Starlight Hill: Complete collection 1-8

by Heatherly Bell

  It was Saturday afternoon and she peeked outside to see if Riley was around and might be able to see her date pick her up. Sure enough, he seemed to be wrenching on his Harley. Good. He’d see Paul walk up and knock on her front door. See her walk out the door with Paul, wearing her tightest jeans and her kick-ass leather boots. Then he’d understand Sophia meant it about this dating thing, and they were both going to have to move on.

  Sophia’s cell phone rang. It was Angie. “What’s up? I’m going out with Paul tonight. Did he tell you?”

  “Yeah, honey, that’s what I’m calling about. He’s not coming.”

  “Why not?”

  “Somehow, and don’t ask me how because I swear to you it wasn’t me, but he found out that you and Riley are still not officially divorced. I told him it was all a big mistake and nothing but a technicality, but his voice got all high and squeaky. I swear about an octave higher than normal. He asked me what he’d ever done to me to deserve my fixing him up with the local police chief’s wife. I tried to explain, but he wouldn’t listen to reason.”

  “I was looking forward to this.” So this is how it would be from now on with anyone in town she might want to date.

  People would slowly realize, one by one, that she was still married. Last week one of the winery’s employees, Fallon, had run into Sophia in the fresh produce section and studied her intently.

  “Isn’t the new chief your ex-husband?”

  “Right,” Sophia answered without meeting Fallon’s gaze. She quickly found a melon to obsess over, knocking it and listening for the sounds of juicy ripeness.

  “Because Claire said you two are still married,” Fallon said.

  “Oh. Huh. That’s weird.” She hadn’t elaborated, nor did she plan to. The state of her marriage was not up for discussion. With anyone. Unfortunately, someone was talking. She’d bet money it was Claire, who worked closely with Riley.

  “I’m sorry,” Angie said now. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep trying. Need any company tonight? I’ll get Raul to fill in for me.”

  For Angie to volunteer time away on a Saturday night in her kitchen and risk what could go wrong meant she had to be concerned about Sophia.

  “It’s okay. I’m taking matters into my own hands.” Sophia hung up.

  One second later Angie texted her: What does that mean?

  Don’t worry. I’m fine. Sophia texted back.

  She’d be all right. Sure, no problem. There was something she had to do first. Something she had to face once and for all. Sophia went to the roll-top desk she kept in a corner of the family room and opened the bottom drawer. She lifted one of Diana’s novels and dug out the dog-eared manila envelope. Her divorce papers. Inside, an old receipt from Trader Joe’s. A shopping list written on a Post-it note: penne pasta, basil, olive oil, Parmesan cheese, pancetta. It was like a time capsule in this envelope, one she hadn’t re-visited since she moved into her house three years ago. She pulled out the papers that read ‘Dissolution of Marriage.’ Sophia Leah Abella Jacobs, petitioner. Riley John Jacobs, respondent. Her hands were already shaking and her breaths were coming too fast, a warning she’d hyperventilate again and need a paper bag if she didn’t get a grip.

  Her hands smoothed over the papers. She repeated some of the calming phrases suggested by the therapist Eileen had dragged her to shortly after leaving Riley.

  I am calm. I take nice and easy breaths. I am at peace. I am a waterfall. I am a tree.

  What a crock. Just because she said the words didn’t make them so. The therapist had said, ‘fake it till you make it.’ Maybe some people were better at faking than Sophia, because she’d never mastered the art. She thumbed to the signature page she’d never signed. It had a stain on it. Not a tear stain, which would be classic. It looked more like a dried up stain of Ben & Jerry’s. Sophia smelled. Oh yeah, Chunky Monkey. She was obviously still a fan.

