A Spot at Starlight Beach (Spotted Cottage #3)

Thirty-one

Her chest burned. It was the fire, burning too hot for too long.

Mackenzie walked away from the flames and toward the water. The brilliant sunset she’d been waiting for was rapidly disappearing. Waves lapped quietly on the shallow shore, and the dark sea met the last wisps of light blue sky. Above her, darkness grew like an inescapable dome.

Her ribs strained against her dress. It was too tight, and her lungs were overstuffed with air. She forced herself to release a breath. In, out, as shallow as the waves.

Who did Liam think he was? He probably was a criminal, skating by on good looks and a charming accent. Had he even denied his family being smugglers?

She couldn’t remember. All she could see were the flames dancing in his eyes, the curl of his lip.

“Oh, sorry,” a woman’s voice said.

Mackenzie spun, her eyes landing on Bailey Jo. She’d come to the ball in a simple black dress, her hair cascading down her shoulders in glamorous curls.

“It’s no problem,” Mackenzie said. “I was just leaving.”

A smile lit her face. “Mackenzie, right? You work for Cameron?”

She clenched her jaw. She’d almost forgotten Cameron existed. “I don’t, no.”

“Oh.” A frown creased Bailey Jo’s face. “I must have made a mistake. He said you…” Her voice trailed off and she narrowed her eyes.

She stepped forward. “He said I what?”

If he’d told Bailey Jo she was a smuggler, too, that might be part of a pattern.

“I’m not sure.”

Mackenzie smiled. “I don’t work for him. He’s trying to get me to work for him, though.”

“Ah.” She scratched the back of her head. “He wants me to recommend him to my friends.”

“Sounds like him.”

“But I told him you were the one who came up with my trip.”

Mackenzie smiled. Beamed, really. “Yes, well, I did.”

“He said you work for him, and he was great with planning. Like…” She bit her lip. “Planning this ball, which I’m starting to realize might’ve been a stretch.”

Mackenzie’s eyes could have popped out of their sockets. “Cameron said he planned my ball? He was barely invited!”

“I don’t want to start anything.” Bailey Jo smoothed her dress with her hands and floated down, landing in a chair.

She was much smaller in person. She looked like a little girl to Mackenzie, though she was only a few years younger.

Bailey Jo went on, shaking her head. “He’s been calling me nonstop. I had to block two of his numbers. I had no idea he’d be here, too – I’m hiding while my ride pulls around.”

Mackenzie groaned. This might be worse than him making up a lie about her being a smuggler. She put a hand to her face and rubbed her forehead. “You’re kidding. So he’s a pest.”

Bailey Jo leaned forward. “I…” Her voice trailed off. “I’m glad you don’t work for him.”

“I don’t, and I’m going to ask him to leave immediately.”

“Please don’t,” Bailey Jo held up a hand. “I don’t want to cause trouble. It doesn’t take much to be called ‘difficult’ as a woman, you know.”

“Oh, believe me, as a difficult woman, I know.” Mackenzie laughed. “It’s not just you. He’s caused other problems.”

The smolder in her chest faded, now a molten lump in her stomach. Cameron flashed through her mind, his hands pulling at her waist. He was always pulling. Always taking.

Mackenzie shuddered and shook her head. “I think he may be wanted by an international crime family. Or Scotland Yard. I’m not sure.”

Bailey Jo laughed. “Good to know I’m not the only one he’s bothered.”

“No.” Mackenzie threw a glance over her shoulder. Stars shone above, as if someone had poured them into the clear liquid sky.

“It really is beautiful here,” Bailey Jo said.

Mackenzie took in a breath. “It is.”

“I think I’d like to get a place on the island. Somewhere I can get away.”

“Do it! I was on the fence about moving here, but it’s been worth it.”

Mackenzie’s eyelids fluttered, too many scenes flashing in her mind. Liam on the dock. Liam laughing over a cup of tea. Liam’s dark, brooding scowl lit and shadowed by the flames, the snap of her accusations sitting in his eyes.

