Chapter 1 #2
"Does it?" She turned to stare at herself in the floor to ceiling windowpane.
What she saw was a tall, lanky woman with too small breasts and not enough hips.
The only thing she loved about her appearance was the flawless ebony complexion and wide spaced mahogany eyes.
Turning away, she faced her friend. "The blonde look is starting to grow on me. "
Shaking her head at the look on her friend's face, she added, "It's not as dire as you're making it out to be. New look, new life."
Her smile faded. "I've packed everything up. The power suits I used to wear to the firm, fetched a very good price on eBay. People are eager to own a piece of a disgraced lawyer." A mirthless smile touched her lips. "I also received an offer from a prestigious publishing house to tell my story."
Amelia's expression turned stony with disgust. "Those damn vultures. You told them to go screw themselves of course."
Aria shook her head. "They were offering a lot of money, saying things like Netflix would be interested in a movie deal.
" Turning away from the window and the view, she sat on the butter soft leather sofa.
"It might be something to think about. Seeing as I have no other career prospects, I might give it some thought. "
"You don't mean that." Amelia crossed over to sit next to her. "You have more than enough money and there's the inheritance from your maternal grandparents."
Tears welled as she thought of the couple who had loved her.
William and Isabel had loved her unconditionally.
It was at their place she had known the true meaning of being loved.
Their deaths had left an empty hole inside her heart.
Blinking away the tears, she bit her lip and shrugged away the painful memories.
Her expression turned brisk. "I believe you have some papers for me to sign?"
Blowing out a breath and still not certain what to make of her friend's altered appearance, Amelia opened her briefcase and sat. "It's all clear cut. The couple are eager to move in."
"I'm sure they are." Steeling herself not to feel anything, she signed away the place she had called home for years.
*****
She was on the road. It felt somehow interesting and weirdly liberating.
She was going on a clean slate. With that in mind and only that, she had traded her BMW convertible for a sturdy and reliable Nissan.
The salesman had not recognized her and for that she was grateful.
It was amazing what a haircut and a brand-new color would do.
She was no longer wearing the chic and stylishly expensive suits she favored when she went to the firm.
In defiance she had traded those for mostly denims and casual slacks.
Her father had never approved of jeans, not even when she was a teenager.
In one rebellious moment when she was a senior in high school, she had pierced her left lobe three times, as well as her navel and her left nostril. Not only that, but she had gone the extra mile and added a tattoo, a red and gold butterfly on her upper right thigh.
Her mother had been very upset and worried at what her husband would make of it.
Pressing her lips together, she recalled sitting at the twenty-chair dining table, waiting with bated breath for his comment. When he merely continued to partake of his meal, she had brought it up.
She would never forget the look on his attractive face. Flicking a cool and completely disinterested look at her, he commented, "If you want to be stupid and bore holes in your skin, then by all means."
"I also got a tattoo."
She had blurted out, stung by his lack of interest.
"Your mother told me. Are you planning on getting any more?"
"No sir." She had mumbled.
"Then there's no need to continue talking about it."
He had resumed his meal without another word.
Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as she zipped onto the highway.
She had worked so hard to get his approval and even one word of encouragement.
Nothing. Neither of them had ever said 'I love you'.
She supposed it was why she was so emotionally crippled.
Why she was thirty-two and had only two serious relationships under her belt.
The first had been in law school, with the son of a friend of the family. The second had been an associate at her father's law firm. The two men had been people her father had approved of.
Taking a deep breath, she punched in a Lionel Richie and turned it up until it was blasting inside the car.
The growling of her stomach reminded her that she had been traveling since dawn this morning and only had a cup of coffee before she left. Glancing at her GPS, she noticed that she was about to approach a rest stop. And it was almost noon. Touching her left indicator, she made the turn.
And she was out of gas. Blowing out a breath, she also realized how spoiled and privileged she had been.
She had a choice between her BMW and the Mercedes Benz convertible, the company vehicle, and had never had to gas up either of them.
Sylvan Copeland had someone who gassed up the vehicles.
At the manor, there had been a twelve-car garage and not once had she or her mother had to stop at a gas station.
Everything had always been done for them.
