Chapter 3
He had chosen well, he decided as soon as he was on his way from the small local airport.
His assistant was very efficient and more than that, he was loyal, He had done his research and found the perfect destination.
And Andre would keep it quiet.
No one could pry the information out of him.
The man had been with him for ten years and was worth every bit of the very generous compensation package.
He had leased a simple car, nothing fancy or that would draw attention to himself.
He was going for anonymity after all.
Slowing down, he spent time appreciating the quaint store front shops, the slope of hills and profusion of flowers everywhere.
He supposed that’s what had given the place it’s cute and frivolous name.
Touching the button, he sniffed the air as the window rolled down and would swear he could smell the wafting of flora and fauna.
Over to his left was an old crumbling building that he suspected had once been a church, from the steeple rearing towards the startling blue of the sky.
But instead of detracting from the beauty of the place, it managed to lend a certain nostalgic quaintness that was unmistakable.
He had lived in big cities all his life, except for the few times he had spent on filming locations.
But for some reason, the place had an appeal that spoke to him.
Shaking his head and laughing softly, he pressed the accelerator to add speed, realizing that he was going a little over twenty-five miles.
Looking to his right he also noted that the posted speed limit was thirty.
Figures, he mused.
The place had a Norman Rockwell feel to it that would certainly encourage anyone visiting for the first time to slow down and have more than a second glance.
His phone buzzed, interrupting his musings, and he glanced at the screen.
It was a message from Andre, a simple “All Set”
that brought a satisfied smile to his lips.
He replied with a quick “Good,” before turning his attention back to the road.
As he navigated the narrow streets, he marveled at the absence of the usual chaos that accompanied city living.
There was a rhythm here, a gentle hum of life that was both foreign and strangely inviting.
He passed a small park where children laughed and played, their carefree joy a stark contrast to the calculated precision of his own life.
Then he came to the town square where a huge bouquet of flowers spilled over a cracked and weathered urn.
Padded benches went all around it and were occupied by people of all ages.
No one seemed to notice him, but he could not help but slow down to admire the clean and tidy park facing the square.
The wind was picking up and he had studied the weather pattern enough to know that fall was already making its presence felt.
He continued to watch as a toddler raced away on uncertain legs and the mother making quick steps to rescue him or her from crashing into a trash can.
It was quiet and looked serene.
Further on, several women were gathered around an open blaze of fire coming from a rusted trash can.
They were eating from paper plates, talking, and laughing.
He parked the car at a discreet corner and stepped out, taking a deep breath.
The air was crisp and carried a hint of the sea, reminding him of childhood summers spent on the coast.
He strolled towards the town square, blending in with the locals, his anonymity intact.
Observing the lively chatter and the simple pleasures that the townsfolk enjoyed, he felt a pang of envy.
Their lives seemed uncomplicated, free from the relentless demands that dictated his every move.
As he walked, he noticed a small café with a charming outdoor seating area.
The aroma of freshly baked bread and brewing coffee was irresistible, and he decided to indulge in a rare moment of leisure.
He chose a table with a view of the town square, where he could watch the world go by.
The waitress greeted him with a warm smile and recommended the day's special - a hearty soup made from locally sourced ingredients.
He nodded, appreciating the personal touch that marked this place.
While waiting for his order, he pulled out his notebook and began jotting down observations.
There was a serenity here that was hard to capture in words, a sense of community and belonging that eluded him in his high-flying world.
He watched as an elderly man fed the birds, his wrinkled face alight with contentment.
Across the square, a young couple shared a laugh, their joy infectious.
His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of his soup, steaming and fragrant.
He savored each spoonful, letting the flavors transport him to a simpler time.
As he ate, he pondered on the choices that had led him here, to this moment.
Life had a way of surprising him, offering brief glimpses of what could be, if only he dared to step off his well-trodden path.
Finished with his meal, he left a generous tip and continued his exploration of the town.
He found himself drawn to the old church, its crumbling fa?ade a testament to the passage of time.
He entered through the heavy wooden doors, greeted by the cool, dim interior.
The silence was profound, offering a respite from the noise of his thoughts.
