“Now that’s my Sera,” he said, reaching across the open center to rest his arm on the back of her seat. “My sweet Sera. But I admit, I like this other side of you too.”
She drove by the library and took him out to the far edge of town, past the landfill. Boy, those stakeouts there had been interesting. She couldn’t share those memories, though. Marcus would have a fit if he knew she’d been following bad guys and breaking and entering. That certainly wasn’t a hobby he’d want the press to get wind of. But more than that, Sera simply wanted something of her own, and all the escapades she and the Summer Haven girls had experienced were hers.
Marcus pointed out a renovated old cotton gin. “What’s that?”
“The Gypsy Cotton Art Gallery.”
“Looks empty.”
Which broke Sera’s heart. The high-ceilinged space was so airy and welcoming, and the people of Summer Shoals had been so proud to have a cultural touchstone in town. No more. “Let’s just say the owner had other, more pressing, commitments. So she had to walk away from the gallery.”
“Someone should do something with the space. It’s too architecturally interesting to stand empty.”
Maybe Sera should mention it to Jenny, since she taught art part-time at the high school. Then again, it would take a lot of time and effort to get a gallery up and running again. But it was also a perfect spot for community get-togethers. Not only art showings, but potlucks, parties, fundraising events.
Oh goodness, it would be great for yoga classes on days when it was too cold or rainy to host them on Summer Haven’s lawn. If only her life would allow her to spearhead something like that.
She looked away from the abandoned building because it hurt too much to think of things she wasn’t free to do. “And up here are the schools. There are some beautiful old farms on this side of town, and the sheriff lives out this way.”
“Summer Shoals is perfect for my next movie.” He hummed as she cruised down Main Street. “A romantic comedy. I think the Southern twist could make it more engaging. Can you imagine a couple walking down this street? In the rain! Yes.”
Was it her imagination, or was Marcus tapping out the tune of AC/DC’s “Back in Black” on the door panel? Finn’s band had included that cover song on their last album. But when she glanced over, Marcus was gazing out the window, clearly in his own world dreaming up another award-winning scene. She let him immerse himself in his own world because, although his work-work-work tendencies sometimes made her feel like an outsider, there was something to be said for a couple being so comfortable that they didn’t need to fill every space with conversation.
She let him hum, drum, and daydream as she tooled around town and then went back to the town square. She pulled the van into a parking spot and got out. Marcus piled out of the passenger seat, still talking to himself about his next movie.
Sera took a minute to draw in the Georgia spring air, which was beginning to turn thick and damp. In the time she was back in California, she’d had to laugh when some of her old-life friends had complained about the “horrible humidity.” People in Los Angeles had no idea what real humidity was.
But her normal pleasure at the balmy weather was suppressed because of Marcus’s persistent chatter about this quaint Southern town.
It was like he’d already put Jessie’s funeral out of his mind. It wouldn’t be that easy for Sera. Jessie had as much influence on her life as her dad, and losing another special mentor was heartbreaking. It made her feel vulnerable and panicked. Made her wonder if she was living up to their expectations. If she was truly living her best life.
“Without a doubt, the American public is ready for another Southern-set romantic comedy. Think Sweet Home Alabama, but set in Georgia. The economy is just depressed enough that people need something happy and lighthearted in their lives.” He began humming “Für Elise.” That was more like the Marcus she knew. That habit had been absolutely adorable when they first met, but now it was a sign not to bother to say anything important because his wheels were turning.
“But there are plenty of other locations you could scout.”
“You have to admit Summer Shoals is terminally charming, though. And it’s obvious the town could use an influx of money.” He held out his arms and turned in a circle as if bestowing his blessing on the town.
“That’s more than a little condescending.”
“Wasn’t meant to be. Just thought it would be nice to help a place you had ties to, and who doesn’t want their town to be in a movie?”
Plenty of people. Me for one. The last thing in the world she wanted was for her Hollywood life to invade her Summer Shoals life, the one she considered the more real of the two.
“Shooting a movie here could change this town forever,” he said.
And not in a good way. “My point exactly.”
“How do you think Lil would feel about Summer Haven being used as a movie location?”
Sera’s insides swirled like the water down a drain. She gaped at her husband. “Excuse me?”
He held out his hands in a goalpost gesture as though he were looking through the viewfinder of a video camera. “It could be like a modern-day Tara. Now, there’s an idea, a romantic comedy remake of Gone with the Wind.”
How in the world he could translate a movie set in the Civil War into modern day and make it a romantic comedy, Sera had no idea. But if anyone could, it was him. After all, he’d built his entire career and reputation from trying outrageous projects that no one else would touch. He’d once made a feature film about the Tamil Tigers’ impact on Sri Lanka and terrorism in that region. Only Marcus could’ve made that both a critical and commercial success. “You realize there are antebellum houses all over the state, all over the Southeast. Why Summer Shoals?”
He paused in his hungry study of the quaint streets. “Because you obviously love it. And anything you love, I love too.”
How true had that been back when all she’d wanted was a normal family life and he was flitting off to Sri Lanka to shoot that movie? That had been the initial breaking point for her.
