“The next day, the family woke to discover a window broken in the parlor. Later they found her lifeless body in her childhood bed. She left a note explaining that she’d poisoned herself, but not before putting a curse on her betrothed and all of his male heirs. It doomed them to a lifetime of the same heartache that she had faced. Each of them would fall madly in love, only to have it end in tragedy.”
“Wow.” I glanced over to Nadia, who was still slumped down in the seat, and whispered, “Did you know about—”
She nodded. “Everyone knows about the Comfort curse.”
The Comfort curse?
I wondered if that had anything to do with the Comforts I’d met this morning. Specifically, Billy Comfort and his cocky half-grin.
“Legend has it that she still walks the halls, forever doomed to be a tortured soul.” Stew took a dramatic pause before continuing. “The Abernathys are one of the founding families of Firefly Island. Carlton Abernathy, whose family owned luxury hotels, purchased the island along with two fraternity brothers. Trenton Culpepper, whose father was an oil tycoon, and Benson Montgomery, who was heir to a shipping dynasty. The three attended Harvard together and bought the island to use as a private vacation destination. After graduating, however, the trio decided to move to the island permanently and develop it.”
I tuned out as Stewart continued reciting the history of the town. My mind wandered to the place it had been wandering to all day: Billy Comfort. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve said I was suffering from my own Comfort curse.
From the moment I’d seen that crooked smile, I’d fallen under a spell.
“On your right, you’ll see Firefly Pier, which is home to the tallest Ferris wheel on the East Coast.”
My first thought when I saw it was that I was impressed by its height. My next thought, popping into my head immediately on the heels of the first, was an image of Billy Comfort and me riding on it. He was holding my hand, leaning over and pressing kisses to my cheek, whispering things in my ear.
Third thought? I wondered how many girls and women he’d taken for rides on the attraction.
Stop it, I reprimanded myself.
This was insane. Until just one week ago, I’d had a ring on my left hand. My right forefinger rubbed along the base of my left ring finger. It might be my imagination, but I would’ve sworn that there was still an indention where my engagement ring had been.
Damn. It had been such a long time since I’d been single. Blaine and I had been together for eight years, and engaged for two of those. During all that time, sure, I’d found other men attractive, but I’d never pictured myself taking romantic Ferris wheel rides with anyone…not even Blaine.
Fantasizing and daydreaming had never been the way my brain worked. I was a realist. I always had goals to meet and I worked toward them. I’d never seen the point in wasting energy or mental space on things that weren’t real. Billy Comfort was nothing to me. He was a stranger.
So why can I not stop thinking about this man?
“Coming up on your right you’ll see Firefly Drive-in.”
As we drove past the retro drive-in that backed up to the ocean, again, I imagined how many ladies Billy Comfort had taken there in his truck. Not that I had any idea whether or not he had a truck, but in my fantasy he did.
“We are now entering downtown Firefly. First we’ll see the Arts District, home to the Firefly Opera House, which is known for its ornate vaulted ceilings, intricate metalwork, painted murals, and massive gold-plated dome.”
As soon as we drove into a more populated area, I noticed Nadia slide even lower down. I had to smile to myself. Seeing her this uncomfortable was amusing.
“Musicians from all over the world have performed beneath that dome, everyone from Taylor Swift to Elvis has played on that stage during our annual Firefly Arts Festival.”
Stewie continued waxing poetic about the festival when Nadia reached up and pulled the wire that hung above our heads, signaling that we wanted to get off.
“Thank you, ladies, for riding Firefly Island Trolley Tours. Hope to see you again real soon.”
As soon as the trolley stopped Nadia bolted off of it like her pants were on fire. I waved at Stew before disembarking. “Thank you!”
“Have a great day!” he enthused.
“And thank you.” I threaded my arm through Nadia’s and gave it a squeeze. “I know that was painful for you.”
“It really was.” Her tone was flat, but the corners of her lips were turned up in a grin.
We walked into the Dreamy Bean Coffee & Book Café, and the smell of coffee beans filled the air. The interior was as adorable as the name. There was exposed brick on one wall and a floor-to-ceiling bookcase on another. The counter was wrapped in distressed wood and large pendant lights dangled from the ceiling. We placed our orders and grabbed a small table, settling down on the spindly wrought-iron chairs.
We’d barely sat down when the barista delivered our drinks. I took a sip of the creamy coffee concoction and breathed in a sigh. It was nice to have an oasis of calm and normalcy in the middle of such a crazy day – the will reading behind me, accompanying Cheyenne to Southern Comfort still ahead of me.
“So where are you staying? I told you that you should just stay with me.”
“I know, and I appreciate it, but I don’t want to cramp your style.”
“I wish there was more of a style to cramp.”
I grinned. “I’m staying at Beasley Boarding House.”
“Mrs. B’s?” Nadia’s eyes grew to the size of half dollars. “Why?”
“It’s close to the firm and I don’t have a car. Also, it was the only place I could find that I could book for next week. Everyplace else had no vacancy.” Since the move was so spur of the moment, I planned on staying in temporary housing for the next few weeks while I got to know the area and found something more permanent.
