by Lily Marie
The Pact
A Blue Moon Bay Romance Prequel
Lily Marie
Copyright, 2016
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except for use in any review. This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, locales, and events are either pure invention or used fictitiously, and all incidents come from the author’s imagination alone.
Cover Design by AM Design Studio.
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The Pact
One
Two
Three
Four
Who is Lily Marie?
One
This is not happening.
Simone Channing stood at the altar of the small, appealing church, and stared at the doorway her fiancé, Scott McGraw, had just sprinted through like the devil was after him.
This can’t be happening.
Belle Renoux, her maid of honor and best friend, moved to her side. “Simone? Did he say anything?”
Simone shook her head, afraid that if she opened her mouth she’d start screaming—and never stop. Belle eased the bouquet out of her trembling hands. Pink rose petals already littered the marble floor.
“I’m going after him.”
“No,” Simone whispered. To her surprise, she sounded almost—normal. “Give him a minute, Belle. Please.”
I didn’t talk him into this wedding. It was our decision, together. God—what if he doesn’t come back?
The rest of her body started trembling.
Belle wrapped one arm around her waist. Simone’s other friend, Roxy Fine, and her bridesmaid, moved between her and the curious, muttering attendees. Roxy, with her vibrant hair—it was a burgundy red for the wedding—turned to the crowd, crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow.
That quieted most of them. Simone wished she had Roxy’s talent.
Belle squeezed her waist. “Do you want me to check on him, Simone? I won’t let Roxy near him.” She smiled, winking at Simone. “Tact is not in her vocabulary. Though I’d like to be a fly on the wall when Scott tries to justify—sorry. Running off at the mouth again.”
“It’s what makes you the ultimate ad exec.” Roxy stood behind Simone, her height a perfect barricade between Simone’s short self and the rest of the church. She laid her hand on Simone’s shoulder. “Just tell us what you want to do, and we’re there.”
Simone shook her head, and looked at the doorway again. Scott would be coming back any second, with his usual apology.
“Just a little case of cold feet,” he’d say, and give her the lopsided smile that was starting to annoy her.
This time his apology wouldn’t be enough. This time, he’d have to do a whole lot of groveling before she—
A figure appeared in the doorway. Her heart skipped, and tears stung her eyes when she saw it wasn’t Scott. Instead, his best man, Ty, walked over to the group of women.
“Scott asked me to give you this.” He held out a folded piece of paper. Belle took the note when Simone’s arm refused to move. “I’m so sorry. Scott really can be an ass.”
Ty escaped down the aisle, running by the time he hit the back of the church.
“Simone.” Belle held out the note. “Did you want me to read it, honey? Or are you okay to do it?” Some of her Louisiana drawl wrapped around her voice. That only happened when she was worried, or angry.
It snapped Simone out of her stupor. She took the note, closing her eyes for a second before she unfolded it. Scott’s childish scrawl filled the page, his note only five words.
Five words that shattered her.
Sorry, babe. Can’t do it.
Roxy snatched the note out of her numb fingers and scanned it. “That son of a—ˮ
“Roxy.” Belle shook her head. “Church.”
Simone pictured Roxy rolling her eyes, but she didn’t say anything else. At least, Simone didn’t think so. Everything around her started to look blurry, her head buzzing.
“Simone? Simone!”
Belle’s shout was the last thing she heard as she headed for the rose strewn floor.
Two
“I say we hunt him down, tie him to a table, and cut off any protruding bits.” Roxy smiled at Simone over her mimosa, her hazel green eyes gleaming, and took a sip.
Belle set down her fork. “There’s no need for violence, Roxy.”
“I think there is. I’m feeling especially violent—against men in general, and Scott McGraw in particular.” She flipped her hair over one shoulder—deep, sunset red today—and leaned over the table. “You dodged a bullet with him, Simone. He showed the kind of man he really is. You’re lucky he came out of his ‘I’m a good man’ closet before you said I do.”
She leaned back in her chair, her point made. Simone let out a sigh, and glanced around at their favorite Sunday brunch restaurant. It looked out over San Francisco Bay, and the Golden Gate Bridge.
“I can’t stay here,” she whispered. Every time she turned around, she ran into another reminder of Scott.
Belle took her hand. “We can go, if you need—ˮ
“No.” Simone squeezed her hand, and eased out of the gentle grip. “I can’t stay in San Francisco. All I see is Scott. Half my clients know him, and I can’t face the questions, or the looks, or the pity. Especially not the pity. I’ve done quite a bit of thinking this last week.” She took a deep breath, and looked at her friends. “I’m leaving San Francisco.”
Roxy jumped to her feet. “You can’t let the bastard win—”
“Sit down, Roxy,” Belle said. She shook her head, and looked at Simone. “Where will you go?”
Simone clutched her hands in her lap, out of sight. She didn’t want them to see just how nervous she was about this decision. It felt right; hell, it felt like the first good decision she’d made since she met Scott. But what she had in mind still terrified her.
What she was about to propose terrified her more.
She looked at each of her friends, the two women who had become her support system, a shoulder to cry on, and the best people she knew.
