I stepped out of Dockside into the sunshine. The air still had a hint of chill, but that was spring in the mountains. We wouldn’t get truly hot days until July.
Inhaling deeply, I let the familiar pine-and-lake-water scent soothe away the worst of my frustrations. None of the places I’d visited this afternoon had been hiring. Not Dockside or Wildfire. Not any of the art galleries or gift shops. Everyone had loaded up on staff for tourist season weeks ago.
Anxiety pricked my skin as I mentally calculated how long my savings would last. Not long. I’d always been responsible with money. Seeing my parents blow through theirs the second they got it had made me that way. I’d squirreled away cash from the moment I’d first gotten an after-school job. That had continued after I’d gotten my full-time job managing Dockside and keeping their books, along with my side gig, doing dog training in my off time.
But that money had dwindled after moving to Atlanta. I’d wanted to get a job, but Adam had wanted me free to travel with him for work. His nonprofit meant that he was constantly hopping on planes to attend fundraisers all over the country.
When I tried to keep up my hobby of dog training when we were home, he’d found a million reasons why it was a bad idea. We might have to leave last minute for some reason or another. He wanted me to focus on things that would help build our future. Dogs smelled bad.
I huffed. Nash was right. Total douchebag.
“Maddie!”
My head lifted at the sound of the familiar voice calling from across the street. A smile curved my mouth as I took in Wren. Then, looking both ways, I jogged across the pavement.
Wren pulled me into a tight hug. Thankfully, her hold was around my shoulders and not my waist. “I am so happy you’re back.”
“Me, too.” I gave her one more squeeze and released her. “How are you?”
She grinned. “Really good. Still working dispatch at the police station. Holt and I are going to build a house on my property by the lake.”
My brows just about hit my hairline. “Holt?”
When I left Cedar Ridge, Nash’s brother had been gone for almost seven years, leaving Wren’s broken heart in his wake. And Nash hadn’t brought him up once in the hours he’d spent helping me clean. But he’d also kept the conversation decidedly light.
She gave me a sheepish smile, but there was pure joy beneath it. “He came back. Did everything he could to make things right.”
Emotion clogged my throat. I’d seen Wren in the aftermath of her shooting and Holt’s departure. She’d been a wreck, and that was putting it kindly. The fact that she’d not only put her life back together but had also found this kind of happiness? It gave me hope.
“I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice going hoarse. “What about you?”
My smile dimmed. People had asked no less than a dozen times if my fiancé had moved back to Cedar Ridge with me. I’d opted for the simple “it didn’t work out” response and just hoped the gossip would spread within forty-eight hours. I’d have to put up with the shoulder pats and sympathy for another week or so. And then I’d be able to get back to normal.
But Wren wasn’t a well-meaning stranger. She’d been a friend—a close one. My fingers curled into my palms as I searched for the right words. Ones that wouldn’t be pretty lies but also didn’t entirely expose the truth.
“Adam wasn’t the good guy I thought he was.”
He’d played the role well at first. His lopsided smile and how passionate he seemed to be about his work providing clean drinking water to communities all over the globe had pulled me in. When we met, he’d hooked me with how he’d been all-in from the moment he came into Dockside during a visit to Cedar Ridge. I could still hear the self-deprecating laugh as he told me about nearly breaking his neck on a local hike. “Guess I’m not cut out for the great outdoors.”
Adam had returned to the Grill every day of his trip, finally asking me out on the second to last one. I’d found it charming that he’d seemed almost nervous, not seeing that it was all part of the façade. And after Adam had returned home, he’d reeled me in with long emails painting a picture of the future I could be a part of and establishing his doting attentiveness no matter how busy he was.
His shine blinded me so much that I hadn’t seen the darkness lurking beneath. How his work only fed his narcissism. How he couldn’t tolerate anyone disagreeing with him even over something as simple as what toppings to get on a pizza. I hadn’t seen how he slowly and methodically cut me off from every person in my life.
Wren squeezed my arm. “I’m sorry, Maddie.”