“Oh, right, because of spring break next week. Well, all I can say is you have to try her homemade cinnamon rolls and don’t, under any circumstances, interrupt her weekly Mahjong game.”
“That’s so funny. That is exactly what she said when I checked in.”
My phone buzzed and I looked down. When I saw my mother’s face I put it on silent.
“Is it Blah-Blah-Blaine?”
A smile spread across my face. Nadia had never been a huge fan of Blaine and she’d never been shy about sharing that fact. She’d been with me the night that I met him and had taken an instant dislike to him. When I’d asked her why, she’d said, “He’s just… blah…blah.” Thus Blah-Blah-Blaine had been born.
“No, it’s my mom.”
“What does Tina want?” In contrast to her feelings about Blaine, Nadia absolutely loved my mom. Or at least, she loved being entertained by her.
“Let’s just say that Blaine got my mom in the breakup.”
“Does she know what that cheating bastard did?”
I filled Nadia in on all the sordid details of the past week. All of my mother’s campaigning to get Blaine and I back together, including their joint trip to the wedding planner’s this morning. She was appropriately horrified on my behalf.
We sat and talked and laughed for close to half an hour before she noticed the time and exclaimed, “Crap! I’ve got to get back.”
“Hey, what are you doing tonight? I’m meeting a client at Southern Comfort at six-thirty. Do you want to come?” I asked hopefully.
The truth was, I didn’t want to face Billy Comfort on my own. I was going there to be emotional support for Cheyenne, but I wanted Nadia to be there for me.
Her brows knitted. “To a client meeting?”
“No, it’s not like that. I met with her and her family this morning for a will reading.”
“You handled James Comfort’s will reading?”
I wondered how she knew that, but then remembered her saying things like, “You can’t wipe shit in Firefly without everyone in town knowing what you ate for dinner.”
I’d thought it was crude at the time, and still did. But it did paint a vivid picture.
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
“But you said that you’re meeting her, there are only men in that family.”
“Um,” I didn’t want to breach client confidentiality, but I assumed that she’d find out soon enough that Cheyenne was back in town. “Actually, there’s not only men. Cheyenne Comfort is-”
Recognition dawned on Nadia’s face. “Holy shit! That’s right. Cheyenne. Wow. What happened to her? She went to live with her grandparents or something, right?”
“She did.”
“She was always really sweet. She followed Billy around like a shadow.”
Shadow. That’s what he’d called her in the meeting.
“Shit!” She pouted. “Now, I really wish I could go. I’d love to see her!”
I tried not to let my self-esteem take a hit over the fact that she seemed so much more excited about the idea of going after finding out Cheyenne was going to be there.
“But I can’t, I have a date.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, I met him on Bumble. He’s in marketing. I’m meeting him in Savannah for drinks. I’d cancel but he’s the first guy that I’ve connected with that has a full head of hair, no gym selfies or pictures with instruments, and isn’t an ‘entrepreneur’—which is code for unemployed.”
“Wow. Is it that bad out there?” I’d been out of the dating scene for so long I had no idea what to expect.
“You have no idea. The horror stories I have from online dating would scare Stephen King.”
I nudged her as we made our way out of the café. “Well let’s just hope full-head-of-hair guy meets the bar that Derek set for you all those years ago.”
She laughed and gave me a quick hug. “Yeah, Derek had a whole other kind of ‘full head.’ Anyway, have fun tonight. Tell Kevin I said hi.”
“Who’s Kevin?” I asked as she headed down the street, in the opposite direction I was going.
“You’ll see!”
I’d met all the Comfort brothers and none of them were named Kevin. As intrigued as I was to find out who Kevin was, I had to admit the person I was really interested in seeing was Billy. My hand still tingled from where his lips had pressed. The sensation had to be in my mind, it must be part of the curse that I’d fallen under. Maybe tonight I’d be able to break it.
Or maybe I’d fall even deeper.
CHAPTER 11
Billy
I was happy it was a typical hoppin’ night at Southern Comfort. Gave me no time to think, which was great since thinking was the last thing I wanted to do.
Even though everything was exactly the same as it was on any other night, I couldn’t help but notice that it all felt different. Every time I took an order, it felt different. Every time I poured a drink, it felt different. There wasn’t the usual playful sense of just goofing around with a room full of friends-I-hadn’t-met-yet in my blood. Everything felt heavier, more important.
Pop had been sick for years and he passed several days ago. Why was today the first day that it felt permanent? Was it because hearing the will made my father’s death feel real? Was it because I was now more than just the manager of my father’s bar? Yeah. Even if I’d been pretty much running the damn thing for nearly a decade, I was an owner now, and that changed things.
Or maybe it was the fact that my baby sister, who I’d thought had been lost from my life forever, was suddenly back in it, and I had a million feelings about that all wrapped up in a ball I didn’t have the energy to start untangling.
Honestly, it could’a been any of those, and it would’ve made sense. But, deep down, I knew that it wasn’t. Every time the door opened and my eyes shot over to it like a magnet, I knew the reason I felt different was because I was waiting for Reagan to walk through the door, and every time it opened I thought it might be her.
