by Taylor Hart
“Do you like him?”
Charlotte jolted out of her thoughts. “No.”
Star moved to the front of the store and threw herself dramatically onto the floral-printed couch in the waiting area at the front of the store. A light grunt followed. “Man, he looked disappointed.”
Charlotte tried to shake the desperate way he’d looked at her.
“C’mon, Charlotte, don’t you miss it? That feeling?”
Charlotte picked up the other empty inventory boxes and hucked them to the back of the store. They were out of the customers’ sight and that would have to be enough for now. “What feeling?”
Star closed her eyes, rolling her head to the side. “You know. That feeling when you see a guy for the first time and there’s like this surge between you.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “There was no surge.”
“I wasn’t talking about Joe.”
The stacks of books on the shelves they’d been adding books to were messy and Charlotte quickly busied herself with straightening. She didn’t like to think about that feeling. Or any feelings. “No.”
Star sighed, a long, dramatic sigh. “Char, come on. I’m not talking about Barbie’s Ken doll, either.”
Charlotte usually tried to think about Nathan as little as possible. In the last few minutes his name had come up an unseasonable amount of times. She did smile at Star’s pet name for him; she’d said she liked to call him that because he was such a fake. “I do not need or want a man, and I certainly don’t need that feeling. Feelings don’t pay the bills. I don’t have time for them.” And the deal she had with her ex was that she would pay her own bills, but she would get full custody of Sam and none of her ex's fortune. She’d been fine with that, even if it meant sacrifice and hard work. She liked hard work.
Star sighed. “You can't shield yourself from pain.”
“I’m not shielding myself.”
“You can’t shield Sam either. He sees what his father is.”
Even though it was the truth, it stung more than Charlotte wanted to admit. She moved behind the cash register and picked up a towel to wipe the glass case that held all the pastries. “Sam has had a hard time.”
“You've been trying to shield people from pain your whole life. Don't you think it's time to just be honest with yourself?”
Charlotte jerked the towel across the glass. “What? Honest about screwing up? Okay, I screwed up. I screwed everything up.”
Star cocked her head to the side. “Do you ever wish you would have just told him?”
Charlotte was not having this conversation. “No.”
“I didn’t mean—”
Charlotte moved systematically around the glass. “Yes, that's exactly what you meant."
“I’m sorry.” Star said it quick, like it would quit hurting because she said it fast.
Charlotte shrugged. She knew Star loved her and didn’t intend to tick her off. Her friend did have one thing that would always make Charlotte forgive her. There were countless times she’d taken refuge at the inn, and Star had hidden her away from Nathan. Charlotte would always owe her for that. She tried to smile. “It doesn’t matter. It's not like anyone can change it. Plus, I'm better off without a man. Any man.”
Star let out a soft wail. “I know. I know. I just—”
“What?
“Everyone needs a happily ever after.”
Charlotte softened. “It’s not in the cards for me. In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s not an abundance of Prince Charmings.”
Star blew out a breath. “Man, I think we just need to focus on something that’s not serious and lawful. We need to focus on just having a good time. Why don’t you come to Charleston with Angela and me tomorrow night for a girl’s weekend? We’re going dancing. You can let your mom take Sam. She’s always telling me to take you out of town, anyway. I could even tell my date to find you a date.”
Charlotte didn’t have time for this. Really, she didn’t have time for much. In fact, she had to go get Sam right now. She looked at the clock. “You know my mother would never allow me to miss her Halloween party.”
“Right.” Star shook out her hair with her fingers. “Hmm.”
“But I would love to dance.” Charlotte missed dancing and the music. She missed the way she could let herself go. She hadn’t danced in years. Formal dancing with Nathan didn’t count. Not in her mind. He always made it more of a formal chore than a real dance.
“I don’t know why, but I feel like something is different today. I mean it. I have this feeling. It’s like—”
“You sound like Angela.”
Star threw back her shoulders and frowned. “Do not compare my feelings to her psychedelic ones.”
