Second time around, p.1
Second Time Around, page 1
Second Time Around
A Potter Lake Holiday Novella (Potter Lake Book 2)
DL White
Contents
Untitled
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Enjoy a sneak peak of book 3 in the Potter Lake series
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Also by DL White
About the Author
Untitled
Potter Lake, GA is a small town filled with life and love, where the hustle and bustle slows down just enough to notice what— and who is around you.
For recent transplants, Sage Owens and Bennett Alexander, their greatest losses marked the end of to have and to hold. While time marches on, it doesn’t move in reverse; it doesn’t bring back the love of your life.
These two souls are drawn together in this quaint town and discover that their meeting is not so accidental but fated. What time may bring this holiday season is a second chance at love.
1
Sage
* * *
“There you go, Mayor Cavanaugh. Sorry about the wait. I had to hand steam the milk.”
Sage Owens, owner of Rooster’s Coffee, slid a frothy medium latte across the counter and smiled up into the handsome face of Potter Lake’s new mayor.
Well, the term new was relative. The previous Mayor, Quincy Adams, had been in office for as long as anyone could remember because no one had had the guts to run against him. He was scamming half the town and trying to put the other half out of business, so Kade Cavanaugh had done just that, and won by a landslide. Last anyone heard from Quincy, he tucked tail, vacated the official residence, and moved to Birmingham, Alabama. Good riddance.
“Not a problem,” he said, lifting the thick paper cup to sip a bit off the top. He licked froth from his lips and hummed his approval. “Mmmmm, that’s good. And I keep telling you to call me Kade. Or KC. We’re colleagues.”
Though he spent most weekdays running Potter Lake, a few evenings a week, Saturdays and holidays, you could find Mayor Cavanaugh at Guys N’ Dolls Salon. Since City Hall was likely closed for the Christmas holidays, he had been spending a lot of time at the shop, trying to give his hardworking barbers and the manager — his sister, TC — some respite.
Sage shook her head, planting a fist on her hip. “And I keep telling you that my MaDear would come up out of her grave to shake her finger at me calling the mayor by his first name. You’re just going to have to get used to it. It’s that or Your Honor.”
Mayor laughed, a hearty and loud guffaw. “Oh no, no, no. I can’t even… no.” He reached for a lid and snapped it on top of his cup, then pushed his wallet into the back pocket of some loose athletic pants with the Aria logo printed down the side. The black shirt he wore matched, with Aria in neat printing across the right front breast. Back in his NBA days, that was the brand he represented and though he hadn’t seen a court in years, he still wore it proudly.
“Thanks Sage. Appreciate it.” He squinted as he turned to stare out of the windows of the shop. Her end of the parking lot was so empty, Sage swore she saw a tumbleweed blow through. “It’s strange that business is so slow today.”
“Must be the weather. Or the holiday. Is the barbershop busy?”
“Always. And Leslie’s back-to-back at the Curl & Dye this morning. People trying to get fine for Christmas, I guess. Speaking of busy, I’d better get back. If you get lonely, come on down to Guys N Dolls.”
“I just might do that. You got that cute baby over there today?”
He moved toward the door, but not before beaming a proud grin. Little KJ was a bright ray of sunshine, a perfect mix of Leslie and Kade. “Not this morning, but Leslie will probably bring him by later on. I’ll text you.”
Sage waved as he swung the door open and headed down the sidewalk to his end of the row. Rooster’s Coffee and Guys & Dolls bookended the line of shops in the ever-expanding strip mall. Every time she turned around, something new was being built, or somebody was having a grand opening.
The Potter Lake population exploded when Mayor Cavanaugh took over and started making good on his promises to improve the town. His goal was to make Potter Lake a friendly small town, and they were well on their way. Streetlights and wide sidewalks had been added, and a trolly that would take you from one end of the town to the other and back again. He even established bus service to and from Healy so that people could easily live and work in either town.
Sage still liked Healy exactly where it was, twenty miles west, but it was nice to ride out and spend a day shopping, see a movie, and visit with her daughter, Rae.
She was a senior at Healy University, and a major reason that she had sold her house and moved from Ocala, Florida to Georgia. Gordon, her husband, had only been gone a little over a year when Rae left for college and Sage missed her every second of every day. She was miserable, alone, and lonely. Over spring break that year, Rae talked about a little town about twenty miles away from the college. It was growing quickly, she said, and the mayor was talking about getting people to move out there and start up a business. Maybe Sage could do just that and open that little coffee shop she had talked about for years.
It wasn’t like Sage didn’t have the money. Gordon’s life insurance and careful financial planning had them covered, and then some. Sage still wanted a life — she couldn’t just sit in the house and watch the time pass. She could do whatever she wanted to do. And what she wanted to do was to be near her daughter. So, excited, she listed the house and started packing and made trips back and forth, looking for merchant space and a home.
For the first year, she lived in an apartment close to Rooster’s, but it seemed so modern. Contemporary. She wanted something older, something… country, with a little character. Then the perfect place opened up, a garage apartment that a member of her church had posted for rent. Her daughter, the previous tenant, had moved in with the man who would later become the mayor.
