The December sun gave up the ghost as Carly pulled into a parking space in front of the Sunshine Café. She smiled as she looked at the half-lit sign, the worn wooden siding, the old-style screen door that did a decidedly average job of keeping out the flies in the summer.
It felt crazy good to be back in Serenity after the high-octane lifestyle in New York City. The fashion scene was exciting, which she enjoyed, but it was also highly competitive and cutthroat, which she enjoyed a good deal less. At first, she thought the competition was mostly friendly, and was taken in by the fake smiles that hid vacuous souls. It only took a couple of unpleasant experiences, one of which cost her the top spot in a fashion show, to learn that no one in the Big Apple could be trusted when it came to climbing the fashion ladder. In addition, there was never a shortage of those unwilling to let her forget where she came from. The northern woods of Michigan weren’t known for producing fashion icons, and many were the snide remarks that reminded her of this, especially when an industry competition was in full swing—psychological warfare was not something Carly was either familiar or comfortable with. She had assumed that she would sink or swim on the basis of her own merits alone—but as it turned out, things were much more complicated than that. This became clear to her the first time a superior—a woman—placed a hand on her breast while at the same time asking if she’d like a higher spot in that week’s school power ranking. The ranking was sponsored by the Reck University of Fashion & Design, where Carly had been a student, and refusing that not-so-subtle advance had, mysteriously, coincided with her lowest score of the year.
But now, back in Serenity, it was as if she could feel her blood pressure lowering, the tension easing, the stress melting away. And the sensation only buttressed the nagging thought that had been eating at the edges of her mind for some time now—maybe she wasn’t cut out for New York City. Maybe she belonged here. In Serenity.
She turned off her vehicle—it was rented, as she had sold her car while living in the city—and gathered her coat around her. Then she opened the door and stepped out.
That first breath of northern Michigan air was like a drug straight to her bloodstream. Her eyes cleared and her pulse quickened again, but this time due to excitement and not social pressure. Her smile widened, and she made her way to the café door. As she put her hand on the handle to open it, she heard a slight scuffling sound somewhere to her rear. She glanced back, her caution having only increased through having been a single woman in a big city, and saw a man crossing the street toward the café, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. She thought nothing of it, and then opened the door and stepped inside.
“Well, as I live and breathe!” Barb, a long-time waitress at the Sunshine, saw Carly enter, and her face—which hadn’t seemed to age at all in the past twenty years—broke into a warm grin. “Carly? Is that you?”
Carly nodded, and she almost burst into tears as Barb set down the order of beef stew she’d been carrying and crossed to her immediately.
“Hey, Barb. It’s nice to—”
And then Carly was crying, wrapped up in Barb’s tight embrace.
“Oh, honey. It’s so good to see you,” the waitress said, her smoker’s voice like a warm blanket around Carly’s heart. “There, there. You’re home now.”
The immediate understanding, the unquestioning acceptance, made Carly want to wail in relief, but she pulled herself together and drew back from the hug.
“Thanks, Barb. It’s really good to see you.”
“You look like you need to eat,” Barb said, although she always thought everyone needed to eat. At all times. She was an insufferable grandmotherly-type, who was not happy unless she was feeding someone. Although she had also had a caustic side that could cut the balls off any deserving person, man or woman.
Carly started to decline, but her treasonous stomach chose that very moment to let out a loud growl, and both women laughed.
“I guess I’ll have something, then.”
“You just sit yourself down, and I’ll rustle you up some nice beef stew. It’s the special tonight, and we made too much, so it’ll be on the house.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“Shut up and sit, young lady, before you faint from malnourishment. What the hell you been eating over there in New York, tree bark and diet water? We gotta get some meat back on those bones.”
Just as Carly sat down, the café door opened and a man walked inside, probably the same man she’d seen crossing the street, although she had not gotten a good look at him.
If she had, she’d probably have kept looking.
He was absurdly good-looking, and Carly could have sworn that she’d seen him before somewhere—and then she remembered. It was Colton Matthews, the movie star! Not only had she seen him on the big screen, but he’d attended one of the fashion shows where she’d presented a piece of her work, during the course of a promo tour he’d been doing for a movie. They’d exchanged a couple of words and she’d gotten his autograph. Although she knew the odds of him remembering the meeting were slim to none, it was still exciting to see him walk into the café at that very moment.
What a coincidence, Carly thought, and her paranoid side whispered, Almost too much of a coincidence. But she batted the thought away. This wasn’t New York City; this was Serenity—although she had to admit that the town had more than its share of odd happenings. Still, unless you were out looking for trouble—like her friend Shelby Alexander—you weren’t likely to find it in Serenity. No, she told herself, he is not following you into the café on purpose; he’s just hungry. For food. And this is a restaurant. Get a grip.
Engrossed in her battling thoughts, Carly jumped when a male voice pulled her from her internal monologue.
“What?” she asked, a little breathlessly. She looked up and saw Colton Matthews standing by the table, looking down at her with a friendly smile on his insanely handsome face. God, she thought. It should be a crime to be that good looking.
“I asked if we’d met before,” Matthews said, apparently repeating himself, although Carly had not understood him the first time.
Her thoughts swam. So he did remember?
“I … maybe? At the fall fashion extravaganza? You were on tour.”
“Oh, right!” His face brightened. “I was promoting Five Times Dead. Yes, you were in the show.”
Carly almost let out a giggle but managed to bite it back just in time. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“Are you kidding? I couldn’t pay attention to the models, because the designer was so much hotter.”
Carly felt a scorching flush climb like fire up her neck and into her face. She tried to think of something to say, but words were hard.
Matthews chuckled kindly. “Didn’t mean to embarrass you. But it’s true. Can I sit?” He motioned to the chair on the opposite side of the table.
Carly nodded, still speechless.