Chapter 3
Publix turned out to be a nicer grocery store than she’d been expecting. It was no Trader Joe’s or Whole Foods, but it had a great selection and beautiful produce.
She shopped carefully. Produce would only last so long, so as tempting as it was to go overboard, there was no point in buying too much food that would spoil before she could eat it. The realization that she’d be forced to shop again sooner than she’d hoped made her roll her eyes at her own plans. But there was no other option if she wanted fresh fruits and vegetables.
She focused on salad ingredients and some fruit before checking out the bakery. There were plenty of tempting offerings, including a cranberry walnut breakfast bread that looked like the perfect thing to have with coffee in the morning.
She filled her cart judiciously and still ended up with it nearly overflowing. Archie’s preferred brand of dog food was available fortunately. She got the biggest bag and put it on the bottom of her cart. She also got him some of the refrigerated wet food he liked.
Her final run was through the dairy department, where she stocked up on eggs, butter, yogurt, and cottage cheese.
The cart was so full and so heavy, she had to lean into it to get it moving again. She made her way to the registers and happily found an open lane. She went to it and started unloading her cart onto the conveyer. She grabbed a few of the cloth shopping bags they had for sale and added them to her purchases.
While she was unloading, her gaze skimmed the magazines and gossipy newspapers on sale in the checkout aisle.
Star Newshad a photo of her, just a small one, thankfully, in the upper lefthand corner with a headline under it that read, “Mystery woman breaks Ford’s heart.”
She frowned at the image and went back to her groceries. Maybe that’s all it would amount to. One small photo. One sort of true headline. She could live with that. She hoped.
But seeing that photo made her feel like a spotlight had suddenly flared to life over her head. She quickly got the rest of her groceries out of the cart and onto the belt. Once they were bagged and back in her cart, she put her sunglasses back on, and stuck her credit card in the reader. As soon as the machine beeped, she grabbed her cart, and headed for the exit.
She was almost there when the bag boy ran after her. “Ma’am. Ma’am!”
She took a deep breath. Had he recognized her? “Yes?”
“Your dog food. Under the cart. We forgot to ring it up.”
She exhaled. “Oh. Sorry about that. I forgot it was under there.”
“I can take care of this at one of the self-checkout stations. Won’t take a minute. Right this way.”
She followed him, paid, and was on her way once again. Loading the car took some time, but it gave her a moment to calm down. She’d overreacted, that was all. No one out here cared who she’d been involved with. This wasn’t L.A., where everyone lived like they were under a microscope.
Still, she was ready to get back to Hideaway Bay. Back to seclusion and safety.
At the end of the causeway, she turned left into the entrance of Hideaway Bay. This time at the guard shack, she didn’t have to show ID or her paperwork proving her ownership of the house. She’d done that when she’d first arrived. Now she had a small disc affixed to her windshield that alerted the guard on duty that she belonged.
The gate lifted as she drove forward onto Queen Palm Way, the main road that serviced all of Hideaway Bay. It made a giant loop that ran past the clubhouse, community center, and tennis courts down to one end of the development then back up to the guard shack.
Hideaway Bay was an odd name, she thought as she drove through. There was no bay. But maybe whoever had developed the place liked the rhyme.
The lots were large and the driveways long, since the houses were set away from the road to be closer to the water. She passed the entrance to the marina. Each property was shielded on the sides by thick swathes of palms, evergreens, and live oaks to give the owners as much privacy as possible. Some people had thinned them out a little, but no one had taken them down completely.
She approved. She had no plans to change anything about the landscaping at the house. Maintaining it would be hard enough. She turned down the drive. The landscaping around the house wasn’t in need of any maintenance, however. That meant someone had been keeping it up. Or was that one of the perks of living in Hideaway Bay?
She doubted that. It might be one of the perks of inheriting a house from Arlington Marsh, though. Along with the house, she’d received a notification that an account had been set up to pay for the utilities and taxes on the house for the next five years.
Maybe Arlington had included the groundskeeping in that? She’d have to look through the paperwork, something she’d yet to do, to find out if it was part of the deal.
She parked so that she was backed in to make unloading easier, then began the arduous task of hauling everything into the house. She used the elevator again, taking a small load at first so she could check on Archie.
He was still asleep in his bed, but woke when she came into the bedroom, giving her a little wag of his tail.
“Hi, baby. I’m home. Everything good?” Seemed so. “I have to get the rest of the groceries in, then we’ll hang out, okay?”
After she took a shower, that was. She’d been driving most of the day and although she’d taken a shower at the motel this morning, she felt like she needed another one. And then something to eat. While watching something mindless on that enormous television. In her pajamas.
Only a couple more hours until sunset. That had to qualify as pajama time.
She went back downstairs, loaded up with more bags, and made the trek to the kitchen again.
On her last trip, she got the feeling she was being watched. She looked up and saw a man through the trees. He was on the property next door, so clearly not trespassing, but it was still unnerving to be stared at the way he was. Like he was assessing her in case he had to make a police report.
