by Anne Harper
He made no move to pull out a camera and instead looked like a man bracing himself against an oncoming storm.
Nell knew it was because of her earlier outburst and could admit to herself that if she hadn’t enjoyed her time with Quinn, she might have gone in for round two.
Yet she had enjoyed herself, and now she wanted to end her run at the restaurant on a better note than when she’d started it.
“Well, who are we to say no to tradition?” Nell looked up to her makeshift companion and was surprised to see him grinning.
“I won’t be the one to break it,” Quinn agreed.
Timmy looked equally surprised, but he didn’t let that stop him. He grabbed one of the new, smaller Polaroid cameras from behind his podium and motioned to the wall next to the board. A burst of nerves caught Nell off guard. Even more so when those nerves turned into giddiness. Among many things that day, she hadn’t expected that. The matter wasn’t helped when Timmy looked hesitant again once they’d taken their place.
“I need you two to get closer so you’re both in the frame.”
Quinn followed directions with precision. One second there was space between them, the next there was none. His arm went around her shoulders but his face was filled with concern.
“Is this okay?”
Nell couldn’t help but laugh. She nodded.
She might not have known Quinn, but she did like him. However that made sense.
“I think we could get away with a little more,” she said. “Just to show Valentine’s Day that it can’t beat us.”
Nell angled her body so she could push up on her tiptoes and reach his lips. Half of the board next to them was filled with chaste-kissing couples, so why not them? Why not give the man who had saved her on the most embarrassing day of her life a small token of her gratitude?
She meant the impulsive move to be subtle. A quick kiss for the camera. Something that was polite and restrained and, dare she think it, cute.
But she was finding that Valentine’s Day had a way of being tricky.
The moment Quinn lowered his chin so their height difference wouldn’t keep them apart, Nell knew she was a goner. There was nothing quick or cute about the lip-lock that followed.
Warm. Strong.
Hungry.
Nell went from an intention of having a fleeting kiss to wishing it wouldn’t end.
And, as far as she could tell, the feeling seemed to be mutual.
Quinn returned the kiss and then some, turning his body to hers and dropping his hand to her waist like an anchor.
Which was good because the deeper their kiss went, the more Nell felt like she was drifting.
When was the last time she’d been kissed like this?
When was the last time her stomach had become swarmed with the feeling of honest to goodness butterflies?
When had—
“Ahem. It’s done.” Timmy’s voice came in quiet but clear. “I took the picture, I mean.”
Quinn was the first to detangle. He seemed to need a breath but then cleared his throat and nodded.
“Good. Good.”
Nell was less graceful. She made a noise that was born from somewhere between agreement and the need to get her bearings. Since Timmy had the more solid footing in the situation, he didn’t struggle to hand Nell the first picture. Though he did stop before giving Quinn the second one.
“Usually we put the second one on the board, but if you want it instead—”
Quinn shook his head.
Quick and with feeling.
“I don’t need it. Thanks.”
Timmy’s eyes widened. Then he shared a look with Nell.
She didn’t like the pity in it.
Just like she didn’t like the sting Quinn’s quick rejection had created.
“Oh, okay. I’ll put it on the board then.”
Timmy was gone in a flash. Quinn didn’t wait around. He led them out of the restaurant while Nell pocketed her picture. Maybe she should have just thrown it away in front of the man instead. Or spit on it and then dumped it.
Or you can admit that this man was just being polite and you might be feeling something for him only because your day has been the absolute pits.
“Well, I hope you get your purse back soon so you’re not forced to eat mashed potatoes with strangers off the interstate again,” Quinn said, stopping outside of the restaurant. The rain had let up and was replaced by a blanket of humidity. It made Nell’s skin sticky and the idea of her car’s AC that much more desirable.
“And I hope you find someone who doesn’t mind your horrible red flags,” she shot back, trying to stay light despite the butterflies in her stomach still fluttering around. “You know, I mean the whole social media and hating tech thing when I say horrible.”
Quinn didn’t boom with laughter like he’d done during their meal, but he did give a small chuckle. Now that they were standing, their height difference was as blaring as a freight train’s horn. Nell had to look up to meet his gaze.
And that gaze appeared completely done with her.
“Well, goodbye then,” Quinn said without hesitation. “Travel safe.”
Nell opened and closed her mouth. She’d expected more or, at least, hoped for it.
This is why you’re done with men, she reminded herself. They’re wild and they make you wild trying to figure them out.
“You too.”
She smiled back, ever polite, and just like that they parted ways. Nell settled behind the steering wheel of her seen-better-days Maxima and watched the U-Haul pull away. She waited a while before following suit. The two teens who had recorded her inside the restaurant made it to their much nicer car as she was exiting the lot. Nell had half a mind to roll her window down and tell them they better delete whatever video and pictures they’d taken of her but took a look at the Polaroid still developing in her hand. She decided not to say a word.
It was time to go home.
It was time to go back to the real world.