They couldn’t have been more different.
Belle, with her ready smile, and the wild brown curls she always complained about; curls that Simone secretly envied. Belle had the biggest heart, and the most sensible mind. Her organizing skills were scary good, and the way she could create an appealing, catchy ad in almost no time had left Simone speechless more than once.
And Roxy—heaven help her, Simone just plain adored Roxy. She looked like one of the models she worked with, swore like a sailor, and could cut down the most overblown ego with a few words. But she was fiercely loyal, kept her promises, and always had Simone’s back, no matter how crazy the idea.
The idea Simone was about to share certainly qualified.
“Simone.” Roxy set her mimosa on the table and leaned forward. “Stop stalling and spit it out.”
She looked at her friends, her heart pounding. “I want you both to come with me.”
~
While the other women sat in shocked silence, Simone calmly paid the bill, and gathered up the to-go containers. Finally, Belle recovered enough to respond.
“Where are you going?”
“A town on the coast, in Southern California. A place where no one knows me, and I can start fresh. It’s called Blue Moon Bay.”
“I’ve been there,” Belle said, studying Simone. “It was charming, and—quaint.”
“You mean backward,” Roxy said.
Belle glared
at Roxy. “I like quaint.”
“You would. I’d rather slit my wrists than ever live in quaint.” She stood, and stomped toward the front of the restaurant.
Simone opened her mouth to say something—apologize, take her idea back—but Belle beat her to it.
“I flew down to meet a client who has a summer house there. She refused to come up to the city, since it was her vacation, so I went to her. I understand why you’re drawn to it, Simone, but are you sure? You’ve been up here for years, and there won’t be all the conveniences you’re used to.”
“I spent the last few days there.” Simone smiled at Belle’s surprise. “I know—I told you I was hibernating, and not to come over. I was hibernating, just somewhere else. It felt comfortable, and welcoming. I do like living in the city, but I also feel like just another body here.” She shrugged, hoping such a stylish, cultured woman would understand, even if she didn’t agree. “I grew up in a small town, and I miss the sense of belonging. I miss knowing who my neighbor is, and waving to people on the street.”
“And you think you can get it in this Blue Moon place?”
Simone bit back a smile. “Blue Moon Bay. Yes, I do. I need to leave, and I really want my friends with me. I’ll understand if you say no, but I had to take a chance and ask.” She stood walked across the restaurant, so she didn’t have to hear Belle say no in a public place.
She’d rather grieve the future loss of her friends in private.
~
Simone spent the next two weeks finishing open jobs, making arrangements in Blue Moon Bay, and packing up her small apartment.
She kept herself busy, so she wouldn’t dwell on the silence from her friends.
“They’re upset, you know that,” she muttered. “You should have predicted that reaction.” She stared at the plate in her hand. “Who in their right mind leaves a great job, an incredible city, for a town they’ve never heard of?”
She sighed, wrapped the plate in the expensive paper she bought from the moving company, and laid it on the pile of plates already in the box.
The door buzzer made her jump.
She headed over to the intercom and pressed the button. “Yes?”
“Open the door, Simone. It’s freezing out here.”
“Roxy?”
“No, it’s Santa Claus. Buzz us in.”
“Us?”
Belle’s voice interrupted whatever snipe Roxy was about to make. “We’re both here, Simone. We want to talk about your proposal.”
“I—you—”
“Open the door, honey.”
Simone pushed the button to unlock the lobby door, then opened her door and ran over to the staircase. She would have kept going, but she only had socks on, and the concrete stairs would suck the warmth right out of her. It was one part of this building she would definitely not miss.
Her friends’ voices echoed up the stairwell—another disadvantage of the concrete. By the time Roxy appeared, huddled in her favorite purple velvet coat, Simone had composed herself, and was braced for all the arguments and reasons they would most likely have for her to stay.
It was too late for that; she had already sublet her apartment, and the couple moving in would take over the lease when it came up for renewal. Plus, during her last visit to Blue Moon Bay, she had signed an agreement on the cutest house. It faced the bay, and had an option to buy in six months if she wanted to stay.
She stepped aside and let her friends walk into her messy apartment. At least the sofa was clear. That had been her goal every day—keep stuff from piling on the sofa. It was a convenient place to dump things, since it took up most of the small living area. Instead of dumping, she packed. The stack of boxes lining the wall next to her door was her reward.
Roxy looked around as she slipped out of her coat. “You’ve been busy.”
“I have to be out by the end of the month.”
She watched Belle lower herself to the sofa. “You’re really serious about this.”
“I told you, I can’t stay. I meant it.” She looked at each woman in turn, not surprised by their disbelief. Three weeks ago, she didn’t believe she could do this. “I’ve got coffee on. I’ll fix a tray.”
By the time she poured a mug for each of them, added sugar and creamer to the tray, and a plate of cookies from the baker down the street, they had settled in. She set the tray on the clean end of the coffee table and sat in the armchair.
