Chapter 3
ANNALISE
I never pictured myself living in a small town. Growing up in Vancouver, British Columbia, I’m used to city living. The traffic jams during rush hour and busy streets with street performers on every corner.
Cherry Peak is the opposite of Vancouver. Not only is it in an entirely different province, but it’s a town small enough to have only one family-run grocery store, a library that splits a building with the town hall, and one school that houses all grades, kindergarten to twelve.
My life in Cherry Peak, Alberta, is a far shot from how it was back home, and that’s exactly what I need right now.
The November breeze runs through my hair as I walk down Main Street, taking in the smells from the singular coffee shop and the farmers’ market on the corner.
Flowers, coffee, and fresh air. The number of looming trees that surround the town was overwhelming at first glance, but I’ve grown a bit more used to them now.
If you know where to look, you can spot the Rocky Mountains peeking through the shorter, white-tipped trees.
I still haven’t gotten used to the beauty of the snow-peaked mountains.
They’re a punch to the gut every morning. A good punch.
I’ve been a resident of this blink-and-you’ll-pass-it town for two weeks now, but this is the first time I’ve had the confidence to walk this street.
Before today, I found more than a few excuses to keep myself locked away in my new rental home, only slinking into the real world to work at the hair salon that took me in like a lost puppy the day I came begging for a job.
Unpacking, cleaning, internet stalking my ex—I’ve come up with just about every reason not to have to converse with the people living here more than necessary. But I can’t be a hermit forever.
I can’t hide from real life, even if the thought of starting a new one here makes my chest ache and my head throb.
Like every time I walk around this town, heads turn, and curious eyes watch me. When I’m working, it’s easier to ignore the attention. I can concentrate on my job and not the questions they’re dying to ask me. Where did I come from? Why did I move here? How long am I staying?
Only a handful of clients have asked me those questions, and it’s easy to distract them when I have scissors in my hands and their hair poised between the blades. Now, though? I fear it may not be so easy.
I keep my head high and my mouth set in a soft, natural smile.
There was a reason for today’s venture other than making my presence known to every single person in this town.
My destination is the bridal boutique that has undoubtedly seen better days.
I’ve driven past it a handful of times in the past few days, and while it looks like it’s inside of a shoebox-size space, it will have to do.
Today is the first day I’ve had the nerve to even contemplate stepping foot inside of it. Sweat beads on the back of my neck at the mention of being surrounded with white tulle and fake bouquets again.
While Braxton was selling my wedding dress at a consignment shop in Vancouver before I moved out here, I was busy trying to forget the man responsible for that dress and my shattered heart.
I want nothing to do with anything related to a wedding, but for my sister, I’d do just about anything, even torture myself with the reminder of everything I’ve lost. That’s my reasoning behind agreeing when she all but begged me to still come with her to Maddox’s teammate’s wedding in two months.
I couldn’t go back on my agreement from months ago.
Not after everything she did for me post-Stewart.
Just the fact that I can even think his name now without sobbing is half due to her help during the start of my grieving process.
The street ahead of me fills with voices, some soft and some hard.
Shoes crunching over snow-covered pavement and jingling bells from above shop doors have my pace slowing.
Every person in town has to be at the farmers’ market.
It’s most likely the last one of the season, with the snow starting to fall heavier and heavier each day.
I should have known today would be a terrible day to come . . .
“A new face!”
I freeze, knees locking at the loud voice.
“Don’t be so aggressive, Bryce.”
“I’m not being aggressive! I’m being welcoming.”
“If you’re so welcoming, then why does she look like she’s going to hack all over the street?”
I blink, taking in the two women moving toward me. The shorter of the two, Bryce, from what I’ve gathered, is intimidating as all hell, even from the healthy distance between us. With night-black hair and sharp blue eyes, she reminds me of Braxton. A much scarier version of her.
She’s incredibly fit. Muscles flex beneath her long sleeves, even as she stands still, observing me.
Her black vest is snug over her chest, and the puff on the top of her toque bobs with every step she takes.
Two rows of gleaming white teeth flash as she grins at me, and suddenly, she’s the opposite of intimidating.
The woman beside Bryce appears far more harmless, even without smiling, with soft brown eyes and hair to match.
Her skin is warmer than Bryce’s, like she’s used to spending long hours in the sun despite the cold, while Bryce maybe tends to do the opposite.
She’s built similar to me, with thighs filling the tight material of her jeans, hips that flare wide, and a generous chest that, from experience, is why we have to go up a size in tops despite our slimmer waists.
“Sorry, I have a habit of being a bit too loud sometimes,” Bryce apologizes, wincing slightly.
I return her smile and extend my hand. She takes it easily. “Don’t be sorry. It’s nice to have someone else make the first move. I’m Annalise. Anna for short.”
“You’re the new hairdresser,” the second woman notes, piecing something together in her mind. Recognition sparks in her eyes, and she ignores my outstretched hand. “I’m Poppy! I own Beautifully Bold. We’re neighbours.”
