Hollywood Scandal

“You don’t mean that.” Mr. Butcher had retired to his hometown after a glamorous career in the New York fashion industry. He loved it here, and we both knew it.

“There are parts of this town I love, but people’s style is not one of them. You’re the exception, my lovely girl. You and your beautiful jewelry. I just wish you’d let me introduce you to some of my friends. I’d have had you world famous by now if I was still in the industry.”

I couldn’t think of anything worse than being world famous. A slice of notoriety on my college campus had been a step too far and had sent me running home. I’d never even tried to expand my jewelry line into other people’s stores. For me, small and inconspicuous was exactly what I wanted. As long as I could pay my bills and indulge my shoe habit every so often, I was happy. “Well, I told you that online orders were doing well, didn’t I? I might just conquer a little bit of the global market after all.”

“You’re very talented. I’m sure Saks would fall over themselves to see your work.”

“You know me, Mr. Butcher. I love what I do, and being in Worthington works for me.”

“There’s a big world out there—Paris, Rome, London. You don’t want to explore? You don’t want the biggest stars in the world wearing your designs?”

That had been the dream. Once. Before I could fathom what that kind of success would mean giving up. The privacy, the control, the ability to oversee all the details, ensure the quality. “Some people are happy living small-town dreams.”

“Oh well, you must tread your own path. You just have so much potential. Now, tell me. Have you heard about the movie filming nearby?” he asked, his eyes lit up with excitement in an exact imitation of the look his dog gave me every time I brought out a biscuit.

“Mr. Butcher, I’m disappointed. That is old news. What has the world come to when you’re telling me gossip I’ve already heard?”

Mr. Butcher’s shoulders rose conspiratorially. “Have you spotted anyone in town? Someone saw George Clooney antiquing in Portland over the weekend.”

“Well, I doubt anyone will come to Worthington.” The town was quaint rather than glamorous.

“Perhaps you’ll run into that man Mrs. Wells has said is about to appear in your life.”

I straightened out the sign, making sure it was tucked in against the wall to provide a little shelter from the ocean breeze that could whip up around here out of nowhere. “I’m sure there’s meant to be something sacrosanct between fortune teller and client. Mrs. Wells shouldn’t be spreading such wild rumors.”

“Oh, it’s just between us. She’s so excited for you.”

I tried hard not to roll my eyes. “Well, I can assure you, there is absolutely nothing to be excited about. I like my feet firmly on the ground. I have no desire to be swept up in any kind of storm. I keep telling you, I’m happy with my life here.”

Mr. Butcher gave Posey a kiss on the nose as if he wasn’t listening to a word I was saying, which he probably wasn’t.

“I have some paperwork to get on with, so please excuse me, Mr. Butcher.”

“Of course, dear. Posey and I are just going for our morning promenade.”

“All eyes will be on you both, I’m sure.” Dressed in a cream, double-breasted suit and a trilby hat, Mr. Butcher couldn’t help but draw the eye. No one was going to miss him. I’d seen him a couple of times posing for pictures with tourists. He loved the attention.

“You are such a charming girl. You’re going to conquer the world one of these days.”

I leaned forward and gave Posey a kiss between her ears. “Have a good day, you two.”

The sun was hot and bright as I watched Mr. Butcher and Posey head down to the sea front. Hopefully, the good weather meant the tourists would be here and ready to shop.

I pulled up the stool to the counter and logged on to my laptop. My first job was always to check sales and place any necessary orders from Massachusetts.

As I began going through the sales, my phone rang.

“Hey,” I answered when I saw Ruby’s name. “How was your weekend?”

“Chas and I split.” Her voice sounded far away as if it was too much effort to speak louder.

I took a breath before I replied. I didn’t want to sound as relieved as I was. “Oh God, Ruby. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, he told me he didn’t want to be tied down.”

“But I thought it was casual?”

She sighed. “I thought so, too. I guess I can’t even get casual right.”

“Hey, this isn’t you. He’s a man-child. You need to find yourself a grown-up.”

“Or I should just retire my vagina.”

I laughed. She was always so dramatic. “Take a breath.”

“Can’t you come down and spend the weekend in New York? I want a girls’ night out. Maybe both of us will meet someone.”

“I can’t.” More importantly, she knew I wouldn’t. “I have the shop and the house is rented. I have to be here.” Images of bare-chested Matt flashed into my head. Did he ever wear a shirt? I supposed with the chest he had, he wanted to show it off. His skin this morning had looked hot, and I’d wanted so badly to reach out and press my fingertip against his shoulder, just to check if it burned.

“You’re not in the shop on weekends, and the renter next door doesn’t need you to be there.”

I pressed print on the list of orders that had come in. “Why don’t you come back here for the weekend?”

Ruby sighed. “I need to flirt my way out of misery. Who am I going to flirt with in Worthington? Mr. Butcher?”

I chuckled. “Posey would get jealous.”

“What’s going on there anyway? Any news about Mrs. Wells’ prophecy? Any men washed up on the shore?”

One. Next door. He was too tall. Too handsome. Too close. Usually, renters came and went and I never saw them. For some reason, I kept running into Matt, as if our daily pattern had become entangled.

I pulled the first two sheets of orders from the printer. “You know this place. Same old, same old.”

“So come to New York,” she pleaded, drawing out the vowels like a five-year-old.

“I can’t.”

Silence reigned on the other end of the phone.

“It’s not like it was in college, you know. There are eight million people in this city, none of whom give a shit about you. Just come back for a visit.”

I didn’t want to have this conversation. There was no point in bringing up the past. It was done, and I didn’t want to think about my untrustworthy ex-boyfriend and how he’d ruined college for me, sending me home to Worthington, my dreams in pieces. “I have a customer. I’m going to have to go.”

“I didn’t hear the bell ring.”

I smiled. She knew me far too well. “The door is open. Try not to obsess over Chas. I’ll talk to you later.”

I hung up and stared out toward the ocean. This place was beautiful. Safe. I was surrounded by people who’d known me my whole life and knew who I really was. Why would I ever want to leave?





Seven





Matt

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