by Grace Palmer
“I’d love that.” Sam laid a hand over Stella’s and squeezed. “The town would be better with you in it.”
“What if we broke up?”
His eyes sparkled and his eyebrows lifted. “Does that mean we are dating?”
Stella blushed, feeling like a high schooler. “Well, yes. I thought so.”
“Me too. I think so, too. We are definitely dating.” Sam raised his hand for the waitress and ordered another plate of cannolis in celebration.
They were halfway through their second cannolis when Stella redirected the conversation back to the topic at hand. “You never answered my question. About what would happen if we broke up. Would you be okay with me living here? Would things be strange? I have a feeling we’d have a lot of the same friends, and I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Sam licked the cream from one of his fingers and let out a long sigh. “Since we only started officially dating five minutes ago, I’m hesitant to make plans for when we break up, but I’d like to believe the two of us are mature enough to handle that situation should it ever arise.”
“You threw me over your shoulder and carried me here. Are you sure we’re that mature?” Stella gave him a small smile.
“I’m positive. Besides, I’m not territorial. I can’t control who lives in this town. Separate from the conversation of you and me—us—if you want to live here in Willow Beach, you should. If that is what would make you happy, that is what I want for you. Having you closer would simply be a tremendous plus.”
Did Stella want to move? Quit her job? Was she ready to start over entirely after only a few days in Willow Beach?
Security had been the name of the game as a single mom. Stella’s life revolved around order and schedules and managing expectations for Jace and herself. She stayed in a job she wasn’t passionate about because she made good money. She lived in a house she didn’t love because she could afford the down payment, and it was in a good school district.
Now, she had the opportunity to make her life what she wanted, free of any obligations to anyone else, and as crazy as it seemed, Stella wanted this.
When her phone buzzed and Stella saw Brenda’s name flash on the screen, she thought it must be reality coming to call her home. As someone who didn’t believe in signs, she couldn’t help but think this was one. The moment she began pulling away from her old life, her old life came knocking.
This time it was a text message, not a phone call. Stella opened it and skimmed the long message.
* * *
Brenda: Seriously, Stella, call me back ASAP. Mark has been a loose cannon all day. After lunch, he called an unscheduled meeting in fifteen minutes and announced James is going to take over the Australia project for you. During the meeting, Mark said, AND I QUOTE, “James has been a devoted employee for many years, and I’m excited to see what he does with this new leadership position.” If you don’t clear things up, you’re going to lose the promotion. And James has only been here for five years. Half as long as you! Half as long as me, too! It was a real slap in the face. But come back, please. Without our lunchtime vent sessions about Mark, I feel like I’m going to explode with rage. Miss you. Call me. NOW.
* * *
“Is everything okay?” Sam asked after Stella had been quiet for a while, reading the message twice.
She put her phone back in her purse and smiled. “Yeah, it’s fine. I just lost a promotion at work.”
His mouth gaped, clearly unsure what to say. “I’m sorry. That’s terrible. You found out in a text message? That doesn’t seem very professional. What a horrible way to learn—”
“It’s fine,” Stella repeated, truly meaning it. “I don’t even care. I’ve been working for that promotion for over a year, and…I don’t even care. At all. Actually, I’m relieved.”
Sam’s expression was hesitant, not sure whether she was being honest or having a mental breakdown, and truthfully, Stella didn’t know herself. She should have been upset or angry or disappointed, at least, but she felt like a weight had been taken off of her shoulders. She felt like she was free.
Stella smiled at Sam and shoved the other half of her cannoli in her mouth. “I’m gwan kuwit.”
Sam chuckled. “I didn’t catch that.”
She swallowed and repeated, “I’m going to quit. Tomorrow.”
“Are you sure? I know we’ve made a lot of proclamations here tonight, but I won’t hold you to any of them, Stella. I don’t want you to make any rash decisions because of me. I’d hate it if you came to regret them.”
“This isn’t about you at all. Maybe you helped facilitate some of the revelations I’ve had the last few days, but I’m not making this decision for you. I’m doing it for me.” Stella walked her fingers across the fabric tablecloth as she thought, trying to find the right words. “It’s kind of like what you said about wanting me, but not needing me. About being content enough that you are happy, either way. Well, no matter what happens between us, I know I won’t regret quitting my job. It has never made me happy. Even the promotion wouldn’t have made me happy. I’m ready for a new adventure.”
Sam sat back, his lower lip pulled down and his chin dimpled in a look that told Stella he was impressed. “Well, Ms. Stella Pierce, do you have any idea what that adventure might be?”
“Long-term?” she asked. “Not a clue. But tonight? I’m hoping it includes a cannoli for the road and a decaf coconut brûlée latte from The Roast.”
Sam grabbed her hand from the table and leaned over to kiss her knuckles like a medieval knight. “That, I can do.”
18
Georgia was in the sitting room off the lobby when Stella got back to the inn that evening.
