by Ellie Hall
Claudia wandered down the hall and past framed photos of her aunt with famous celebrities, mostly musicians—including Elvis Presley, a few of the Beatles, and Aretha Franklin.
Margot was a self-made woman and believed anyone could create the life of their dreams by working hard. She’d made several timely real estate investments, earned millions in the tech boom, and had invested it wisely. She went from being a music club promoter in the sixties to a publicist in the seventies, to an agent in the eighties, and eventually became a consultant in the industry for everything. She was the financial backer for a few websites and blam. Millions more in the bank. Margot was used to fame and divas but didn't take any sass. She certainly didn't grovel, and in an industry where that was often expected, it turned out that her attitude was respected. She was a lady of class and an entrepreneur as well as Claudia’s idol.
Although Claudia grew up around the popular music of her time, she preferred the structure and order of the classical music world and threw herself headfirst into it—even though some of her courses took her back into pop and rock, even country on occasion. Margot may have been able to deal with the many personalities of that subset of the music industry, but Claudia had experienced enough chaos in her life and didn’t want much to do with it.
From somewhere in the house, one of the dogs yapped a few times then went silent. Claudia entered her aunt’s office. Ordinarily, she’d never do so without Margot’s permission, but things had changed and since her aunt was behind on payments—something she had always been on top of—Claudia felt the need to investigate.
As she went through the mail, Claudia’s stomach clenched. Nothing had been paid in at least three months. She logged onto the computer to find some of her aunt’s passwords saved. The bank account was overdrawn. Further investigation proved that her aunt’s financial situation was in a dire state.
Claudia traced through her memory. She’d missed her last visit during spring break because she was busy with work and school, but had last seen her aunt at Christmastime. They spoke weekly on the phone, usually Sunday after church, but the calls had become sporadic. Claudia didn’t think much of it because she was so busy and figured, true to form, Margot was too.
“What happened? Where’s all the money?” she whispered.
Claudia was exhausted but forced herself to go through files and more unopened mail, trying to make sense of it all.
She came across the official documents for her adoption. Her aunt had tried to talk her birth parents into doing the right thing and quickly learned that even money didn’t always get you what you wanted so she fought for custody.
Because of her early life, Claudia was practical. She couldn’t sort out the mysterious disappearance of her aunt’s wealth right then, but she would get to the bottom of it. There was a chance Margot donated it all to a dog rescue—she loved the animals. Considering her mental slips it was possible. Perhaps she made a bad investment or the accounts got mixed up.
Claudia wasn’t sure. But she did know what to do right then. She went into survival mode. She’d done it before. She clicked online to the local paper and found the job listings.
The next day, after spending some time with her aunt, Claudia drove her rental car into town. She’d forgotten parking was limited in Blue Bay Beach since walking was encouraged. She parked nearly as far away as she would’ve had she just gone on foot from Mansion Mile.
She hurried down the quaint street with its pastel shops selling beach gear, a bakery, boutique, and the Sandy Shore Inn.
She practically ran down the dock, jutting into the crystal blue water. A restaurant with a thatched roof was at the very end. It had a patio on the side for outdoor dining. Claudia had waited tables in the past and hoped it would provide enough of an income, combined with her modest savings, to keep her and her aunt afloat until she figured things out.
Claudia waited at the register station and twisted her bulky watch to see the time. It was oversized for her slim wrist, but she refused to take it off unless she was playing the piano and even then, she sometimes left the reminder in place.
The windows of the restaurant opened to the ocean and a gentle breeze wafted the delicious scent of coconut through the air. Claudia took a deep breath, preparing herself.
She perused the menu and her stomach growled. The Coconut Cove Café offered breakfast, lunch, and dinner. A pretty woman with hair that was somewhere between blond and brown hurried into the restaurant. They both waited in silence until a third woman, wearing an apron and a T-shirt with the restaurant’s name, introduced herself. “I’m Billie. I own this place and am looking for summer help. Is that the two of you?” She pointed at Claudia and the other woman.
They started to answer at the same time.
Billie’s sharp eyes seemed to be on them and everything else going on in the restaurant at once. She lifted her hands to stop them from saying more as though she didn’t have time to hear their life stories. “Do you speak English?” she asked.
They both nodded then said, “Yes,” in unison.
“Are you literate?”
Again, they both nodded.
“What’s the greatest movie of all time?”
“Mamma Mia,” the other woman said.
“The Summer House,” Claudia answered. It was her guilty pleasure because it was the perfect romantic movie and every time she watched it, she polished off a whole pint of ice cream.
Billie nodded approvingly. “That’ll do. You’re hired. Can you start now? Betty is here today and she can show you the ropes.” She didn’t wait for an answer but went to the kitchen window and slid a slip on the counter, slapped it, and called, “Order in.”
The next hour was a whirlwind of training from an older woman named Betty with a shock of white hair pulled back in a clip and with bangs. Claudia managed to mess up a few orders. While she was fretting over that, she somehow found herself involved in a new employee initiation led by Betty.