Sage checked her watch, then rounded the counter to stand at the window and take in a long glance at the empty parking lot. It looked like most of the shops were doing little to no business. Except for Guys N’ Dolls, which always seemed to be hopping, mostly because it was as much a hangout spot as it was a family salon. It was a good thing that business was slow, because the espresso machine had been broken for two days and calls to Brevel to send the repairman back out seemed to go unanswered.
A small, white pickup that had seen better days turned into the parking lot. It crawled past the shops between Rooster’s and Guys N Dolls, then pulled into the space in front of the entrance. Sage stepped back from the window and watched him slowly, bit by bit, get out of the truck.
One boot hit the ground, and then the other. A pair of dark jeans was visible in the space underneath the driver’s side door while he leaned into the cab of the truck and grabbed what looked like a small clipboard. He straightened, then stepped back, then slammed the truck door shut, the vehicle seeming to shudder with the impact.
A button-down shirt was open at the collar, covered by a black zip-up hoodie with Alexander Repair embroidered across the breast. He was tall; not a giant like KC, but tall enough to lift her gaze as he approached the front door. His legs were long, his gait smooth. His clean-shaven face had a strong chin, high cheekbones, and enviable lashes and brows.
This… wasn’t her usual repairman. Ned drove a flashy fire engine red Dodge Ram, was short and stocky and had a belly that made him look like he was in his third trimester. Sage realized she’d been standing in the window, staring in time to reach out and open the door for him. He smiled as he stepped inside.
“Are you Sage Owens? I’m from Brevel.”
“I’m Sage, yes,” she answered, without swooning over the baritone sounds that seemed to come from the depths of his chest. “What happened to Ned?”
He reached into a pocket to show her a plastic encased ID card. “Bennett Alexander,” he said, then tucked it away, bringing up the clipboard. “I’m with Alexander Repair. I have no idea where Ned is, but I’ve taken over his customers in this area. Everybody’s been asking and everybody’s mad ‘cause they haven’t seen him.”
Sage huffed. “Yeah. My machine has been down for days, and I haven’t heard a peep. Thought I was going to have to get ugly with Brevel. I pay a maintenance contract on this thing for a reason.” She turned, waving at him to follow. “It’s this one here.”
“And what is it doing? Or not doing?”
“Steaming. I can get hot coffee, no problem, but if I need froth or to steam milk, I have to use that hand steamer over there.” I pointed to the small, discarded appliance on the counter.
“Gotcha.” He took in the shiny silver contraption with all its bells and whistles that rendered the unit useless if the bells and whistles didn’t work. “I’m going to grab my toolbox and I’ll open her up and take a look.”
Sage watched his long-legged stride out of the shop and wondered, almost aloud, about this new repairman. He wasn’t young by any stretch of the imagination. But he wasn’t an old man, either. Seasoned, as the kids say. Stocky, but not rippling with muscle. Smooth, dark skin, smoky brown eyes, and only a hint of silver in the low-cut hair on his head.
In nearly the same moment, she chided herself. Looking at some man like he’s tonight’s dinner. But a delicious dinner he would be…
Bennet came back in, toting a medium sized metal box. “Mind if I set this here?”
Sage nodded. He set the box down on the faux marble counter, then reached behind the machine and flipped the switch to turn it off, then flipped the hinges at the side to swing open the face of the unit. All her inner workings were on display for the world to see.
“How long have you had this unit?”
“Just a couple of years,” she answered, leaning against the counter to watch him work.
She never watched Ned work. In fact, Sage preferred to not even be in the same room as Ned. He’d talk nonstop to anyone in hearing range, usually about nothing that made any sense. Or sports, even though she had told him a hundred times that she wasn’t a sports watcher.
Bennett, though… she watched those nimble fingers dig into the machine and take the bits and pieces apart and set them on the counter all in a line.
“Was it new when you bought it?”
“Aw no, used. This place has only been open about three years. I’m new out here.”
“Me too. Brand new,” he replied, lifting his head up and out of the machine. “Brevel asked if I’d be willing to take over this territory. I needed a change of pace, so I figured, why not? I guess it saves the time of having to send someone from twenty miles away, huh?”
Sage bobbed her head, absentmindedly nodding.
“I’m renting a spot until I get things squared away, but I’m thinking I might buy one of those new houses they’re building. Then again, I hear there’s some nice land on the other side of the lake. More room to do what you want without having neighbors in your business.”
“I just moved into a place over on the other side. I prefer it.”
He brightened, smiling while turning a screwdriver. “Oh yeah?”
“Have you met Leslie? The mayor’s wife? She owns the Curl & Dye Beauty Shop over there.”
“Everybody knows Leslie. I rewired two of her hair dryers last week. And I was a serious fan of her husband back in the day.”
“Well, I’m renting her old place. It’s a little apartment over the garage at her folks’ house, just what I needed. And now and again, Lee — Leslie’s mama? She’ll make a few dozen treats for me to bring to the coffee shop to sell.”