Stella and Sam had sat in his truck for a long time after she was supposed to go inside, talking about his childhood growing up on the rocky beaches outside Willow Beach, the time Stella took a toddler Jace to the public pool and they had to drain the entire pool after he pooped, and a thousand other little things that made up the fabric of their lives.
Then, for a while, they didn’t talk at all. Kissing took the place of conversation.
Stella practically floated into the inn, and she was so distracted that Georgia had to yell her name before she heard her.
“I take it you and Sam talked things through?” Georgia asked with a smirk.
“We did.” It felt like days since Stella had walked back to the inn, angry with Sam about having lied to her. Though, she remembered what Sam had said on the steps and realized not all of her questions were answered. “When Sam called you the first night I came into town, what did he say?”
Georgia’s eyes lit up, but she kept her expression neutral. “He said Drew was heading to the inn with a woman who’d had a hard day and that I should treat her well.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
“He didn’t tell you to take me anywhere specifically or try to set us up?” Stella asked. “Because you definitely tried to set us up. You and Alma pushed us together on the dance floor.”
Georgia set aside the book she was reading. “He didn’t have to ask. I’ve known Sam a long time, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.”
Stella’s heart warmed, the heat radiating out from her center, flooding her limbs.
“You may not have noticed him right away when we walked into the Duke Saloon that night, but I did,” Georgia said. “He sat up straighter, and try as he might, he couldn’t keep his eyes from straying towards where we were sitting. Plus, Sam has sent a lot of tourists my way who have broken down on the road, and never once has he called to tell me to take extra care of them. I knew there was something special about you, and he was right.”
It felt like a dream. Like a fairy tale. Stella couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that all of this was real. That Sam was real.
She sat down on the sofa next to Georgia and let out a half sigh, half laugh.
“What?” Georgia sq
ueezed her shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”
It had been a night for honesty, so Stella didn’t hold back. “I’m thinking you can’t fall for someone in four days. I’m thinking you can’t rearrange your life after one weekend trip. I’m thinking that I might be the craziest person in the world.”
“You can. You can. And maybe.”
“Hey!”
“Well, you might be the craziest person in the world. Who can really say?” Georgia laughed. “As an adult in a free country, you can do whatever you want, so long as it is legal or you are willing to suffer the consequences. Whether you should or not is a different story.”
“How do I know if I should?” Stella asked.
At that, Georgia’s smile slipped, and she became more contemplative. Her mouth twisted to the side in thought, and she took a few beats to consider her words before she spoke.
“I was married to a man who fell for someone else and rearranged his entire life,” she said. “It didn’t happen over the course of a weekend, but it might as well have, as prepared as I was for it. I was angry with Richard—I’m still angry with him, depending on the day—but after months of sitting with the consequences of what he has done, I’ve come to realize that he must not have thought very highly of me if he was willing to hurt me that badly.”
“Oh, Georgia,” Stella started. “That’s not true. You’re—”
“Wonderful and kind and very attractive,” Georgia finished, grinning as she gave an exaggerated model pose. “I’ve learned to separate my worth from what he did.”
“Good. Because you’re amazing.”
Georgia wrinkled her nose in a smile and continued. “I think there’s a lot to learn from Richard’s mistakes, but the biggest one is this: if the people you’re closest to in the world would feel betrayed and hurt and devastated by what you are planning to do, then you probably shouldn’t do it.”
Stella nodded. “That’s a good rule of thumb.”
“And if your actions wouldn’t hurt anybody and would make you happier, then I think there’s no reason not to do it.” Georgia grabbed Stella’s hand and looked into her eyes. “And if your action would actually improve people’s lives—say, the lives of the people of Willow Beach because they would gain a new friend and neighbor—then I certainly think you should do it.”
“How did you know I was thinking about moving here?”
“I didn’t, but I hoped!” Georgia pulled Stella in for a tight hug. “That’s amazing.”
“What’s amazing?”
Both women looked up and saw Melanie standing in the doorway, a cardboard box tucked under her arm.
“What are you doing here, darling? It’s late.”
“You said you wanted some treats for the guests with pets, so I brought you some organic doggie biscuits I had stored in my apartment. I’m trying to clean the place out a bit.” Melanie set the box on the coffee table and dropped down into the chair opposite the sofa with a sigh. “Now, what’s amazing?”
“Stella is considering moving to Willow Beach.” As soon as Georgia spoke, she clapped a hand over her mouth and turned to Stella. “I’m sorry. Maybe I’m not supposed to be blabbering about someone else’s business.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s not a secret. Just a bit too early for any definitive plans,” Stella said. “I don’t even have a place to live.”
At that, Melanie sat up, her eyes wide. “Yes, you do. I mean, if you want it.”
“Want what?” Georgia asked.
“My apartment. You can live there if you want. I own the unit, so you could rent it from me or buy it outright. It’s right off Main Street and walking distance from all of the shops and the beach. It’s the perfect size for one person.”
Stella frowned and looked from Melanie to Georgia. “But don’t you live there?”
