Between the Lines (Queen Bees Book Club #4)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Paige Wheeler had long ago noticed that the fitness center at the Colony had a particular smell. Not a bad smell, but a very distinct one.

Clean towels, rubber mats, a slightly lemony disinfectant, and the faint, ever-present hint of some man’s aftershave lingering in the air longer than it should have.

Add in the low whir of treadmills, the clank of free weights, and daytime television murmuring from wall-mounted screens, and it was as close as Paige ever wanted to get to chaos before breakfast.

Even so, the fitness center was one of her happy places. Yes, there was a small measure of chaos, but it was well-controlled and predictable.

Her treadmill hummed beneath her feet, the belt moving at the brisk pace she’d worked up to over the last few years.

It was one more thing she’d built from scratch after her life had been leveled by her ex-husband’s betrayal.

She kept her gaze forward, earbuds in, and let the playlist do its thing to keep her motivated.

Outside the big front windows, palm fronds waved lazily in the morning light, as if the trees had all the time in the world. Well, they did. Nobody asked a palm tree what it planned to do after retirement.

Paige increased the incline by one and felt the burn build in her calves.

The fact that her body still responded when she asked it to was satisfying. It pleased her that she could set a goal and meet it. That her muscles were still capable of doing what needed to be done.

There were a lot of women her age who couldn’t say that.

She glanced at the row of treadmills. Half full. That was normal for a Thursday. The Colony ran on routines like the rest of the world ran on caffeine.

She recognized nearly everyone, which was also normal.

A man with a bright orange sweatband who always walked like he was late to an important appointment, even though he was retired and had nowhere to be.

Two women power-walked side by side on the second-story track that overlooked the main weight and machine room, their arms swinging in aggressive unison, as if that movement alone would tone them up.

Larry Marsden was at the far end of the free-weight section, hoisting dumbbells with an exaggerated intensity that suggested he wanted someone to notice.

He probably did.

Paige kept her eyes forward.

Larry liked to wave. He also liked to flirt. Larry, whom she’d been out with once, liked to imply that Paige’s entire adult life had been a warm-up for the moment she met him.

Larry was wrong. She was involved with Graham now and he was the only man who mattered.

Her phone sat in the treadmill’s cup holder, screen dark, but Paige could feel the invisible tug of it anyway. The irresistible urge to check if somewhere, someone had commented, liked, shared, or saved one of her posts.

But she didn’t like to check it during workouts. If she looked at her TikTok, she’d end up slowing down, getting distracted, and thinking about what kind of content people wanted from her next. Or she’d get bogged down responding to comments.

In fact, she’d switched off her TikTok notifications at the moment to keep herself from getting distracted.

She reminded herself she was in the fitness center to take care of herself. She was here to sweat, burn calories, and build muscle. To stay strong and to maintain good balance. That was the only way to really overcome age and stay healthy.

Still, the comment she’d seen last night wormed its way into her thoughts, unwelcome. Cute little community you have here. Hope it stays that way.

She’d told herself it was nothing. Trolls existed. People enjoyed stirring the pot because it made them feel powerful. The easiest thing in the world was to type something outlandish and then watch the comments go wild. It was standard troll behavior.

And ever since her channel had blown up, the trolls had multiplied. She supposed it was just part of the business.

But she was not going to give that person the satisfaction of taking up space in her head. Any more than they already had.

She raised the speed by a notch, as if forcing herself to pay attention to her stride would cause the thought to go away. A shadow moved in her peripheral vision, someone approaching the treadmill beside hers.

Paige kept her pace steady and eyes forward. People were there to work out, not chat. Most of them, anyway. And Paige had her earbuds in, a sure sign that she wasn’t interested in conversation.

The treadmill next to hers powered on with a cheerful beep and a woman stepped up.

Paige caught the reflection of her in the mirror across the room. Tall, slim, late fifties or early sixties, hair a glossy dark bob that looked professionally maintained. Her workout outfit was coordinated enough that it suggested she didn’t just “throw something on.”

Paige didn’t recognize her, but that didn’t mean anything except that she might be new to the gym or working out at a different time than her usual.

The woman tapped at the treadmill controls, then started walking at an easy pace. She glanced sideways.

