Dark Water: A Siren Novel Read Free

say I’d love nothing more than to be taught by such a skilled expert, to ask if we could make a date as soon as possible … and then I closed it.
    When I was weak, only one thing made me feel better than salt water did, and that was enticing the interest of the opposite sex. But I hadn’t resorted to such measures since doing so cost me the only relationship I ever had, the only one that had ever mattered, and I wasn’t about to start now.
    I didn’t know if there was still a chance for Simon and me. But I did know I wasn’t going to risk losing it if there was.
    “Thanks anyway,” I said.
    And turned around just as the tears started to fall.

C HAPTER 2
 
    “E GGPLANT, BOYSENBERRY, BLUEBERRY PIE.” Paige leaned the paint cards against a napkin dispenser. “What do you think?”
    “I think they all look the same,” I said.
    “Finally.” Louis, the restaurant’s executive chef, came up the stairs and headed toward our table. “A voice of reason.”
    “What do you mean, finally? Reason is how I narrowed it down to these three. You try choosing one perfect color from eight hundred pretty choices.”
    Louis smirked as he placed plates before us. “That’s just one of the many differences between you and me, Miss Paige. I’d never choose from eight hundred pretty choices because the color we have is already perfect.”
    “Gray? Gray’s not perfect. It’s barely even a color.”
    “I disagree. In the right light, it can even look … purple.”
    Paige opened her mouth to argue, then speared a strawberrywith her fork instead. Louis topped off our coffee cups, winked at me, and headed back downstairs.
    “A candy store,” she said when he was gone.
    “Sorry?”
    “That’s what he thinks we’ll look like if—when—we paint the place. He said if we change the color, we should also change the name. To Marchand’s Marshmallows and Other Gooey Goods.”
    I smiled. “It’s not bad.”
    “Except it’s totally inaccurate. We’re a chowder house. We’ve sold fish and clams and lobster for sixty years, and we always will. A new look won’t change that.”
    “You’re right. Ambience matters, but food is most important. Like the regionally famous Sea Witch breakfast platter I’ve been dreaming about for weeks.” I cut into the pancake-wrapped lobster patty.
    Paige was about to bite into a bagel but stopped. I held my full fork in front of my mouth.
    “What?” I asked.
    “That’s not the Sea Witch,” she said, sounding sorry. “I mean, it is—it’s still eggs, lobster, seaweed, and pancake. But it’s now called the Winter Harbor Sunrise.”
    “That’s going to be even harder to get used to than the color change.”
    “I know.” She put down her bagel and picked up the eggplant paint card. “But what can I do? Business is down. Like, ocean-floor down. Grandma B thinks the only way to stay afloatis to try to distance ourselves from last summer as much as possible. And since
Sea Witch
might suggest killer sirens to potential diners … let’s just say it’s a small change that can make a big difference.”
    We weren’t the only people on the employee break deck. In the far left corner, two waiters drank soda and fiddled with their cell phones. In the far right corner, a busboy and dishwasher sipped tea and watched the boats bob on the near-empty harbor. Maybe I imagined it, but at the mention of killer sirens, they all tensed, stilled. I waited for their conversations to resume before leaning toward Paige and lowering my voice.
    “I thought people believed everything that happened last summer was because of the weird weather.”
    It was a lot to expect of residents and visitors, since what happened had never occurred in Winter Harbor before. Like the sudden, isolated storms. The drownings. The icing over of the harbor itself, which up until last July had never frozen—not even in the middle of winter. But as Simon had said then, people believed what they wanted to. And without