I gave my head a little shake, trying to clear away the worst of the memories. “It’s okay. I’m home now. And I learned from the experience.”
Learned a lesson I should’ve mastered the first time someone had taken out their rage on me.
“There’s no place like home when you’re feeling a little raw.”
“You’re right. But I might not have thought the whole thing through well enough. I just packed my car and left.”
Wren’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
I held up a stack of resumés. “No one seems to be hiring. I missed the staffing window for tourist season.”
“What are you looking for?”
“Honestly, I’ll take anything that pays right now. I’d even wear the chicken costume.”
Wren burst out laughing. One of the local restaurants had tried a new type of marketing when we were in high school—one where someone wore a chicken costume and had to do a choreographed dance. “I would never let a friend stoop to that level. When I was in The Brew this morning, Sue was moaning about one of her staff quitting on her. Maybe you could sneak in there before someone nabs the opening. She loves you.”
“You are a godsend.” I grabbed Wren in a quick hug, ignoring my ribs’ protest. I might have overdone it with the cleaning and unpacking yesterday.
Wren laughed. “You can repay me by letting me and G come to your place with a bottle of wine once you’re settled.”
I released her, already moving in the direction of The Brew. “If I get this job, I’ll spring for the wine.”
“You’re on.”
“Love seeing you happy,” I called as I walked backward.
Wren’s hazel eyes sparkled in the afternoon light. “Happy’s coming for you next.”
That felt like a pipe dream right now. I’d settle for content. Safe. Not jumping at every sound. But instead of saying so, I simply smiled and waved.
Turning around, I made a beeline for The Brew. The letters of the new sign that hung over the massive window were whimsical and perfectly matched the inside of the café. The whole place had an Alice in Wonderland feel.
No two items in the space matched, from tables and chairs to the teapots and plates. Color spilled everywhere. It was a completely different vibe than when I’d been here last. Before, the coffee shop carried an almost corporate feel. No character at all. The updates were amazing.
I opened the door, an intricate gold bell tinkling as I did.
“Welcome to The Brew,” a feminine voice singsonged. “I’ll be right with you.”
A blur of motion caught my eye as a pixie of a little girl flew around the bakery case. She skidded to a halt in front of me. “Welcome to The Brew,” she copied the woman. Then she grinned, and I saw that her front tooth was missing. “You look like Snow White. Are you her? Are you?”
“Cady,” a woman about my age chastised as she emerged from the back of the café. “What did I tell you?”
The little girl frowned, her head tilting to the side, making her red curls swing. “That I gots to stay behind the case. But she looks like Snow White, Mama.”
The woman gave me a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that. We’re very much in our Disney princess stage.” She lifted her daughter, tickling her sides and making the girl giggle.
“I’m gonna be a princess one day,” Cady said between giggles.
I smiled at her. “Sounds like a good gig to me.”
Cady bobbed her head in a nod. “I’m gonna eat ice cream sundaes for breakfast every day, and have a unicorn to ride, and have all the books in the world.”
“You had me at ice cream for breakfast,” I told her.
The woman set Cady down. “Can you do me a favor and go check the napkins? I want to make sure we put out enough.”
Cady beamed. “I’ll check every table.” She took off without waiting for an answer.
Her mother laughed, the light in her green eyes dancing. “Sorry about the chaos. I don’t usually work the afternoon shift because I have to wrangle that little jumping bean, but we’re short-staffed.”
“No problem at all. That’s actually why I’m here.”
The woman’s brows lifted.
I held out my resumé. “I’m Maddie Byrne. I just moved back to Cedar Ridge after a few years away, and I’m on the hunt for a job. I worked at Dockside for years before I left, so I have lots of restaurant experience.”
“Maddie, you are the best news I’ve had all day. I’m Aspen. I manage the place for Sue. I mostly do the baking and manage the books, but I work a few morning shifts in the café, too.”
“Nice to meet you.”
She smiled. “You, too. I’ll pass your resumé on to Sue and see when we can get you scheduled for an interview.”
