Her platinum blonde hair braided into a long plait that fell down her back, Aunt Petula walked briskly toward the table where Claire was working. Today, she wore a long ochre-colored caftan. Her bracelets jingled cheerfully as she placed a chicken and raisin salad in front of her niece. Although Claire always warmly recommended the seafood specialties at Le Rivage Bleu, she couldn't eat them herself due to a food allergy.
Petula scanned the room: midweek, only the usual clientele was present.
—
"Well! Everyone's been served," she declared. Pleased with this observation, she sat down across from Claire and, spilling a few grains of salt on the turquoise oilcloth, attempted to balance the salt shaker on one of its facets. Pretending to be absorbed in the task, she went on:
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"I've heard all about your early morning visitor. Including the part where he works for Adelson and is devilishly handsome."
Claire stabbed her fork into a piece of chicken and a currant before replying:
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"I fail to see the relevance of your last remark."
Petula smiled. The salt shaker managed to stay lopsided, thanks to a single grain of salt.
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"Oh? So I was misinformed about his looks?"
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"To be honest, Aunt Petula, it was his bossy attitude that struck me first—not his physical appearance," Claire answered as she brought the fork to her mouth.
Leaning back in her chair, Petula regarded her niece with a knowing look… A look that greatly irritated the latter. As usual, her aunt was jumping to conclusions based on flawed information!
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"Knowing you, I'm still sure you gave him the warmest of welcomes," Petula observed.
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"I tried," Claire replied after swallowing a sip of cold tea. "Hogan is free to do as he pleases behind the dolphin enclosure gates. But that doesn't mean he can dictate the rules in town."
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"I understand," Aunt Petula agreed, her eyes twinkling. "But tell me—did you give him any indication that you were available?"
Claire nearly dropped her fork.
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"Of course not! Why would I bring up my personal life with him?"
Petula straightened the salt shaker and replied:
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"Because you're single. And according to Patty Barnes, he wasn't wearing a wedding ring."
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"Patty stared at him so intensely, I'm sure she could even tell you how many moles he has!" Claire said with scorn.
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"Understandably," Petula sighed. "Since Sam Jenkins opened his scooter rental shop, not a single eligible bachelor has moved to the island."
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"Sam is nineteen, Aunt Petula," her niece reminded her in a tone halfway between stern and amused. "Besides, I'm not personally interested in welcoming a new man into our community."
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"Well, that's a shame, darling. It's high time you thought about remarrying."
Oh no. Not the lecture about her social status again. Wasn't the best defense a good offense? Claire exclaimed:
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"You're hardly one to talk! How long has Finn Sweeney been courting you without anything coming of it? Six years?"
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"Finn and I have been seeing each other for six years," Petula confirmed in a neutral tone. "But he isn't courting me…"
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"That's right—your relationship passed that stage long ago," her niece replied mischievously. "So if you're dying to attend a wedding, why don't you marry Finn yourself?"
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"You know very well I've lost faith in that lovely institution," her aunt said sadly.
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"And yet you've bet on it three times," Claire noted with a hint of spite.
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"Which is exactly why I won't commit a fourth time. But you, on the other hand, could give it a second try."
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"Roman was everything I ever wanted in a man. I don't want to tarnish his memory by settling for the first…"
Claire trailed off and turned away, unable to hold Petula's probing gaze any longer. Jack Hogan wasn't the first man she had avoided. Wasn't that the real reason she left Miami? To escape the suitors from her social circle who, after Roman's death, bombarded her with unwelcome advances?
—
"What's the point of rehashing this?" Claire asked, turning back to her aunt.
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"Because it is an important subject," Petula insisted. Glancing toward the window, she added:
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"And because I have a hunch the man in question is about to walk into the restaurant."
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"Excuse me?" Claire asked, leaning toward the window. "And how would you even know? You've never seen him."
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"A man in a suit stands out immediately on this island," Petula said with a mischievous look. At that very moment, Jack Hogan stepped through the door of Le Rivage Bleu.
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"If you breathe a single word to him about your poor niece's loneliness, I'll never forgive you," Claire warned.
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"I'll just greet him," Petula replied airily. "You know, people's eyes can reveal a lot about their innermost thoughts. Just like yours right now, sweetheart."
Deep down, why was Claire even surprised by Aunt Petula's behavior? As someone who had always been close to her, she had seen her aunt act on impulse countless times. In fact, Petula was so endearing that Claire couldn't help but love her—and admire her philosophy of life. During her years at the University of Florida, overwhelmed with reading and assignments, Claire had envied her aunt: she was such a free spirit.
For as long as Claire could remember, Petula had flitted from job to job, always claiming it was just a temporary way to make ends meet, never seeking a ladder to a more secure future. That way of life—one that required the ability to bounce back at any moment—had always felt foreign to Claire. A graduate of a top business school, she had one clear goal: to earn enough money to be free from financial worry.
Though used to Petula's flamboyance, Claire couldn't help but shiver when she saw her heading toward Jack Hogan, whom she greeted with warmth and seated at a nice table near the window… directly across from her! This, despite a sign on the door stating that Le Rivage Bleu allowed customers to seat themselves wherever they liked—no need to be shown to a table!
Petula then placed a menu in front of Hogan. Even before glancing around, he removed his jacket and loosened his tie. Despite trying to appear more relaxed, he still stood out among the other patrons, all in shorts and T-shirts.
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"What do you recommend?" he asked Petula as he studied the menu.
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"Everything from our kitchen is exquisite," she replied quickly with a big smile. "But my advice? Close your eyes and let your finger land randomly on the menu."