Charlotte smiled. Star hated Angela’s antics. “Joe was pretty different, I'll give you that.”
Star rolled her eyes. “Not Joe Watkins kind of different.” She shivered. “He’s always kind of creeped me out. The way he looks at people is just . . . intense.”
The front door flew open and Angela pounced in, the pink neon scarf wrapped around her long, jet-black hair making her look like some sort of punk rocker. “Do you feel off today? Does the whole—” She waved her hand in a dramatic circle. “—karma of the day just feel completely out of whack?”
Charlotte stumbled back. Angela could do that to her, put her slightly off kilter. “Hey.”
Angela easily bypassed Charlotte, leaving a fruity smell in her wake. She went right for a cinnamon roll in the glass case. “I need this. I so need this. When I made these this morning I told myself I wouldn’t have one, but when weird karma hits you have to make exceptions.”
Star stood, smoothing her perfect pinstriped business suit into place. Charlotte had teased her that you could put a cowgirl in business clothes, but you couldn’t make the cowgirl any better behaved. “You’re being more hippyish than usual.”
Charlotte smiled at her friends’ banter. They were complete opposites in every way—Star had a checklist before a project even began. Angela always got harebrained ideas, tried them out, and discovered—in the middle of a project—that her non-plan wasn’t working out. It didn’t help that Angela had only lived in Hidden Falls for roughly two years. To Star, that meant she would always be a newbie. It also didn’t help that she claimed she could predict the future or, more specifically, the future of the day. There was no way Star would agree with her.
Charlotte lifted an eyebrow at Star, but didn’t tell Angela that Star had basically just said the same thing.
Star shrugged. “We were fine until you walked in.”
Angela plunked the cinnamon roll down on the clean glass. “Shut up.” She tromped over to Star. “Let me see your hand.”
Star pulled her hands together in defiance. “My hand is not a crystal ball, witch.”
It was what all the locals thought of Angela.
Angela leveled her with a fierce glare then turned back to Charlotte. “Hand please.”
Charlotte acquiesced because she didn't want to hurt Angela's feelings. "Star was just saying that today felt weird."
Star grimaced and rolled her eyes at Charlotte. “Traitor.”
Charlotte held back a laugh. Even though she was usually stuck in the middle of her friends, she loved them both fiercely.
Angela studied Charlotte’s hand so intently that, for a second, Charlotte wondered if there really was something there.
“Do you see it?” Angela flashed her intense, almost violet—and not contacts violet—eyes back to Charlotte.
Charlotte looked down at her palm. “I’m never sure what you’re talking about.”
Angela squeezed her hand hard.
“Ouch.” Charlotte tried to yank her hand back.
Angela waved Star over. “Come here, Star. I’ll show you. I’ll show you exactly what I’m talking about. You see. You see right there.” She pointed to the center of Charlotte’s palm.
Star pinched her lips in clear dismay, but moved closer
. “What?”
Angela pointed at the centerline of Charlotte’s palm. “Right there. See. See that. This is what I’m talking about. This is what I’ve been feeling all day. The line is off.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Even though Charlotte didn’t give any credence to what her father would have called “new-agey” tactics, Angela was pretty convincing. Especially when she seemed to always predict the weather, had known where Mr. Harris’s cat had been when no one could find him, and did that strange tapping thing to Charlotte’s head that always made her migraines go away.
Angela shook her head. “Yep. I should have known.”
Unnerved by Angela’s complete sureness, Charlotte yanked her hand back. “What? For land’s sake, what?”
Star even looked intensely at Angela—unbelieving, but intense.
The side of Angela’s lip went up in a satisfied way. “It’s going to happen.” She laughed. The kind of crazy laugh Charlotte had come to expect from her crazy friend. The kind of laugh that made the rest of the town people talk about her in hushed whispers. The fact that she owned an herbal concoction and antique shop didn’t help dispel the rumors. Her unusual violet eyes didn’t help either.
