Starlight Love

by Kat Bellemore

  Oh, right. This part always got a bit confusing. His costars wouldn’t be surprised that he suddenly sounded like he’d come from across the pond, but he never quite knew how to handle it with the locals. “Depends on the movie,” he finally said.

  Adeline’s eyes registered understanding, but her lips pursed, like it annoyed her. “I see. Well, I’m going to still call you Eli, if you don’t mind.”

  Eli let it go; it wasn’t worth arguing over. He picked up a couple more boxes. “How much do I owe you?”

  Adeline shook her head as she attempted to gather up more chocolates. “It was my fault.”

  “I’d like to buy them,” he repeated.

  Adeline hesitated, but she must have realized that Eli wasn’t going to back down, because she finally relented and counted the boxes that surrounded them. “You want all eight?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She stood and brushed chocolate flecks off her pants, then retrieved a large bag from behind the counter. It had the store’s logo on it. She paused to pull on a pair of disposable gloves, then knelt back down over the mess.

  Eli had to hold in a smile as she examined each chocolate and tried to get them back into their designated spots. Her brow furrowed when she couldn’t quite make out the flavor of one, because the top had been damaged. “I think this one is strawberry daiquiri, but it could also be caramel,” she said, squinting like that would help her distinguish which one it was.

  “It’s all right if they don’t make it back into the right boxes. I like surprises. It’ll be fun, never knowing what I’ll get.” That was how Benjamin liked it, anyway—chaotic. Eli was the type to compare each chocolate to the back of the box so he knew what to expect.

  But Adeline seemed relieved by his statement, and Eli was grateful that he was less himself and more Benjamin at the moment. Once all the chocolates had made it back into their boxes, she made sure each one was properly taped shut before placing it in the bag. “I normally secure the lids before I bring them in from the back, and I thought I had,” she said, seeming flustered.

  Eli wished he could somehow help her feel better. Purchasing the chocolates just didn’t seem enough at the moment. Adeline handed him the bulging bag and moved toward the cash register.

  “I know you work really hard to have a nice store,” he said, following her to the counter. “And I’ve made a mess of things. Literally.” Brown streaks on the once-shiny floor had been left as evidence of the incident, and Eli scanned the store, looking for a broom. He spied the edge of a dustpan in the doorway that led to the back.

  Leaning the overflowing bag of chocolates against the front counter, Eli said, “Allow me to help.” Then, without waiting for permission, he walked past Adeline and grabbed the broom that had been hiding just out of view. At first Adeline watched, an amused smile flickering across her features, but when she realized what he was about to attempt, she hurried after him.

  “You’re going to spread the chocolate,” she said. She placed a hand on the broom, stilling his actions. “Don’t worry about the mess.” Her tone was softer than it had been a minute earlier. “I’ll mop it up after I get you taken care of.” Adeline gently took the broom from his hands and leaned it against the wall on her way back to the register. “Your total comes to 78.13.”

  Eli gaze swept the counter, but he didn’t see the machine where he could insert his card.

  “We do things the old-fashioned way here,” Adeline said with a small smile and held out her hand.

  Eli handed her his credit card and she swiped it for him. When it came time to sign the receipt, he wrote in a rather large tip. $121.87, to be exact. He liked even numbers. And $200 seemed like a nice number, especially considering the mess he’d left for her to clean up.

  Her eyes widened like she’d never seen a dollar amount that big before. She opened the cash register and started counting out bills like you would at the market, as if he’d asked for cash back.

  He stepped back. “No. All of that is for you. I really am sorry.”

  Adeline paused, seeming conflicted. She looked like she really wanted to finish counting out his change.

  “Please. It’s the least I can do.”

  With a small nod, she placed the money back in the register and pushed it closed. “Thank you.”

  An awkward silence ensued.

  “I…better clean things up,” she finally said, turning away.

  Eli moved away from the counter, unintentionally blocking her way. “Let me do it.”

