Chapter 5

“Welcome to the Front Street Boutique,” called out a young woman with a chic blond bob and a poppy-colored sweater set as soon as Cameron stepped inside the store, the familiar chime of the small hammered dulcimer ringing as the door closed behind her.

Instinctively, Cameron took a deep breath, reveling in the smells of antique wood, fine fabric, and lavender. In addition to furniture and upscale home accessories, her elegant shop sold well-chosen women’s clothing and objets d’art, all of which she’d selected herself. She prided herself on her good eye and sense of style. Though she kept up with the more modern trends, she knew what her clients wanted and she catered to them accordingly. Business was good, so she must be doing something right. “Hi, Anna,” she greeted her manager, noting the three customers milling around. “How’s everything going?”

“Just fine, Cameron. Oh,” she said, eyeing one customer—a very stylishly dressed middle-aged woman. “Please excuse me.” Anna had anticipated her client’s needs well. Just as the woman turned to look for someone to help her, Anna stepped into her line of sight. “May I answer any questions?” Anna asked, her gentle smile lighting up her face.

“Yes,” the woman responded. “I love this bench.” She pointed to the five-foot-long wooden bench on which a myriad of beautifully colored cashmere shawls were neatly stacked. “Is it for sale?”

“Yes, ma’am. The bench is a nineteenth-century reproduction of a seventeenth-century English farm bench. It’s an antique, and is in very good shape. It would be perfect for a mudroom or an entranceway.”

The woman nodded. “I’d pictured it in our foyer. How much is it?”

“I believe we’re offering it for four thousand.”

“So much for a reproduction!” The woman sounded dismayed.

“An antique reproduction,” Anna gently reminded her. “But as a first-time customer, I can offer you a discount of ten percent.” Anna glanced over at Cameron, who nodded her approval. The woman seemed to consider the offer as she examined the piece more closely. Anna instinctively knew when to back off. “Please take your time, ma’am. I’ll be over here when you’ve made a decision.”

“Well managed,” Cameron whispered after she’d joined Anna behind the register. “You’re doing beautifully here.”

“I’m surprised there’s so much activity today,” Anna quietly responded.

Star Harbor was well off the beaten path, but tourism was up. Many people were discovering the little town and deciding to stay. “I think we’ll be seeing a lot more people looking to decorate new homes,” she predicted.

Anna got busy with another customer, so Cameron headed to the back, where she had a small office and an even smaller workshop she used to repair antiques or examine new acquisitions. She was happy to share the office with Anna, but the workshop was solely Cameron’s domain.

A large nineteenth-century architect’s desk took up much of the space in the office. The desk had been a gift from her Uncle Nigel—her mother’s brother—when Cameron had first opened her Newbury Street boutique. It had been both a vote of confidence in Cameron and a poke in the eye to Clarissa. The desk had served her well in Boston, so when she opened the Front Street Boutique, she thought it was just the thing to accompany her to Star Harbor.

When she’d gotten settled, she pulled out her laptop, logged into the store’s wireless network, and pulled up the documents Anna had sent to her. Slowly, methodically, she made a list of everything they needed to accomplish over the next few days. By the time Anna retreated to the back for her half-hour lunch break, Cameron had compiled a comprehensive to-do list for the two of them.

“She took it,” Anna said, sounding triumphant.

“The bench? Great!” Cameron responded.

“And you were right. She just bought a house in Falmouth.” Anna placed her brown-bag lunch on the desk, pulled up a chair, and sat down. “Just so you know, I got the inventory software figured out,” she said. “It didn’t take too long, mostly because the Boston store concluded its own run a few days ago. I called Joan and she talked me through a few of the more squirrely points.” Anna unwrapped her sandwich and took a large bite.

“Joan is great, isn’t she?” Cameron said with a smile. Joan Elgar managed her Newbury Street boutique and was just as enthusiastic about her job as Anna.

Anna swallowed before speaking. “Yes. She was really sweet about helping. I could tell that taking inventory was pretty intense.”

“It was,” Cameron smiled. “But we dealt with it well there, just like we’ll deal with it here. By the way, that sandwich smells delicious. I have to go grab some lunch before it gets too late.”

“Are you going to the LMK?” Anna asked, referring to the restaurant-bakery that Lexie Meyers owned and ran. Cameron had become good friends with Lexie after being introduced by their mutual friend, Julie Kensington, the town doctor.

“I can’t be in Star Harbor without heading over to the Kitchen,” Cameron said. “Besides, lunch there is always quick for me. And I haven’t even been back to my cottage yet. Not that I have food there anyway,” she sighed.