He sat in a pew, allowing the peace to wash over him.
For the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of clarity.
This town, with its unpretentious charm, held a promise of renewal.
It was a place where he could rediscover himself, away from the demands and expectations that had shaped his life.
As he left the church, he knew that this was not just a fleeting visit.
It was the beginning of something new, a chapter waiting to be written.
With renewed purpose, he returned to his car, ready to embrace whatever lay ahead.
He had chosen well, indeed.
*****
“More tea?”
Shaking her head with a laugh, Zahra passed the cup to her friend.
“You have poured so much into me; I will be peeing for the rest of the day.
And I have to get going.”
“Girl, sit and relax.”
Sandra waved a beringed hand negligently and sank down on the plush ottoman, a brooding expression on her attractive face.
“We have yet to come up with a solution to my problems.”
She shook her head at her friend’s raised brows.
“I am pregnant and hormonal, so sue me.”
“It seems to me that all you have to do is to ask Brian to stay out of the nursery.
You want to wallpaper the room in baby blue and daffodil yellow.
He wants brighter colors.”
Picking up a stuffed elephant, she cradled the softness and felt the familiar yearning rocking her senses.
She placed the elephant back with a wistful sigh.
“Sandra, sometimes men just need a little nudge in the right direction.
Have you considered showing him some examples of what you envision? Maybe if he sees it, he’ll understand the warmth and tranquility you’re aiming for.”
Sandra’s eyes softened as she considered this.
“You might be right.
I could create a mood board with colors and themes.
Brian is more visual, after all. But,”
she paused, a mischievous glint forming in her eye, “that still doesn’t solve the issue of him wanting to put up that horrid neon sign.”
Zahra laughed, feeling the tension lift from the room.
“Ah, the perils of decorating! Perhaps you can convince him to compromise - find a sign that’s a bit more subtle, something both of you can live with.
It’s all about finding balance, right?”
Sandra nodded, her expression thoughtful.
“Balance, yes.
I can work with that.”
She and Zahra had met two months after Zahra had arrived in town and started working on the inn.
Sandra was originally from New York and had discovered that Zahra was from the Manhattan area as well.
They had started talking when Zahra wandered into her fabric store one breezy afternoon.
And right then and there, they had struck up a friendship that had only grown stronger.
Sandra had come to the tiny town to visit and recover from a very nasty divorce and had met and fell in love with local lawyer Brian Ware and never looked back.
“Do you ever miss it?”
Zahra asked her quietly.
Her friend gave her a quick glance before taking a sip of the now cooling brew.
“No.
My life there was chaotic, as I told you before.
I was married to a bigshot Wall Street guy with a staggering need to succeed and he turned out to be an asshole.”
A contemplative expression settled on her attractive face.
“We would fight about everything.
And we were miserable.
I knew he was cheating on me, but I did not want to face the truth of it.”
A smile touched her lips.
“Brian treats me like a queen, and it took me a hell of a long time to stop looking for an ulterior motive, for the other shoe to drop, for him to start stepping out on me.
Because I brought my past into the relationship, I almost lost him.”
She pressed a hand to her bulging stomach.
“So, no.
I am happy.
I was done with the fricking bright lights and frenzied and frenetic pace anyway.” She glanced at Zahra. “You?”
“Not in a million years.”
*****
The inn was poised on top of a hill, like a graceful bride wearing her wedding white.
And surrounded by dazzling colors.
Green, red, sunny yellows, purple, pink, orange.
It reminded him of the rainbow bursting through the sky at the end of the storm.
The winding driveway was cobbled, and he could hear stones crunching beneath the tires.
Taking a moment, he switched the engine off to just sit and inhale the fresh air and admire the place.
Trees waved their leaves in the stiff breeze.
Sounds of birds chirping added to the atmosphere.
There was an outdoor area with tables with striped umbrellas and chairs placed strategically and tidily around them.
The grass was lush and moist from the recent rain.
The place itself was three stories tall, and the windows glistened as if someone had used a loving hand to give them a shine.
And it was quiet.
That was what struck him the most.
It reminded him of a cathedral he had visited in the South of France.