He was the one who’d made it worth it.

Tears flooded her eyes. She bit her lip.

“Maybe you could help me if I move?” Bailey Jo said. “I’d like to be able to enjoy the islands without getting swamped with people.” She paused, then rushed to add, “Not that I don’t appreciate my fans.”

“I get it.” Mackenzie put a hand on hers. “You know, you remind me of my little sisters.”

Bailey Jo raised her eyebrows. “Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah. I like them. A lot. And I always want to help them, so I’d be happy to help you.”

Bailey Jo clapped her hands together, laughing. “Yay!”

“If you throw on a wide-brimmed hat and some sunglasses, you can hike here and no one will give you a second glance.”

Bailey Jo grinned. “That sounds wonderful.”

“I’ll give you my number, then I’m going to go kick Cameron out of this party. It’s long overdue.”

“Good luck!”

The food didn’t run out, the band didn’t stop playing, and every bag of goodbye cookies found a loving home. They managed to replenish the money Russell’s old assistant had stolen, plus a few thousand extra. By all measures, the ball was a success.

Mackenzie asked Chief to find Cameron and remove him from the party. He obliged, no questions asked. She watched as he walked him out.

Bailey Jo stayed until the end, joining Mackenzie and her fangirl sisters on the dance floor. She even requested a picture with Mackenzie, which she promptly posted online with a call for donations, resulting in another fifty thousand dollars from her fans alone.

The next morning, Mackenzie sat in the tea shop, the muscles in her back stiff from a dance move gone wrong, her head throbbing. There was a price to pay for fun, and Mackenzie had accrued interest.

A cup of fermented tea sat next to her phone on the table. She took a deep breath and picked up the cup. Would it be rude to wear sunglasses inside?

A call from Cameron lit up her screen and she stared at it. On his second attempt, she answered.

“Hello.” She picked up the tea and held it near her nose. It smelled of vinegar.

“Mackenzie! I just saw Bailey Jo’s picture! Are you two besties now or what?”

“You might say that.” She set the teacup down. It tasted like vinegar, too, stinging her tongue. What was Eliza thinking? This tea was awful. They shouldn’t be selling this poison.

“I’m sorry I had to cut out early. We had an emergency and I had to fly out.”

“Wow,” she said, her voice flat. The cup clattered on the saucer as she pushed it away. “Crazy you could leave in the middle of the party you planned. What if something went wrong? How would we have reached you?”

“Ha, Mackenzie, listen…”

“No.” She cut him off. “You listen, Cameron. If you ever take credit for my work again –”

He interrupted, his voice silky smooth. “Mackenzie, I didn’t take credit for it. I hope I’m not preemptive in saying this, but I like to think of us as a team. Almost like…a power couple.”

Bile hit the back of her throat, burning. Was it the tea, or was it because Cameron used her ex’s favorite phrase? The one he’d deployed to use her all those years?

“We’re not a power couple.” She drew herself up. “We’re not any couple.”

“I’m not trying to rush anything, Mackenzie. You know that.”

“There’s nothing to rush. Don’t call. Don’t write. If I ever see you on this island again, I’ll have you arrested.”

He scoffed. “You don’t own the island.”

“Try me.”

Silence.

She went on. “And stop harassing Bailey Jo. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Mackenzie ended the call and slammed her phone on the table. The teacup jumped.

Eliza stood, staring with wide eyes. “Who was that?”

“Nobody.”

She wiped her hands on her apron and sat down. “Are you okay? Too much champagne last night?”

Mackenzie narrowed her eyes. “No.”

“Ah.” She smiled. “Then it must be a hangover from throwing a great charity ball.”

Mackenzie grunted.

“Maybe you need to start planning the next one!”

“There’s not going to be a next one, because Lottie isn’t ever going to get here.”

“Hey,” Eliza said. “Don’t snap at me. It’s not my fault.”