In the last three months, she’d been back and forth between Boston and Star Harbor at least once a week, sometimes not even staying in Star Harbor for more than twenty-four hours at a time. Her travel schedule was grating on her. Her clothes, toiletries, and personal effects were scattered, and she’d been eating out almost every meal. She looked forward to actually spending some time in the little town, especially during the early summer season, when things hadn’t yet gotten too hectic.

Anna waved at the open door. “You should go. I’m almost finished eating.”

Cameron held up her hands in supplication. “All right. I’ll be back soon.”

The LMK was located only a block and a half away from her office in the historic downtown area, with its cobblestoned streets and old-fashioned gas lamps. Although the sky was overcast, the little town had never looked more beautiful. Centuries-old painted brick and wood storefronts flanked Front Street, little window boxes full of flowers lining the way. American flags flew from the second story of almost every building, proclaiming the town’s history and pride. It was unbelievably good to be back in Star Harbor. A light wind blew from the harbor, bringing with it the aroma of sea and salt and rain. Cameron took in a deep, cleansing breath. Every time she returned to the town it felt like she was coming home.

She was greeted at the door by Kiki, one of the LMK’s regular servers, who had pretty brown eyes and honey-blond hair. “Hi, Cameron. Nice to see you again.”

Cameron gave her a warm smile. The tightly knit community was the best part about being back in Star Harbor. “Good to see you, too.”

Kiki ushered her to a place at the counter, where she usually liked to sit if she was dining solo.

“I bet you know what you want already,” Kiki said, sliding her a glass of ice water.

“Yes, thanks. Cobb salad, please. Dressing on the side.”

Kiki smiled and jotted down the order on a little pad. “Anything to drink?”

“An iced tea would be great. Thank you.”

“No problem. I’ll put your order in right away and will be back with your iced tea soon. I’ll also send Lexie out when she has a few minutes.”

“Wonderful.” While she waited, Cameron looked around the place. She didn’t see anyone she recognized, so she stood and studied the pastry display for a bit before returning to her seat. The glass case was packed to the gills with pies, cookies, muffins, Lexie’s famous coconut layer cake, and her personal favorite, Lexie’s double-layer lemon cake.

After a few minutes, Lexie came out of the kitchen and stepped behind the counter so that they could talk face to face. The petite woman was wearing a gauzy, swingy skirt with a short-sleeved blouse, over which she had on an apron.

“Cameron! Great to see you!” Lexie said, her warm chestnut curls bouncing as she tilted her head in greeting. “It’s been a while. I hope you’re back for longer than a day this time around.”

Cameron grinned at Lexie’s infectious enthusiasm and nodded. “I’ll be here for the next two weeks doing inventory, placing some orders, and setting things up for the summer season.”

Lexie rolled her eyes. “Inventory. Sounds like a ton of fun.”

“It has to be done. This year we’re going digital.”

“Even more fun. Well, you’re right in time for the season. Things are just starting to get exciting around here.”

“Okay,” Cameron said. “What do I need to know?” They’d gotten into a good routine, and though at the moment, the information-giving was a bit one-sided, Cameron hoped that would soon change.

In short order, Lexie gave her the rundown on a new downtown parking proposal that would limit parking to one hour in the historic area and a sidewalk sale planned for mid-August.

“Last, but definitely not least,” Lexie said, lowering her voice, “The Wright Read is in trouble. Karen’s been struggling since Max was arrested. His legal bills have drained nearly all of her resources, and the bookstore hadn’t been doing that well for a while—hence Max’s foray into drug running. I don’t know that there’s anything you can do to help, but I thought you’d want to know, since they’re right down the alleyway from you, and losing the bookstore would affect the downtown area. Plus, Karen would be out of a job.”

Cameron liked Karen Wright and had liked her husband, Max, too. Everyone—including she—had been completely shocked when Max was discovered to be involved in the drug trade that was plaguing Star Harbor. And even as she condemned the role Max had played, she understood why, at least in part. Money was a powerful motivator, which was why she’d opened both of her businesses with her own small nest egg—not with her trust fund.

“Thanks for telling me,” Cameron said. “I appreciate you keeping me in the loop.”

“Not a problem,” Lexie replied, returning to a normal tone of voice. “I have to get back to the kitchen, but I want to catch up with you more. Maybe dinner later in the week?”

“That’d be nice,” Cameron said, as Lexie dashed off.

Her food came out fast. She ate quickly, trying to savor her lunch but knowing she had mounds of work waiting for her back at her boutique. Within twenty minutes, she’d eaten and had paid her bill.

“Thanks,” she said to Kiki, as she stood up.

“Oh, dear,” Kiki said, looking out the window. “It’s started to rain. You didn’t bring an umbrella with you, did you?”

“No, but I’ll be fine. It’s just a summer shower, and besides, it’s only a few blocks.”

Kiki looked doubtful. “All right.”