Hushed and dignified.
Shaking his head at the fanciful thought, he touched the buttons controlling the windows before shoving the door open and stepping out.
Going around to the back, he retrieved his suitcase.
Inside, the atmosphere was just as inviting.
The foyer was expansive with polished wooden floors and high ceilings adorned with elegant chandeliers.
The light streaming through the large windows created a warm and welcoming ambiance.
Portraits and artworks, some depicting the inn’s history, lined the walls, adding a touch of heritage and charm.
The woman who greeted him with a beaming smile had an ample girth and bright blue eyes.
“Mr.
Whitney, welcome to Serenity Hill.
Just leave your bags right there by the fireplace and I will take them up for you.
Ms.
Zahra is out for the moment and will be back later. You were not expected until tonight.”
The first thing that struck him was the unusual name.
He had known someone by that name, surely - he shook his head.
It couldn’t be.
“I hope I have not inconvenienced anyone with my early arrival.”
Placing his cases in front of the hearth where a cheerful fire was simmering, he approached the quaint little front desk.
And was relieved to see that he had not been recognized.
“Not at all.
Let’s get you checked in and there is a tray of refreshment in the dining room with your name on it.”
His thick brows lifted.
“Even though I am hours ahead of schedule?”
“Even so.”
The woman laughed, eyes twinkling.
“We are always prepared.
And I saw you driving up.
You’re in suite twelve.
We serve breakfast, lunch and dinner. But if you prefer to take a stroll into town and have dinner there, you only have to let us know.”
“I will. Thanks.”
He accepted the key.
“What do you think of the place?”
“It’s quite enchanting.
Like a place in a storybook.”
“My name is Jessica, by the way.”
“Oh, please call me Bryce.”
He waited for the recognition and when the woman simply nodded and came around the desk, he felt a twinge of what? Disappointment? Surely not.
He was happy for the anonymity.
“This way please.”
*****
“The guest has arrived and he’s a handsome one.”
“Mr. Whitney?”
Zahra had decided to stop and pick up some fruit as well to make a compote.
The visit with Sandra had taken up much of her time, with her friend insisting on her looking at the nursery.
“He’s very early.
I should come back…”
“No rush.”
Jessica told her firmly.
“I fed him and showed him to his suite, and he’s settled.
I am just letting you know.”
“He should have let us know that he was going to be arriving ahead of schedule.”
Picking up a cantaloupe, she tested for softness.
“He said it was a spur of moment thing.
Take your time.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.
See you later.”
Hanging up, Zahra tucked her phone into her tote and continued moving around to pick up the things she needed.
He was her only guest at the moment and would be staying for several weeks.
Putting that thought away, she concentrated on her shopping.
*****
Bryce took a moment to explore his suite.
The room was tastefully decorated with a blend of antique and modern furnishings, creating a cozy yet sophisticated atmosphere.
The large window offered a breathtaking view of the rolling hills and the lush gardens below.
He could already feel the tension of his travels easing as he took in the serene surroundings.
As he unpacked his belongings, he couldn’t shake off the curiosity about Ms.
Zahra.
The name seemed to linger in his mind, stirring vague memories.
But he dismissed the thought, attributing it to the fatigue of his journey.
Deciding to take advantage of the peaceful afternoon, Bryce made his way to the dining room.
The tray of refreshments awaited him, just as Jessica had promised.
He selected a delicate porcelain cup and poured himself some tea, savoring the rich aroma.
The assortment of pastries and fruits looked enticing, and he helped himself to a few treats, feeling more at ease with each bite.
After his light meal, Bryce wandered through the inn, marveling at the intricate details and the evident care put into maintaining the place.
Each room he passed seemed to tell a story, and he felt a growing sense of anticipation for what the coming weeks would hold.
He found his way to the garden, where the vibrant colors and fragrant blooms provided a perfect backdrop for reflection.
As he strolled along the pathways, he noticed a small gazebo tucked away in a corner.
Intrigued, he approached it and took a seat, letting the tranquility of the garden envelop him.
The gentle rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds created a soothing symphony, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected retreat.