There was a little flicker of disappointment. Part of me had hoped that Sue would be in and would hire me on the spot. But it made sense that the owner wasn’t on-site all the time, especially if she had a manager. “I’m wide open, so just let me know when you want me to come in.”
“Hopefully, soon. Because I can’t keep running things in the afternoons with this one.” She inclined her head toward her daughter, deep red hair swinging with the motion.
Cady took that opportunity to attempt to climb onto a table to reach the napkin holder, and Aspen dashed toward her daughter. “See what I mean?”
“She’s keeping you on your toes.”
“That’s my job,” Cady said with a laugh as her mom grabbed her.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink before you go?” Aspen asked.
My stomach rumbled, but I shook my head. I had groceries at home and eating out was not in my budget. “I’m good. But thank you.”
She gave me a wave. “I’ll see you soon. And welcome home.”
“Thanks. Bye, Cady,” I called.
“Bye, Snow White. Tell all the animals I said hi.”
I chuckled as I headed for the front of the café. “I will. Especially the unicorn.”
Pushing open the door, I stepped back out into the sun and headed for my SUV. For the first time today, I felt a flicker of hope. If I could snag this job, I’d be able to really breathe for the first time since I got home.
I beeped my locks and climbed behind the wheel. The drive to the cabin took less than ten minutes—another upside of the location. I wouldn’t have to refill my gas tank often.
Everything in me tightened as I took in the vehicle sitting in front of my new home. That old Plymouth had to be held together with duct tape and superglue at this point. I idled in place for a count of ten, fighting the urge to turn right back around. Instead, I shut off the engine and slid out of the driver’s seat.
I studied the woman who leaned against the precarious porch railing, puffing on a cigarette. She looked the same, only about a decade older. The bleach was beginning to wreak havoc on her hair, leaving the ends brittle, and the lines around her mouth were so much deeper. But those eyes were just as hollow as I remembered.
“Heard you were back,” she rasped.
The stench of her cigarette wafted toward me, making my stomach pitch. That and the smell of stale alcohol were two scents I had no tolerance for. They took me back to a time I only wanted to forget.
“I’m back.”
My mom scoffed. “What’d you do to fuck things up with Mr. Moneybags?”
The wince was instinctive. I couldn’t help it. My mother only ever saw people as assets to be used and abused.
“Things just didn’t work out.”
My mom flicked the ash off her cigarette, letting it fall onto my steps. “Told you what would happen. That you’d be back here, your tail between your legs. And here you are.”
“Good to see you, too, Mom. I’m going inside. You should go home—if you’re still sober enough to drive.”
I started up the steps, giving her a wide berth. But she lashed out, gripping my arm, her nails digging into my skin. “You’re not better than me, girl.”
I turned to face her. “No. I’m not. But I’m not going to drown myself in booze because of it.”
I yanked my arm from her grasp and hurried to my door. Unlocking it quickly, I stepped inside. I wasn’t sure what it said about me—or my mom—that I immediately locked the door behind me.
Leaning against the wood slab, I sucked in a deep breath and waited. I heard muffled cursing, then an engine struggling to turn over. Finally, it caught. When the sounds of the car eventually faded, I let go of the air in my lungs but didn’t move.
There were so many wonderful things about being back in Cedar Ridge. But my mother was far from one of them.
My phone dinged, and I pulled it from my purse. The name on the screen had my blood going cold.
ADAM
Stop throwing a hissy fit and come home. You have twelve hours.
My hands trembled. They’d begun to do that every time Adam’s name flashed on my phone, no matter the contents of the text, a slight tremor at just seeing those four letters on my screen.
It had taken him almost a week to text me after I left. He’d been so sure I’d come back on my own. That arrogance had been my only comfort as I started my drive, paying for motels in cash and never using my credit card. Every time my phone made a sound, I’d braced, waiting for what might be on the screen, wondering if he’d somehow worked out where I was.
I stared at my cell. The handful of words tightening a vise around my ribs. I wouldn’t have made it back to Atlanta in twelve hours even if I’d tried. But I knew one thing for certain. This was a threat. And Adam always made good on those.
