Chapter 1
Elle “Pixie” Workman
Who would have thought that I would ever crave the quiet not living in the city provides? Me, Miss Party All Night, Sleep All Day, has found peace in the muted sounds of the sunrise. With coffee, not an energy drink. And after a full night’s sleep, not still wearing my club clothes and hung over. After a week, I’m itching to get back to Boulder Canyon, the small town my brother lives in. I went to stay with him a couple of months ago and found something I didn’t have in the city we grew up in.
My mind stops being negative in the quiet. I revel in the moments I’m alone. My creativity has returned and I want to spend hours with my canvas and paints.
It’s only been a week, and I rushed through everything I needed to do in order to get back to the small apartment in what feels like the middle of nowhere. I loaded my Jeep with more of my stuff and I’ve informed my brother that I’m staying for longer than I initially thought. And after the last week, I’m not sure I’ll ever come back to Diamond Cove and live again.
When my phone cuts off the music, I answer with a smile on my face.
“Chels! What’s going on?”
Chelsea is one of my best friends. She started working for my brother, Nolan, about three years ago, and we’ve become close. She’s this beautiful, natural redhead, with height and curves I’d kill for, and she has the sweetest little boy, Dylan, and I love them both. They might be the only things I miss other than my studio. I need to figure out a way to set one up in Boulder Canyon ASAP.
“Have you fled the city already?” she asks, a smile in her voice. She is perpetually happy, something my brother hates.
“On my way out now. I don’t know what it is, but the Cove is just too loud now. And the people. Were there always so many damn people?”
She laughs, and I can feel her rolling her eyes. “Elle, the sounds and population haven’t changed in the two months you’ve been in hiding.”
“I know this, but why do I all the sudden hate it? Oh, God, am I getting old?”
“You’re thirty-one years old. No, you aren’t old. Because if you’re old, I’m old, and I’m still young and hip and stuff.” Chelsea continues to laugh.
“Whatever. I feel old. Like I want to yell ‘get off my lawn’ or something to some hooligans.”
“You are such a smartass,” she laughs again. “And now that I’ve let you bitch and whine, what the hell happened last weekend at the benefit?”
“Stefon happened.” I sigh.
“What? The guy you broke it off with before you left?”
“You mean the guy that caused me to leave?”
“Back up, lady. You said it ended, and you needed a break.”
“Yeah, about that…” I trail off.
“Spill it,” Chelsea demands.
“He got weird. Like, started showing up places I was when we weren’t supposed to see each other.”
“Okay. Places like where?”
“Like the grocery store. My doctor’s office. The restaurant I was at for family dinner. Outside the Workman offices once or twice when I’d come see you or Nolan.”
“That does seem…excessive.”
“And once I told him I didn’t think we should see each other, he started showing up at the studio. He said it was to see the new art show, but he came every day for over a week and would stand at the bottom of the stairs. He never looked at the art, Chels. Just stood where I would come out of my studio and wouldn’t say anything.”
“Creepy.”
“Exactly. But it wasn’t until I saw him outside my home that I really got creeped out. That’s when I decided I needed to get out. And then this weekend happened.”
“Yeah?” she questions, and I can see her rolling her hands in a get on with it motion. That she’s letting the stalker-ish behavior go tells me she’s reserving judgement—for now.
“He was at the benefit. As a cater-waiter.”
“Isn’t he supposed to be some big art buyer?”
“That’s what he told me the entire time we dated.”
“Maybe money is tight and he picked up a second job?”
“No. He told me. He dressed up as a server because I wouldn’t see him and he needed to see me. Said he had an artist I needed to include in the next show or things would go bad for me. He never told me who the artist was, Chels. He just stared at me with glassy eyes and a grip on my arm. Like he wasn’t really there.”
“What did you do?”
“I grabbed one of the security guys who was making the rounds and had him removed. You’d think that was the end of it, right? But it wasn’t.”
“What happened?”
“I stayed in town after Tiny and Lottie went back to Boulder Canyon so I could pack up some more things and set up a service for the apartment and talk to Jorge at the studio. I just needed to ensure that everything here would be taken care of so I could leave again.”
