by Jo McNally
She was still smiling when she signed the bill to be charged to her room, adding a large, but not outrageous, tip. It was a force of habit after all these years—always be seen as generous, but not so much so that it will raise attention or suspicion. She was getting tired of always being so calculated. But Ellie’s school bills were high, and her insulin was an added burden Brittany had vowed to handle. She asked the server if she could take the drink out to the darkening veranda outside the wall of windows, and the woman smiled and said, “Of course.”
The sun was behind the mountains now, but the sky still glowed in bright shades of melon and pink. It was warm and humid, and the low hum in the air told her that bloodsucking insects would probably be chasing her inside before too long. She leaned her arms on the stone railing and sipped from her drink, slowly rotating the glass to get all the sugarcoated chocolate off the rim. This was one last moment of indulgence before getting into working mode tomorrow morning, and she was going to make the most of it.
“Of all the gin joints in the world...” A familiar low voice paraphrased Bogart behind her. “You had to walk onto this veranda.”
Nate Thomas. Who owned a piece of property she needed. She put on her I-love-Gallant-Lake sunny smile before turning to face him. But for some reason she had a hard time sticking to the script with this guy. There was something about his perpetually amused expression that got under her skin, just as it had earlier. Maybe because he seemed so terribly amused by her.
He was still wearing the same faded plaid shirt and well-worn jeans he’d had on that morning, which should have seemed out of place at an elegant resort like this. But somehow, the man wore them like a second skin, making him look like he was very sure he belonged.
“Fancy meeting you here.” She made a point to look at his attire. “Are you here to cobble more shoes? Or maybe mow the lawn?”
He chuckled, rubbing his dark stubble with one hand. His other held a bottle of domestic beer. “I don’t know where you’re from, Miss Doyle, but around here, this attire is universally accepted.” He gestured toward her. “You, on the other hand, look painfully overdressed.”
“There’s nothing painful about it, Mr. Thomas.” She straightened her shoulders and tried to find that charming smile again. Somehow, she suspected it looked more like a grimace. “I’m quite comfortable. What brings you to the resort this evening?” She took another sip of her blue martini, hoping it wasn’t leaving her with blue lips and tongue. She was going for cool and classy here, not tipsy teenager.
“Drinks with friends. You’re staying here?”
“For a few days. I have a vacation rental house lined up, but it won’t be ready until Sunday.” The online vacation site had described it as an “adorable one-bedroom cottage on the water with lots of vintage charm.” Brittany didn’t care about vintage anything, but the photos made it look clean and it wasn’t far from the center of town. It had Wi-Fi. And privacy. From the website map, it was located farther out on a peninsula than the other adorable cottages the owner was renting. She could have phone calls with Conrad and talk to property owners about selling without nosy neighbors around.
“How long are you staying in town?”
A small red flag went up. “You’re asking a lot of questions for a cobbler.”
He laughed, and his tanned face creased into a road map of deep lines, especially around his dark eyes. This was a man who spent a lot of time outdoors. He took a drink of his beer before replying.
“I’m going to hazard a guess that you don’t spend a lot of time in small towns. Small-town people are just naturally...curious.”
“You mean nosy?”
He lifted one shoulder. “I prefer curious. Or maybe just call it friendly.”
It was true that the only time she’d intentionally spent in any town outside Tampa was for business. To turn them into not-small-towns after Conrad built whatever he was going to build there—resorts, condos, housing developments. She needed to remember that she wanted Nate’s building, which meant she shouldn’t antagonize him.
“Point taken.” She tipped her head, refusing to apologize out loud. Apologizing was never good for negotiating, and sooner or later she’d be negotiating with this guy. “I’m a city girl through and through.” He raised a brow in an unspoken question, and she answered. “Tampa. And to answer your other question, I’ll be staying here for a month or so. I’ve been thinking about relocating to the Northeast, so I guess you could say I’m town-shopping. Checking out a few areas before I decide.” It was the story she used most often when doing advance acquisitions. People loved to tell her everything about their town, good and bad, when they thought she wanted to be one of them.
“That’s a big move, from Tampa to here.” He looked out at the lake, turning silver as the sunset faded into night. “I know a couple guys who’ve done the downsizing thing to Gallant Lake, though. One from LA and one from Boston. They made it work, but they stayed here for love, so they were motivated.”
What would that be like, moving for real to a place like Gallant Lake? For that matter, what would doing anything “for love” be like? She lifted her glass to her lips, shoving that thought aside as she drained the last of the blue concoction.
“Ah, I see you’ve met the latest Gallant Lake-in-a-glass cocktail.” Nate’s mouth slid into a slanted smile. “They hired a new bartender last year, and she does a new martini for every season.”
Brittany picked up the skewer and slid the candy fish into her mouth. The sugary candy soaked by the tart alcohol was surprisingly good.
“I give her an A for originality and execution.” She slid the little boat down the skewer with her teeth and ate it, flashing Nate a bright smile. “And that signals the end of my first full day in Gallant Lake, with Nate Thomas at both ends of it. Thanks for fixing my shoe, by the way. Maybe I’ll stop by again sometime.” She brushed past him, feeling off her game again. Nate had a knack for making her very aware that she was forcing her smiles and small talk, and it irritated her. She really did need to get some sleep so she could regain her focus. “Good night.”