After they all had their coffee, Belle cleared her throat. “Now that we can see you’re serious—not that we didn’t think you were, Simone.” She waved at the mess. “I just didn’t expect it to happen this fast. Anyway, we got together and talked, and—”
“Stop candy coating, Belle,” Roxy said. “We have questions, and we want answers before we can even think about thinking about this craziness.” She glared at Belle, and Simone guessed that Roxy was the one who needed answers. “Question one—what are we going to do to make a living in this nowhere—” She grunted when Belle elbowed her. “Quaint little town?”
“I thought we could open a business together.”
“Okay.” Roxy lifted one eyebrow. Anyone who didn’t know her would be backing across the room. “What kind of business?”
“When I was exploring, I noticed that there is a serious lack of fashionable clothing stores.” Simone twisted her hands together; she had started her own business, but personal organizing for busy executives was a far cry from opening a retail business. “Most of them sold sports gear, or really casual clothes.”
“And?” Roxy crossed her arms. “What makes you think another retail store would fly?”
Simone smiled, and threw out the one word she knew would snag them. “Tourists.”
Roxy lost her sarcastic demeanor and sat forward. “Seasonal, or year round?”
“According to the tourist office—which was so busy I could barely squeeze in through the door—they get a good influx throughout the year. Her words. Since I was there in what would be considered the end of the season, I’m going to believe her.”
Her friends glanced at each other. Roxy looked less skeptical now, with new information on the table. Belle pulled a notebook out of her purse, and opened it to a page filled with columns of numbers.
“I did some research of my own, and my conclusions are the reason we’re even thinking about this.”
“Okay.” Simone wanted to be hopeful, but she knew these women too well.
They needed hard facts, and a good chance of success, before they committed to anything. Uprooting their lives and moving to a new town would be a huge risk—and Simone knew she couldn’t promise success. It was up to all of them to create it.
Belle pulled her out of her thoughts. “Can I ask you a question, Simone? Why did you pick this particular town?”
“By chance.” She sighed, knowing they wouldn’t understand. “I had to get out of here after what happened, so I got in the car and started driving. I was halfway to San Diego before I realized it. I decided to keep going, and a sign on the side of the freeway caught my attention. It was for Blue Moon Bay, and it said ‘Come home to the other Bay.’ It made me smile, for the first time since the wedding—and I figured that if the sign could make me smile, then maybe the town would be worth visiting. I was right.”
How could she explain it to these city born and bred women? Being surrounded by the older, weather-worn buildings, the friendly locals, and the cool, salt-tinged air of the small bay had started to heal the wound on her heart.
More than anything, she wanted her best friends to share this with her. But not if they had even a single doubt.
Belle took a sip of her coffee, and turned the page in her notebook. “I want to walk around town before I make a decision. I didn’t see much the last time I was there—except part of the bay, and the obnoxious brother of my client. But I have to admit, the idea is appealing.”
“What?” Roxy stared at her. “We came here to talk her out of—talk about it. I did not come here
to throw away my perfectly content life.”
“Content.” Belle lifted her eyebrows. “Sounds exciting, Roxy. How is the freelance gig working out for you?”
“Shut up, Belle.”
“So, not good.”
Simone couldn’t help herself—she burst out laughing. Her friends couldn’t have been more extreme in personality, but somehow, their friendship worked. Belle had stopped being insulted by Roxy’s snipes long ago, and Roxy just rolled her eyes when she disagreed with Belle.
After giving Belle one of those eye rolls, Roxy stood, pacing around the small, messy apartment.
“I don’t want you to leave, Simone, but I can’t—God help me—I can’t cloister myself in Lower Podunk.”
Belle crossed her arms. “Roxy—”
“It’s okay,” Simone said. “I get that small town living isn’t for everyone. But it’s for me. I know absolutely now, after living in the city for a few years. I love you both, but I’m going. With or without you.”
“Fine.” Roxy headed for the front door.
Simone’s heart skipped, but she let her friend go.
Belle wasn’t so generous.
“Go ahead, Roxanne Feinberg. Run away.”
Roxy froze, her hand inches from the doorknob. “Going to play dirty, Belle? I can do that.” She spun, stalking toward Belle as she spoke. “Annabelle Joanna Mae Renoux, Miss Daisy Queen of Nowhere, Louisiana. Tell me why I should even think about throwing my life away and moving to Lower Podunk.”
“To support a friend.” Belle leaned back, her blue eyes narrowed as she met Roxy’s furious gaze. Anyone else would have slowly backed away, but Belle had never been intimidated by Roxy’s temper. “To have a chance to create a new life.” She let out a sigh. “It appeals to me, more than I thought it would. Imagine, Roxy, being in charge of our lives, our own boss, instead of living at the whim of other people.”
“I—how do you do that?” She glared at Belle. “How do you put these impossible dreams in my head, let me think I can have them?”
“This time, we can. All we have to do is—”
“Move to a backwater town, throw every penny we have into a business that has a better chance of failing than succeeding, and live on a wing and a prayer.” Halfway through Roxy’s speech, Simone clapped one hand over her mouth, fighting her laughter. “Have I about covered it? Stop snickering, both of you.”
