Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
The sweetly savory scent of coffee hit her the moment she pulled open the door of the small coffee shop. There were only a dozen or so tables sprinkled throughout the small space, and she immediately recognized Sierra from her photo online.
Sierra sat at a table to her right, a binder on the table in front of her next to a ceramic cup full of frothy brown liquid.
As if feeling Everleigh's gaze on her, her face lifted, and a bright smile lit her face.
She stood as Everleigh moved toward her, then extended her hand. “You must be Everleigh.”
“I am.”
“I'm Sierra.” She grinned. “Nice to meet you.”
Everleigh slipped her palm into Sierra's and shook once before looping the strap of her purse over the back of the chair and sliding into the seat. Sierra gestured to the cup of cappuccino in front of her. “Would you like something to drink? My treat.”
“You don't have to do that,” Everleigh replied.
Sierra waved off her concern. “Really, I want to.”
Everleigh quickly scanned the board. It was too hot for anything warm to drink. “I’ll take an Iced Caramel Macchiato, please.”
“Absolutely.”
Sierra made her way over to the counter to order, and Everleigh took a moment to catalog her surroundings. She knew Mason was there somewhere, more than likely outside in one of the parking lots where he had a view of both her car parked along the curb and the front entrance of the coffee shop.
She studied her car parked near the corner of the building.
In retrospect, she probably should have parked somewhere more obscure, somewhere she didn't have a direct line of sight.
If the photographer knew she wasn't able to see him come and go, he might be more likely to get caught in the act of leaving the photograph.
She still couldn't begin to imagine who was taking the photos or why.
Over the past few weeks, she had barely even left the house, let alone opened herself up to confrontation with anyone.
When she left after graduation thirteen years ago, she had never looked back.
She hadn't stayed in contact with any neighbors or friends from school.
Not that she had many in the first place.
Given a choice, she had always preferred to spend time with Knox and Vivi instead of the pretentious young women from her prep school.
Sierra slid Everleigh's coffee in front of her before returning to her cappuccino. Everleigh turned her focus to Sierra and returned her smile. “How long have you lived here?”
“My entire life. I went to St. Mary's, but I was a few years behind you in school.”
Everleigh's eyes widened. “Oh, my gosh. I'm so sorry I didn't recognize you.”
“It's okay.” Sierra leaned back in the chair and settled her hands in her lap. “Like I said, you were several years ahead of me. High school feels like it was ages ago. When you reached out to me, I thought your name sounded familiar, so I did a little digging.”
That made sense to Everleigh. “How have you been?”
Sierra lifted one shoulder. “You know how it is in small towns. Some things never change.”
“That can be both good and bad,” Everleigh commented.
Sierra tipped her head in agreement. “That is true. What about you? I heard you moved to New York. What was that like?”
“It was a culture shock,” Everleigh replied honestly. It seemed so exciting at first, but so many of her memories were tainted by regret. When she moved away, all she could focus on was putting distance between herself and the girl of her past.
“I can only imagine.” A sympathetic expression moved across Sierra’s face. “So what brought you back here?”
“I was tired of the city. Life up north wasn't at all what I expected, and I needed to just come back home and regroup.
People say the city never sleeps, and they're right.
Whether it was one o'clock in the afternoon or one o'clock in the morning, things never slowed down. I missed the simplicity of the country.”
“I can see how that would be overwhelming,” Sierra said. “Are you enjoying it so far?”
Everleigh would be if she wasn't receiving strange photographs. “It's good… But it’s also been a huge adjustment,” she said slowly. “I think everything will fall into place.”
“It will,” Sierra agreed. “Where are you living at the moment?”
“With my parents.” Everleigh refrained from making a little face, but Sierra's shrewd expression told her she had heard the hesitation in her tone.
“It'll be nice to have a space of your own with some privacy.”
Everleigh nodded. “Not to say I don't enjoy spending time with them, it's just…”
“Believe me, I understand,” Sierra said as she leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “I still live at home, and it can be exhausting.”
“Very,” Everleigh agreed. For the last thirteen years she had come and gone as she pleased in a city full of millions of people. She had been home for less than a month, and her mother fretted every time she left the house.
“Maybe we can find you a place close by so you can visit often.”
“Not too close,” Everleigh replied, earning a little laugh from Sierra.
Sierra pulled out a notebook from the binder in front of her, then flipped to a fresh page. “Tell me what you're looking for.”
Over the past couple of days, Everleigh had thought a lot about what Mason had told her. “I'm open to both apartments and single-family homes,” she said. “If it's an apartment, I'd prefer to be in the middle to upper level.”
She knew a home was a smarter investment, but for some reason, she had a difficult time envisioning it.
A home should be full of love and laughter, a husband and kids.
She didn't have any of those things. “As far as the house…” she trailed off.
“I would just like it to have at least an acre for some privacy.”
She gave Sierra some price points and other factors to consider, and Sierra closed the book with a snap and stowed it away. “Sounds good. This at least gives me something to start with. I'll see what's available and give you a call soon.”
Everleigh grinned. “Fantastic. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. I—” Sierra was cut off by the ringing of her phone. Her face twisted into an apologetic grimace as she pulled it from her purse. “I’m so sorry.”
“No worries.” Everleigh waved away her concern. “Go ahead and take that. I’ll finish up then head out.”
