She didn’t draw a breath until the doors sealed and the elevator began to drop. She placed a palm over a heart that was threatening to beat its way out of her chest. Her white blouse clung to her back, and her skin prickled beneath her arms.
She closed her eyes, the scene that had just transpired playing out in fast-forward in her mind. And then, as if that montage weren’t painful enough, the image of Nick’s face appeared. The look on his face just before he’d kissed her good-bye last night.
Nick. She clamped her teeth together until her jaw ached.
There had been signs. Many of them, really, she was realizing now. They ranged from whisper-subtle to neon-sign obvious. But like so many other walking clichés before her, she was only seeing them in retrospect.
Maddy opened her eyes to the buttery sunlight streaming through her blinds. She scrambled for her iPhone to check the time. But as she did so, the events of yesterday washed over her like a tsunami. She didn’t have to get up at all, because she didn’t have a job anymore.
Her cell buzzed with an incoming call, and she squinted bleary-eyed at the unfamiliar number on the screen before declining it.
She drooped against her pillow, only now aware of how fat and swollen her eyes felt. Of the persistent achy lump pushing at the back of her throat. Her heartbeat made the bed quake. Her eyes burned with tears. Yesterday’s anger had faded, and something worse had filled its spot.
Yesterday she’d come home, changed into yoga pants, and worked in her little garden until she was too exhausted to do anything but flop on the sofa. She hadn’t fallen asleep until after three o’clock in the morning.
She didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to see anyone. She didn’t even want to be awake today. She pulled the covers over her head and prayed for oblivion.
A steady pounding pulled Maddy awake. She turned her face into the pillow. Sleep. She just wanted to sleep. But the noise was relentless. Someone was pounding at her apartment door.
“Go away,” she mumbled.
She wondered if it was Nick, coming with some lame apology. As if “sorry” could make up for what he’d done.
Her phone buzzed an incoming call on her nightstand. Why couldn’t everyone just let her be? When the buzzing stopped the pounding resumed.
“Argh!” She tossed back the covers and checked her phone as a text buzzed in. Her best friend, Holly: Open the door.
Before she could put down the phone it buzzed again. I know you’re in there.
Maddy let loose a sigh that had been building awhile. She pushed off the mattress, realizing she’d fallen into bed in the same yoga pants and T-shirt she’d gardened in. Gardened was such a tame word to describe her treatment of those poor weeds. She hated to think of the sight she must’ve made, tearing through her zinnias like a crazy woman.
A glance at the hall mirror also told a sad tale. A bedraggled ponytail captured only half of her hair, and dark smudges underlined puffy eyes.
She walked to the door and pulled it open, interrupting the loud banging. “All right already. Jeez.”
Holly’s brown eyes widened in surprise, whether at Maddy’s sudden materialization or her disheveled appearance, she didn’t know.
Leaving the door open, Maddy retreated into her living room, seeking the comforting embrace of her overstuffed sofa. She grabbed a fluffy yellow pillow and pulled it into her stomach.
Holly dropped beside her, the smell of fresh soil and flowers emanating off her. They’d met three years ago at the nursery where Holly worked, bonding over their love of all things green and growing.
“What happened yesterday?” Holly asked. “Noelle said there was some squabble at the restaurant and you tore off.”
Yesterday’s scene at Pirouette played out yet again in Maddy’s mind, making her eyes sting.
Holly set her hand over Maddy’s. “Honey, what’s going on? Did you lose the promotion? It’s not the end of the world. You’re still assistant manager of Charlotte’s most prestigious restaurant. There’ll be other opportunities for—”
“I caught Nick and Evangeline together.”
Holly blinked. “Evangeline, the owner? What do you mean, ‘together’?”
“I mean exactly what you think I mean. They were all over each other.” The image of it made her heart crumple up like a wad of trash.
Holly’s eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. “That jerk.”
“But it’s worse than that. I heard him accepting the promotion.”
“What?” The indignation on Holly’s face was like salve on a raw wound.
But his words still haunted her. You made the right decision . . . Maddy’s a terrific girl, but she gets frazzled . . . Wouldn’t be able to handle more responsibility . . .
Was there a nugget of truth in what he’d said? Had she been deluding herself all along?
“Did they see you?”
Maddy gave a harsh laugh. “Oh yes, they saw me. I stood there like a guppy, my mouth just working.”
“Who could blame you? You were blindsided, you poor thing.” Holly’s eyes pierced hers. “How long do you think it’s been going on?”
“I don’t know, but when I saw them together . . . I ran. I just ran away. Oh, Holly, he planned this, didn’t he? He played me like a fiddle.” Tears seeped out the corners of her eyes.
“I could just throttle him.”
It almost brought a smile to her face, trying to envision petite, pacifist Holly doing any such thing. She’d never cared for Nick, not that she’d said as much, but Maddy could tell. She should’ve trusted her friend’s instincts since, apparently, she couldn’t trust her own.
“I thought I was a shoo-in for that job.” Pirouette’s general manager was retiring and, as assistant manager, Maddy was next in line. “I feel so stupid.”