“Ang?” Charlotte pled.
Angela put her hand to her head. “Hold on. It’s all coming together.” She closed her eyes.
Charlotte frowned and moved to the door. “I have to go.”
Angela sidestepped in front of her. “Stop.”
Charlotte tried to go around her. “I’ve got to get Sam.”
“Hold up.”
Charlotte waited. For the prediction of a plague. For the destruction of a people. For the weather report for next year’s almanac.
“Today’s the day that true love comes into your life.”
Irritation pulsed through Charlotte. That had not been at all what she’d thought.
Star actually broke from her unbelief and laughed. “Now we’re talking.”
Charlotte flung open the front door, the chime loud and expecting. “I’m officially banning all the love talk from this store. Got it?”
Star, apparently, hadn’t heard her. She practically skipped to Angela. “Joe Watkins was in here and asked her out.” Star’s eyes lit up as she explained to Angela. “He wanted to take Charlotte up to ‘see the fall colors.’” She air quoted.
Charlotte leveled her best friend glare at Star. It was the same kind of glare she’d been giving her since the sixth grade. “Joe Watkins is not my type even if I wanted to date, and I definitely don’t want to date.”
Star laughed. “But you’re his type.”
Charlotte shook her head and sent a pleading look to Angela.
Angela moved back to the cinnamon roll and picked it up. She rubbed the sticky spot residue with the bottom part of her sleeve and put on an apologetic smile. “I’m not in charge of destiny, sister. I just call it like I see it.” She tore off another piece. “Hmm . . . Charlotte Watkins.” She tilted her head to the side. “Not too bad.”
“It’s not my destiny.” Charlotte pointed at Star. “She’s the one that wants to fall in love. Give her the prediction.”
Angela licked a piece of frosting from her finger and glanced at Star. “She never gives me her hand.”
Charlotte rushed out the front door. “I’ve gotta go.”
“I’ll watch the store for ya,” Angela called after her.
Star pushed out the door behind Charlotte and gave a flick of a wave back to Angela. “Ah, that was awesome, Ang. See ya later.”
Charlotte walked fast.
“Slow up.” Star called behind her.
Charlotte checked the time again as she rushed past Roses Are Red flower shop, the heavy smell of perfumed roses making her think about the way her father had always bought her a red rose on the first day of the month. “Just because,” he’d always told her when she’d asked. This thought was followed by a pang of grief in the center of her chest. It’d been less than a year since he passed, but she was always surprised when a memory of him hit her. She waved at the owner of the flower shop, Mrs. Helen Roy. “Come on, Star, I’m late.”
Even though Star was in heels, it didn’t matter. She swung her elbows wide and put on her speed-walking face. “That’s fine, I’ll keep up. I need to be back at the inn anyway—big client coming in.”
They cruised past Tops Cafe and the leftover smells of bacon and coffee wafted out the open door. Charlotte inhaled deeply, loving the smell of Hidden Falls’ Main Street. “Big client?”
“Yeah.” Star frowned. “This snooty woman called and made a reservation earlier. I think she said her name was Candy? I can’t believe people name their children that.”
“Really?” Charlotte half listened, checking for traffic as they dashed across the street and started the ascent up Main Street. The elementary school was in the older part of town. Plans to build a new one had been in the works for the past five years, but the city council always ended up voting it down for lack of funds.
“I thought it was strange she just wanted to reserve the room in the name of the company.”
“Hmm.”
“Venice, Veninchi, Da Vinci—I don’t know. Some strange name. But they rented the honeymoon suite.” She shrugged. “I gave them a deal.”
Fall was always a harder time to fill rooms, and Charlotte always worried for Star. “Do you have any more guests this week?”
Star cocked her head to the side and lifted a shoulder. “I’m fine, Char.”
Charlotte knew not to press her. Her pride was harder to climb than a thousand-year oak tree. “Okay, I won’t press.”
