Chapter 1 #2
We spend three hours in the hospital where it’s determined that Aarabelle has broken her leg that will require surgery and a concussion. I call Thea to give her the update. She inhales deeply and then lets it out.
“Okay, you have to go.”
“What?” I ask, unsure what she’s referring to.
“Well, Aarabelle can’t travel, and we really need someone on the ground in Ember Falls. You go down there, handle the situation, and then come back.”
I blink, my heart beating so hard as reality hits me. This is it. My big break. Maybe that wasn’t the best choice of words since…you know…Aarabelle did break her leg, but this is the moment I’ve been waiting for.
“Are you sure, Thea?” I ask.
“Are you saying you can’t do it?”
“No!” I say a little too aggressively. “I mean…no, I can handle it.”
“Good, then that’s what you’ll do. Go pack a bag and get to Ember Falls. We’ll email you all the details before your meeting tomorrow.”
Ember Falls is a tiny little town out in the western part of Virginia. It reminds me so much of my small town in Indiana. The streets are wide and homes are speckled around the countryside. More than anything, it’s the smell of the air.
It’s like a fresh breeze on a warm day. A mix of pollen, some animal scents, but mostly trees and sunshine.
After I left the hospital, I headed straight home, packed a bag, and got on the plane.
I landed in Virginia, rented the car and made the four-hour drive to Ember Falls, yawning the entire time.
I made arrangements for Aarabelle to stay in a room above a store.
I call ahead to explain I’ll be coming instead, but that only makes the woman who owns the place even more confused.
As I hang up, I take a deep breath and assure myself I’ll sort it out once I get there.
I enter Ember Falls through the Main Street area and I can’t help but think how absolutely picturesque it is. There is a coffee shop, a pizza place, ice cream shop, and a bar and grill at the end of the street. It literally looks like something off a postcard.
I find a parking spot outside of the antique store that I’m renting the room from, park, and head inside.
“Hello?” I call out, standing at the front desk of the store.
“Hello?”
I peak my head around the side of the back wall. “Yes, is Miss Thornberry here?” I ask.
“Who?” The elderly voice replies from a distance.
“Miss Thornberry?”
“Yes.”
Yes, it’s her? Or yes, she’s here? “I’m Tessa Rivers. My co-worker, Aarabelle Dempsey, reserved a room.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know an Aarabelle.”
Of course not. “No, I know that,” I say quickly, trying to move around the store that is almost impossible to navigate. There are things everywhere. Furniture, knickknacks, stacks of old books, picture frames hanging off the furniture. It’s a maze. “Aarabelle is the name that room is rented under.”
“You want a room? I’m sorry, I rented it already.”
I clear my throat. “Miss Thornberry? Can you come out here?”
I have finally reached the point of no return in this store.
She sighs heavily, and the most adorable woman—who reminds me of my grandma— comes out to the front. Her gray hair is cut short with big curls, exactly like Granny had hers done at the beauty parlor—as she called it—every week.
“Oh, hello, I’m Mrs. Thornberry.”
I flash my winning smile. “Hello, I’m Tessa. My co-worker, Aarabelle, rented your room earlier this morning. She got injured and I’m here instead. I called to explain, but I think our connection was bad.”
Her eyes flash with recognition. “I see, and you’re staying for a week?”
“Yes, a week at a minimum. You mentioned that you might be able to extend the stay if needed?” At least that was what she said when I booked it.
Aarabelle also asked me to meet with another client who is local to this area, Penelope Walker, who is launching a rebrand of her interior design company.
I’m not sure how long things are going to take.
I don’t expect these assignments to need more than a week.
Therefore, I plan to blow them away and for these clients to be absolutely impressed with my professionalism and ability to get things done quickly.
They’ll immediately tell Brynlee and Thea that I’m a delight and they want to work with me exclusively.
I doubt that’s going to happen, but hope is never a bad thing.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
“Sure, Dempsey, I can do that. Strange name to give a girl,” she mutters, digging in a drawer. I don’t correct her because that is a conversation I don’t need to have right now. She hands me a key. “Here you are, dear. Just head up the stairs on the right.”
Since there’s only one set of stairs here and there’s no clear path to them, this should be fun. I somehow manage to navigate myself to the stairs, climbing over and under more pieces of furniture and knickknacks than I can name, and get my bag upstairs.
This place is…old.
There is a dresser that could be from the 1800s with paint peeling off the front. There is a twin bed in the middle of two windows that the center looks like it’s touching the floor as it sinks—great. And the room has a strange musty smell to it.
I place my bag on the bed, which squeaks very loudly, and walk over to find the bathroom area.