Nick, the restaurant’s beverage manager, had pursued her for months before Maddy finally went out with him. Holly had been encouraging her to put herself out there, and six months ago Maddy decided to give Nick a chance.
One date led to another. He was easy to talk to, he shared her faith, and since they were both passionate about the restaurant industry they found plenty to talk about.
“Let’s keep it professional at work,” he’d said as their relationship progressed beyond casual. It had seemed like a wise idea. But now she realized she may have played right into his plans.
Holly squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry, Maddy. You don’t deserve this.”
“I’m not gonna lie, losing the promotion is bad, and losing my job is even worse. But having Nick betray me like this . . . You know how hard it was for me to take a leap of faith like that.”
“Aw, honey.” She drew Maddy into an embrace. “I just hate this. It won’t always be this way, Mads. Someday you’ll find the right man to love, and it’ll all be worth it. I promise.”
“Was this his plan all along? To keep me out of the way while he sucked up to Evangeline? Did he ever care for me? I thought he did, but what do I know?” Maddy’s throat constricted around her words.
Holly rubbed her back. “Would it help if I told you he’s not worth the lint on this old, smelly T-shirt you’re wearing?”
“I feel like such an idiot. I keep remembering little things he said and did. I must’ve had blinders on.”
“Hey.” Holly pulled back and gave Maddy one of her stern looks. “Don’t you be putting this on yourself. You trusted him. You gave him the benefit of the doubt. Nick’s the idiot. Anyone who tosses you over like that needs his head examined.”
Maddy absorbed the warmth from Holly’s eyes. “I don’t know what I should do now.”
“You should tell Evangeline, that’s what you should do. Tell her you and Nick have been dating for six months and he was cheating on the both of you.”
“I’d love nothing more, believe you me.” She gave Holly a guilty look. “But I told Nick about my résumé.”
The air escaped Holly, deflating her posture. “Oh, Maddy.”
Four years ago when Maddy applied for the assistant manager job, she’d falsified her experience. It was only one job. She’d been at a low point and overly ambitious—not that that was an excuse. She wasn’t proud of it. She’d never done anything like that before or since, and she’d nearly come clean to Evangeline a dozen times over the years. She wished now that she had.
“Even if I go to Evangeline I won’t get my job back. And that’s on me. I knew what I was doing was wrong, and I did it anyway. That is my fault.”
Holly studied her thoughtfully. “What are you going to do, honey?”
“Eat an entire package of Oreos.”
Holly gave her a look. “After that.”
“Look for another job, I guess. At least I’ve got money in the bank. I’m not flat broke or anything. I just feel so . . . ruined.”
“You are not ruined.”
Maddy’s phone buzzed against her palm, and Holly uncurled her fingers and took it. “It’s Noelle. She’s worried about you. I’ll let her know I’m here and you’re okay.”
“Nice of her to check up on me,” Maddy mumbled, feeling numb after letting out her feelings.
She thought of all the people she was leaving behind at Pirouette. They weren’t friends exactly. She was their boss—used to be their boss. She thought of everything she’d put into her job. All the overtime, all the energy. She’d lived and breathed that place. It was the reason she’d gotten to the ripe old age of thirty-one without a ring on her finger. Well, part of the reason.
She’d loved everything about her job, from the staff to the patrons to the amazing aerial view of Charlotte. It was like throwing a party every day. She’d made the restaurant the most important thing in her life, had made Nick runner-up, and now they were both gone.
“Honey, you’ve got, like, twenty unopened texts on here. And a bunch of missed calls.”
Maddy shook away the cobwebs. “What time is it anyway? And why aren’t you at work?”
“It’s after three, honey. I just got off. Have you been in bed all day?”
“Maybe.”
She was going to have to put out her résumé again—undoctored this time. She could do this. Maybe she’d wind up at an even better restaurant. But they didn’t come much better than Pirouette. Was she willing to move away from Charlotte? She didn’t even want to think about that.
Holly held up the phone. “Who’s this from a 910 area code?”
“Telemarketer probably.”
“They’ve called five times. Look.”
“I don’t recognize the number.”
“They left a bunch of voicemails.”
Maddy took the phone, put it on speaker, and tapped the arrow beside the oldest one, which had been sent yesterday at 3:12—just about the time everything had gone down at Pirouette.
“Um, hi, my name is Connor Sullivan. I’m a friend of your grandmother’s over in Seahaven. I was hoping you could give me a call as soon as possible if you would.”
Maddy frowned at the cryptic message. Her grandma lived alone at the beach. The same cottage where her family had once spent many an idyllic summer.
“I hope everything’s okay,” Holly said.
“Me too.”
She played the second message, sent a couple hours after the first. “This is Connor Sullivan again. Um, I really need to reach someone in the family, so please call as soon as you get this.”
Maddy’s heart sank at his urgent tone. What if something bad had happened to Gram? “This doesn’t sound good.”
“Call him.”
Before she did, Maddy played his most recent message, sent early this morning. Her heart squeezed in dread.
The story continues in Summer by the Tides by Denise Hunter.
