by Lee Hollis
“First of all, Gemma, this is not a date.”
Maybe if she said it enough times she’d actually believe it.
“I’m working for Wade,” Hayley said. “We’re just meeting to discuss menus. Even if he did know, Lex couldn’t possibly object.”
“Then why are you so dressed up?”
Hayley brushed some dog hair off the front of her sweater. “This is not dressed up.”
“For you it is.”
Hayley flashed her an annoyed look.
“Now listen to me, Gemma. I don’t want you breathing a word about this dinner to anyone, do you hear me? I don’t want it spreading all over town. There’s enough gossip around here as it is.”
Gemma gave her one of those panicked looks that said, I’m going to reassure you, but I am totally lying. “Okay.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.” Another panicked look.
“Gemma . . .”
“Okay, I may have posted something on Facebook.”
“What? What did you post?”
“I might have said something along the lines of... OMG! My mother is going out on a date with Wade Springer tonight.”
“Gemma, you didn’t!”
“Well, you are!”
“It’s not a date.”
“Don’t worry. No one will read it.”
“You have seven thousand Facebook friends and there are only five thousand year-round residents in Bar Harbor!”
“Don’t hate me because I’m popular.”
“Did you mention where we were having dinner?”
“Of course not.”
“Good.”
“But you might want to go talk to Dustin. Soon.”
“Why?”
“He’s downstairs tweeting and you know what a big mouth he’s got.”
Hayley flew out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
Too late.
Dustin had already sent out seventeen tweets about his mother’s big date with Wade Springer, even discussing the specials at Town Hill Bistro where they were planning to dine.
Hayley immediately called Wade and suggested they not go to dinner since she didn’t want gawkers interrupting them. Instead, she suggested a drink at the Balance Rock Inn, a very high-end bed and breakfast set back from the rocky shores of the Atlantic Ocean, where guests could enjoy a cockail outside and watch the cruise ships in the harbor set out for their next destinations.
There was also an outdoor gazebo with cushioned chairs and love seats in which to enjoy a glass of wine with your significant other, but that was way too romantic, so there was no way Hayley was going to suggest they sit there.
Too late.
When Hayley arrived at the Balance Rock Inn, Wade was waiting for her in the gazebo. She hoped and prayed he wasn’t thinking she was trying to make more out of this than it was.
A simple business meeting.
Wade looked gorgeous in his red print open shirt and white cowboy hat and tight jeans and cowboy boots. He had a simple gold neck chain that sparkled in the moonlight.
“I took the liberty of ordering us some wine,” Wade said as he took Hayley’s hand and led her over to one of the love seats. “I’m more of a beer kind of guy, but I knew I was meeting a lady, so I went for the Pinot Noir.”
“Thank you,” Hayley said nervously.
Wade poured them each a glass and handed her one. They clinked glasses. “Here’s to your fried chicken. May I not gain too much weight while I’m here in Bar Harbor.”
Hayley sat there sipping her wine, feeling completely out of her element. But Wade was perfectly at ease, talking about how he hiked the Precipice Trail today, which climbs a thousand feet up the east face of Champlain Mountain in the park. He said how strenuous it was, but how much he loved it and couldn’t wait to conquer more trails while he was in town. He couldn’t believe how beautiful Acadia National Park was, a little jewel so far removed from the hustle and bustle of the major cities. He was an outdoorsman, happiest when pushing his physical limits.
God, Wade was sexy.
Hayley took another sip of wine. “Did you get the menus I e-mailed you? I want to know about any allergies you might have, or if there is something you really don’t like, although I’m pretty familiar with your eating habits, having read about you all these years.”
“I’m sure I’m going to love everything you cook for me, Hayley,” Wade said with a wink.
Was that wink a flirtatious gesture?
Hayley took another sip of her wine.
Great. She was calming her nerves with lots of alcohol.
Always a sound plan of attack.
Suddenly, her eye caught something.
There was a figure crouched down behind some bushes a few feet away, watching them. He was small and wiry, the size of a kid, maybe eleven or twelve years old.
Hayley squinted to get a better look, and then there was a blinding flash that surprised both her and Wade, followed by a rustling in the bushes as the kid ran off in the dark.
Hayley shrugged. “I guess a fan wanted a photo for his scrapbook.”
“Happens all the time,” Wade said, smiling, and then he refilled their glasses with more wine.
Hayley wasn’t exactly tipsy when she and Wade left the Balance Rock Inn, but she was feeling warm and fuzzy inside, and fought every urge to rest her head on Wade’s broad shoulders.
If she could reach one.
Wade was tall.
Maybe on her tippy toes.
Wade insisted on walking Hayley home, but Hayley laughed and assured him the town was very safe and her house was just a few blocks away, and it was such a beautiful night.
He gave her a sweet peck on the cheek that nearly caused her to lose her balance.
Before he could press the matter of escorting her home any further, she left.
As she walked home, Hayley felt confident she could prepare at least three meals a day that would make Wade happy and she was getting more excited about the idea of being Wade Springer’s personal chef.
