood of his vehicle, dressed in head-to-toe pink. Hell, even if she wore the stiff confining outfit from the other night. As long as she was there. For him.
He knew the image was a fantasy. Like most of his hopes and dreams around Mary Montgomery. What they had, they were, had burned slow and long, but the flame was only air and heat, no substance left to sustain the relationship. He'd have to move on.
Simon rubbed his temple. Bachelordom wasn't so bad. Meant he could go anywhere, do anything without compromise. With the money from the sale of the Waterfront, he'd be free from financial worries. Perhaps he could distract himself with globe trotting adventures in far-off lands. Anything to shore up the hole in his heart.
Finn had been surprisingly supportive of his plan yesterday, suggesting places to travel to he'd seen during his time with the military. He declared, once the baby came, and all was well, the whole family would make the trip to wherever Simon ended up. The words meant the world to Simon, Finn willing to come to him for once, a revelation. The insight he wouldn't lose his brother again made the pain a little less.
"Want me to call a cab for this one?" Gisele pointed a thumb in Tom's direction.
The man in question clung to his beer like the glass was the last lifejacket on the Titanic. "Wanna come home with me?"
Gisele covered her giggle with a manicured hand, the luminous pink nail polish the same tone as her lipstick. "My girlfriend might object."
"She can come too."
"Generous offer but I think we need to pass." Gisele nudged Tom toward the exit. "Maybe next time."
Snatching up the empty beer glass, Simon returned it to the sink in the kitchen and flicked off the lights. In his office ghosts of Mary appeared everywhere, jabbing at him like knives with the recollections of them together on the desk, the couch, up against the wall. His fingers twitched with a longing to trace the gentle arch of Mary's cheek, jaw, run his thumb across her lips.
Never again would he hold her, be singed by the heat of her skin where her touch branded him. This room, a testament to their passion, would be torn down, disappear. If only his feelings for her could be demolished as easily.
Simon plucked his leather jacket off the back of his office chair and, not bothering to grab his tablet, plunged the room into darkness. Closed the door to the past and walked away.
"I'll start on the inventory, boss." Gisele undid the strings of her black apron and made her way down to the bar.
"Don't bother." Simon picked up her coat from the rack on the wall in the hall and held it out for his assistant. "Let's just go home. We can clean up tomorrow."
Dark eyebrows arched above wide brown eyes. "It's no problem."
Simon feigned an excuse. "Too tired tonight. I'll come in early in the morning and clean all this up." The entire team was gathering together before the restaurant opened tomorrow and Simon intended to break the news of the sale. Pain stabbed at his stomach at the smile on Gisele's face. She'd find another job. They all would. Even so, he wouldn't leave them high and dry. He'd arranged for severance packages for all his employees that should keep them afloat until next summer, when tourist season picked up again.
Or maybe Gisele, Tim and others might look at this as an opportunity to change up their own life. Move on.
A bottle of vodka in hand, Simon flicked off the lights and followed Gisele out of the bar. She waved goodbye as Simon shoved the key into the lock of the front door. With a click, the bar was closed. So was his heart.
Resigned, Simon trudged to the back of the bar where his truck sat waiting to take him home. The balmy September day had cooled into a crisp night and the cold air felt good against his hot cheeks. Flaming with embarrassment at allowing himself to dream Mary would respond to his ultimatum, that it would work out in his favour.
Simon turned around the corner of his bar and searched for his truck. What he saw stopped his heart.
There, against the shimmering white of his truck, stood a figure. Hair the colour of sunlight, curves he'd know anywhere adorn in a white t-shirt and jeans. Arms crossed; her head snapped up at the sound of his gasp.
Simon tightened his grip on the neck of the bottle. Was he hallucinating? So desperate to make his vision of Mary true, his mind played tricks on him. But the Mary of his dreams always wore her signature pink, unlike the woman before him. A roaring in his ears drowned out the crickets' chirps that only a moment ago seemed to mock him with their optimism.
She shifted and put a hand on her hip. "I prefer wine to vodka."
He wanted to saunter over to her, play this cool. But his body betrayed him, Simon's feet pounding against the pavement as he raced to embrace Mary. His arms wrapped around her waist as he dragged her to him, lips finding hers as they sought confirmation of her presence.
This wasn't a figment of his imagination. Mary was indeed here. In his arms. Warm and real. She tasted of wishes come true and infinite possibilities. His heart pounded double-time, making up for the missed beats when she wasn't around. The darkness haunting him since she'd walked out of his office receded, light breaking through the cracks and the hole in his chest shuttered, hope rushing in.
Fingers found their way to the base of his neck, into his hair as the chilly evening air evaporated with the heat of their bodies pressed together. His hands clung to her hips as he trapped Mary between him and the truck. He kissed her with the fevered abandonment of a man who held the woman who loved him, had chosen him.
When absolutely necessary to wrench his lips from hers, he did so, dragging in a deep breath and using the air to whisper words he hoped to repeat for the rest of his life. "I love you Mary."
She stilled beneath his touch. No, she had to be here for him, for forever. She wouldn't have kissed him like this if she wasn't. Wouldn't tease his heart in this way. Would she?
Mary pressed her forehead against his. "Simon, are you sure about this?"
He almost whimpered at the concern in her voice, the idea Mary could doubt his commitment. Her, here with him was the only thing that mattered. "Absolutely."
"But..."
His heart stopped. "But what?"
"I... I've done horrible things."
His heart started beating again. Was that all? "Who hasn't?"
Mary winced. "Well, Emily for a start."
"So what? You're not your sister." Simon's finger traced Mary's cheek, his thumb dragging across her lips. "And I don't love Emily. Well, not like this." Lips planted soft kisses along the path his finger had mapped out, lingering on her lips.
Mary's head snapped back. "I certainly hope not." Then she sighed. "See, mean things come out of my mouth."
"I love this mouth." He leaned in to prove the statement, and Mary tilted her head away.
"Simon, I'm serious. I... I'm not perfect."
"Mary Montgomery, listen to me for once in your life." Simon waited until the blue eyes he adored met his. "I don't want perfect. Or rather, you're perfect to me. I want you. All of you. All your... imperfections."
The corners of her delicious mouth twitched. "Really?"
"Yes, really."
The expression of delight on her face made his heart soar. Mary smiled at him, with him, because of him, and there was nothing Simon wanted more than to spend a lifetime making her smile.
"Say it again."
Leaning in, he whispered in her ear. "Simon says I love you."