She should have put something on besides her ragged denim shorts and an old T-shirt, but it was too late now.
She thought before she responded. She might be here a while. She didn’t need to get off on the wrong foot with anyone. Especially not being the new person on the block. She smiled, closed-lip, and waved. “Hello.”
He kept staring, brow furrowed. “You’re not one of Arlington’s relatives.”
“No, I’m a friend of his.”
“You don’t look like a friend of his.”
“What do they look like, exactly?”
The man hmphed out a low sound. “Who are you?”
“Your new neighbor. Arlington left me the house.” She really wasn’t interested in this conversation. The man clearly didn’t like her without even knowing who she was. “Shame about his passing. I’m sure everyone here must miss him.”
The man’s brow unfurrowed slightly. “He was a good man.”
“One of the best.” She picked up the rest of her bags. “Have a nice night.”
He hmphed again.
She tapped the fob to lock the car, then went inside. Arlington’s neighbor might not like her, but part of the beauty of this place seemed to be that if you wanted to be left alone, you could be.
Putting the groceries away took forever, but she was happy to get everything organized. Funny how that huge cart full of food amounted to so little when it was actually stored. The fridge still looked mostly bare.
Of course, some of what she’d bought had gone into the pantry and another portion of it had gone into the laundry room.
For dinner, she planned a salad with some pre-sliced chicken breast. Not generally her go-to, but she didn’t have the energy to cook, with all that entailed. Tonight, and possibly the next few days, needed to be easy.
Archie came out to eat.
“I’m taking a shower and then we’re hitting that couch, baby dog.”
That reminded her that she wanted to put a towel or a blanket down for him. This might be her place now, but that was all the more reason to take care of it and the things in it.
She opened the door to the walk-in closet where she planned to hang some of her things. The scent of Arlington’s cologne wafted over her. Probably from the clothes left behind.
She smiled. Then sniffled as unexpected tears came. They were for Arlington, for his amazingly kind gift of this house, but they were also for herself. Her broken heart. And her uncertain future.
She knuckled the tears away. “Enough of that.”
There were extra linens on one of the highest shelves. She grabbed a blanket and took it into the great room, where she spread it over half of the couch. Archie’s half. She clicked her tongue to get his attention.
When he looked over, she patted the blanket. “This is all you. I’m going to shower. Be back in a minute.”
He went back to his kibble.
She went back to the master bedroom.
Her suitcase was right where she’d left it, but where else would it be? She maneuvered it onto one of its wide sides, then unzipped it and dug out her toiletry kit and a pair of pajamas. Her traveling pajamas, the ones with pants and a matching top.
They were what she wore when she stayed at someone’s house or at a nice hotel. Anywhere she might be seen by a friend or a member of staff. She realized that wouldn’t be the case here, but they felt like the right things to put on.
The shower was roomy, the water hot, the pressure strong enough to beat most of the tension out of her muscles. There was body wash, shampoo, and conditioner in the shower already. Expensive stuff left behind by Arlington and his last wife, Lisa.
Lisa had been left a large sum of money and the main house in the Hollywood Hills. Apparently, that had been enough to keep her from saying anything to Harper about getting this one.
Harper used the shampoo, conditioner, and body wash she’d brought. She realized she was acting like a guest in what was now her own home, but it didn’t feel like home.
Her home in L.A. was a two-bedroom apartment on the second floor of a converted house with a view of…not much. She could see into the neighbor’s driveway and a little into the backyard, which was a postage stamp of grass. This place was obviously a lot nicer. It was just hard to think of it as hers.
Maybe that would sink in after a few days.
She dried off, wrapped a towel around her hair, and got into her pajamas. Out in the living room, Archie was laying on the blanket she’d set out for him. When he saw her, he rolled over and showed his tummy.
“You like that couch, don’t you?” She leaned on the back of it and smiled at him. “Goofy dog. I’m going to make a salad then come sit with you.”
The salad came together fast, since most of it was already prepped. She sliced up some veggies, tossed in some chicken, a few toasted pumpkin seeds, and some blueberries, then drizzled a little poppyseed dressing on.
She was just about to sit on the couch with Archie and attempt to decipher the television remote when she heard her phone going off.
Could be someone seeking to confirm if that was her in the pictures with Ford, but it could be a client, so she had to check. She put her salad bowl on the coffee table and dug her phone out of her purse.
She recognized the number and hoped it wasn’t more bad news. She wasn’t sure she could take anything else happening right now. She answered. “Hi, Frankie.”
“Hi, Harry. I mean Harper. Sorry. Anyway, it’s your sister.”
“I know. That’s why I said, ‘Hi, Frankie,’ and not, ‘Who is this’.” Harper rolled her eyes in amusement.
“Right. Lots on my mind, I guess,” Frankie said with more than a modicum of amusement.
Harper sat on the couch and slouched back against the cushion. She put her bare feet on the edge of the coffee table. “You okay? What’s going on?”
“You know, the usual crap. But I didn’t call about me. I called because it’s not every day your sister is all over the news.”