Plus, how much damage could two teens with smartphones really do?
Chapter Two
“Well, shit.”
A week later and Nell was picking invisible lint off her slacks and staring through the Main Street Café’s display windows, trying to decide if coffee was worth giving her soul up to the Monday morning masses.
It was seven fifteen and Louie Crowder and his lady friend were standing sentry on the sidewalk outside, him in front of the left side of the door, her on the right. Their sexual tension was palpable. The only thing stronger than it was Louie’s perpetual fear of being rejected, since Mandy had left him for his ex-best friend.
Such a cluster.
But a well-known cluster, just like every piece of news in the small Alabama town of Arbor Bay.
You knew one person, you knew the love, work, and personal lives of many.
A math equation that was slightly entertaining when the new gossip wasn’t about you. However, when it was?
Well, that was wholly inconvenient.
It was why Nell was wavering between braving the small room filled with familiar faces for some coffee or starting the car back up and taking her chances with the awful coffeemaker at work.
Because, as she’d found out the week before, two teens with smartphones absolutely could do a lot of damage.
More specifically, post the video of her rant online on Valentine’s Day.
Where it then went viral.
Even now Nell was caught between annoyance and utter embarrassment. When she’d first found out and gone on an online stroll, it had taken her double the time to read the posts that had actually come up. Mainly because every time she’d gone in to read a line, she’d danced away from her laptop while singing choruses of “oh no oh no oh no” and “it’s all a bad dream.”
&
nbsp; It was the annoying side of the fallout that had kept her from running away and never coming back. Rebutting “thirsty” strangers on the internet had become a quick sport for her since the news had dropped. Nell had so many dick pics in her various social media inboxes that she felt like she was on the cusp of becoming a walking, talking mobile porn site. Never mind the men and women telling her that they’d be “the one” for her.
“You just haven’t met me yet.”
Nell had rolled her eyes at the first message she’d gotten like that.
Then had to stop before she got permanent damage after one message turned into hundreds. Annoyance or not, she wasn’t Wonder Woman. She couldn’t stop every bad man and woman from sending eggplant emojis and nudes.
It was only the supportive and “I second everything you said” comments that kept Nell from scrubbing every part of herself from the internet.
She might not be Internet Wonder Woman, but the idea that her mess could be helping someone come to terms with their own was oddly cheering.
The only place in person or online where she didn’t catch a heap of attention since the video had lit up the metaphorical atmosphere was at her job.
Which she was going to be late for if she just kept sitting in her car, thinking about coffee.
“Screw it.”
Nell threw open her car door and pulled her giant purse out along with her. If worse came to worst, she’d use it to escape.
Because the internet wasn’t her biggest problem with going viral.
What was?
Her stupid, lovable, intrusive hometown.
“God give me strength.”
A half hour later and God clearly wasn’t listening.
Nell grumbled all the way until she saw a small wooden sign that made her smile.
Heart in Hand Rentals was one of two businesses on Love Street, the names a happy coincidence, and one of Nell’s favorite places in the entire world. A laughable admission, according to her siblings, but there was just something about the building that made her feel all warm and fuzzy when she saw it.
One story, brick-wrapped, royal blue shutters, and a smattering of flowers and greenery that surrounded the lot and that wasn’t even covering the woods that backed up to the yard space. Sometimes for lunch the main trio of Heart in Hand would walk the trail between the trees for a few minutes to find themselves at the bay.
It was nice.
Cozy and familiar.
What wasn’t familiar was the shiny new SUV with a rental sticker on the bumper parked on the gravel out front. Not unusual, though. Heart in Hand dealt in cabin and house rentals throughout the county. That meant sometimes people swung in to talk about a current property or interest in one. Still, Nell did the whole sneaky peek through the window as she walked by, looking for a clue as to who had driven it.
Not the nicest thing to do, but it was hard not to be nosy in the South.
So sue her.
Heart in Hand had a side door that led to a small, private patio for employees just off the corner of the building, but Nell decided to go through the front since it was Monday. Tally always had some kind of yummy confection she’d made over the weekend on her desk on Mondays and if Nell went in the front, she had a better chance of snagging more than one of whatever it was. So Nell popped her purse strap back onto her shoulder, gripped her coffee cup, and opened the front door, already hoping for a pecan square.
What she got instead was a taste of excitement.
Tally, God-given name Tallahassee, Ardent was hovering just inside the front door, green eyes alight and bright pink lipstick curving up at the corners with a smile that was bursting at the seams.
“Mornin’, Tally,” Nell greeted, stopping in her tracks.
Tally might have been the same age as Nell, but the way she started giggling was like they were back in middle school again. When she spoke, she whispered.
“Did you know that the new guy was coming in this week? As in he’s already here now?”
Nell felt her eyebrow arch high.
“What do you mean new guy? Ron’s replacement?”