  Why was she so stuck? She didn’t love Riley anymore, but more than anything these papers told her that she’d failed. Dropped out of school, which so many years later seemed like it could have been a mistake too. Would it have killed her to spend one more semester getting her degree? And then Riley, her biggest mistake. She hadn’t wanted their marriage to be a mistake, too. Signing these papers made it official. She could claim two huge mistakes, both before her twenty-second birthday. In the intervening years, she hadn’t done a whole lot to make things better for herself. Sure, she’d worked the restaurant into a whole new level of success but she spent too much time on social media watching others live instead of living her own life. There were the little moments she didn’t tweet or share with anyone. The nights she’d lie alone at night, unable to sleep, wondering if she’d ever be able to get back to the happiness she’d felt for a little over a year of her life.

  That’s it. Done feeling sorry for herself, Sophia picked up a pen and took a deep breath. She signed the papers and shoved them back into the envelope. There. Progress.

  She went to her kitchen table and powered up her laptop. Cracked her knuckles and typed in the web address for FindYourSweetie.com. There were a lot of dating apps out there, but this one seemed by far to be the safest. They claimed to match compatible couples up with a huge and detailed questionnaire that boasted an eighty-nine percent success rate. So she would do this. It wasn’t like she was too good for online dating. She had the rest of the evening since she’d been stood up.

  There seemed to be an awful lot of questions about physical appearance, a little disturbing since this was the site that claimed to go deep, but Sophia filled them out. She listed her height as five three, then changed it to five five (in heels). Hair color. What was another word for brown with (fake) highlights? Chestnut? Copper? She needed Diana’s help with this. Sophia had to get this right. She had to find her new man on this site, and proceed to make Riley the sorriest man alive.

  Diana’s cell phone rang three times before she picked it up. “Hey.”

  “Are you busy?” Sophia asked as she heard little girl squeals in the background.

  “Scott’s on his forty-eight so it’s just us girls here. What’s up?”

  “I’m signing up for a dating service and I need some help. They’re asking for eye and hair color. What’s a better word for brown?”

  “Too bad your eyes aren’t blue. You could say they’re cerulean. Now there’s a great word.”

  “Yes! Romantic. I need a word like that. Brown like chocolate or like coffee. Oh, that’s good! My hair is the color of coffee. Who doesn’t love coffee?”

  “Why don’t you say your eyes are puce and find out how smart the guy is?”

  “Not funny. That’s one letter away from puke. I don’t want these men to think about puke when they think of me.”

  “No, Chloe. Put your sister down. Now.” Diana sighed. “What are you doing signing up for a dating service? I thought you were going out with Angie’s cousin.”

  “That’s not happening. The guy is a coward. He heard through our lovely town grapevine that I’m still married to Riley, who just happens to be the chief of police. Angie tried to explain but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “And here I thought you hated internet matchmaking.”

  “What can I say? I’m desperate. I need someone to make Riley regret the day he ever chose the Marines over me, and it won’t be easy when he’s not only an ex-Marine and a big guy, but also now the chief of police. He’s going to scare all my suitors off without even trying.”

  “Well, there is a little matter that could take care of all that.”

  “I signed the papers today.”

  “Girls, Mommy has to go potty. Remember the rule about not bothering me in here unless it’s an emergency? I’ll be right back.” There was the sound of a door shutting. It got suddenly quiet other than the whirring sound of a fan in the background. “Tell me everything. What did he say?”

  Sophia stopped filling out the form when they asked about her weight. This was Top Secret information, and she wasn’t all
that sure about this site anymore. Were they asking the men how much they weighed?

  “I haven’t given them to him yet.”

  “So you signed them? That’s all?”

  Sophia didn’t like where this conversation seemed to be headed. Signing those papers had been a huge accomplishment on her part seeing as it had taken her about six years. “Yeah. So?”

  “Honey, I’m proud of you but you do know he has to sign them, too?”

  “Ha, ha. Yes, I do know that. I’m sure he won’t have a problem with it. He’s just too busy to do it himself.”

  Or was that the issue here? Maybe she didn’t want to know that he wouldn’t have a problem with it. That he’d sign them immediately and be forever free of her. Like another slap in the face. No. She didn’t care about that. Why would she care about that?

  “Tell me the minute you hand them over and make sure to mentally record each word so you can tell me every detail later.”

  “Why? So you can use it in one of your books? I don’t think so.”