“Thank you so much. It was good to see you.” Sierra threw a little wave Everleigh's way as she scooted out the door to take the call.
Everleigh studied the patrons of the coffee shop as she sipped the rest of her macchiato.
A few people threw curious glances her way, more than likely finding her face familiar but not able to place it.
She returned their inquisitive looks with a smile, then pushed her empty cup away and stood. She reached for her purse—and froze.
Shock rooted her to the floor as she stared at a white corner sticking up from the inside of her bag.
With shaking fingers, she grasped the corner and pulled it up just enough to see the picture.
Her stomach rolled as her image stared back at her, this time from beside her car.
She tucked it back in and threw a furtive look around the coffee shop. Who could have left this? And when?
She swallowed hard, replaying the last forty-five minutes in her head.
Several dozen people had come and gone, but she couldn’t pinpoint any one person in particular who’d paid her any undue attention.
Everyone had to pass her chair to reach the counter, so that didn’t help to narrow it down at all.
Biting her lip, she dug out her phone and keys and hurried out of the shop, all the while keeping an eye on her surroundings.
As soon as she was safely in the car, she locked it and opened the screen on her phone. Her call to Mason connected almost immediately.
“Ms. Beaumont?”
“H-hi.” Her voice and hands shook in equal measure, and she forced herself to take a calming breath. “I got another picture. In the coffee shop.”
Mason let out a soft curse on the other end. “I wondered when I didn’t see the prick outside. How’d he deliver it this time?”
“It was right in my purse. He must have walked behind me and slipped it inside.”
There was a brief pause and what sounded like a low growl. “This is actually a good thing. The more he makes himself known, the easier it’ll be to catch him.”
It made sense, not that it made her feel a whole lot better at the moment. It was unsettling, to say the least. Whoever it was, he’d managed to walk right up to her without her knowing. A shudder worked its way down her spine, and the phone shook in her hand.
“Don’t worry,” Mason said, seemingly reading her mind. “I’ve been watching everyone coming in and out, so I’ll narrow it down.”
“Thanks.”
The word was little more than a whisper, but it was all she could manage at the moment. It didn’t seem to bother him, though. “Are you headed home?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Do you want me to follow you?”
She shook her head. “No, don’t worry about it.”
“If you’re sure,” he said cautiously. “I was going to watch the shop for a bit, but…”
“No, really.” She waved off his concern. “I’ll be fine. You do whatever you need to.”
The quicker they found this person, the better. All she wanted was to find whoever was taking these photos of her and make it stop.
“Okay. Text me when you get there and let me know if you’ll be going anywhere else.”
“Will do.”
With that, she tossed her phone in her purse and cranked the engine, then pulled onto the main drag. She had just turned onto the road leading to her parents’ subdivision when her phone rang. Part of her hoped it was Mason calling back with good news, but logically she knew it was too soon.
She rooted through her purse, following the vibrations, and swiped to answer when she saw Fletcher’s name on the screen. “Hello?”
“Hey, Evie.” Fletcher’s smooth voice filtered from the other end, its familiarity calming her overwrought nerves. “How are you?”
“I'm good.” She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “Did you get my message?”
“That's actually why I’m calling you,” he replied. “Oscar asked me to come to the London branch with him for a couple of weeks.”
“That's great.” She smiled. “Hope you’re having fun.”
“Not really.” He laughed. “It’s been mostly sixteen-hour days, but if all goes well, I may end up working over here permanently.”
She knew it was something he’d always wanted, and she was genuinely happy for him. “Well, good luck. I hope it works out.”
“Thanks. Me, too. Anyway,” he continued, “if you could hang on to that letter for a couple weeks until I get home, I would appreciate it. Otherwise, it's all just going to build up in the mailbox.”
“No problem at all,” she said. “Just let me know when you're back in town and I'll send it to you.”
“Sounds good.” There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. “It's been a while since we've talked. How are you doing?”
She pulled into her parents’ driveway and parked, considering his question. “I’m… okay.”
“What's wrong?”
Concern laced his tone, and she sighed, debating how much to tell him. Finally, she decided to go with a partial truth. “It's been both good and bad. It's nice to be back home, but it's overwhelming at the same time.”
“I’m sure,” he said.
There was a rustling sound in the background, followed by the low hum of voices and what sounded like the clink of drinkware. “Sorry about that,” Fletcher said. “We have a dinner meeting, and I just got to the restaurant.”
“You're fine,” she assured him. “You’re busy, and I don't want to hold you up. Just give me a call whenever you get back.”
“I'll do that. It was good to hear from you.”
“You too.” She ended the call and sat there staring out the windshield for a moment, phone still clutched in her hand as a wave of nostalgia rolled over her.
Fletcher had been her friend for years—her best friend, really.
He’d been by her side for the better part of ten years, and a huge part of her missed him.
She still loved him; she just wasn’t in love with him.
He deserved someone so much better than her.
Immediately following that train of thought came the guilt.
Because, despite the fact that they’d been married, she wasn’t sure she’d ever been in love with him.
Fletcher was the easy choice, the steadfast, rock-solid presence she knew she could depend on.
But he couldn’t hold a candle to Knox. She’d loved him as a child, and those feelings were so deeply embedded in her soul she knew she’d never feel that way about another man.