“I’m sure they’re good. I’ve heard about her carrot cake.” The screw he’d been fighting finally gave, granting him entrance to another part of the machine. “I think I see the problem. Got a kink in your line. That happens in these refurbished units with the old steel parts. And looks like your temperature gauge is about gone. Have you been having issues with it?”
Sage nodded, proceeding to go into what was probably a long, boring story about how long it took to get a decent cup of steamed milk or stiff peaks of foam. “So how long am I going to be down? Is there any way to rush the parts? That hand steamer is going to be the death of my wrist.”
He smiled, showing off a pretty white set of teeth. “Ms. Owens, when I walk out of here, this machine is going to be pumping out more lattes than you can handle.”
Sage tried hard not to grin like an idiot, but she couldn’t help it. His voice was so… deep and yet silky smooth. “Please, call me Sage. And wow, really? Ned always had to order parts, and they took forever to come in and then he’d have to come back, and charge me for the return—”
“Sage?” He cut her off with a warm hand on her shoulder. “You will not see Ned ever again. This machine is mine now, and I’m going to take excellent care of her.”
“Well alright, Mr. Bennett Alexander. I’d best let you get to work.”
* * *
Bennett
* * *
Bennett walked out of the shop toward his truck, shaking his head in absolute amazement. This “Ned” was an idiot and a thief, dragging out service calls so he could double bill. He was probably overcharging on parts, too. There was no reason not to keep small replaceable parts on your truck and fix things on a single visit. To get over on any of your customers, specifically a woman who was trying to do something for herself, was reprehensible. His mother took in laundry and did sewing most of his childhood, so he knew the heartache that having a machine breakdown could cause. It would put a serious limp in her stride.
His phone buzzed in his pocket as he stood at the back of the truck, sifting through the crates of small parts and miscellaneous tools. It was an organized mess, functional to no one but Bennett. He pulled the device out to glance at the screen and smiled, pressing the button to accept.
“Hi Daddy,” came the tinny sound of his daughter, Rebecca. “I have Albert here. We were just calling to see what you were doing.”
“I’m working, but not for long. I’m on my one and only call. Going to go get a haircut, see what’s going on with the fellas. You uh…. you and Albert get that favor done for me?”
“Yes, Daddy. We got the flowers and put them on her grave. I’ll text you a picture when we hang up. So you’re good?”
Bennett considered the question, weighing his emotion and general outlook of the day. He decided he felt pretty good.
“I’m better than I thought I would be. But I’m on a service call, so let me call you back later—”
“It’s okay, dad.” Albert’s low baritone came through, sounding like he was hovering a few inches from the phone. “I have to pick up a couple of things for grandma for dinner tomorrow. Are you sure you’ll be okay spending Christmas alone? We can fly you here. Don’t worry about the cost.”
“Naw, naw. I’m fine. I’m looking forward to it. Something new, you know?”
“Yeah. Well, if you insist that you’re fine—”
“And I do.”
“—then I guess we’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you, dad.”
“Love you too, ladybug. You too, son. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, Dad.”
He disconnected the call and slid the phone back into the pocket of his zippered hoodie. He gathered the parts and tools needed and headed back to the coffee shop.
Bennett hadn’t planned on working today. He had long ago scheduled the day off but when Brevel called and said they had an emergency and said where it was, he’d taken the call. He could use the distraction.
Today was Virginia’s birthday. Her fifth birthday since she’d passed, and he still woke up out of a dead sleep on December 24th, panicking because he hadn’t picked up the flowers or a card or anything, and he knew she’d be upset because he’d forgotten. Virginia had been one of those kids that got presents for both holidays wrapped up in one. Bennett made it a point to celebrate her birthday separately. One full day to celebrate Virginia Alexander.
After he remembered that she was gone and probably wouldn’t be already counting the minutes of her full day of celebration, he laid back down. He wasn’t even in Charlotte this year. The kids would take care of the flowers for him.
He couldn’t go back to sleep, though. He just… lay there on his back, staring at the ceiling fan until sunrise. Then beyond sunrise. Then he got the service call and figured that if he didn’t get out of bed, he would lie in it all day.
Sage was right where he had left her, leaning against the counter. “Sorry about that. My kids were calling from back home.”
“Kids?” Her eyebrows shot up toward her hairline. Bennett saw her sneak a peek at his left hand and the glimpse of confusion at the presence of no ring. “You have kids?”
“Two grown ass crumb snatchers. They’re twenty-one and twenty-three.”
“Oh.” She sighed a light breath, then laughed. “I thought you meant babies. My Rae is twenty-two. Seems like they were just babies, though, doesn’t it?”
“Sure does. I feel like it was just yesterday that Virginia was pacing and cursing, and I was timing contractions.” Bennett bent to look into the machine, thinking he could easily replace the line and the broken temperature gauge. He liked when he felt like I was doing something for someone. Providing a service, making things better, righting a wrong. The ones he could right, anyway.