  Adeline gave him a curious look and sidestepped him. “You’ve already apologized and paid far more than the chocolate was worth. All has been forgiven. Really, it’s not a big deal. I’ve seen worse.”

  “How about if we do a trade, then?” Eli said, taking a few quick steps backwards. Even he heard the desperation in his voice, and it wasn’t at all attractive. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was really how Benjamin would have handled things.

  It stopped Adeline’s movements, though, and she raised an eyebrow. He continued, encouraged that she hadn’t kicked him out of her store yet. “I’ll tidy up while you answer a couple of questions. The second I’m done, I’ll take my chocolate and leave you in peace.”

  Adeline remained quiet, studying him. She finally nodded and said, “All right. But only because I’m intrigued about what could be so important that Eli Hunt is practically begging me to allow him to mop my floor.”

  When she put it that way, it sounded a lot more pathetic than he’d like, but he took some comfort in the fact that it was Benjamin that was the pathetic one, and not in fact Eli. He’d need to speak fast, though, because it would only take him a couple of minutes to clean up the chocolate.

  Adeline disappeared into the back, and when she returned, she was holding a mop and pushing a wheeled bucket of soapy water. She handed him the mop, then sat on a stool behind the counter. “Okay. What’s your first question?”

  “You don’t like me much, do you?”

  Eli froze. That wasn’t the question he’d intended on asking, and it had escaped so quickly, he hadn’t had a chance to stop it. Not only did he not want to know the answer, but Benjamin never would have asked it in the first place. The British actor didn’t care what others thought of him, and Eli was supposed to be seeing the world as Benjamin did.

  “Never mind. I’ll ask a different one.” Before Eli had the chance, though, Adeline spoke.

  She shifted on the stool, like it was uncomfortable. “It’s not that I don’t like you. Not exactly. I just…” She trailed off, as if searching for the right words. “I don’t trust you.”

  Huh. That hadn’t been what he’d been expecting. Usually women who held a grudge against Eli were mad at him for something his character had done in a movie—things that Eli would never actually do, but people tended to associate the real him with his characters. When he thought about it, it was understandable, especially because he would become that character for months at a time.

  And then, of course, there were the women who had actually dated him—and the one who had been married to him—but their reasons for not liking him were a completely different matter.

  “Did I say something on a talk show that you didn’t fancy?” he asked with Benjamin’s typical bravado. He gave her his most charming smile, hoping it would help get him back into her good graces.

  It didn’t work.

  Adeline’s lips didn’t even twitch. Surely she had to be fighting a smile, but if she was, she gave no indication.

  “Want me to take over for you?” she asked, nodding to the mop that Eli still held but hadn’t even begun to use.

  “No, no, I got it,” he said, turning his attention back to the brown streaks on the floor. Eli dipped the mop in the bucket, then swished it back and forth a couple of times. Unfortunately, the soapy water only seemed to spread the chocolate, making the mess worse. He stopped and leaned on the mop handle. “Do you use alcohol in your truffles?”

  That finally
got a reaction. Adeline’s eyebrows popped up. “No, it’s not that kind of chocolate shop.”

  Eli dared to laugh. “And I’m not that kind of bloke.” Oh, wait. Yes, he was. Or at least, Benjamin was. What was it about Adeline that was throwing him off his game? It wasn’t usually this difficult to immerse himself in his characters, even the deeply dark ones, which Benjamin wasn’t. “I’m not usually,” he amended. “The thing is, Benjamin…er…I…happen to be an alcoholic actor who is shooting a film in a small coastal town that doesn’t have a single pub or liquor shop.”

  Adeline’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Sounds vaguely familiar.”

  “Are you familiar with amaretto?”

  She nodded slowly. “Yes, but I’ve only used it when baking or in truffles or that kind of thing. I like the almond flavor.”

  “So, you have used alcohol in your chocolate-making endeavors,” Eli said with a grin.

  “Only in my personal kitchen,” she said, casting a furtive glance around her shop, like she was afraid someone would overhear and think she’d been spiking their chocolates. When she saw they were alone, she quickly changed the subject. “So, what happens to your poor alcoholic actor?” Eli didn’t miss the slight hint of sarcasm. Adeline apparently didn’t think much of Benjamin.