  “No book. I think I’m done. Finished. I’ve been fooling myself and everyone else that I can write.”

  Oh, boy. Here it comes.

  “It turns out this book is nothing but crap. I don’t know what my editor was thinking. And why did I think I could write?”

  “Maybe because you’ve written three books?”

  “I think I got lucky. This is it. It’s all downhill from here. Over. Fini.”

  Sophia snorted. “So you’re about halfway done with it?”

  “How did you know?”

  “C’mon Diana, you do this every time! Every. Single. Time.”

  After a few more encouraging words to her sister-in-law, Sophia hung up and went back to her form. But she’d been inactive too long and had to log back in. Then the stupid password didn’t work so she had to be emailed a new one. Gah! Hershee yipped and carried her bowl to Sophia. Dinnertime.

  “Dating sucks,” she told Hershee as she filled her bowl with the organic blend. “In case you were wondering.”

  The problem was she’d never been much into the whole dating scene. She’d had two boyfriends before she’d met Riley and none after him. No one real, anyway. Pathetic. She peeked through her blinds again to see if Riley was still outside and caught him looking straight at her. He grinned and cocked his head. She barely resisted giving him her tallest finger. He sat on his Harley, long legs spread out, apparently done tinkering on it.

  You know what? This might be a good time. What else was she doing, other than feeling sorry for herself and filling out a ridiculous dating questionnaire? She picked up the manila envelope and, telling Hershee to stay, marched out the front door, and crossed their shared lawn.

  You can do this, you can do this, you can do this. Don’t look directly in his eyes. Kind of like the sun.

  The late afternoon had turned chilly and a light breeze stirred her hair. She heard Hershee yapping inside the house, and Hotshot, the little Chihuahua next door, responding. Across the street, Mr. Anderson was just now taking down his Christmas lights. Better late than never. Riley still sat on his motorcycle but now he’d turned it on and it made an incredible racket such that she had to wave with the envelope to get his attention.

  He shut off the engine, his eyes on the envelope. “What’s that, more research on addiction?”

  Her heart rate kicked up and her legs trembled. She was really going to do this and change her life. It wouldn’t change who she was inside, her mother’s daughter. She still believed in love, romance, and Italian food. But sometimes certain details had to be worked out so that a person could move on.

  “No. It’s-it’s that other paper work we talked about. Before.” Her voice shook a little bit, because there was a chill in the air and she’d stepped out without a jacket. That was the only reason.

  His eyes narrowed. “What paper work?”

  Was it a sign that she still couldn’t say the word ‘divorce’? Why couldn’t she say it, for the love of Pete? “You know what paper work.”

  He climbed off the Harley and pulled the papers out. Looked at them once, then back at her, his brown eyes dark and shuttered. This was supposed to feel good. Revenge. She beat him to the punch. Why didn’t it feel good to see the obvious hurt in his eyes?

  “You want a divorce.”

  She flinched. “Don’t you think it’s about time?”

  He glanced back to the envelope she’d received from the law firm of Hart and Hart. Ironic, yes, she realized. “When did you have the lawyer draw this up?”

  Sophia sighed, surprised she was still standing on her own two legs. One would think something that shook so badly couldn’t be relied on to keep anything vertical. “Does it matter?”

  “This postmark is a few years old.”

  “So what?”

  “Why did you wait until now to give them to me?”

  Another breeze kicked up and she shivered. “Look, I’m not going to discuss this with you anymore. You have your paper work.”

  She almost ran back to her house, but Riley followed her across the lawn. “We need to talk about this.”

  “No we don’t.” She opened the door but he followed her inside.

  Hershee barked and snarled at Riley. “It’s okay, puppy. Don’t remember me?”

  “Oh, she remembers you. And don’t call her a puppy. That insults her. She’s a full grown French bulldog.”

  “What’s her name again?” Riley squatted down and offered his hand. Hershee inched closer, sniffing. Inspecting.

  “Hershee.”

  “Sorry, girl. You deserve better than being named after a chocolate bar.”