Oh my God. It’s pink.
Like bright pink tiles everywhere. The tub is pink. The floor is pink. The countertop is…yup, pink.
I didn’t even know you could have a bubblegum pink toilet, but here it is.
And that musty smell from the bedroom? It’s stronger in here.
Great.
Suddenly, I’m hoping I can get this job done even faster because staying here is going to be a freaking nightmare.
However, I can do it. I’ve endured some really difficult things in my life, and I’ll manage this one.
Instead of standing here, surveying the uninspiring living conditions for the next week, I decide to head out and get a drink and some food.
My stomach rumbles and I sigh, thankful that there’s a bar and grill just down the road.
After escaping my antique living quarters, I walk down the street, noticing more of the shops and that the coffee shop also has breakfast, where I know where I’ll be each morning.
Once I make it to the bar and step inside, it’s exactly like I imagined.
Its wood-paneled walls are decorated with various photos and neon lights , the floor is covered in black-and-white checkered tiles that are more brown now than either color, and there’s a large square bar in the center.
I find an empty seat between two groups and squeeze my way in.
“Hello there,” the bartender says as I settle onto my stool. “What can I get you?”
“Hi. Can I get a whiskey sour, please?” I ask.
“Sure thing. Are you new here?” he asks as he walks over to grab a glass and start pouring.
“Yes, I’m visiting for work.”
He nods. “In Ember Falls? What kind of work do you do?”
“Consulting,” I explain, which isn’t true, but since I don’t know anything about what the client needs, that seems like a perfectly good cover story.
He finishes the drink and sets it down. “Well, lots of folks around here probably need that.”
I smile. “Good to know. I’m always looking to expand my reach. Are you guys still serving food?”
The bartender nods. “Kitchen is open until ten. Would you like to see a menu?”
“Yes, please, I’m starving,” I explain.
“Sure thing. I’m Max and if you need anything, just holler.”
I smile. “Thanks.”
I take a sip of my drink, looking around at the crowd. There aren’t very many people my age here, most are a lot older or look like they just turned twenty-one.
Not that I’m so much older since I’m only twenty-five, but still, twenty-one feels like a million years ago.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I inwardly groan, not the least bit surprised my mother texted. Lord knows she never misses a chance for her weekly hate text about me leaving Indiana—and her.
Mom
Another week alone. No one has come by to even check on me. I thought you said I wouldn’t be alone, Tessa. You promised your move to New York wouldn’t change my life. You also said you’d visit every month. It’s been four and not one visit.
Because I’m freaking living and trying to make money. I rub my forehead. Of course my asshole brother hasn’t gone to check on her.
Sorry that Reece hasn’t stopped by, Mom. I’ll do my best to visit. Right now I’m on a business trip.
It’s also incredibly expensive to go back home, but that really isn’t her concern.
I get it, she’s alone, my brother is a prick, my father left when Reece was two months old, drained the bank account, and never came back.
She worked hard just to put food on the table and then after her car accident six years ago, she was never the same since she couldn’t work and there was no settlement.
I became the source of her frustration and have bared the brunt of it since.
And I’ve tried so hard to do what I can to be there for her, but I have to live my life.
At least that’s what my therapist tells me.
MOM
Oh. You’re traveling.
For work.
MOM
Okay, Tessa. Maybe you should work on prioritizing the people in your life who have been there for you above your career. I guess I’ll see you when you have the time.
I can literally feel her disdain from here and the guilt that only she manages to deliver so well.
But I’m a grown woman with a master’s degree and doing it all on her own. I need to stop taking care of everyone other than myself.
I put my phone away and decide to put my past, my failures as a daughter (according to my mom), and my inability to let go behind me.
I glance over the menu again, still not sure what I want as Max is busy with the very crowded bar, and sigh.
This bar reminds me of college. It was exactly like Bill’s, the bar that was down the street from my apartment in Georgia.
My college roommate, Meredith, and I spent so much of our time there.
God, that reminds me how long it’s been since I’ve talked to her, and I think she only lives an hour or so from here.
The door opens and for some reason, my attention drifts there and lands on the most incredibly sexy man.
My jaw drops as I take in his dark brown hair that has just the slightest silver dusting on the side that’s peeking out of his cowboy hat.
The dusting doesn’t make him look bad, no, it makes him look absolutely gorgeous.
Even the scruff on his jaw adds to the allure.
He locks eyes with me and then walks straight to me.
The closer he gets the more I realize he’s not just hot—he’s scorching hot. Quite possibly the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life.
And then he smiles and my heart drops as he takes the seat next to me.
Have strength, Tessa.