Chapter Three
Nate watched Brittany walk across the veranda, now lit up softly with overhead strings of tiny fairy lights. When he’d seen her out here on his way back to join his friends at the bar, he figured it was a good time to ask a few questions. The resort certainly attracted its share of low-to-mid-level celebrities and wealthy clients, but those people generally stayed right here on the property. If they did wander into town, it was only to shop at the Five and Design boutique, owned by his friend’s wife, Melanie. That made sense, since Mel had once been among the golden people herself as a former supermodel. Sometimes they went to the coffee shop owned by Nora Peyton, wife of another friend of Nate’s. And once in a great while the upper-crust tourists would wander into his hardware store to exclaim how quaint it was.
They were far more likely to buy one of the antique metal signs he had hanging from the rafters than to buy actual hardware. One guy bought a whole collection of train memorabilia last month. Nate had bought a box sight unseen at an auction and found it was full of L&O toys and gadgets. He’d made a nice penny on that sale.
So it wasn’t completely unheard of that this uptight woman draped in gold jewelry and designer clothes had come into his store, even if just to escape the downpour. But there was something...off...about Brittany Doyle. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but she didn’t act like a tourist. He didn’t buy her story about looking for a place to live, either. Gallant Lake wasn’t on any fancy list of America’s Best Places to Live. It had never fully recovered from a drop in resort business back in the ’70s and ’80s, his family’s business included. The new owners of the resort, Blake and Amanda Randall, had been working hard to put the place back on the map, but the idea that a beautiful single woman with lots of cash and expensive taste would choose to live here... Nope. Didn’t make
sense to him.
He’d intended to ask more questions, even though she’d called him out on it. But when she put her coral-colored lips around that candy boat on the skewer and slid it down and into her mouth... Well, his questions went straight out of his head. Along with his voice. He’d just stood there as she ate that damn boat, said good-night and left. Without him saying a word.
“There you are!” Asher Peyton came outside, followed by Nick West. “We thought you got lost.” He looked toward the French doors Brittany had just escaped through. “Then we saw you talking to a pretty lady out here. Who was she?”
“A guest here. She came into the store this morning with a broken heel.”
Asher’s forehead rose. “So she went to the hardware store for what...nails? I mean, you have every size nail known to construction, but...”
Asher was the reason Nate stocked half those nails. His custom furniture shop was right across the street from the hardware store, and Asher was always running over for some odd size or configuration.
“She was just running from the rain this morning. I glued her shoe together, Hank yelled at her and that was that.” Except he hadn’t stopped thinking about her all day.
“Until tonight. Was she thanking you for saving her, Nate?” Nick teased. “Are you her Prince Charming now?”
Brittany thought Nate asked a lot of questions, but he was no match for former cop Nick West. Now the director of security for all the Randall resorts, Nick was incessantly...curious.
“Give me a break. Did you see the woman? Do you think that kind of woman would consider me any kind of prince at all?” Nate gestured down to his clothes. He wasn’t one to care about stuff like fashion, but he’d felt an odd little pinch when she turned her nose up at him earlier. “I saw her out here and said hi. As you saw, she left me standing here. That’s it. Now, come on...” He put one arm around Nick’s shoulders and the other around Asher and started marching them back inside. “If we leave Brannigan in there by himself for too long, he’ll be boring the bartender with sports trivia again.”
Three days later he was still thinking about Brittany. In fact, he’d thought about her all three nights, too. He kept seeing her in her tailored clothes and fancy shoes, hair pulled back. She struck him as someone very much in control. Of her looks. Of herself. She had an energy that simmered under her skin. The type of energy that didn’t scream “small town” in any way. She belonged on the crowded sidewalks of a big city, striding along as she plotted to take over the planet. She stuck out like a sore thumb in his little town. He rolled over in bed, noting the sun was barely lighting the eastern sky outside the two large windows facing the lake. This was going to be a long day.
As much as Nate liked the thick dark brew he made in his shop, he also had a secret love affair with Nora’s Americano at The Gallant Brew. The coffee shop was across the street from the hardware store, next door to her husband Asher’s furniture studio. Nate fed Hank, listened to the daily string of obscenities, then put his Be Right Back sign on the door. He made a beeline for Nora’s place. The petite brunette laughed when he walked through the door.
“Uh-oh, someone needs an Americano!”
The cozy, brick-walled coffee shop only had a few customers at tables, including Steve and John playing their daily cribbage game. He nodded their way and walked back to the counter, anchored by the massive oak-and-glass display case he’d found for Nora in a barn sale two towns over. It was taller than she was, and round, with shelves that turned to display the baked goods. When he’d found it, the display had one broken glass panel, which curved to fit the cylindrical piece. It took him months to locate one online that would fit. Asher had refinished the display and installed the glass, giving it to Nora as an anniversary gift.
She set a bakery box on the counter. “A fresh batch of espresso is finishing up now. Let me just restock the pastries and I’ll pour it for you.” She opened the box and started displaying the croissants, cookies and scones. “Looking for a little extra caffeine, huh?”