Paige kept her gaze straight ahead. In the mirror across the space, she saw the other woman still looking at her and, now, smiling.

“You’re Paige Wheeler.”

It wasn’t a question.

Paige turned her head, giving the woman a polite look.

It wasn’t the first time Paige had been recognized, but she had to wonder if this was because of something someone else had said or because her TikTok channel had recently blown up.

“Yes,” Paige said, taking out one of her earbuds. “And who you are?”

The woman’s smile widened. “Darcy Lane.”

Paige waited. People usually added something after that. Like, I’m on Poinciana. Or, I’m friends with so-and-so. Or, I’m going to water aerobics after this. Something that identified them or gave them context.

Darcy didn’t. She just kept walking, posture upright, hands lightly resting on the rails like there was nothing odd about not explaining yourself.

Paige tucked Darcy’s name away. Lane. Not a name Paige had heard. Not yet. Paige gave a little nod, acknowledging the woman. “Are you a new resident?”

Darcy’s eyes flicked toward Paige’s face with an expression that seemed smug. “You could say that.”

Paige gave a little smile, matching Darcy’s tone, but trying to keep things light. “So is that a yes or a no?”

Darcy laughed softly. “Oh, I like you.”

Paige didn’t respond to that. Compliments from strangers were rarely free. Especially one this snarky.

Darcy lifted a hand, gesturing vaguely around the fitness center. “This place is impressive. I toured a couple of other communities before choosing the Colony. None of them had a setup like this.”

Paige’s gaze stayed on Darcy. “They have great amenities here.”

“They certainly do.” Darcy’s voice turned almost admiring. “This place is a whole lifestyle.”

“It is.” Paige returned her eyes forward, done with this conversation. “We stay busy.” She put her earbud back in.

That didn’t stop her from hearing Darcy’s treadmill make a small whir as she nudged the incline up. “And you help keep everyone busy.”

Paige’s jaw tightened the tiniest amount. What was that supposed to mean? She pulled the earbud out again. “Excuse me?”

Darcy gave her a bright, innocent look. “With your videos. Your little tips. Your tours. The way you show the community. People love that.”

Paige held her expression steady. She’d learned to do that to survive her marriage. And her divorce. She’d learned to do that the first time she realized people in the Colony talked about her like she was some kind of public figure.

“Thank you,” Paige said, because it was the appropriate response. “But it’s not all I talk about on my channel.”

“No, of course not.” Darcy’s assessing gaze swept over Paige again. “I have to say, you make it all look effortless.”

Paige almost laughed.

Nothing was effortless. Not recovering from a huge betrayal.

Not rebuilding your life. Not living in a place where everyone was friendly but also deeply, aggressively curious.

The Colony was essentially a small town filled with residents who had a lot of free time on their hands.

Gossip was a form of currency in this place.

“It’s not easy,” Paige said. “It takes practice.”

Darcy’s smile lost some wattage. “Practice. Yes. That’s one word for it.”

Paige’s hand tightened around her earbud at the subtle shift in Darcy’s tone. Her sentence sounded normal on the surface but it carried something underneath. A second meaning.

Something more between the lines.

Paige didn’t let the thought show in her expression or change her pace. She kept walking like she hadn’t noticed what Darcy had said. Or how she’d said it. But now Paige was curious. She changed the subject. “What brings you to the Colony?”

Darcy shrugged. “A fresh start.”

Paige nodded, but that answer was so common it was practically printed on the welcome packet. “Lots of people come here for that.”

Darcy angled her head. “Everyone here has a story, don’t they? Some come because they’re tired. Some come because they’re lonely. Some come because they want to be safe.”

Paige looked at her. “I don’t know anyone who doesn’t want to be safe.”

Darcy’s eyes held Paige’s. “Some people want it more than others.”

Was this woman simply odd? Was she one of those people who liked to speak in dramatic little riddles because she thought it made her interesting? Or was she specifically digging, trying to get to something?

But Paige didn’t want to lean into paranoia. It was better to rely on facts and information. Also, why was Darcy barely sweating? Why was her breathing so steady?

Paige had lived through enough to know that the most dangerous people were often the calmest. Paige needed to know more.

“Made any friends yet?” Paige asked.

Darcy’s smile returned, bright and easy. “A few.”

“And?” Paige prompted.