“I’m not looking to date—” She was about to explain the situation with her aunt and how she’d only arrived in town the day before, but Eisley, the other new girl, was thrust onto the floor where she had to ask the next guy she waited on out on a date.
Claudia’s stomach tied itself up. Eisley’s head tipped back and as she looked over her shoulder it was obvious that she was equally stressed about the dare.
Sure, Claudia wanted to find the one—the guy to sweep her off her feet, to understand her, to be a companion, to dream with and create a life together—but she didn’t think she’d meet him in a café.
Chapter 2
Carter
Carter Wilde-Westcott hummed to himself as he slipped down the alley behind the stucco building, ducked behind several cars, and then threw himself behind the bushes at the sound of someone shouting. The midsummer humidity instantly caused his clothing to cling to his skin.
He had nothing but his phone in his hand and as the voice activation robot lady asked if she could help him, he practically smashed the thing on the ground, afraid it would give away his location. But no, it was his lifeline. Actually, lifeline wasn’t the correct term. It was the thing that had gotten him into the mess he found himself in and what he hoped would get him out of it.
No, that wasn’t right either. Although he’d long ago given up on hope, deep down he knew he was the one responsible for his current situation and he had to get himself out of it.
As the voices shouting grew louder, he rushed through the bushes, hoping he didn’t encounter any alligators or crocodiles or whatever it was that lurked in the swamps of southern Florida.
Just as soon as he got clear of the shrubbery, he waited to cross a busy road. He considered thumbing a ride, but he’d be recognized—even with the hat and sunglasses, anyone would identify his voice. He couldn’t afford that.
As he continued to walk, putting what amounted to miles between him and the center, he considered what his lifestyle afforded him, including a yacht, global travel, t
he Ferrari and assortment of other luxury cars, and of course, his houses on six of the seven continents. But the high cost of all of that had been indulging fame and its many falsehoods and trappings. He wasn’t sure that’s what he wanted anymore.
He chuckled darkly at the things he’d done to become the musician known as Wilde. He wasn’t sure that he had enough money to buy back his anonymity, his privacy, and the ability to walk into a town without being swarmed by fans, which inevitably led to the arrival of the paparazzi. But he’d give nearly anything to have that ability again. Behind those thoughts was a question—could he buy back his self-respect? Or was that something he’d have to earn? His parents’ voices chorused in his head, telling him to do the right thing. If only they were still around in real life and not merely shadows in his memory.
As Carter wandered down unfamiliar streets, taking random turns when cars would approach, he got lost in his thoughts. He just wanted a few minutes to himself without the questions, the cameras, and all the noise. Was that too much to ask? He just wanted time with his parents, but that wasn’t going to happen so where did that leave him?
Carter blinked a few times, realizing he was actually lost. But wasn’t that what he wanted? To get away if even for a few minutes? He continued walking toward a thick stretch of woods. He supposed he could go to some remote locale, change his name, and drop off the grid. Then again, the cameras were sure to find him. They always did. He had a way of attracting them even though he’d recently grown tired of the attention.
Years ago, it started with his voice then as he grew into his good looks, the ladies couldn’t stay away. He didn’t mean to become one of the biggest names in music, but he hadn’t avoided it either. There were many points in Carter’s life when he greedily drew attention to himself or went along with what his team suggested—no matter how outlandish—, including agreeing to do the most recent project, which he immediately knew was a step in the wrong direction.
He listened to a lot of the people in his life and as he stood at the edge of the other side of the woods, it was time to start listening to himself and shutting the others out. If he’d done so, maybe he wouldn’t be in his present situation and on the run.
“No, Wilde. You got yourself there just as you got yourself here,” he muttered. It was only when he was actually alone that he found he could truly be honest with himself. Otherwise, it was just his agent, manager, Joey, the publicist, and the many people in his life piling on their advice and opinions, which often turned into pressure. He didn’t want to let anyone down.
It wasn’t that he was ungrateful for all that he’d accomplished in the music industry, but somewhere along the way it had stopped being about music and started being about money.
And somewhere along the way, Carter had gotten lost.
As the backs of several mansions came into view, he wasn’t entirely mad about that. He may not have been able to afford privacy, but he could afford one of the massive estates, which meant he had some leverage in his life where many people did not.
He didn’t want anyone to think he was a burglar so he sauntered around one property and onto the sandy road on the other side.
The bluest, most crystal-clear water filled the horizon. A seagull called from nearby and waves rolled to a white sand shore.
Carter took the deepest breath he could and with it, he drew something into his chest he’d all but abandoned. “This road to ruin hasn't been paving itself and as they say, it has to get worse before it gets better.” But it was hope that flared, suggesting it would get better.
He crossed to a beach and ignored the sign that said private. He kicked off his boots. Feeling the sand between his toes and the warm water lapping his ankles made him feel like a new man. Could someone like him start over? Get a second chance?
It was still early in the day as he walked into the beach town. He passed a church and before continuing on, he stepped inside. The space was quiet and had a reverent feel even though it was empty. He slipped into a pew and dropped to his knees. He hadn’t assumed that position since he’d lost his parents.
