For all of Whiskey Creek’s old-fashioned charm, the coffee shop felt current. It listed the menu on a chalkboard, boasted of selling only fair-trade coffee, used organic beans and offered chai and other options. Several people sat with laptops at small round tables, taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi.
“Now this feels like home.” Simon breathed deep, enjoying the comforting scent of fresh-ground coffee as the door swept shut behind them.
Gail didn’t respond. She was too busy searching the crowd.
She waved to a group sitting in one of two large booths. “There they are. Over in the corner. Looks like...” She angled her head to see them all. “Ted, Eve, Callie, Cheyenne, Riley and...oh, boy. Sophia.”
“What’s wrong with Sophia?” Simon asked.
She lowered her voice. “No one likes her.”
“Maybe no one will like me, either.”
“Don’t worry.” She patted his back. “This won’t be as painful as you’re expecting.”
“Why would I expect it to be painful? Meeting your family was such fun.”
She nudged him. “Stop with the sarcasm.”
Her friends quickly spotted her.
“Oh, my gosh! Gail’s home!”
“Where?”
“Look...and she’s brought Simon!”
“Here we go,” she murmured. “I hope your acting’s up to par.”
He wished he hadn’t left his sunglasses behind. He didn’t care if it was too dark inside the café to bother with them. The world he was living in since Gail had started this latest PR campaign felt so much more up close and in his face. “Hey, I’m a pro, remember?”
By that point, everyone in the coffee shop had turned to stare. But Simon was used to attracting attention. Pretending not to notice, he waited for Gail to order, then asked for an espresso. She hurried over to her friends while he paid, leaving him to approach them on his own, but she’d been right. Joining the group wasn’t nearly as awkward as he’d initially feared, once the suddenness of their marriage had been handled and they moved on to other topics.
Fortunately, these people weren’t as obvious in their disapproval as Gail’s brother and father had been. A few of them sent Simon sidelong glances, as if they weren’t sure what to make of his presence, but they smiled politely if he caught their eye and shifted their attention—to whoever was speaking or their coffee or fruit and yogurt.
As they chatted about this or that, Simon was more than happy to kick back and enjoy his espresso. He liked watching Gail, he realized, liked how animated and expressive she was, especially now that she was in her element. Of course, he also liked recalling the image of her standing in the bedroom this morning, wearing nothing but her pajama bottoms as she turned to face him—
“Ted’s an author,” Gail explained, cutting into his thoughts.
Simon had lost the thread of the conversation. Sitting up, he cleared his throat and attempted to pretend otherwise. “What kind of books does he write?”
“Thrillers. Already has two out.”
With that enthusiastic lead-in, Simon expected Ted to ask for the usual favor. Hundreds of authors sent their work to his production company, hoping to gain interest in a movie adaption. But to Simon’s relief, the conversation moved on to another guy, someone by the name of Kyle Houseman, who wasn’t there. Kyle was going through a nasty divorce. It soon became apparent that everyone blamed his wife.
Simon guessed he was the only one in the group who felt sorry for the maligned soon-to-be ex. He knew how being “the problem” felt. He also knew that a divorce was never as clear-cut as it appeared.
After the talk of Kyle’s divorce, a woman with black hair and a widow’s peak—Eve Something—spoke up. “What would you guys think if I started a new marketing campaign for the B and B focusing on those scary stories we used to pass around as kids?”
“The ones where we claimed the inn was haunted?” This was Sophia. Simon had noticed that every time she tried to contribute, everyone else immediately stiffened.
“Last I heard, you wanted to keep a lid on the history of the place for fear of scaring off patrons,” she said.
Eve shrugged in response but wouldn’t quite meet her gaze. “That’s true, but...times have changed. I need to try a more aggressive approach.”
All of these people were attractive, Simon thought. Sophia, with her wide blue eyes, brown hair and porcelain skin, was probably the prettiest, but he wasn’t as taken with her looks as he would’ve expected to be. He returned his attention to Eve of the widow’s peak. “You own A Room with a View?”
She blushed as if she was surprised he’d get involved in the conversation. “No. The other B and B—the Gold Nugget Inn. It’s not quite as nice or as prominently situated.”