Had she been a total fool to think things would be different now?
Marcus wasn’t a bad man. He was simply passionate, and when he was passionate about something, it consumed him completely.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to his chest. And although his ocean-fresh scent reminded her of good times, happy times, the steel in his arms made her feel trapped and claustrophobic. Something inside her resented the fact that he was falling in love with Summer Shoals.
This was her place. Hers.
That I-need-some-space feeling took over again, and she eased away.
She approached the window of Holloway House & Home Realty and spotted a sign in the lower right corner that robbed her of breath. “No.”
“What’s wrong?” Marcus came to her side and put his hand on her lower back.
She hadn’t realized she’d uttered the word aloud. “The Gypsy Cotton Gallery is for sale.”
“We drove by that. Over near the school.”
“Yes.”
“I wouldn’t think a town this size has much of an art culture.”
She stared at the For Sale flyer detailing the old warehouse’s square footage and amenities. “You’d be surprised. You’ve heard of the sculptor Colton Ellerbee?”
“Ellerbee? Yeah. He makes reclaimed artifacts into sculptures, right?”
Reclaimed artifacts? Junk was more like it, but whatever. “His studio isn’t far from here. This gallery sold some of his pieces and was actually doing well there for a while. Then some unfortunate things happened, but I’d hoped the gallery would rebound.”
“Doesn’t look like it.”
“No.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “It’s such a disappointment.” It never occurred to her that the gallery would be in jeopardy of closing permanently because of the bad press it had suffered last year. Very short-sighted of her.
He tu
gged on her arm until she turned to face him. “It’s clear how much you love this community. I think you might rather be here than California.”
If she admitted that aloud, they’d both know their marriage was over. After all, Marcus would never leave Los Angeles. “The people here are good,” she said. Real.
He leaned over and peered closer at the flyer in the window.
Someone from the other side of Main called out, “Gonna buy a place around here, Marcus?”
He raised a hand to a man across the street. “Hey there, Jimmy. I haven’t forgotten about that lip-sync challenge. I’ll have my people get with your people.”
Jimmy grinned. “You’re on.”
Marcus lip-syncing? Since when? And it was a bit surreal to have her husband waving and talking to people in Summer Shoals like he belonged here. It was as if he’d picked up all of Hollywood and plopped it down in Georgia. She’d be glad when all these people climbed on an airplane and went back home.
If this town wasn’t careful, its quaint streets, hometown shops, and cute town square would be glitter-fied. Someone would probably put up a big white SUMMER SHOALS sign on the hill near the landfill.
Before she could ask Marcus why he was urging her down the sidewalk, he greeted some others. “Ellen, great to see you. Love that short haircut, as always. And Steve, I’m working to get a team together for Celebrity Family Feud.”
There wasn’t a single fan trailing any of the three TV personalities. Surely the townspeople knew who they all were, but it was refreshing to see they were being respectful and giving the stars space and privacy. That had to feel like complete heaven. Probably why so many of them were still hanging around.
Sera triple-stepped to keep up with the speed Marcus was guiding her along. “Where are we going?”
“Right inside here.” With a dramatic flourish, he swung open the door to the Realty office. He flashed his most charming smile at the receptionist and leaned on the countertop separating them. “Hello there, sweetheart. I’d like to see Daisy Holloway. Does she happen to be in?”
The receptionist blinked as if trying to decide why she was so entranced with a man who was almost old enough to be her grandfather. Marcus affected all women that way. Eight minutes to eighty years old, there wasn’t a one of them he couldn’t charm senseless. In fact, he and Teague reminded her of each other in that way. “She’s…uh…I think…”
A professionally dressed woman in a blazer with Holloway House & Home Realty embroidered on the lapel came through a doorway. “Did I hear someone ask for me?”
Marcus swung his charm superpower in her direction. “I understand the local art gallery is for sale.”
The Realtor’s eyes flashed with interest, and she thrust a hand in his direction. “I’m Daisy. Why don’t you join me in my office and I’ll pull the file on it?”
As had happened so often in the past, the woman barely glanced at Sera as she waved Marcus through the doorway. Sera trailed the pair. How many times had she looked at Marcus’s back while she followed him somewhere? Realtor’s office, parties, Hollywood premieres. Heck, she’d probably seen her husband’s backside more than she’d seen his front side.
Although she had to admit his backside was still plenty fine.
“The gallery space is newly renovated,” the Realtor said. “Such a shame what happened with the owner, but her misfortune will definitely be someone else’s boon. I don’t think I’m talking out of turn by telling you her husband is a very motivated seller.”
Rather than sitting in the blue leather chair next to her husband, Sera wandered around the office until she came to the window. Within three minutes, she spotted Tom Hanks, Emma Stone, and Ryan Reynolds.
It was disorienting to have her small-town streets being strolled by the rich and famous, as if her old life had invaded her new one, and she could feel the muscles in her shoulders slowly coil into knots. She reminded herself what she preached to her friends here all the time. Relax. Align your chakras. Breathe in and out. Slowly. Cleanse your mind. Only her advice didn’t seem to be working today.
In fact, tears were stinging the backs of her eyes.