When Hayley got home, she noticed Liddy’s Mercedes parked in the driveway.
The house was lit up like a Christmas tree, unlike most of the other homes on quiet residential Glen Mary Road.
Hayley shook her head, smiling to herself. Liddy and the kids were probably on pins and needles waiting to hear every detail of her night with Wade. She was tired, but would give them a few highlights before she turned in for the night.
But when Hayley walked in the back door and through the kitchen there was no welcoming party to greet her. She heard the sound of rummaging down the hall and followed it to the living room, where she stopped and gasped.
The room had been turned upside down. The shelves were emptied, books and framed photos piled high on the floor. The couch and chairs were moved, the dining room table upended.
“What is going on here?” Hayley said as she spotted Liddy on her hands and knees going through a basket of magazines.
Liddy’s face was pale and gaunt. Like she hadn’t slept in days. She wasn’t even wearing one of her signature Donna Karan ensembles. She was in a sweatshirt and jeans and flip-flops.
Liddy in flip-flops?
This had to be something bad.
Real bad.
“Where are the kids?” Hayley asked.
“Upstairs,” Liddy said. “They’re searching the bathroom. I think I went up there to use it the last time I was here, but I’m not sure.”
Liddy looked lost and broken.
“My God, Liddy, what’s happened?”
“My diamond earrings? The pair I bought at Tiffany’s on my last trip to New York and spent a fortune on when I knew I shouldn’t? But then I said to myself, ‘Liddy, you deserve this!’ and I called you from the counter so you could talk me out of it, but I really wanted you to tell me to go for it and you didn’t disappoint. . .”
“Yes, Liddy, I remember. What about them? Did you lose one?”
Liddy n
odded and then burst into tears.
Hayley rushed forward and embraced her.
Not the end of the world. At least, in Hayley’s mind. She was raising two kids as a single mother and just wanted to pay her heating bill for the winter. But Liddy was an entirely different creature altogether. And, to her, this was the end of the world. So as her closest friend, Hayley needed to be there for her.
“Don’t worry, honey, we’ll find it.”
She started to pull out of the hug, but Liddy clutched the sleeve of her sweater tightly.
“I’ve searched everywhere. The kids are still looking upstairs. This is the last place I could’ve lost it. And we’ve turned this whole house upside down and . . . nothing.”
“You guys find anything up there?” Hayley called, finally freeing herself from Liddy’s grasp and walking over to the foot of the stairs.
“Nope,” Dustin said before she heard him walk back into his room and turn his attention to his PlayStation.
“Sorry,” Gemma said before her cell phone chirped and she, too, abandoned the search.
“I know I’m making too big a deal out of this, especially with all the starving children in the world, but I loved those earrings, Hayley, and if I wear just one, I’ll look like a really well-off gypsy.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll find it.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t even ask you about your big date. How was it?”
“Fine. Nothing special,” Hayley said before adding, “And it wasn’t a date.”
Hayley decided not to go on and on about the deliciously charming and gorgeous Wade Springer, and how the night could not have gone more perfectly. There was no reason to rub salt in the wound. Her friend was hurting.
So, instead, she pushed her ratty stained couch to the other side of the room and joined in on the search for her best friend’s missing diamond earring without missing a beat.
That’s what friends are for.
Chapter 6
Hayley couldn’t breathe as she stood in front of the magazine and newspaper rack at the Big Apple convenience store where she picked up her coffee before work every morning.
She wasn’t near a mirror, but she knew her face was beet red.
Her heart was pounding.
She stared at the photo on the front page of the Bar Harbor Herald, the Island Times’ rival paper. It was a picture of Hayley and Wade Springer canoodling in the gazebo at the Balance Rock Inn, along with a caption, “The Way to a Man’s Heart Is Through His Stomach.”
The article went on to say that Hayley was being hired to be the official chef for Wade while he was staying in Bar Harbor, and that the big question now was, Is it really business, or pleasure?
The figure in the bushes.
The flash.
It was a photographer.
And the Herald probably bought the picture so they could trump up some silly story about a romance brewing between a world famous singer and a simple-minded local girl. She always knew the Herald was just a shameless tabloid dressed up like a quirky small-town paper.
At least her own paper, the Times, wouldn’t stoop this low.
Right in the next rack was the Island Times.
The same photo was on the front page.
Their caption said, “What’s Really Cooking Between Wade Springer and Our Very Own Food and Cocktails Columnist?”
No.
Sal would never print something like this without warning her first.
But, then again, she had left work early the previous day, before the paper was put to bed and she had turned her cell off because she didn’t want any calls interrupting her meeting with Wade.
She forgot to turn it back on.
Hayley fished her phone out of her coat pocket and fired it up.
Sure enough, there were four messages.
All from Sal.
Message #1:
“Hey, Hayley, I’m at the office late. We’re about to go to press and I got this kid Darrell Rodick here in the office with a photo of you and Wade and I just wanted to get your side of the story to see if there’s something here. Call me back.”