“It is nice,” Gail chimed in. “But Simon hasn’t seen it.” She turned to him. “Eve’s parents bought it just after they were married and fixed it up, so it’s been in her family for years. It’s around the bend, heading out of town to the north. Cheyenne—” she motioned to her other friend “—helps run it. I’ll show it to you later.”
Riley entered the conversation. Gail had introduced him as her contractor friend, so Simon had made a special note of his name. “Do you think that story we used to tell is true? About the young daughter of the couple who built the Gold Nugget being murdered in the basement?”
“It is.” Cheyenne contributed this remark. She’d been listening quietly, seemed to hang on every word, but she came across as the type who typically kept her thoughts to herself. “When we first moved to town my mother dragged me and my sister into the cemetery and said if we didn’t take good care of her while she was sick, the same evil that got little Mary Hatfield would come after us.”
“That’s so out of line.” This came from Callie, the only member of the group who seemed unwilling to accept Simon. She’d frowned when they were introduced and bristled whenever he looked at her. “But knowing her, it doesn’t surprise me,” she added.
“You were in high school when you moved here,” Gail said to Cheyenne. “I hope you knew better than to believe her.”
Cheyenne’s somber gray eyes focused on Gail. “I absolutely believed her. There was no telling what she might do.”
“That was so unnecessary,” Ted put in.
“Exactly,” Eve agreed. “They would’ve taken care of her. Look at them now that the cancer is back.”
“She’s my mother,” Cheyenne said. “What else can I do? Anyway, I don’t want to talk about Anita. We were talking about the inn.”
“Tell them what you found at the library, Chey,” Eve prompted.
“You tell them,” she responded, but Gail joined Eve in prodding her.
“What’d you find?”
Cheyenne stirred the whipped cream into whatever drink she’d ordered—hot chocolate?—as she began to speak. “When Eve first mentioned the idea, I went down to the county library and researched the story. I found an old newspaper article dated August 1, 1898, that said the girl’s father came upon her strangled in the basement.”
Ted nodded. “That’s the same story I heard. They never figured out who did it.”
“I used to be so afraid of seeing Mary’s ghost,” Eve said.
“And you want to use that tragedy for marketing purposes?” Callie looked horrified. “Don’t you think that’s kind of...morbid?”
Eve shrugged. “It is but, like I said, I’ve got to do something.”
“That’ll be taking things in a new direction, all right,” Riley said with a laugh.
It was obvious that Eve didn’t appreciate his attitude.
“Will you change the name, too?” Sophia wanted to know. “All Hallows Inn would be chilling.”
Slumping in her seat, Eve played with a sugar packet. “I’m willing to do anything. The place needs updating and repairs, and I don’t have the money. I don’t want to lose it to the bank. So I’ll have to get creative. If I make the wear-and-tear part of the theme, I might be able to limp along for another year or two until I can get on my feet.”
“Makes sense to me.” Gail reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “When you’re ready, I’ll help you put together a press packet so we can get the word out.”
Eve smiled her thanks.
“I don’t know....” Riley wasn’t convinced. “Might be too gimmicky, Eve.”
“I disagree,” Cheyenne piped up. “I think we should do it.”
Everyone seemed surprised that she would argue with him.
“There’s so much interest in the supernatural,” she went on. “We should hire some good fortune-tellers and offer free tarot readings on check-in, really go with the theme.”
Eve turned her attention to Simon. “What do you think?”
Simon hadn’t expected to be singled out when he was the least likely to have an opinion. He searched his mind for some useful idea. “Well, if you want to go in a darker direction... I could come up with some interesting props from various films that might add an Alfred Hitchcock air to the place.”
She perked up. “That’s a great suggestion! But...won’t real movie props be expensive?”
“They don’t have to be,” he said. “I happen to know some people in the industry.” He heard a few chuckles at the understatement. “I’ll see what I can arrange.”
“That’s so nice.” Eve looked at Gail as if to say she liked him, and Gail smiled, but the atmosphere grew tense as soon as someone mentioned a guy named Matt.
“Have you seen him yet?” Ted asked Gail.
Everyone fell silent. Clearly, they’d all been dying to ask the same question.
Gail poured more cream into her coffee even though she didn’t usually take very much. “No, not yet. We just got in last night.”
“He’s been here a couple days already,” Sophia said. “I saw him at Just Like Mom’s last night.”