Melanie froze, glancing towards her mom, and then winced. “Actually, no. Well, not starting next week. I planned to make a more formal announcement, but I’m moving in with Colin.”
Georgia gasped and clapped her hands. “Melanie? What? When? Why?”
Melanie smiled, the expression making her look so much like her mother. “I’m moving in with Colin next week because last night…he proposed.”
There was a flash of movement, and Georgia was across the room with her arms thrown around Melanie. “Honey, that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you. You two are a beautiful couple. You deserve this.”
Stella had just met all of these people, but her eyes brimmed with tears. From what she could tell, Melanie really did deserve it.
Once the excitement settled down and Melanie had walked them through the proposal story three times—Colin had tied a bandana around Bandit’s neck that said “Will you marry me?”—they turned towards the logistics of it all.
“I haven’t even begun the process of selling my house back home,” Stella said. “I have no idea when I could move in. I don’t even have a job here.”
“I can hold the apartment for you for as long as you need. I think Drew or Tasha might want to crash there in the meantime, anyway.”
“No, Tasha just rented out a studio with a loft above it downtown,” Georgia said.
“Oh yeah, for her actor’s studio! She told me last week she already has a waitlist.” Melanie snapped her fingers. “Which reminds me, Stella. You’re a graphic artist, right? Tasha needs a logo done for her business, and I told her she could probably hire you.”
“Tasha’s going to be an acting coach? That’s amazing. Sure, I’d love to help.”
“She’d pay you,” Melanie clarified. “It wouldn’t be just a favor. You said you didn’t have a job yet, so you should definitely charge.”
“One freelance job isn’t a career.”
“It could be! Just last month, I had three different freelancers stay at the inn. They find jobs online and then can work from anywhere.” Georgia shrugged. “It could be worth looking into. Graphic design is a very in-demand skill.”
“Drew has been doing freelance journalism. He can help you set up a profile on one of the sites he uses!”
The Baldwins were being helpful, and Stella was grateful, but she was also overwhelmed. This was all happening much faster than she intended. Only a few hours ago, she’d talked to Jace on the phone and he’d asked her to consider something. Now, suddenly, everything was changing. Stella needed a minute to let it process.
She was full on cannolis and the latte Sam bought her, so Stella turned down Georgia’s offer of a late-night dinner and went up to bed, leaving the two women to gush over Melanie’s recent proposal.
Just before crawling beneath the covers, she checked her phone to see two more missed texts from Brenda, both of them entreating Stella to call her or Mark or someone to save her job. In response, she sent back one short message: “It’s okay. I’m going to quit.”
No matter what happened next, Stella knew she wanted something else for her life. Whether that was freelancing or Willow Beach or not, it was time for a new adventure.
But before the adventure could start, she needed eight solid hours of sleep.
At breakfast the next morning, the Baldwins laid out their plan.
Melanie had hung Stella’s painting from the other day in the office, and she’d already had five people ask about the artist. “There’s a huge market for artwork around here because of all of the tourists. It’s a constant rotation of new clients. I would hang your stuff in the vet clinic, but if you could get a few pieces hung at The Roast and the Duke Saloon and other places around town too, that would be a great source of secondary income.”
Primary income, according to Drew, would come from the internet. “As long as you have a computer and the software necessary, you can apply for any of these graphic design jobs on the job boards. You can work as a freelancer or apply for a remote position with a company. The opportunities are endless.”
“And Alma has been talking to the mayor about updating the town’s website and rebranding with new si
gns for Main Street and historical site markers for the tourists to see. She is finally making some headway, and I’m sure she’d love to throw your name in the ring for the opportunity if you’d like to take it.” Georgia nudged Stella with her elbow, eyebrows wagging. “If nothing else, with Tasha and Drew moving on, I’ll be short-staffed around here. If you don’t mind cleaning toilets and making beds, you’ll always have a job here at the inn, no matter how temporary.”
In so many ways, it felt like everything was falling into place. Stella could have an apartment and a score of freelance jobs as soon as she wanted them, it seemed. None of it seemed possible, though, until she talked to Jace again.
When Stella said as much, the Baldwins respected her wishes and scurried away, though Stella could see them huddled over the island in the kitchen, clearly plotting and scheming to make sure Stella’s move to Willow Beach could go as smoothly as possible.
Stella really did love them. They were genuinely good people, and she felt lucky to know them.
Once she finished her muffin, she grabbed her coffee cup and relocated to the front porch. It was early, but she dialed Jace’s number. He answered, his voice thick with sleep.
“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”
“No, no. Well, yes, but I don’t mind. I should probably get up anyway. I have class in an hour.” He yawned. “What’s up?”
“You know how you told me to consider something yesterday?”
“Yes. Have you?”
“I’ve done a little more than that,” Stella admitted. “I might be planning to quit my job, sell my house, and become a freelance designer who lives near the beach.”
“Wow. That’s something all right.”
Stella gripped the handle of her mug tightly, suddenly nervous. “Is it too much? Am I being crazy? I talked with Sam last night, and he explained everything. He seems to really like me—”