Darrell Rodick was a ruthlessly ambitious fifth-grader and amateur photographer who fancied himself the town’s paparazzi. The only trouble was, very rarely did celebrities frequent Bar Harbor, and, when they did, it was in the summer. He once ambushed a pretty girl who had appeared once on The Vampire Diaries while she was biking around Eagle Lake.
The kid was a big pain.
And Hayley was about to call his parents and tell them so.
Message #2:
“Uh, Hayley, please call me back. I’m not sure what to do here. We’re nearing deadline. My wife just saw the Rodick kid heading over to the Herald offices, and you know how I don’t like to be scooped.”
Hayley knew what was coming next.
Message #3:
“Hayley, I need to decide what to do soon and you’re off the grid for some reason so I’m going to make an executive decision and print the photo. I know you’re not going to like this, but we just interviewed the bartender at the Balance Rock Inn and he confirmed you two looked like you were on a date.”
The bartender?
Seriously?
Message #4:
“Okay, Hayley, it’s done. Sorry about this, but I had to go with my gut. I didn’t want the Herald getting the jump on us. Maybe you can do an exclusive interview with us. Just to clarify things in case we got something wrong.”
Hayley was fuming. Her face got hotter.
Yes, she was ticked off at that bratty shutterbug Darrell Rodick for spying on her. Yes, she was furious with Sal for turning the Times into a small-town version of Star magazine. But, most of all, she was really pissed at the unflattering photo of herself.
Wade, of course, looked stunning and natural as always, like he was accepting a Country Music Award.
But she just wasn’t photogenic. Her head was thrown back and her mouth was open, laughing, and it looked like she had some kind of weird underbite. She looked just like her dog, Leroy. They do say dogs tend to resemble their owners.
Hayley rushed out of the Big Apple, hopped in her car, and drove straight to the office. When she blew through the front door, Sal was nowhere to be seen. She stormed into the back bullpen, but his office door was closed and locked.
“So is it true?” a man’s voice said from behind, startling her.
Hayley spun around.
It was Bruce.
He dangled a copy of the Times in front of him.
“Of course it’s not true. I should sue for libel. Where the hell is Sal?”
“Don’t know. My guess is he’s hiding from you,” Bruce said, studying the photo on the front page. “Sure looks to me like something’s going on between you two.”
“We’re not going to go through this again, Bruce,” Hayley said, remembering how Bruce reacted when she first began dating Lex. She knew he had the hots for her and they had known each other a long time, but there was no way she would ever go there. Especially with a coworker.
“Have you talked to Wade? Has he seen the papers?”
Hayley’s heart nearly stopped.
She hadn’t thought of Wade. What must he be thinking? Would he suspect that Hayley had ulterior motives for going to work for him? Wade knew she was a columnist at the paper. Would he think she had pursued the job as his personal chef so she could pump him for intimate details about his personal life? Or maybe he would suspect she was some kind of pathetic fame-whore trying to make herself part of the story.
Hayley couldn’t bear the thought of her beloved Wade making those judgments about her.
Bruce folded the paper in his hand. “So?”
“No, I haven’t talked to Wade. Why waste his time with this garbage?”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Bruce said, following Hayley back out to the front office, where she sat down at her desk and turned on her computer, ready to begin the day’s work.
“It makes me
sick to my stomach that this is our front-page story when there is a serious crime spree going on in this town,” Bruce said.
Hayley clicked on her e-mail and was relieved she hadn’t yet received one from Wade’s people, terminating her.
Maybe they hadn’t seen the papers yet.
“Did you know this mysterious robber broke into another home yesterday when the residents were at work? In broad daylight. He’s getting more brazen every day,” Bruce said.
Hayley tried ignoring him.
“I do have a suspect, though,” Bruce said, trying to stir Hayley’s interest.
Hayley clicked on her file of recipes and searched for the perfect one for her next column, but curiosity got the best of her and she swiveled around in her office chair to face Bruce.
“Who?” Hayley asked.
“That punk ass, Jesse DeSoto,” Bruce spit out.
Jesse DeSoto was an obvious choice. A nineteen-year-old high school dropout hellion who got a perverse joy out of picking on younger kids. Hayley despised him because when Dustin was in fifth grade, he became a target. Hayley had noticed Dustin’s mood changing at home, but her son refused to admit he was getting chased home from school and pushed around by Jesse.
Until Gemma witnessed one particularly nasty episode where Jesse had Dustin flat on his stomach and was shoving his face into a snowbank. Gemma had raced to his rescue, and, luckily, Jesse had always thought Gemma was cute, so when she ordered him to stop bothering her brother, Jesse immediately let Dustin go with the promise of never touching him again.
And he had kept his word. Hayley was going to call Jesse’s mother to complain, but Dustin begged her not to and she finally let the whole matter go. Still, she was no fan of Jesse’s, and Bruce was probably right.
“What evidence do you have?” Hayley asked.
“Nothing concrete yet. But it’s only a matter of time. I’m going to tail him and catch him in the act and blow this whole story wide open.”
“Good for you,” Hayley said, humoring him.
“And then maybe we can shove all this ridiculous coverage of some subpar singing cowboy off the front page.”
