Before she even opened her eyes Mia Emerson knew it was going to be the worst day of her life. But just like all other days, Saturday, May 30, would only last twenty-four hours. She could do this.
She forced her eyes open against the buttery sunlight filtering through her sheers. She’d get up, shower, dress in her disguise. Then she’d run down to the Busy Bean and linger over the newspaper as she did nearly every Saturday morning.
She pushed back the covers and sat up, her eyes catching on the dress she’d dropped to the floor before crawling into bed. The memory of the night before washed over her like a bad dream, making her stomach twist hard.
It had been almost midnight by the time the film had wrapped. The cast and crew of Twelve Hours, high on adrenaline, celebrated at one of LA’s most popular nightspots. Mia was as excited as everyone else.
This was only her second leading role. Into the Deep had catapulted her to the top of the rising stars lists. And now, having been cast opposite Jax Jordan in his latest action film, her career had never looked so promising. It was a little after two when Mia decided to call it a night. By then the others were tipsy or downright drunk. She said good night and made her way outside to hail a cab. If the night had ended there, she’d have nothing on her mind but the next day’s dreaded date. But it hadn’t.
Her phone buzzed an incoming call. The screen lit up with her best friend Brooke’s face. They’d been besties since they were seven, when Mia’s mom had hired Brooke’s mom, Lettie, to be their housekeeper.
Mia answered. “Making sure I haven’t thrown myself over a cliff yet?”
“Don’t be silly. There’s not a cliff for miles. Did I wake you?”
“Very nearly. I didn’t get in until almost three.” She pushed away the instant flashback of Jax approaching her outside the building.
“The shoot wrapped then?”
“It’s in the hole.”
“What are your plans today? Let’s meet up, do something fun.”
“Take my mind off things, you mean?”
“We’ll start with the Busy Bean because I’m just a good friend like that. Then we can be tourists for a day. We can do the Walk of Fame, take a stroll along Venice Beach, and whatever else you want to do. Plus, I made reservations for tonight. We’re getting gussied up and going to Musso and Frank.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet. But I know you’re swamped with work.”
Brooke handled props, a job that required a detail-oriented individual, and her next film started Monday.
“No worries, I’m all ready for it.”
“Why can’t you be human like the rest of us? A little procrastination never hurt anyone, you know.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer. Jump in the shower, and I’ll meet you at the coffee shop in an hour.”
The aroma of roasted beans perked Mia up as she entered the bustling shop situated just outside her Beverly Hills neighborhood. It was tucked away and not named Starbucks, making it more popular with locals than tourists.
Caffeine. She needed caffeine. And possibly a time machine.
She was a little early, so she stepped into line. It was almost eleven o’clock. What would she have been doing right now if Wesley hadn’t called things off? Getting manicures with her bridesmaids at Le Luxe? Writing Wes a wedding day note, to be delivered by his best man? She would’ve written that she loved him more than life itself. That he was everything she could’ve imagined in a life partner.
She would’ve been wrong. So wrong. She’d thought he was just what she needed. But she’d been wrong about that too.
She blinked against the tears and moved forward with the line. How did this still have the power to wilt her knees? It had been almost four months. She ducked her head, tugged the brim of her ball cap down.
Brooke was right. She needed to stay busy today. She checked her watch. Thirteen hours left: an eternity.
The person in front of her stepped aside. Her turn.
Mia’s eyes were probably bloodshot, but she pasted a big smile on her face and greeted the barista. “Good morning, Bree.”
As Bree’s gaze fell on Mia her smile fell away, eyes going flat. “What can I get you?” she asked in a businesslike tone.
Mia blinked. Bree must be having a bad day. “Um, I’ll have my usual. And a large hot cinnamon spice tea, please.”
Bree punched it in. “$10.42,” she said without making eye contact.
Mia handed over her rewards card and tried again. “It’s gorgeous outside. Busy day?”
“You could say that.”
Mia tucked a few bills into the tip jar.
After swiping her card Bree handed it back wordlessly and grabbed two cups, writing the orders on them.
The stranger behind her cleared her throat, and Mia moved down the counter.
Had she done something to offend Bree? Yesterday they’d chatted a quick minute, but Mia couldn’t remember about what. All the baristas were friendly. One of the reasons the Bean was her favorite shop.
Maybe Bree’s son had had a meltdown when she left him at day care again. Or maybe her mother’s dementia was getting worse. Mia said a quick prayer for the barista and moved down the line.
The espresso machine whirred loudly. Greta operated it with quick, efficient movements, her dark ponytail swinging behind her.
“Good morning, Greta,” Mia said after the machine went silent.
Greta’s gaze shot to Mia, and her face went hard. “Morning,” she finally said in a tight voice.
What in the world was going on? Mia glanced around at the other two busy baristas. Normally they all greeted her no matter how busy they were.
Greta set her drinks on the counter and went on to her next order.
“Thank you,” Mia said.
But Greta didn’t respond or even make eye contact.
Mia collected the drinks, a vague feeling of shame washing over her. She must’ve done something, but she couldn’t imagine what.
The shop was crowded, and she suddenly felt a little claustrophobic. She slipped past the line and out the door to the gated patio. It was a mild and sunny day, and heaven knew she could use a little sunshine.
What had gotten into her friendly neighborhood baristas? Maybe someone had gotten fired. She tried to remember if they’d been friendly with the other customers, but she hadn’t been paying attention. Or maybe it had something to do with her canceled wedding. But that news had broken months ago.
As she settled at a table for two near the sidewalk, her phone buzzed with a call. She pulled it from her pocket. Brooke.
“Don’t tell me you’re running late,” Mia said. “Because I’m pretty sure that’s never happened.”
“Where are you?”
Mia frowned at the intensity in her friend’s tone. “At the coffee shop where I’m supposed to be. Where are you?”
“Um, listen . . . change of plans. I’m picking you up. I’m just around the corner.”
“Ooo-kay . . . What’s going on, Brooke?”
“I’ll tell you when I get there. I can see the shop now. Come out to the curb.”
Mia stood, hooking her purse on her shoulder. “You’re being very cryptic.” She spotted Brooke’s white Toyota. “I see you. Be right there.”
Mia disconnected, grabbed their drinks, and made her way to the curb. She had a terrible feeling this day was actually going to get worse than she’d imagined.