“How much is he asking?” Marcus asked the Realtor. He’d never been a patient man.
Daisy shook her curls and grinned. “Only $280,000. A bargain, I’m telling you. Almost giving it away.”
Marcus finally turned his attention toward Sera. “Did you hear that, darling? Only $280,000.”
Sera had never met Daisy, but she’d heard Darrell mention that his sister was an excellent businesswoman. The word he’d used was ruthless. The gallery was probably marked at $100,000 to anyone without a California zip code. “That’s still a lot of money around here, which means it’ll be a long time before someone buys the space, if ever.” She tried to swallow the sadness welling up in her, but when she spoke, her words were thick.
“Sera, are you okay?”
She swiped at her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
Marcus quickly reached inside the breast pocket of his sport coat and dropped his card on the Realtor’s desk. “Please keep me posted on this property, Ms. Holloway.”
Then he ushered Sera out onto the sidewalk and around the corner so they weren’t in view of everyone walking down Main. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s not you. I just…” She held up her hands then let them drop helplessly against her sides.
“You miss Jessie, don’t you?”
“So much.” Oh, goodness, Sera’s waterworks went haywire. “I wish I’d stayed in closer contact with her. I’ve barely seen her in the past few years, but…”
Slowly, gently, giving her plenty of time to pull away, Marcus drew her into his arms. “But she was incredibly important to you. In the past few years, you’ve lost some of the people you love most in the world.”
“I’m in my fifties, which means it’s going to happen. I can’t avoid death, no matter what Hollywood wants us to believe.”
“No, but you know I’m here for you. Here to listen, here to hold you, or here to talk with you about Jessie.”
“Thank you.” Although Sera drew away from his embrace, she slipped her hand in his and glanced back at the real estate office. “Marcus, what would you do with an art gallery?”
When he flashed Sera the smile that had won her heart all those years ago, she felt something give inside her chest. “I don’t know yet,” he said. “But there’s something there. It’ll come to me.”
And she was certain it would, because that was how Marcus was. He had an instinct that led him in all the right decisions. Why couldn’t she have that same clarity about her own life?
Chapter 6
Lil had been nervous about renting out a room to a stranger, but to her delight Charlie Millet was a delight, even commenting on the quality of the towels and the way she’d folded them. Take that, Angelina.
So on her paying guest’s first morning at Summer Haven, Lil got up early and cooked peaches and cream French toast, since Charlie had mentioned he was a fan of breakfast breads.
He was obviously a discerning man who appreciated small touches, which made Lil happier than she could’ve imagined. Why had she balked at the idea of having a paying guest? Maybe overnighters were exactly what this old house needed to keep things interesting.
From the moment he’d cruised up in his big blue SUV with tinted windows, Charlie had been nothing but fun to fuss over.
This morning, she’d hoped the smell of breakfast and fresh coffee would lure him out of his room, but he hadn’t made his way downstairs yet.
Since she hated for food to go to waste, Lil took the stairs to the second floor. Sera and Marcus were sleeping in too, although Lil had no idea how Sera could sleep through that man’s snoring. In fact, she’d worried Charlie might complain about it, but he hadn’t.
Before Charlie arrived, Lil had half-teased Sera, saying perhaps she and Marcus might want to camp in the van down by the creek for old time’s sake. But Marcus h
ad given both Lil and Sera the stink-eye. “You were sleeping outside? In the van?”
“Not because Lil made me. It was my choice,” Sera said, looking a bit frazzled about admitting to Marcus how different her life here had been.
Afterward, Lil felt bad about the slip.
Needless to say, they’d remained in the room where Abby Ruth’s daughter, Jenny, had stayed for a while. But Lil wasn’t a hundred percent certain that Sera wasn’t sneaking outside and sleeping under the stars once Marcus set to snoring each night. And she couldn’t blame her a single bit.
Lil rapped the back of her knuckles on her guest’s door. “Excuse me, Charlie. Breakfast is ready.” She pressed her hand against the door, leaning in to take a listen.
The old oak planks creaked under the weight of Charlie’s feet. He swung the door open with a smile, his phone against his ear. His dark hair sparkled with water droplets and his mustache was neatly combed. Now this was a young man who knew something about proper grooming. “I’m on a call.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I wanted to let you know I made French toast and bacon. Everything’s hot.”
“Just a sec.” He held up a finger, turned his back to her, and spoke quietly into his phone. He murmured a few words Lil couldn’t make out then shoved the phone into his back pocket and turned to face her again. “You’ve been so accommodating. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you opening your home to me.”
Lil’s heart did a mini cha-cha. If she and Harlan had ever been blessed with a son, hopefully he would’ve been like Charlie. He was probably the type to visit often and handy enough to come by and help out from time to time.
“You’re welcome to stay here any time. Just give me a call. I usually have a spare room in this big house.”
“Thank you, Ms. Fairview,” Charlie said.
“Lillian.” She wagged a finger at him. “How many times do I have to tell you?”
“Thank you, Miss Lillian. Being here is more like fancy couch-surfing with friends rather than renting a room in a stuffy, fussy place like Angelina’s.”
Under the Gun Page 5