Heart in Hand was started by the patriarch of the Robertson family, the richest and most popular family in Arbor Bay, after a similar venture had earned him a good amount up north. He’d appointed Ron James to oversee everything, since the rich rarely seemed to be all about micromanaging, but then Ron had gone and fallen in love with a guest and dropped everything to go have a life with her. Which was quite the scandal, considering both Ron and the woman were married at the time. To other people. Since his departure two months ago, there had been some hoopla that had fallen down on Heart in Hand for it. And on Nell. Partly because she was Ron’s right-hand woman but mostly because she was the only one who had known about the affair before it went public.
Though, to be fair, she was a day away from spilling the beans, but Ron and his new love had skedaddled before she could do so. That hadn’t sat well with their big boss.
“The town is out there picking sides and, no matter which they’re picking, Heart in Hand is taking heat,” he’d told her the week after Ron left. “So I’m bringing in someone to help get us back on track and as far away from scandal as possible.”
Nell had bitten her tongue, only because the big boss rarely micromanaged. She’d decided to dazzle him instead by running Heart in Hand to the best of her abilities in the interim. To show him that he could—and should—make her dream come true… To make her the new manager of Heart in Hand. She deserved the job full-time.
But now?
Now that determination changed quickly into frustration.
She should have told Donavon Robertson instead of telling her shampoo and conditioner bottles that she’d proven herself and wanted the job. That scandal and gossip wasn’t about to hit Heart in Hand for the second time.
But she was sure having a video of herself go viral definitely hadn’t helped.
“I’ve heard absolutely nothing about the new guy,” Nell whispered back. “Only that he isn’t local.”
She peered around Tally’s shoulder, but the layout of Heart in Hand was awful for peeping. After going through the entryway, you ran into an open room with two desks in the middle and one tucked into the back corner. Those belonged to Nell, Tally, and Jones. The door behind the main two desks led to the kitchen and then the one next to it to a hallway. That hallway ran past a storage room, a bathroom, a filing room, and up to the boss’s office.
Which meant if the new guy wasn’t in the main room, then peeping was useless.
Nell checked her watch and dropped a little curse.
“I shouldn’t have gone for coffee. Not even a step inside the café and Marge was all over me about how she had a YouTube channel. I had to actually tell her I was in a hurry just to get her to finish making my drink. And now I’m fifteen dang minutes late the day the new guy finally shows.”
Tally was a zero-confrontation person; she wilted the second someone raised their voice an inch. At the mention of being late, she shifted her gaze and shrugged in a squirmy way.
“He is a bit of a stickler, I think. Asked about you already, too.”
Nell groaned and finally stepped around Tally the Gossiping Wall. She put her coffee on her desk and dropped her purse by the chair, all the while pulling up her customer service smile.
“He’s in the office?” she asked before leading the charge.
Tally nodded. Then she blushed.
“And he’s really good-looking.”
Nell held up her hand in a Stop motion.
“But he’s still a man,” she said to her friend. “And what are we doing right now?”
Tally, also recently single, sighed, defeated.
“Shunning them because we’re better off.”
Nell nodded and went to the hallway.
�
�You’re damn straight we are.”
Nell walked that confident line right into the hallway and across the hardwood floor. She didn’t need to date a man, to lust over a man, or anything remotely related. The only thing she was going to do now was introduce herself and try to decide when she’d eventually rise up enough to take his job. The how would be the direct result of finally securing their biggest account to date—Dweller’s Cove and the owner, Mrs. McMurray.
Nell didn’t quite know her plan as she peered ahead through the open office door, but she was going to do something.
Though, in retrospect, any plan would have been thrown plum out the window.
Instead of seeing some crotchety old man who was besties with the owner, she had a straight sightline to a man who had several arresting qualities.
A man she never thought she’d see again.
“Holy biscuits, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
…
Quinn Hannigan hated technology.
His rental vehicle had a screen in the dash and a digital prompt that had asked him to pair his smartphone with it so he could use the maps feature, make hands-free calls, and even play his Pandora or Spotify music. Not that he knew which either was. He hated the internet, mostly, and every trend it spit out he made a point to try and miss.
He was a tactile man. Physical touch and going through motions were his bread and butter. Instead of connecting to the online world to hear the Counting Crows’ greatest hits, he’d rather throw the CD in the player and go about his day.
Something he had been prepared to do before he got into the SUV to start his final drive from Asheville, North Carolina, to Arbor Bay. He’d made sure to pull his trusty CD collection from a moving box to keep him company on the road but, wouldn’t you know it, his shiny new rental didn’t even have a CD player.
“A lot of vehicles now just connect everything through Bluetooth,” Roger the car rental desk jockey had said when Quinn complained. “To be honest, you’re the first person to ever comment on it here.”
So Quinn had started his road trip with a grumble and was forced to listen to the radio instead. It put him in a foul mood. One that only soured further after every new hour on the road. His only break from the blanket annoyance came from his thoughts sticking to the last time he’d taken the same road trip.