Chapter 17
HARPER
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A few days following the events I refused to think about—if only I could get my dreams to cooperate—I was downstairs in Starlight Cove Gazette’s office. Being in this space was like stepping back in time. The office was a fairly good size, with exposed brick walls and a tin ceiling. It held two large desks, one of which still contained an old typewriter, and a row of black metal filing cabinets along the far wall. An abandoned fax machine sat in the corner next to an outdated, oversized copy machine.
It wasn’t the fanciest office I’d ever worked in by far, but it was quiet and quaint. Mabel also always had a fresh pot of coffee brewed and waiting for me, even when she wasn’t here to greet me. And you couldn’t put a price on that.
But most importantly, Levi was nowhere in the vicinity. And apparently, that was exactly what my traitorous body needed. Especially after our first week of living together. We’d experienced more in that short time than I’d intended to in the entirety of my stay in Starlight Cove. It was time to reinforce my walls, because they were a little too close to crumbling for my comfort.
While I could work from anywhere, doing so at the public spaces in town opened me up to the possibility that I’d inadvertently run into him while I was there. Worse was attempting to work in the apartment. Especially after the kiss on the Ferris wheel. And really fucking especially after whatever the hell that was when we’d been high. Laughing? Cuddling? I’d never been high before, but surely that wasn’t normal. I had clearly lost my damn mind, and he wasn’t far behind.
The constant anticipation of his possible arrival at home was enough to derail my creative flow. Not to mention, my mind kept drifting to the other night anytime I caught sight of the couch. My focus was shit, and that made it incredibly difficult to get any work done. And my work was the entire reason I was here in Starlight Cove in the first place. The whole reason I was stuck with Levi as a roommate. I couldn’t allow myself to forget that.
The front door to the Gazette opened, the bells on the doorknob jingling and dragging me out of my thoughts.
“Oh good!” Mabel shot me a grin and strode toward me. She wore a bright-purple T-shirt that read Blow me with a picture of a dandelion and carried a plastic container in her hand. “Just the person I wanted to see.”
I minimized the search engine window and turned in my chair to face her. “Morning, Mabel. What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to apologize for the little…mix-up the other night.”
I raised a brow at her. “And what mix-up would that be?”
She glanced over both shoulders as if checking for witnesses, then turned back to me. Leaning forward, she dropped her voice into a low whisper as if we weren’t the only two people in the building. “The marijuana cookies. I swear to high heaven, it was a mistake! But I hope everything worked out okay between you and Levi. You weren’t too uncomfortable, were you?”
While it had been happening? No, I hadn’t been uncomfortable. The scary part was I didn’t know if it had been the effects of the weed or if it was just that easy to fall back into that comfort, that familiarity with Levi again. But there was no denying it had been.
And I couldn’t—wouldn’t—take the chance on it happening again. Not while I was here. Not ever.
He’d put me through the wringer once in my life, and that was more than enough. I’d lost my family, my boyfriend, and my two best friends in a single swoop. In the blink of an eye, I’d lost everything. Chase and I hadn’t reconnected until a couple years later. Which meant I’d been well and truly alone during the hardest time of my life.
Whether through self-preservation or intention, I’d continued on the same way in the years since. I’d never experienced another friendship like I’d had with those two. Even Chase’s and my friendship hadn’t recovered completely.
But more importantly, I’d never opened myself up to another relationship like I’d had with Levi. I had no intention of subjecting myself to that kind of pain ever again. Even a single night was rare. It was just easier to take care of my needs myself than it was to welcome someone into my life so intimately. Especially when I’d learned the hard way that a partner as unselfish…as hungry for me as Levi had once been wasn’t the norm.
“It was fine, Mabel,” I said. “No big deal. But I’d appreciate it if the next time you brought me cookies, they weren’t laced or replicas of Levi’s penis.”
Because God knew I didn’t need any reminders. My dreams were already off the rails with little hope of being reined in.
“Of course, dear! What are your thoughts on vulvas? I’m trying out a new cookie cutter for book club and wanted to bring a batch by as an apology.”
“For your apology?” I asked dryly.
“You could say that.” She placed the container on the desk and lifted the lid, showcasing pink-frosted vulva cookies, in a dozen different shades, shapes, and sizes. “I figure if I pass these around enough, it’ll be subliminal messaging for the men in town to go downtown a bit more, if you catch my drift. Would you believe most of the women who come to my pleasure parties say their fellas don’t ever do that particular deed? Hogwash, I tell you.”