“How does he look?” someone else wondered.
Eve answered. “Better than ever.”
“What about his knee?” Gail asked.
“He’s wearing a brace, but he’s walking on it,” Ted told her.
Gail added even more cream to her coffee. “Will he ever get to play again?”
“Hard to say,” Riley replied. “No one knows.”
Simon’s gaze circled the group. Normally he would’ve let this go, as he had the talk about Kyle Houseman. But there was a definite undercurrent here, and it seemed to be swirling around Gail. “Matt is...”
Gail seemed eager to answer before anyone else could. “Just another friend.”
“He plays football for the Packers, when he’s not injured,” Eve said.
“He’s part of the group?” Simon asked, trying to clarify.
“Not really.” This came from Eve again. “I mean...he’s not one of the original members. We all graduated the same year. Matt’s three years older.”
“He’s a great guy.” When Callie said this as if he was the perfect contrast to Simon, Gail made a point of checking the time.
“Whoa, don’t some of you need to be at work?”
“Yeah, Chey and I are already late,” Eve agreed. “Jane’s there cooking breakfast, but she’ll need us to help serve.”
Everyone stood. As they cleared the table of plates and cups, Callie pulled Gail aside, but Simon could hear what she said.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Gail met Simon’s eyes over her friend’s head. “Nothing, why?”
“I can’t believe you married him. Already! Didn’t you think we’d want to know you were that serious before seeing it on TV?”
“I told you we were dating.”
“Dating’s a little different, Gail.”
“We didn’t plan it, Callie. We just...decided to do it. It happened very quickly.”
“I’m sure it did. Let’s hope you don’t end up brokenhearted and divorced just as quickly.” Callie whirled around to glare at Simon. “Nice of you to come and meet the family, even if it is too late for us to talk her out of ruining her life.”
“I didn’t realize we needed to get your approval,” he responded dryly.
Callie turned back to Gail and said something else that sounded harsh, but Simon missed it because Riley had approached him. “Hey, sorry about your injury.” He gestured at the bandage still protecting Simon’s stitches. “That sucks.”
“I certainly have a new appreciation for how often I use my right hand.” Simon glanced over to see if he could catch another snippet of the Callie/Gail exchange, but Callie had left. It was Sophia who was talking to Gail now.
“What do you two have planned for today?” Riley asked, maintaining a separate conversation with him.
“We’re hoping to meet up with someone named Kathy and take a look at some rental property.”
“You’re planning to stay here?” Riley spoke loudly enough that everyone still there turned toward them. “What about your acting career?”
Simon held up his injured hand. “I’m taking a couple months off.”
When he saw that he also had Gail’s attention, Riley directed his next question to her. “You’re leaving Big Hit in the hands of someone else?”
“I am. My assistant is going to be running the show for a bit. We were actually hoping to hire you to help Simon build us a house.”
“I’d be happy to do that,” he said. “You know my number. Give me a call.”
“Sounds like we’ll get to see more of you,” Sophia said to Simon as Riley moved toward the exit. “That’s great! I was just going to say I’d love to have the two of you over for dinner sometime, if you’re interested.”
Sophia’s enthusiasm created a stark contrast with Callie’s anger. Simon couldn’t help responding to it. “Sure. We’ll come to dinner. When?”
She seemed surprised and relieved at the same time, as if she hadn’t expected an acceptance. “Day after tomorrow? I mean, I don’t know if my husband will be home. Skip travels a lot on business. But Alexa will be there.”
“Alexa is...”
“My daughter.”
Dinner sounded fine to Simon. At least he’d met someone who was eager to offer him friendship. “Fine. We’ll see you then.”
Gail took his arm. “Actually, we don’t know our plans yet. Can we call you?”
Sophia’s smile briefly wobbled but she managed to keep it in place. “Of course.”
The other woman’s disappointment nearly made Gail relent. She paused as if she was tempted, then seemed to think better of it. “Ready to go?” she asked, turning to him instead.
“Whenever you are.” They said goodbye to those who remained. Then Simon led Gail from the shop and out into a sunny fall day. While they were within earshot of the others, they talked about the weather, their search for a rental, how nice her friends were.
But as soon as they got in the car he said, “Who’s Matt?”