Chapter 1
Chapter One
T he front porch was spacious. That was definitely a perk. And the view was good, considering she wasn’t beachfront.
Blaise Monroe stared at the Gulf water, visible between the two houses across the street from hers. It was Thursday, but it might as well have been any day. They seemed to blend into each other lately.
She knew full well that her son thought she’d lost her mind. She was starting to wonder if he was right. Not really. Well, maybe a little bit.
She drank her last sip of coffee and went back inside, opening the door for Beau, her cuter-than-cute Maltese, to scamper ahead of her. “Let me change and we’ll go for our walk.”
The Colony was a lovely community, perfect for her now that she was both a widow and retired.
But living in a tiny home was…different.
Decades ago, when she’d first moved to New York City, she’d shared a postage stamp of an apartment with three other girls. But she’d been sixteen and full of wonder, embarking on a modeling career that both thrilled and terrified her.
Living in that miniscule three-floor walkup had been an adventure her youth was more than qualified to take on. The beginning of a life that held immense promise and possibility.
And maybe that’s what bothered her. That this new life was not a beginning at all, but an end. The culmination of that other life and the turns it had taken.
She would adapt. She always did. But it had been a series of trials.
The first had been paring down all of her belongings, including her vast wardrobe. That had been the hardest so far. After spending years as a working model doing photoshoots and walking runways, her closets had been overflowing with clothing, shoes, purses, and accessories.
But this was the life she’d decided on. The one that was supposed to bring her peace, balance, and security in her golden years.
She shed her robe in favor of black capri leggings, a black sports bra, and a slim gray tee in some kind of breathable fabric that was supposed to keep a person dry and cool. Not much chance of that in Florida in May.
She frowned. Who had named the final stage of life the golden years? Was that supposed to make a person feel better about dying? All right, she wasn’t dying in the sense that she had some incurable medical condition, but clearly she wasn’t getting younger, either.
She spritzed her face with SPF, then added a Chanel ballcap that was a bit worn, but perfect for exercise.
She pulled her hair through the space in the back.
Since she’d let her signature red hair go silver, there wasn’t much need to protect it from the sun, but shielding her face was still a good idea.
She glanced in the direction of Beau, who was, quite literally, the best dog in the entire world and her constant companion. “At least I didn’t have to sell everything, hmm? You got to keep your Louis Vuitton collar and leash, didn’t you, baby?”
And his Gucci set. Beau didn’t deserve to suffer.
She’d kept quite a few items, but had sold off more of her designer things than she liked to think about, all collected over the years of her life.
Parting with the gowns had been the easiest. Where would she ever wear those again?
But some items had been straight off the Paris runway.
A few things had been gifts from the designers themselves. Such a shame.
But what was done was done. She’d lost her husband, her fortune, and the life she once knew. This was it now.
This tiny home. This community. This place.
She had to make the best of it. Which she knew. It was why she’d RSVP’d for the book club this evening. She loved to read. Connecting with some other folks over books seemed like a great way to make new friends and start to settle in.
But knowing she’d eventually adjust to this new life did little to ease her anger over what had happened to her and how she’d been scammed. It didn’t do anything to assuage the grief she still felt three years after losing her husband. Time had helped, but did that sense of loss ever go away?
She tied her walking shoes.
Jay had been a great husband, a wonderful father, and a tremendous provider. There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t think of him. Often she thought about how she’d have never been scammed if he’d still been alive, something her son, Evan, mentioned too frequently for her to forget.
Didn’t he think that she’d change all of it if she could?
She put on her Gucci sunglasses, attached Beau’s leash that matched his collar, and headed out into the bright morning sun to get some steps in and let Beau do his thing. The community was fairly quiet at this hour.
Some were early risers, but it seemed the general population really got moving about an hour from now. She liked the solitude. She’d spent a lifetime molding herself into whatever vision the client wanted. A lifetime of making other people happy.
This new life was going to be all about her. What she wanted to do, eat, wear, who she spent time with, when she got up, when she went to bed, where she went, how she looked, what she said. All of it was her decision.
Even after Jay passed it hadn’t been that way. Evan had come to stay with her for a while and he’d been…well, he’d meant to be helpful. She understood that. But he’d somehow gotten it into his head that she needed his input making decisions.