“Like the responsible adult you are.”
“Jorge said some couple had been coming in almost every day and making remarks about an up-and-coming local artist who should be on our walls. I asked what they looked like, and I swear, the man was Stefon with a wig.”
“Did they give the artist’s name?”
“Stefanie Deveraux.”
“That name sounds familiar. Should it?”
“That’s just it. I thought it did, too. And all I could find was a Stefanie Devore. She’s local, and a couple of years ago, she was arrested for doing this nude art thing outside the art department at the college.”
“That’s right! She stood outside in the winter naked with a sign that said ‘Paint me’ and when she was covered, she rolled around on a canvas and called it art.” Chelsea snorts at the memory.
“Right. And then was promptly arrested for public indecency. Anyway, I looked her picture up and then watched the cameras from the studio. The woman is definitely her, but the man never made face contact with any of the cameras. Like he knew where they were and avoided them.”
“That’s kinda odd, Elle.”
“What’s even odder is that I have an application for every show I’ve put on the last few years from her, under Devore. And I turned her down every time because, if I’m being honest, Chels, her work isn’t really show worthy.”
“She’s not a good artist?”
I blow out a breath. I hate calling someone a bad artist. “She just wasn’t what we were looking for at the time.”
“You’re too nice,” Chelsea laughs.
“But they never showed up when I was there.”
“So, she’s going by a new name to make her seem, what? French?”
“I don’t know. But I had to get out of there. I felt like I had eyes on me the whole time, like someone was watching me, you know?”
“Do you think he was watching you?”
“I don’t know, but something is off there, and I don’t like it. At least in BC, I know they are staring at me because of my hair. Not because they want to throw me in their trunk and hack me into pieces.”
“Elle!” Chelsea exclaims. “That is not funny!”
“It was a little bit.” I smirk to myself.
“No. It wasn’t.”
“Fine. Sorry.”
“Are you almost there?”
“Yeah, almost. Trying to decide if it’s even worth going to the apartment first or straight to Lottie’s house.”
“Lottie’s house,” we both say together, laughing.
We finish our conversation as I pull into the cute little town. The blemish of the animal clinic boarded up makes me sad, but I know my brother will have that cleaned up and Lottie will be back to work soon. I take my first full breath in over a week as I pull off the main street and into the neighborhood. This is where I belong.
What I did not expect when I pulled onto Lottie’s street was to be met with what looks like twenty cars and the entire police station outside her house. I hurriedly pull off and park behind a truck, throw open my door, and jump from my Jeep.
“Ma’am,” an officer calls my name. “You can’t go in there.”
“The hell I can’t!” I yell at him. “My brother and future sister and niece are in there and I’m going in!”
He looks at another officer who nods, and they let me through. I race to the door and throw it open to rush inside.
“What the fuck is going on and why didn’t someone call me? Is everyone alright? Where’s Nat? Someone tell me what’s going on or I swear I’ll fuck everyone in this room up! Anyone? Right now! Someone tell me something!”
“Pixie!” Tiny yells my name. “Can’t tell you anything if you don’t shut the fuck up.”
“Shutting!” I reply, zipping my lips closed.
“Everyone is alright,” he begins. “Nat saw a stranger outside and got scared.”
“Fuck. Were you having a party when this happened?”
Tiny sheepishly looks at Lottie, who smirks at him. “Umm, they might have been notified there was someone outside of the house?”
“You secretly set up security on her, didn’t you?” I ask, punching his arm.
“No?” he replies, but it’s more of a question.
“Idiot. You know we all love her, and are counting on you not to fuck things up!”
“I know, okay. I know. We just got…busy and I haven’t had a chance to tell her yet. That’s all! I swear I wasn’t trying to hide it from her.”
“God, you’re a fucking moron, you know that, right?”
He smiles at me and pulls me into a hug. Like he knows I need to feel him to know he’s alright. My brother might be a moron, and lord knows he’s full of stupid ideas, but I know everything he does is with his whole heart and wanting to keep those he loves safe.
And, if this isn’t a welcome home, I don’t know what is.