In a surprising move, she swats down my hand and wraps me in a tight hug. I stand frozen for a beat before awkwardly wrapping my arms around her and then pulling back. She doesn’t seem to care about my awkwardness.
Bryce picks up on it, though, offering me another apologetic grimace. “And you were giving me a hard time for being aggressive.”
I laugh at that. “Beautifully Bold . . . that’s the pole studio, right?”
“That’s the one, but don’t get her started on it. She’ll end up forcing you into coming for a lesson,” Bryce says.
Poppy rolls her eyes and shoves her friend’s shoulder. “I don’t force anyone. It’s more just gentle marketing, I promise.”
“I’m all ears. Give me your best-selling speech.” I nod in encouragement when she hesitates.
I’ve never done pole before. I’m not much for exercise, if I’m completely honest. Walking up and down the basement stairs to do my laundry is enough to have me huffing and puffing, but I can’t say that I’m completely against the idea of pole.
I’ve seen the women who do pole work, and they’re incredibly strong.
Poppy tucks some loose hairs from her bun out of her face as the wind picks up but straightens and smiles brightly.
“Beautifully Bold is a space for those who may not feel comfortable to go to a public gym but still want to get a bit of activity into their day in a different, fun way. It’s mostly women who join the classes, but it’s open to anyone interested.
We have classes every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday at four thirty for an hour, and they’re usually full of both those who have never tried before and those who have been doing it for years.
Really, it’s just a safe place for people to have fun while working out in a safe environment. ”
“Don’t forget your selling point, Poppy,” Bryce reminds her.
I roll my lips to fight a laugh while Poppy huffs. “I was getting there, Bryce.” Focusing solely on me, she adds, “The side window faces the front of the fire department. The yard, specifically. Where the volunteers work out in the summer. The view is always a great motivator.”
“I have to peel her tongue from the window more often than not,” Bryce teases.
Poppy glares at her. “You’re not much better.”
“Never said I was,” Bryce sings.
My eyes bounce between the two of them, a bite of jealousy growing in my gut. It’s not like I’ve never had a friendship like this . . . well, I guess I haven’t, really. Unless you count my sister. Which, really, is just sad if I do.
I’ve never not wanted a close friendship with other women before.
I have and do work with more than several women, but I can be a lot, and I try to hold back so as to not overwhelm other people.
A few years ago, I wouldn’t have cared how extra I was, but something I’ve realized over the past month is that all of those subtle digs Stewart made about my loud laugh and tendency to speak without being spoken to first did indeed dig into my subconscious.
I hate that I allowed myself to take his hateful words and find truth in them. Let them poison my opinion of myself.
Watching Bryce and Poppy be so open and free with one another in such an obviously close friendship makes me undeniably jealous. I want that. Badly.
“I think I’d like to come to one of the classes,” I blurt out.
Both women pause, gazes shooting to me. Poppy is the first to break free of her surprise and clap excitedly.
Bryce’s eyes tighten as she takes me in, almost as if she’s searching for the thoughts I was just thinking.
The softening of her stare a beat later makes me swallow, hating that I wear my emotions so obviously for everyone to see.
“That would be amazing!” Poppy cheers.
My cheeks warm as her excitement snags the attention of a few of the people walking by. The jealousy ebbs away, replaced with a blooming sensation of excitement.
“I doubt I’ll do well, but I’m down to give it a chance.”
“It took me three weeks to get the grasp of a simple back bend, so I wouldn’t worry about your skill. You’d be surprised how long it can take to nail a move,” Bryce says.
My smile is a silent thank you. She tips her chin in reply.
Poppy takes a step toward me while slipping her hand into the pocket on the thigh of her leggings. “Why don’t we exchange numbers, and I’ll send you all of the sign-up info? You can let me know what day you want to come, and we can go from there. Are you living in town?”
I shrug my purse from my shoulder and pull my phone free, exchanging it for hers. “I’m by the school. It’s just a rental for now, but I figured in town would have been better. This province is still new to me.”
“You’re not from Alberta?” Bryce asks.
Once I finish adding my number to Poppy’s phone, I hand it back and take Bryce’s. Poppy hands my phone to her friend a beat later.
“I’m from BC. Vancouver, specifically.”
“And you moved from there to here ? Why ?” Poppy scrunches her nose, darting her eyes to the snow piles lining the street.
“Would you believe me if I said I preferred the prairies?”
Bryce snorts a laugh. “Not at all.”
“There’s a story behind this move, isn’t there?” Poppy asks.
With a tired smile, I swap phones with Bryce. “One for another day.”
I’m grateful when they both accept that and let it go. I don’t want to ruin a good meeting with the mention of Stewart. He took too many things from me to allow him to take this too.
“Well, just shoot me a text whenever you want, okay? We can figure out your pole class and maybe a drink out or something?” Hope glimmers in Poppy’s eyes, and it makes my smile grow.
“I’d like that.”
The two friends say goodbye a moment later, and I watch them disappear into the crowd before continuing toward the bridal shop. A spark of excitement has my steps moving a half beat quicker than before.