“ ’Bye.”

Cameron stepped out of the door and stood under the small awning over the door frame for a moment as she figured out her plan of attack. Then she moved. Quickly, she walked from awning to awning, hugging the sides of the buildings as she went. The last block would be the worst. No awnings, and no overhangs. She was prepared to get a little bit wet, but just as she reached the edge of the last awning right outside Luke Bedwin’s hardware shop, the skies opened up, sending rain crashing down in buckets.

Cameron sighed and held her ground. She could justify getting drizzled on, but getting caught in a downpour would just be a waste of time if she needed to change afterward. As she anxiously waited for the rain to stop so she could get back to her boutique, the door to the hardware store opened. When she turned and saw who it was, her breath caught in her throat.

It was Val Grayson.

Only, he seemed … different. One black lock of hair hung over his forehead. He hadn’t bothered to shave, and there was a slight shadow on his jaw. He wore a canvas barn jacket over a shirt that seemed to fit him like a second skin, worn jeans that emphasized his long, lean legs, and a pair of scuffed work boots. But it was his hands that got her … big, rugged, and so utterly masculine that for a too-long moment, she wondered how they’d feel on her body and kind of forgot to breathe. Then he made a little noise in his throat and she realized she’d been staring at them for just a few seconds too long. When she looked up at him, his lip curled at one corner, as if he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. He regarded her evenly with deep blue eyes.

“Trapped.”

“Excuse me?” she said, her heart rate kicking up.

Val gestured at the sky. “No umbrella. You’re trapped.” Trapped. With him. They weren’t friends—not by a long shot. They were barely acquaintances. She was still uncertain as to how to respond to him. When in doubt, go for polite civility.

“It’s just water,” she said, shrugging.

“Yeah? Then why don’t you make a run for it?”

“Because I don’t want to have to change.” No need to explain the astronomically high dry-cleaning bill if she ruined the expensive garments she was wearing.

“Ah.” His eyes warmed a bit. “So you brought spare clothes.”

“I have a place here. But I have a lot of work to get through at the boutique, and I don’t want to have to waste time getting changed and then going back to the store.”

He looked at her for a long minute. “Hang on. I’ll be right back,” Val said, before disappearing into the hardware store.

Cameron sighed and peered out from under the awning. The rain was still coming down in droves. Thunder rumbled, followed a few seconds later by a sharp crack of lightning. As if on cue, the rain began to come down even harder. Her store was only a block away, but it might as well be across Buzzard’s Bay the way it was pouring. Dampness on her ankles quickly made her realize that the bottoms of her crepe-de-chine pants were getting soaked. Darn it! She took a step back. Directly into a man’s hard chest. She didn’t need to look to know it was Val.

She whirled around fast and started to apologize for bumping him when she lost her balance. Just before she teetered out from under the awning, Val caught her upper arms and pulled her back, so close that her breasts were touching his chest. Her apology died on her lips as she watched him watching her, a strange expression on his face. Instead of pushing him away, as she surely should do, she simply stood still, enjoying the delicious way his warm hands curled around her. That same warmth she’d experienced while dancing with him the other night hit her full force. Never breaking his gaze from her face, he slowly, very slowly, slid one hand up her arm to her shoulder.

Suddenly, he stopped, paused for a split second, then jerked his hand away as if he’d been burned. He unwrapped his other hand just as quickly. Before she could even process what had just happened, he pulled something out from under his arm. An umbrella. In a swift move, he popped it open and held it over her head.

“The hardware store … I didn’t even think …”

“Luke has everything,” he said simply. “Come on. I’ll walk you back to your place.”

“All right.”

He turned her around, draped an arm over her shoulders, and steered her out from under the awning and down the sidewalk. The sound of the rain hitting the umbrella was almost deafening, and she instinctively moved closer to his body, wrapping her arm around his waist. Tightening his grip, he expertly guided them around every puddle and pothole to The Front Street Boutique.

Once underneath her store’s generous awning, she slipped away from his side while he closed the umbrella and shook it out. “Here,” he said, handing it to her. “You keep it.”

“I couldn’t possibly.”

“I insist.”

“Thank you,” she said, dipping her head in acknowledgment of his help. “I’ll have to find some way to return the favor.”

“Have dinner with me on Thursday,” he said abruptly.

Her eyes widened. “I—I don’t …”

“Sure you do.” His voice was seductive. Insistent. Suddenly, the space under the awning felt a whole lot smaller.

“Okay. Yes. Dinner.” Resisting him wasn’t an option. “So we’re … even?”

His lips held the hint of a smile. “Not yet. Just one more thing.” He closed the distance between them and placed his hands on her shoulders, watching her carefully.

Then he bent his head and touched his lips to hers.