  Sophia snorted. “It’s not after chocolate. It’s a play on pronouns. You know, ‘she’ and ‘her’. Her-she. Diana’s idea.”

  “Funny.”

  “Why are you here?”

  Riley straightened to his full height. “You don’t really want this divorce.”

  “Ha! What do you know about it?”

  “I know quite a bit. I know I’m the best man for you, for starters.”

  Sophia blinked. Her face felt hot and flushed and she might just explode right now on impact. Say what you wanted to about Riley Jacobs, but he did not lack self-confidence.

  “You. You are the best man for me,” she repeated incredulously.

  He grinned. “Glad you agree.”

  “I did not say that!”

  “Yes, you did.” He laughed and set the papers down on the counter.

  “Okay.” She pointed her index finger at him. “Maybe I did, but you know I didn’t mean it. Stop twisting my words around.”

  “We’ve already kissed twice.”

  “I hardly remember. It was incredibly unmemorable.”

  “Really.”

  “Yep.”

  He took a step closer. “Give me another try. See how forgettable I am tonight.”

  “W-what? I don’t think so.”

  “Scared?”

  “You don’t scare me.” She folded her arms across her chest and pushed out her boobs so he could get a good long look at what he was never going to have again.

  “You sound pretty sure of yourself. With that kind of confidence, I don’t know what you’re so afraid of.”

  “Nothing.” Except for maybe the determined look shining in Riley’s eyes, similar to the first night they’d met. He’d come after her then, too.

  Riley stepped close enough to tip her chin up. “There is one thing. You’re afraid you still have feelings for me.”

  “I hate you. That’s what I feel.”

  His finger skimmed the length of her arm and he squeezed her hand. “You don’t hate anyone.”

  “Except for you.” She pulled her hand out of his and took a step back.

  “Why did you kiss me then?”

  “You kissed me first.”

  “And I told you why. I wanted to. Why did you kiss me?” He stepped uncomfortably close again.

  The couch was righ
t behind her and she was running out of room. “Same reason, I guess.”

  He was staring at her lips and while she tried hard not to even notice that he had a mouth, a shiver of recognition ran down her spine.

  Riley reached out to tuck a few hairs behind her ear. “We had something special.”

  “Maybe. Past tense,” she said, and became fixated on his eyes.

  They had softened the way they always had for her. She’d seen Riley stare down men. Drunk men in a bar getting a little mouthy and a lot gropey. Nikki. He’d had the same hard gaze in his eyes when he’d first met her friend long ago. He had a hard look in his eyes when he wanted it there. Flinty. Dark. Brooding. But his eyes were always tender and liquid when they looked at her. They’d always made her feel adored. Safe.

  “No doubt about it.” He didn’t kiss her, but simply traced her lips softly. “We’re not done.”

  She watched him walk out her front door, leaving the papers on the counter. They were back with her, like a boomerang.

  She ran to follow him out the door. “Riley?”

  He turned back to face her. “Yeah.”

  “The kiss wasn’t unmemorable.”

  He nodded and walked back to his house.

  Later that night, Sophia curled up in bed with Hershee at her feet, keeping them warm. It shouldn’t be this hard. She was supposed to hand over the papers and he was supposed to sign them and give them back to her. He wasn’t supposed to care. She’d moved on. Sort of. He’d moved on. The lack of communication or caring over the years spoke louder than anything he said now. He couldn’t show up and expect her to forgive him, let him back in, forgive and forget. Start over like she was still twenty-one years old and a bride for the first time with stupid and silly dreams and faith in all of humanity.

  He’d called her out on being afraid that she still had feelings for him, and she hated that he’d been right. She didn’t want to still love him when there were so many reasons not to. He was still a man who couldn’t resist choosing a dangerous profession. Sure, he was chief of a small town but he still rode patrol and knowing him the way she did, she realized he’d never shy away from a conflict. Perfect for law enforcement, and a terrible husband for her. She needed someone like a postal worker or an engineer. A teacher. Someone safe. Definitely not Riley Jacobs.