  “He buys twelve boxes of amaretto truffles.”

  Adeline got a knowing glint in her eye. “And he doesn’t get the least bit buzzed, does he?”

  “Benjamin only makes it through the first six boxes before he pukes his guts out.” Eli took his time dipping the mop head back into the bucket, squeezing out the excess water, then swishing it over the floor. “It isn’t because he’s drunk, though. The bloke has just eaten over seventy truffles in a vain attempt at getting plastered, and gets completely sick to his stomach.” He watched Adeline as he mopped. “That leads me to one of the questions I wanted to ask you. I wondered if it’s even possible to get drunk off truffles.”

  “Not in the way you’re describing. Now, if we’re talking about liqueur-filled chocolates, it’s possible, but you’ll stop eating them before you’re drunk, mostly because the crazy amount of sugar will make you feel like you just died.” Adeline stepped down from the stool. “Not that I have any experience with such things.” Tiptoeing across the wet floor, her arms out to the sides as if she were on a balance beam, Adeline approached him. His heart beat faster than it should. When she stopped next to him, she said, “I think I better take over from here.”

  Eli snapped out of his stupor. “Really, I don’t mind doing it,” he said, not relinquishing the mop.

  “So you keep telling me.” Adeline nodded at the floor. The chocolate streaks were gone, but the once-cream tile had taken on a muddy hue. Eli had definitely made things worse.

  “Blimey, I guess you better.” He sighed as he released his grip on the mop and carefully made his way back to the counter, leaving chocolatey footprints in his wake. “I wish there was a way I could make it up to you.”

  Adeline seemed to be fighting a smile as she made quick work of the mess he’d left behind. “I think you already did by buying eight boxes of chocolate. Just don’t eat them all in one sitting like your alter ego.”

  “Duly noted.” Eli watched Adeline work for another moment, but she sent an occasional glance his way that told him his presence was making her nervous. He supposed having a stranger staring at you while you mopped the floor could be unnerving. “I should probably get going.”

  Adeline’s movements didn’t slow as she rinsed out the mop. “Okay.”

  “So…I’ll see you next week, I guess.”

  “Yup. Next week.”

  All righty, then. Eli was careful to stay on his tiptoes, feeling ridiculous, like an off-balance ballerina, as he made his way toward the door. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Adeline was watching him, her eyes bright, laughing at him. When she realized he’d caught her staring, her gaze dropped back to the newly cleaned floor, and she pushed the wheeled bucket toward the back of the store.

  His hand was on the door handle when Adeline called from the back of the store, “Nice jacket, by the way. It suits you. As does the accent.”

  And then she disappeared with her mop bucket.

  He grinned. So, the chocolate-shop owner had a soft spot for leather jackets and British blokes. He’d need to talk to wardrobe about letting him hang on to Benjamin’s jacket after filming was finished.

  8

  Long after the floor was dry, Adeline was still thinking about her encounter with Eli Hunt. She knew she hadn’t been exactly pleasant, but she’d seen no choice. Adeline hadn’t anticipated the attraction she’d feel toward him and those crazy deep brown eyes. And that accent.

  Holy. Cow.

  Adeline knew it wasn’t real—that it was him playing make-believe, preparing for his role in the movie. But that hadn’t stopped his accent from being one of the sexiest things she’d ever heard.

  The thing that had sent her resolve reeling, though, was when he’d insisted on cleaning the chocolate from her floor. Adeline had met plenty of actors, but she was pretty sure none of them had ever held a mop before.

  And so, at the risk of being rude, she’d forced herself to keep her distance. Guilt lodged in her stomach. She’d allowed the actor to buy nearly eighty dollars’ worth of chocolates that had been on the floor. And he’d paid more than double the price for them. Adeline released a deep sigh. Even though Eli had refused to take no for an answer, she still felt the need to apologize for it.