After a few weeks of that, she’d told him firmly that she could make decisions for herself. The argument that followed had been more about grief than anything else. Thankfully, they soon made up. But then, just a year later, she’d been scammed.
What a horrible, dark, depressing mess that had been. Still was, although every day, she got a little further from it.
Beau stopped to sniff a patch of grass along the way, his little tail wagging excitedly. She let him sniff. If she was going to live the kind of life she wanted to, why couldn’t he?
Calling Evan to explain what had happened had made losing most of her savings seem like the least of it. She’d been utterly humiliated and embarrassed. Just the memory made her cringe.
Fast footsteps came up behind her. The path was plenty wide, but she stepped to the right all the same, making room.
She turned to see a man jogging toward them. She gave him a nod of greeting, out of politeness, then shifted her attention to Beau.
Beau, however, was very interested in the man. He ran toward the jogger until his leash stopped him, but it was far enough to get under the man’s feet. He tried to sidestep Beau and ended up falling down, rolling into the grass at the last moment.
Blaise gasped. “I’m so sorry. Beau, that was naughty. Are you okay?”
The man sat up and brushed himself off. “I’m fine. Just a little scuffed. Your dog all right? I don’t think I hit him.”
“I think he’d have yelped if you had. I’m sure there was no harm done. Again, I’m really sorry.”
The man grabbed his sunglasses, which had fallen off, and stood. He was younger than her, about a head taller, and had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. The agencies would have loved him.
He put the glasses on his head and stuck his hand out. “Oliver Keen. I’m new to the Colony.”
“Blaise.” She gave his hand a quick shake. “I’m new, too. Have a good day.” He was probably a lovely man, but she wasn’t interested in making any new male friends. None that might think she was interested in anything more than friendship.
Outside of Jay and Evan (and Beau, of course), her history with men wasn’t great.
She’d dealt with enough of them as a model to know most had ulterior motives.
Which was why being scammed by a man stung that much harder.
She should have known better. To say she was slightly gun-shy where the male of the species was involved was an understatement.
“Yeah, you, too.” His gaze lingered on her face a moment longer, then he pulled his sunglasses down, gave her a wave, and jogged on.
Maybe he’d recognized her. It did happen. If he had, she appreciated him not saying anything.
She picked Beau up. “You okay, baby?”
He licked her chin. He was fine. She held onto him as she started walking again. The Colony ought to issue wristbands with colors to indicate a person’s relationship status. Maybe black could be for widows and widowers who just wanted to be left alone.
Probably not the cheeriest thought, but so what. At least the neighbors on the right and left sides of her were women.
She set Beau back down.
By the time she’d done her mile and a half and had reached her home, one of her neighbors, Cece, was rolling her recycling bin to the curb.
A little early, as the truck wouldn’t be coming until this afternoon, but maybe she wasn’t going to be home.
She was dressed like she had errands to run or something. Tan pants, peasant blouse, and sandals.
Cece gave Beau a big smile. “Hello, handsome.”
His little tail wagged, and he went right up to her.
“Morning, Cece,” Blaise said. “Going out today?”
“I am, actually. My daughter’s coming to pick me up. We’re going to Orlando. I’m doing a story on the Mall at Millenia for the Buzz .”
The Buzz was the Colony’s newsletter, but it was the destination that caught Blaise’s attention. The Mall at Millenia had great shopping. Actual designer stores. Not that she could afford them anymore. “That’s quite a drive.”
“Two hours.” Cece shrugged. “But Natalie and I talk the whole time. Makes the trip go by like nothing.”
Blaise just smiled. She and Evan didn’t have that kind of relationship. Maybe it was wishful thinking or maybe it was straight-up jealousy, but a pang of longing went through her. “Have a great time. I can’t wait to read the article.”
“Thanks. I’m doing an interview with our new neighbor, too.”
“New neighbor?”
Cece nodded. “The house in front of yours. Second on the left, I think. New guy, just moved in. Dr. Oliver Keen. He works for the hospital. A cardiologist.” She laughed. “Hopefully, he’ll say something I can understand.”
“I just met him. Beau tripped him, the poor man.” Blaise laughed as well, but she knew Cece was an exceptionally smart woman and wouldn’t have any trouble understanding Dr. Keen. “I’m sure he’ll be very interesting and make for a great interview.”
All that mattered to Blaise was that she didn’t have to talk to him.