What I did not need to be thinking about was someone going down on me. Especially when the last person to do it with any kind of hunger, finesse, or skill had been Levi. No doubt thanks to the years before we’d finally had sex, when we’d practiced by doing everything but.
“That’s…altruistic of you.”
“Look, honey, everyone should be having good sex. It makes for happier people, and the world could do with as much of that as possible, don’t you think?” She lifted the container toward me. “Well, go on. You need sustenance since you’ve been working so hard down here this week.”
“No walnuts?”
“No, ma’am. The only nuts I used were on Levi’s cookies.” Mabel cackled at her own joke, and I couldn’t help but smile along as she gestured for me to take a cookie. “How are things coming? Any chance you want to spill what you’re working on? You know, one journalist to another.”
I grabbed a treat from the container, a smirk playing on my lips. While I absolutely held journalistic confidentiality to the utmost regard, what I was here for wasn’t exactly a secret, especially at this point in my process. “I’m obviously planning to showcase Starlight Cove, but I think the slant I’m going to take is focusing on the secret of Starlight Cove. Why this tiny little town attracts so many famous people, both as permanent and seasonal residents.”
“That’s a wonderful idea! When Chase moved back, I mentioned how amazing it was that we had two famous people residing in town, both him and Aiden.” Mabel leaned toward me conspiratorially. “But it didn’t start with them, you know.”
I perked up, sitting a little straighter in my seat. While I’d found a few others so far in my research—a Nobel Prize winner, an astronaut, and an Olympic gold medalist—I was interested in whatever details Mabel could give me. She’d lived here her whole life and was a wealth of information on the town, not to mention the people who resided in it. I held up my phone between us. “You mind if I record this?”
“Of course not, honey. Let’s see, there’s old Gil Jacobson. His blueberry pie won ‘Best Pie in New England’ five years running back in the ’90s. Best I’ve ever had, and that’s the God’s honest truth. And Kelly Kramer has the largest collection of ceramic cats in the whole state! Where she’s found room for 517 of those, I’ll never know.” Mabel shook her head and chuckled. “Oh! Can’t forget about Vincent Prattle. He grows the biggest zucchini you’ve ever seen, damn near the size of a small dog. He used to win first prize at the state fair every year. But they finally had to ban him from entering a couple years ago just to give someone else a chance.”
With every objectively non-famous person Mabel ticked off, I sank back into my chair as disappointment crept in. While my editor hadn’t explicitly laid out what the focus of this article should be—had, in fact, told me to run with it however I saw fit—I wanted this piece to be something special. Something different from a run-of-the-mill article about a beautiful town on the coast. There were already hundreds, maybe even thousands, of those same stories that could be told at any number of locations across the country. I wanted this to be uniquely Starlight Cove.
Besides that, I knew if I gave the article a spin that kept people reading, my chances at that permanent position increased exponentially.
I tried not to let the disappointment show on my face, knowing I still had several weeks to do my own research, but I couldn’t help but be let down. Mabel’s testimony could have given me a jump-start on my findings or, at least, pointed me in the right direction.
“—and those goats…I tell you what, they deserved every single one of those ribbons!”
I offered her a forced smile. “I have no doubt they did. Thanks for this information, Mabel. I’m not sure I’ll need to use much”—or any—“of it, but I appreciate your insight.”
“No problem at all, honey.” Mabel’s eyes brightened as she shot me a wide smile. “Oh! I almost forgot to mention Stan.”
“Who’s Stan?”
“You know, Stan.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder, gesturing toward the front windows. “As in One Night Stan’s, the bar?”
“Wait, that’s named after someone?”
Mabel hummed in affirmation. “Oh yes. He was a very popular musician a few decades ago. ’Course, he went by a stage name back then. Now, what was it…” She trailed off, tapping a finger on her lips, then shook her head. “Can’t recall, but I’m pretty sure his band won some of those fancy gold records.”
Now, that was something I hadn’t known. Though I had a tiny flicker of a memory from my first summer here—a concert in the park, maybe? But it was buried too far under decades of other things that it wasn’t coming to me immediately.
“That’s great. Thanks, Mabel. I’ll swing by later this week and chat with Stan.”
“Gonna need a lot of luck with that, honey. Nobody’s really sure what happened with him. And his boys are pretty tight-lipped, all four of ’em. Let me tell you, they give the McKenzie boys a run for their money in grumpiness. But I know the power of a good journalist. I have all the faith that you can get some good info out of them.”