Or at least for her mother. Miriam never did a day's work in her life and always had someone picking up after her.
Her husband had controlled the household. It had disturbed Aria to realize that her mother was given an allowance. She had questioned it once, only to have her mother tell her quite firmly that it was none of her business.
"Your father works so hard to give us this life and we ought to be grateful to him."
Pulling into an empty slot, she switched off the engine.
It was when she went to lift the nozzle, she remembered she did not have cards but was strictly a cash carrying girl now.
Laughing softly, she replaced the nozzle and went to drive out of the slot.
She was going to have to go in and pay at the counter.
Parking at the convenience store, she sat and stared out at the people coming and going.
A couple, holding hands, talking, and laughing came out of the swing doors.
The guy, blonde and built, was whispering something in the brunette's ear, making her laugh.
They huddled together as if they could not bear to be away from each other.
Tearing her eyes away, she opened her tote and reached for her purse.
Checking the sizable case tucked into a corner of the bag, she selected two twenties.
An amused smile touched her lips as she also recalled the bank manager's horrified expression when she told him she wanted to withdraw ten grand.
"Ms. Copeland, I would not advise..."
"It's my money, Mr. Wright and I can pretty much do whatever the hell I want with it."
"I am aware..."
"I really do not have time for this and as you're also aware, my father is dead. Murdered. Which means there's no one left to tell me what to do. Now, I'm in a hurry and would like to be on my way."
That had shut him up and hurried him along.
She had given up her credit and debit cards. From now on she would be using cash only. That way, she would not have anyone tracing her. Reporters were relentless and a story like hers would be fuel for a lot of fires.
Shoving the door open, she hopped out and went to pay for the gas.
*****
She had been driving for another four hours, when she saw the sign.
'Welcome to Birchwood. Population 10,000. Home of the best corns, apples, potatoes and so much more. Proud to be home of the Tierneys as well.'
Slowing down, she studied the sign and felt a strange pull inside her stomach. She would check it out. Maybe stay here for the night or a couple of days. She did not exist on a set schedule and could pretty much do anything she wanted, and it looked like a quiet little town.
The further she drove, the more delighted she was. Cornfields stretched for miles, before she came upon a quaint little bridge overlooking a stunning river. Boats were moored, bobbing up and down the water and ranged from the elegant to the roughly hewn.
And people, mostly men were sitting on the dock smoking, with fishing poles dangling in the water.
What looked like a restaurant was to one side, near enough to the water to afford a lovely view. There was an outdoor area, and people were sitting at tables, enjoying their meals.
And she was hungry again. The waffles, eggs and bacon at the fast-food restaurant had worn off quickly. Finding a parking spot, she hopped out and stretched her legs and back before making her way to the ramshackle building.
The proprietor was an enormous woman, wearing a stained apron and a welcoming smile. Light green eyes sized her up as soon as she entered.
"Howdy stranger. Grab a table and I'll be right with you." Her eyes swung over to an old man hobbling out the doors. "Gus, you left your damn cane. It's a wonder you don't keel over and break those brittle bones of yours."
The man, instead of being offended, turned and gave her a toothy grin. "You'd sure miss me Anna. I know how much you love me."
"Damn fool." Anna muttered. Leaving her place around the counter, she grabbed the cane and gave it to him before crossing over to the table Aria had chosen.
"Love the hair and the skin."
"Thanks. Is the dumpling stew any good?"
Anna lifted her shaggy brown brows. "Is the sky still blue?"
Aria lifted her eyes and smiled easily. "I don't know. Last time I checked it was a pearl pink."
The woman stared at her for a second and then burst out laughing. "You'll do girlie."
Turning her head, she looked at a couple at the next table. "Is the dumpling any good?"
"The best." The man called out.
"I suppose I'll take his word for it."
"Anything else?"
"Some iced tea."
"The dumpling comes with freshly baked rolls."
Aria felt her mouth watering. "Sounds good."
Anna wrote with a flourish. "Order coming right up. Your first time here?"
"Yes."
"If you're planning on staying the night, there are some lovely beach front cottages a mile or two further in town."
"Thanks. I think I'll check them out."
Anna nodded. "Ask for Sheryl. She does the renting. Let's go and see about your order."