“You’re right. It’s mine.” Mackenzie sunk into her seat.

Eliza’s tone softened. “I didn’t say that.”

A jingle rang out and Joey walked through the door, a pair of aviators in his hand.

“Good morning.” He pecked a kiss on the top of Eliza’s head. “What’s the special for today?”

“Apparently it’s an extra grumpy Mackenzie,” Eliza said with a smile.

Mackenzie glared at her. “I’m not extra grumpy. I’m realistically grumpy. The ball was a waste of everyone’s time.”

“I had fun,” Joey said.

“It’s not about you!” Mackenzie glared at him. “The vote is coming up and my stupid flyers aren’t working.”

“What flyers?”

Mackenzie reached into her purse and pulled out the glossy card with Lottie at the top. “This one. The one explaining how they’re trying to make it illegal to transport Lottie here. Did you get one of these in the mail last week?”

He took it gingerly in his hand, flipping it back to front. “Was I supposed to read this?”

“Yes!” she shouted.

“I remember getting it, but I thought it was just about Lottie coming back.”

Mackenzie shut her eyes. He was the fourth person to tell her that today. She’d asked all the regulars at the tea shop, plus all the cashiers at the grocery store that morning.

Not a single one of them had read it. One woman had told her, “I lump all the junk mail together to recycle. I don’t even look at it.”

“Joey isn’t our target audience,” Eliza said. “I’m sure people are reading it.”

“I’m sure they’re not.” She stood, grabbing her purse off the floor. “Also, Eliza, I love you, but this tea is horrible and you should throw it out.”

She bit her lip, smiling. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“No.” She turned toward the door.

A gentle hand touched her arm. “Hey,” Eliza said. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” She put her purse on her shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”

Mackenzie stormed down the path to the cottage, the wind in her eyes. She wasn’t fit to be in public.

So what if she could throw a fun party? The party didn’t matter. The picture of her with Bailey Jo didn’t matter, even if Steve ended up seeing it and feeling envious.

Mackenzie didn’t care about that anymore. She should’ve been focused on what needed to be done to get Lottie here safely. Instead, she had been thinking about stuffed mushrooms and hydrangeas.

It was glaringly obvious, especially in this blinding morning sun—she was a fool.

Inside the cottage, she rushed upstairs and shut the door. She didn’t want to talk to her mom, or Eliza, or even Granny.

The door popped open and she looked up. Derby stood with his mouth open, panting.

“Okay,” she said softly. “I guess you can come in.”

She sat on the bed and patted the blanket with her hand. “Come on.”

He wagged his tail as he walked over, then braced himself for the small jump. His back legs froze, so Mackenzie bent to lug him onto the bed.

“You’re not a puppy anymore, Derby.”

He turned, whacking her with his tail, and flopped onto her lap.

She laughed. “I guess I’m staying here for a while.”

Her laptop was within reach. She propped it on a pillow nearby, clicking through her email, then the news, then a whole lot of nothing.

She pulled up an email from Liam where he’d sent her a link to the movies he’d made. At the time, she had been too busy to watch them.

Or at least that was what she’d told herself.

She opened it and clicked on the first video. A small brown bird appeared on the screen, pecking at the ground. It picked up a dime, then took off, dropping it.

The dime rolled and the camera cut in close, past a sleeping dog, down a sidewalk, past a waiter dropping a tray of glasses, all the way down to a guy kneeling.

He looked up, love in his eyes, a ring in his hand.

A splatter of white hit him in the face.

Mackenzie laughed, covering her mouth. The little brown bird swooped in, taking the dime back.

How had Liam gotten it to look like the bird was doing that? What’s more, how had he made an entire story, and made her laugh, in a two-minute film?

She didn’t realize it at first, but tears spilled from her eyes, dropping from her cheeks and onto Derby’s head.

What had she done? In all her fury, in her need to win and conquer, what had she lost?