  Adeline glanced at her watch. Eleven thirty. Lunch and a long walk sounded nice—something to help clear her head. As soon as she thought it, however, the front door to her store swung open, and the first customer of the day walked in. And then a second. And a third. Ever since Eli’s crew had started to arrive the previous day, things had gotten a lot busier for her small store.

  Adeline didn’t usually keep as much stock on hand during the winter months, and by the time she locked up at the end of the day, she had nearly sold out, all on an empty stomach.

  Adeline slumped against the counter, exhausted. She liked being busy and all, but during tourist season, she always had a couple of high school kids helping out. Now she was on her own, and she’d be up late making more chocolates for the next day.

  A knock sounded on the front door. Even as she inwardly groaned, she plastered on a smile. She’d already flipped her sign to CLOSED, but she couldn’t turn away a potential customer. Adeline’s fake smile turned genuine when she saw it was Jessie. Her friend held a couple of folding chairs, and a bag full of food was slung over one arm.

  “You coming to the Sunset Stroll? One of these chairs has your name on it.”

  Adeline looked past Jessie toward where the town was beginning to gather on the sand. There weren’t as many people as during the summer months, when the weather was warmer and the tourists outnumbered the local residents.

  All the same, it sounded heavenly after the day she’d had—just sitting on the beach with her friends, watching as the lowering sun cast its colors across both the sky and the water. And Jessie had food, which was a bonus.

  “Of course,” Adeline said. “Let me just grab the lights and lock up.” She hoped she’d be able to relax and not think about how much work she still had to do. It was only five o’clock—the early sunset was thanks to the shorter winter days—and she deserved a small break. She’d have plenty of time to finish up after.

  Once she joined Jessie outside, Adeline took one of the chairs from her friend, as well as the food bag, helping lighten the load.

  “I’m not so old that I can’t manage carrying a few things,” Jessie protested.

  “I know. But I’m not so young that I allow my friends to carry all the burden.”

  Jessie snorted. “For someone who just barely hit thirty, you don’t seem to have a very high opinion of youth.”

  Adeline smiled as she adjusted the bag strap on her shoulder. “I think I’ve worked one too many tourist
seasons. If I had my way, spring break would be outlawed.”

  “That’s the beauty of retirement,” Jessie said, grinning. “I get to hide.”

  “I still have another few decades before I’ll be able to say the same thing. You did it smart.”

  They crossed from the boardwalk onto the sand. The temperature seemed to drop by several degrees as they neared the water’s edge, and Adeline wished she’d brought some fingerless gloves—something that would keep her hands warm but not stop her from eating the food Jessie had brought along.

  Adeline slowed as Jessie came to a stop. Her friend seemed confused as her gaze swept across the shoreline. “What’s up?” Adeline asked, unable to see the source of the confusion.

  “My usual spot…someone’s taken it. No one ever sits in my spot. Not in the last thirty years.”

  Adeline’s arms were beginning to tire, and she set the chair and bag of food down on the sand. “I knew you liked to sit in the same area each night, but you’ve been sitting there every night since you were a teenager?”

  Jessie nodded, then pointed to a cluster of people. “Yup. Right there.”

  Adeline squinted in the direction Jessie indicated. No one ever gathered in big groups like that for the Sunset Stroll. It was more of an intimate kind of event. Except for the tourists. But it wasn’t tourist seas… Oh. It made sense now. “They must be some of the film crew. There’s no way they could have known that bit of sand was yours. We could ask them to move, if you’d like.”

  Jessie seemed to brighten. “Oh, no, I don’t think that will be necessary.” She craned her neck, like she was trying to get a better view. “Do you think Eli Hunt is with them? I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him. In fact, he can have my spot every night.” Not only did she not seem to mind it, she sounded positively giddy at the prospect.

  Oh, no. Adeline wasn’t going to let Jessie go all starstruck on her. That was the problem with movie stars. They got preferential treatment, no matter where they went. Crazy rich celebrities didn’t need complimentary meals or to skip the line that dozens of other people were already waiting in. Those types of things only made everything worse.