For several hours I’d been disappointed. But then, like a lightning bolt, my wait was over. The door opened and there she was, her long dark hair framed like a halo by the street light right outside the door.
She wasn’t wearing her designer suit now, and her hair wasn’t in that sexy librarian bun it had been tied up in this morning. But even in a pair of jeans that showed off every womanly curve and her curls falling in soft waves over her shoulders, she stood out like a glamorous, classy beacon. She was a real life Uptown Girl.
“Damn,” I muttered under my breath.
As I looked at that woman, I saw more than just a hot piece of ass or even more rom-com inspired scenes. I saw wedding bells and the porch swing when we were old and gray. I saw my future.
There was a very good chance I was losing my mind from all the changes that’d been going on, because that definitely wasn’t like me.
Reagan spotted me staring at her and gave a little wave and an even littler smile. Hmmm. That wasn’t the kind of reaction I normally got from women. If I was going to make progress with the lady lawyer, I was clearly going to have to work a little harder.
She weaved through the crowded room, and I saw for the first time that Cheyenne was trailing behind her.
When the duo made their way to the bar, my face split into a wide grin as I greeted them. “Hey, there! If it ain’t the two prettiest ladies east of the Mississippi.”
Without even meaning to I slipped deeper into my accent. It wasn’t something I did intentionally; it was a flirting tick. Even women from my neck of the woods who’d heard that Georgia drawl all their lives seemed to find it charming when paired with the one-two punch of the smile. And Yankee girls? Forget about it.
But it didn’t seem to be having the same effect on the lady lawyer. All I was getting from her was a tight smile. I was gonna have to up my game.
“Hey, Billy.” I turned at the small, shy voice coming from my little sister. I barely heard it over the music from the jukebox and people talking and laughing.
Little sister. That phrase sounded foreign, even in my own mind. Yeah. Strange. I’d been so tight with her when we were kids, and I’d missed her so much when our grandparents had taken her to live with them, that I’d pushed down all my feelings and forced myself not to think about her at all. Now that she was back, right here in front of me, it didn’t even feel real. But it did feel good.
“What can I get you, Shadow?” I asked, still using her nickname. Somehow, it seemed more like her to me than her actual name did.
Her eyes widened and became bright when I uttered the words, and her smile got big and friendly. “Jack and Coke, please.”
“Comin’ right up.” I turned to Reagan and made my voice lower, more intimate. “And for you, pretty lady?”
She hesitated a moment but then straightened her shoulders and said simply, “Same.”
As I went to pour the drinks, I couldn’t help but feel a shiver of anticipation rush through me. Hell, she was going to be more than a challenge. She was like an onion, and I’d have to peel her defenses back layer by layer, and damn, was I looking forward to finding out what was underneath. And for the first time in my life, I wanted to take my time and enjoy the process.
As I set the drinks down and Reagan was pulling out her credit card, I covered her hand with mine and leaned forward so I didn’t have to yell. “It’s on the house.”
“No. Really, I can pay.”
“Family doesn’t pay.”
Reagan glanced to Cheyenne then back to me. “I’m not family.”
Yet, I thought.
“The drinks are on the house,” I insisted.
She began digging in her purse again.
Cheyenne and I looked at one another, and then both looked back at Reagan. The look we shared was a knowing one. One we’d shared a hundred times as kids. I couldn’t put into words what we were communicating but we both understood one another.
I rested my hands on the bar and leaned closer to Reagan. “What are you looking for?”
“Cash.”
�
�You are really stubborn, aren’t you?” I observed.
Her head jerked back up. “It was for the tip.”
If she only knew that I’d give up a year’s worth of tips for one smile from her.
“Cheyenne?” Cash’s voice sounded beside me.
I turned and saw my friend looking like he was seeing a ghost. I knew the feeling.
“Hi!” Cheyenne lifted her hand awkwardly, it was clear that she didn’t recognize him.
“Cheyenne this is-”
“Cash!” Her face lit up and she jumped into the air and hurled herself at him. He caught her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Oh my gosh!”
As I watched my baby sister embrace my best friend with open arms, literally, I couldn’t help but feel a little twinge of hurt. Her excitement level hadn’t been near that to see me.
You didn’t even recognize her, jackass, I reminded myself.
“How are you?!” she enthused when she finally released her hold and he set her back down.
He looked almost speechless as he stared down at her. Finally he managed to stutter, “Good…good…”
If I didn’t know any better, I would think there was something going on between those two. But since Cheyenne was all of five when she left, I knew that couldn’t be the case. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something, and I didn’t like it. I was still trying to figure it out when I heard Reagan gasp.
“Is that a pig?” She pointed. “In a bar?”
“Yes it is.”
“Is that legal?”
“What do you mean?”
“To have a pig in the bar? Isn’t there some sort of public health violation?”
“That’s Kevin,” I stated, by way of explanation.
“That’s Kevin?!”
“You’ve heard of him?” I was surprised. She didn’t seem like the type to follow a pig on social media.
“Sort of.” She tilted her head to the side, still not quite sure of what she was seeing.
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