Tucking his hands into the pockets of his faded designer jeans, he lifted his face to the sky and closed his eyes, taking in the fresh air.
It was peaceful.
The woman, Jessica, had told him that he was the only guest at the moment, and he preferred that.
There was a chance he would be recognized, but he was hoping it would take a while, so that he could at least spend some time basking in this new experience.
He had spent his life in the limelight.
Even as a child, he had not been able to go anywhere without paparazzi trailing him and his nannies.
Pictures had been snapped and splashed on the front pages of tabloids.
His life was dissected, rumors circulated and speculations the order of the day.
If they could not find anything, they would make something up.
He could not step out for a cup of coffee, without being photographed.
It had become frustrating and exhausting.
His agent had reminded him that it was what he signed up for.
The only escape he had found was in the solace of places like this, where anonymity afforded him a semblance of normalcy.
Bryce had learned to cherish these moments, however fleeting they might be.
He was here at his assistant’s discretion, who had assured him that the inn was a haven far removed from the chaos of his public life.
He trusted the man’s judgment implicitly, and so far, it seemed like a wise decision.
Bryce's thoughts drifted to his hostess.
He wondered what kind of person she was, managing such a serene establishment.
He imagined her to be someone who valued peace and quiet, just as he did.
Perhaps they shared some common ground.
For now, he was content to let the garden's tranquility wash over him, a welcome respite from the unceasing demands of fame.
After a while, Bryce rose and made his way back inside, feeling rejuvenated by his time outdoors.
The inn's warm ambiance welcomed him as he wandered through the hallways, each corner whispering tales of history and care.
He found himself drawn to the library, where rows of books beckoned invitingly.
Taking a seat in a plush armchair, he selected a novel from the shelf and settled in, losing himself in the world of fiction, where he could be anyone but himself.
*****
“Is he already in his suite?”
“I think he was headed there.
He took a walk out in the gardens and was out there for a while.”
Jessica took the bags from her.
“Get off your feet and have something to eat.”
“I ate at Sandra’s and had pastries shoved at me from every direction.”
She told her friend with a laugh.
“I am officially full.”
“Some tea then?”
“I have had my fill of the brew.”
She sat at the small dining table and took off her boots.
“Sandra insisted on me keeping her company and kept the cups filled.” She rubbed the back of her neck.
“You’re tired.”
“Exhausted!”
She agreed.
“I will just sit a while and then go on up.
Are you sure our guest is settled in?”
“He is.
I am going to put away these and then head on home.
I have plans to put my feet up and watch some black and white.”
“I think I am going straight to bed after you’re gone.
There is the fair tomorrow followed by the concert.”
“We cannot miss any of it.”
*****
He had fallen asleep.
His eyes flickered open to a darkened room with just the glow of the moon sliding through the emerald, green drapes.
When he had taken off his boots and stretched out on the sofa, he had no idea.
And marveled that he had been so contented and relaxed, sleep had just claimed him.
The book he had been reading was open on his chest and slid to the hardwood floor as he sat up suddenly.
It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the shadows.
Swinging his legs off the cushions, he stretched languidly and glanced at his watch, surprised to see that it was not quite 9.00 pm.
Rubbing his hands over his face, he was about to rise, when he heard a sound outside the door before it was pushed open.
The light streaming from the hallway highlighted her clearly and he felt the shock and awareness trembling through his entire body.
He had felt something when he heard the name and never dreamed that it was the same person.
He knew her.
Good God! It was Zahra, his Zahra from his teenage year.
His first.
Sensations slammed inside him, and he felt the memories cramming inside him, leaving him dizzy.
He rose unsteadily, hands trembling.
She did not know it was him yet, of course.
“Zahra.”
The deep voice had her switching on the light.
As soon as it flooded the room and she saw clearly who it was, she just stood there, staring.
One hand went to her bosom, and she felt the breath whooshing out of her.
She had not picked up on it.
Bryce Whitlock was here in her inn.
Her first love, the boy who had left without a word and never reached out to her again, was here in her inn.
It was bizarre, surely something she was hallucinating about.
He started forward, stopping when she held out a hand as if to ward him off.