It had been decades since he’d been to church with them. Despite his face splashed across magazines, billboards, and the internet, he wasn’t sure they’d recognize their son. But as Carter pressed his palms together, he had the sudden and shocking sense that God knew him. Tears brimmed in his eyes. He exhaled sharply, not ready to feel the welling of emotion. He got to his feet and left the church.
As Carter walked down the main street, he passed Blue Bay Beach Supplies & Souvenirs, Blue and Blond Boutique, and spotted a sign for a breakfast joint called Coconut Cove Café.
He continued on, down a dock, and entered the establishment. A sign indicated that he seat himself so he took a table away from the others. Even before a member of the waitstaff was able to approach him, a family with two teenage girls sat down nearby. Not wanting to risk being spotted, he shifted so his back was to them.
The view out the window was of endless blue ocean that stretched in every direction. It was as though he could get up from his chair and walk and walk and walk on the water forever. Walk away from his troubles. Walk away from his past. A tune came into his mind along with some lyrics and he jotted them on the napkin. Usually, he recorded his ideas into his phone, but he didn’t want someone overhearing him.
But Carter’s thoughts of musical inspiration weren’t enough to distract him from hearing his own name. He stiffened.
“Mom, he’s gone missing,” said a teen girl who was seated at the nearby table.
“Who’s gone missing, honey?”
“Duh. Wilde,” the second girl said.
The mother sighed. “That young man has sure gotten himself in trouble. I’m not so sure I like you listening to his music anymore.”
Carter didn’t like the way that made him feel slimy all over.
“Well, there are rumors that the whole thing about him being sent to a rehab center was fake,” Girl One said.
“If he really had all those problems do you think he’d be able to write and sing such amazing songs?” Girl Two said.
Despite himself, Carter smiled.
“He probably has a team of people writing his music,” the father said.
Carter clenched his fists. He’d written every note, every lyric, and arranged every hit. It was all him. Yes, he had a problem, but it wasn’t with drugs or alcohol as the public had been led to believe.
It was true, he was broken, but when he looked up, an angel stood in front of him. He was sure she was just the person to fix him. She had dark hair, chocolate eyes, a strong jaw, and legs for days. But what he noticed the most were her slender fingers holding the order pad and pen.
She glanced over her shoulder then swallowed. “Hi, can I take your order?”
Panic seized him as he worried that she recognized him. As the seconds passed, if that were the case, she’d be screaming, crying, giggling nervously, or asking for his autograph or to bear his child—it had happened often enough.
Instead, she shifted from foot to foot as though uncomfortable or irritated.
“Something to drink?” she said when he didn’t answer. She had the cutest gap in her two front teeth, but she didn’t smile.
Carter cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. I’d like to order a Pina Colada.” He tried to disguise his accent to sound southern. It sounded terrible and would’ve passed had he been out all night then washed up on the shore. Close enough to the truth. “You can add some rum while you’re at it,” he added.
She cocked her hip. “I’m sorry we don’t serve that.” She twisted the oversized, man’s watch on her wrist. “Also, it’s seven in the morning.”
A smile played on Carter’s lips. Women threw themselves at him and often he was happy to catch them, but rarely were they not interested. Even rarer was there a time when he was truly enamored—yeah, that was the right word. The waitress captivated him with her alert brown eyes, perfect nose, and those lips. Oh, those lip
s.
“If you look here, we have an assortment of breakfast items.” She leaned over him and her cascade of hair tickled his cheek as she pointed at the menu.
He smiled.
“We have a Pina Colado. It’s a smoothie that has pineapple, coconut, and avocado, hence the Colodo like avocado.”
“Is it like a milkshake? I could go for one of those.”
She planted her hand on her hip. “There’s a place up the beach for milkshakes, but they’re not open yet.”
“I was just teasing. I’ll take the smoothie and try to be healthy for once.” He closed the menu. He was going to ask her for her number and add it to the lyrics on his napkin.
She blurted, “Thank you. Also, uh, well, I’m supposed to ask if you’d like to go on a date.” Her cheeks burned bright red.
Chapter 3
Claudia
Once the question was out about asking the customer on the date, Claudia couldn’t stop rambling as her cheeks grew warmer and warmer. “It’s just this silly dare here at the restaurant. Last month Eisley had to go out with the first customer she waited on and now they’re getting married and, well, it’s my turn so don’t worry if it’s a no. I just had to do it so I’ll be back with your order in a jiffy.”
Jiffy? Who used the word jiffy?
Sweat pierced her hairline. Even with the ocean breeze, the air was still humid and seeing as she’d never asked a guy out before, it felt extra thick.
As she rushed to the kitchen to put in the guy’s order, she tried to take deep breaths.
“You passed the test,” said Betty, her coworker and the grand-master instigator of the whole dating dare.
“Does that mean I don’t have to actually go on a date with him?” Desperation entered her tone.
“Of course you do. Those are the rules. Eisley did and now it’s your turn.” Betty smiled mischievously.