About the Author
Photo by Neal Bruns
Denise Hunter is the internationally published bestselling author of more than thirty books, three of which have been adapted into original Hallmark Channel movies. She has won the Holt Medallion Award, the Reader’s Choice Award, the Carol Award, and the Foreword Book of the Year Award and is a RITA finalist. When Denise isn’t orchestrating love lives on the written page, she enjoys traveling with her family, drinking good coffee, and playing drums. Denise makes her home in Indiana, where she and her husband are currently enjoying an empty nest.
* * *
DeniseHunterBooks.com
Instagram: @deniseahunter
Facebook: @authordenisehunter
Twitter: @DeniseAHunter
Praise for Denise Hunter
“The Bennett siblings stole my heart in the first two books of the Bluebell Inn series. Autumn Skies is the perfect roundup to this series. The tension and attraction between Grace and Wyatt is done so well, and the mystery kept me wondering what was going to happen next. In Autumn Skies, Denise Hunter delivers another must read. Prepare to be swept away to the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains in a flurry of turning pages.”
—Nancy Naigle, USA TODAY bestselling author of Christmas Angels
“Carolina Breeze is filled with surprises, enchantment, and a wonderful depth of romance. Denise Hunter gets better with every novel she writes, and that trend has hit a high point with this wonderful story.”
—Hannah Alexander, author of The Wedding Kiss and the Healing Touch series
“A breeze of brilliance! Denise Hunter’s Carolina Breeze will blow you away with a masterful merge of mystery, chemistry, and memories restored in this lakeside love story of faith, family, and fortune.”
—Julie Lessman, award-winning author
“Carolina Breeze was a book I could not put down.”
—Cara Putman, bestselling author of Flight Risk
“Denise Hunter writes with a deep understanding of complex family dynamics in Summer by the Tides. A perfect blend of romance and women’s fiction.”
—Sherryl Woods, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“Denise Hunter once again proves she’s the queen of romantic drama. Summer by the Tides is both a perfect beach romance and a dramatic story of second chances. If you like Robyn Carr, you’ll love Denise Hunter.”
—Colleen Coble, USA TODAY bestselling author of One Little Lie
“I have never read a romance by Denise Hunter that didn’t sweep me away into a happily ever after. Treat yourself!”
—Robin Lee Hatcher, bestselling author of Cross My Heart for On Magnolia Lane
“Swoony, fun, and meaningful, [Honeysuckle Dreams] should come with a ‘grab your fan’ warning! Hunter’s skill at writing sizzling romance combines with two reader-favorite tropes to deliver a story that is both toe curling and heartwarming.”
—RT Book Reviews, 4 stars
“Denise Hunter’s newest novel, Sweetbriar Cottage, is a story to fall in love with. True-to-life characters, high stakes, and powerful chemistry blend to tell an emotional story of reconciliation.”
—Brenda Novak, New York Times bestselling author
“Sweetbriar Cottage is a wonderful story, full of emotional tension and evocative prose. You’ll feel involved in these characters’ lives and carried along by their story as tension ratchets up to a climactic and satisfying conclusion. Terrific read. I thoroughly enjoyed it.”
—Francine Rivers, New York Times bestselling author
“Hunter has a wonderful way of sweeping readers into a delightful romance without leaving behind the complications of true love and true life. Sweetbriar Cottage is Hunter at the top of her game—a rich, emotional romance that will leave readers yearning for more.”
—Katherine Reay, award-winning author of The Printed Letter Bookshop
“With her usual deft touch, snappy dialogue, and knack for romantic tension, inspirational romance veteran Hunter will continue to delight romance fans with this first Summer Harbor release.”
—Publishers Weekly for Falling Like Snowflakes
“Hunter is a master romance storyteller. Falling Like Snowflakes is charming and fun with a twist of mystery and intrigu
e. A story that’s sure to endure as a classic reader favorite.”
—Rachel Hauck, New York Times bestselling author of The Fifth Avenue Story Society
“Barefoot Summer is a satisfying tale of hope, healing, and a love that’s meant to be. Sail away with Denise Hunter’s well-drawn characters on a journey that is at once romantic and compelling.”
—Lisa Wingate, national bestselling author of Before We Were Yours
Also by Denise Hunter
The Bluebell Inn Novels
Lake Season
Carolina Breeze
Autumn Skies
The Blue Ridge Novels
Blue Ridge Sunrise
Honeysuckle Dreams
On Magnolia Lane
The Summer Harbor Novels
Falling Like Snowflakes
The Goodbye Bride
Just a Kiss
The Chapel Springs Romance Series
Barefoot Summer
A December Bride (novella)
Dancing with Fireflies
The Wishing Season
Married ’til Monday
The Big Sky Romance Series
A Cowboy’s Touch
The Accidental Bride
The Trouble with Cowboys
Nantucket Love Stories
Surrender Bay
The Convenient Groom
Seaside Letters
Driftwood Lane
Stand-Alone Novels
Summer by the Tides
Sweetbriar Cottage
Sweetwater Gap
Novellas included in Smitten, Secretly Smitten, and Smitten Book Club
Copyright
Autumn Skies
Copyright © 2020 Denise Hunter
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Autumn Skies: 3 (A Bluebell Inn Romance) Page 25