“Yeah, one of those nights. I need a cup of your magic bean juice to get through the day. In fact, make it a double.”
Nora grinned, tucking her chin-length hair behind her ear. “Are you ready for the business owners’ meeting next week? Extending the boardwalk is on the agenda.”
The boardwalk had been Nate’s pet project for years. The original planners of Gallant Lake over a hundred years ago hadn’t fully appreciated the value of the waterfront. The businesses on the lake side of Main Street all faced the street, with storerooms and solid walls on the back—where the view was. But Nate knew the town did originally have a boardwalk along the waterfront. It had fallen into disrepair decades ago and had been removed. Nate started pushing for the boardwalk when he was back in high school—designing and starting it had been his Eagle Scout project. The town board approved it, but funds always seemed to come up short to actually do it. He’d built a lot of it himself, adding a new section every year.
The plan was to connect the small parks on either end of town with the boardwalk. A few more years and he might just get there. It already spanned the area behind most of the businesses on that side, including his. But people were reluctant to invest in remodeling their shops to open onto the waterfront. He understood—business hadn’t been great for decades. But now that the resort was so active, tourists were coming downtown more. That was why he wanted the town to apply for a state grant to finish the project and capture that opportunity before even more shops closed for good.
“This is the time to do it, Nora, before it’s too late.” He gestured out the windows toward the street. “If we can finish the boardwalk and maybe add a pier for boats and more benches for folks to sit on...”
Nora slid his double-shot Americano across the counter. “You don’t have to sell me on it, Nate. We need more businesses to attract more people, but we need more people to attract new businesses. It’s a vicious cycle, and we need to make a bold move like this.” She poured herself a coffee, then leaned on the counter and stared out the windows. “The women’s group has been talking about maybe adding some small festivals or something to bring more people. Having the boardwalk finished would be a big draw. We can’t afford to lose more storefronts.”
They’d already lost Stella Cortland’s souvenir shop. Frank and Mary’s consignment shop was struggling, and Louise DiAngelo’s hair salon wasn’t doing much better. Rumor had it she was ready to sell it and retire. The bakery had been closed for years. If it wasn’t for his side hobby of buying and selling antiques, the hardware store may not have been able to stay open this long. It barely provided him enough income to live on after the bills were paid.
Nora startled him out of his gloomy thoughts with her next comment.
“Oh, there’s Brittany. She’s up and out early today.”
Nate straightened and turned, expecting to see her at the door. But no, she was across the street, talking with Stella Cortland. Stella was in her seventies and split her time between Gallant Lake in the summer and Daytona in the winter. She owned the property attached to the hardware store, but she hadn’t been able to keep the souvenir shop going. It had closed for the winter two years ago and never reopened, and she hadn’t found a renter yet. Nate would have loved to buy the property and knock through the connecting wall, but there was no way he could afford it. Stella pointed up near the peak of her three-story brick building, where the trim desperately needed a fresh coat of paint.
Brittany Doyle held up her fancy tablet and took a picture of the damaged trim. Nate’s forehead furrowed. Why would Brittany need photos of anything here, especially chipped and rotted wood trim? She took another photo of the empty shop windows, chattering away nonstop to Stella as she did. Nate frowned, turning back to Nora.
“Wait... How do you know Brittany Doyle? She’s only been here a few days.”
Nora arched a single brow. “Serious
ly? I’m the only show in town for coffee and sweets. I get to know a lot of people. I’m more interested in how you know Brittany and how you know how long she’s been here.”
“Did she tell you why she’s in Gallant Lake?”
“Why do you sound so suspicious? She’s renting one of Vince Foster’s cabins on the lake.” She laughed and gestured toward the windows and the lake beyond. “We want people, remember?” Her smile faded when he didn’t laugh with her. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. She came in the store a few days ago, and she just didn’t seem...” He struggled to find the right words, since he wasn’t sure himself what bothered him about her. “She didn’t seem to fit here. I mean, look at her.”
It was a warm late-August morning in a rustic resort town, and Brittany was in a long, trim dress of dark blue with matching shoes. Her hair was tucked under a wide-brimmed straw hat with a white bow. It looked more appropriate for Monte Carlo than Gallant Lake. Large sunglasses covered the top half of her face. He grimaced.
“Does that look like someone who’d want to live here? With that dramatic hat and those Hollywood sunglasses...”
Instead of agreeing, Nora narrowed her eyes at him, her mouth pressed into a firm line.
“Nathan Thomas, what is wrong with you? I was in Five and Design yesterday when Brittany bought that hat.” Her hand rested on her hip. “You know—that place my cousin owns? The cousin who was an internationally famous fashion model? The one who moved to Gallant Lake from Miami and stayed? Why are you being so quick to judge Brittany?”
Nate pulled back in surprise, but she had a point. Melanie Lowery had come to town a few years back and settled right in, bringing high fashion to Main Street with her boutique. Then she convinced another confirmed city dweller, Shane Brannigan, to move here, too. They bought a house, got married and just had a new baby boy.