Star’s phone buzzed and she whipped it out. “Crap, I’m late. The customer is already there.”
Charlotte gave her a wave. “See ya.”
Star’s hand clamped down on her forearm.
Charlotte stopped. “What?”
A wicked smile slipped across Star’s face as she said, “Let me know how it goes, Juliette.” Then she let go and dashed toward the inn.
Chapter 3
Ryan gripped the steering wheel on the red Ford Mustang he’d rented in Charleston and tried to block out the large, red Hidden Falls sign he passed on the way into town.
It was the place he’d avoided like the plague for the last seven years. The only place in the whole world he would rather not be, including Afghanistan. A small, ironic cross between a laugh and a strangled breath hissed between his lips. That was pretty bad.
He stared at the Haven Inn. It stood erect and fully restored with red brick and black shutters and trellises with ivy and the big fairytale looking oak tree. Flowers of all kinds littered the yard—poppies, mums, irises, and roses galore. He would have wondered who bought the hole in the wall dump—if he cared about this hole in the wall town. Which he didn't.
He thought of the stories about this place—that it had been burnt by the hands of Union soldiers after the civil war. He’d always wondered why they hadn’t just removed the rubble and built something else. But it was the south and anything that was rubble was some kind of memorial.
Tentatively, he got out of the car and strolled up the flowered path. The smell of a large lilac bush assaulted him at the front door, bringing him full circle back to the south. The smells here were a far cry from his home in L.A. He knocked the brass ring.
No one.
Candy was definitely not worth her weight in salt, he decided. He’d specifically told her he wanted a room in Charleston and he would commute into Hidden Falls for the deal.
He went back to the car and slipped in.
He pulled in a long breath and let it out slowly. Three tours in the military had taught him one thing—patience. It would be fine. He would get this deal done and get out of town. He would go back to forgetting Hidden Falls even existed.
Then he saw her.
Why was she here? He pulled up on the door handle, and it slid through his fingers. “Dang it.” He hit the automatic unlock, tugged the door open, and st
epped out.
Her blond hair swished to a stop. Her hands went to her hips. “Ryan Hardman, will wonders never cease?”
He strode toward her. He didn't even try to squelch the stupid smile on his face. “Star Haven.”
Star slugged him in the shoulder then pranced back and kept her fists up by her face. “Sneak attack, gotta get your opponent when they least expect it.” She laughed.
He grabbed his shoulder even though she hadn't hurt him. She hadn’t changed one bit. Well, besides the whole all grown up and looking like a woman thing. “I see you’ve been practicing.”
She pulled him into a warm hug and let out a happy sigh. “Yep.”
He let her hug him, the first real hug he’d had in as long as he could remember. She was the closest thing he had to a sister.
“What are you doing here?”
He didn't know what to say, so he took the approach Alan had taught him when he didn't know how to respond to a question—ask your own question. "What are you doing here?"
She pulled back, a look of pride on her face. “I own it.”
“Really?”
Her cheeks reddened. “Yep. Can you believe it? I bought the old Haven place. I just—” She put her hand out in a Vanna gesture. “I just couldn’t stand to see it in such disrepair. People had talked about demolishing the whole thing. I couldn’t let that happen. My family settled this place and built this house. I thought I should keep it in the family.” Her eyes went down. “Especially after mom and dad passed.”
Panic surged inside of him. “What?”
Her eyes flashed back to his, moisture filling the edges. She gingerly wiped beneath them. “Don’t make me cry today, Ry.”
Concern filled him and he did something he never, ever did anymore—he reached out and pulled her back into a hug. “I’m sorry, Star.”
She sighed and pulled away, feigning a happy smile. “See, you go away for seven years and you miss out on all the gossip.”
He knew she was trying to be brave. “What happened?”
She blinked ferociously. “Oh, you know, car crash coming back from a supply run from Charleston.”
The sting of her loss hit him in the gut. “I’m so sorry.”