Stars Shine In Your Eyes, page 1
STARS SHINE IN YOUR EYES
London Sullivans 2
Bella Andre
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
A note from Bella
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
Excerpt from California Dreaming
Books by Bella Andre
About the Author
STARS SHINE IN YOUR EYES
London Sullivans 2
Malcom Sullivan & Josie Hartwell
© 2024 Bella Andre
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A note from Bella
Hello and thank you for reading my books! I have a special place in my heart for London, as many of you know. Some of my very best friends live in London and Bath – and I am lucky enough to have a flat in London with a view of the Thames and the oldest bridge in London!
The London Sullivans series began as my love letter to England with As Long As I Have You, and I’ve realized with this second book in the series, that all of the London-set Sullivans are continued love letters to one of my favorite cities in the world.
This book is very special to me, and I hope it will be special to you too!
Happy reading,
Bella Andre
P.S. While Elderflower Island is my own fictional creation, I have been heavily inspired by Eel Pie Island in southwest London, along with the London Borough of Richmond upon Thames. For those of you who know the area well, thank you for allowing this American writer the license to embellish a few major details here and there throughout my books.
P.P.S. More stories about the London Sullivans are coming soon! Please be sure to sign up for my newsletter (bellaandre.com/newsletter) so that you don’t miss out on any new book announcements.
CHAPTER ONE
Josie Hartwell could hardly believe she was in England. It had been an eleven-hour trip from Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, to Heathrow Airport in London. She should be tired after spending hours beside a couple who chattered the entire way, and if there was a crying-baby section, she was in it. However, she was so excited to be in the UK that she didn’t feel tired at all.
Instead, she was energized. She couldn’t wait to run her first reading retreat at Elderflower Island Books on Elderflower Island. Even the name sounded magical. When she had started her business of creating reading retreats, she had never dreamed that one day it would take her all the way across the Atlantic. She felt so lucky, as though everything she’d been through in her life to get to this point was finally all worth it.
She’d developed an expertise not only in running retreats but in designing spaces in which to hold them. As she and Mari Everett, the owner of Elderflower Island Books, had chatted on email and then, when they got more comfortable, on Zoom, she’d discovered Mari to be an energetic woman with big plans. She wanted to create a retreat space, and she wanted Josie to design it, then run the first reading retreat. “And more if it works out, which obviously I hope it will,” Mari had said.
Josie was excited to see the project through from design to holding the first retreat, so she’d enthusiastically agreed. Mari had booked a flex ticket in case the two weeks ran over, and Josie was careful not to take any bookings too close to the end of her time in the UK. She knew perfectly well that sometimes projects took longer than expected.
For the next two weeks, she was going to be staying on a houseboat on Elderflower Island, in a borough just outside of London. Mari had offered to book a hotel room if she preferred, but the houseboat belonged to her partner Owen’s brother, and since Mari was working so hard to launch her bookstore and reading retreats, Josie imagined money was tight. A loaned houseboat would be a lot cheaper than a hotel and, to Josie’s mind, so much nicer, so she happily chose the boat. She’d read a little bit online about the area, but she hadn’t wanted to do too much research before embarking on the trip. She wanted to experience it all fresh—to see and feel and be amazed by everything in person for the first time.
One thing she noticed as soon as she got to Arrivals at Heathrow: Everyone looked so cosmopolitan in their trench coats and fashionable boots, with expensive bags swinging from their shoulders. They all walked with such purpose, as though they had important meetings to go to. Or, like the woman who ran into the arms of a man holding flowers, they were meeting a lover whom they hadn’t seen for a while. And there was the family waiting for their father to walk out of the baggage claim area, holding a sign that said, Daddy, we are so happy you’re home! Already, England felt welcoming, and Josie hadn’t even left the airport yet.
Unlike the lovers reuniting beside her, Josie didn’t have anybody waiting for her back in Coeur d’Alene. Her mother had moved from the rainy Pacific Northwest to the Las Vegas area for year-round sun, and Josie’s friends were so busy with their kids and husbands that Josie no longer felt like she fit in anywhere. Or with anyone.
Once upon a time, she’d thought she was headed toward wearing a wedding dress and walking down the aisle to recite vows of forever. Maybe she’d even start a family in the not-too-distant future. She’d thought she’d found Prince Charming, her one true love, the man she was supposed to be with. Everything had been so perfect.
Until the day she’d had the biggest shock of her life… when she’d learned that her boyfriend already had a wife and baby.
Until the day she’d been forced to face the fact that she was nothing more than a mistress who had been lied to in every possible way.
She’d never forget the day she opened the door and found a young, attractive, furious-looking woman holding a baby and accusing her of being a homewrecker.
No, Josie thought with a shake of her head. That was her past. And this—coming to London to do her dream job—was her future. She was living a different life now. A better life. One where she chose books—both fiction and nonfiction—to help her clients.
Whatever state their personal, physical, or mental affairs might be in, the right book could help. She still could hardly believe that she was making her living by helping others find the books that were right for them, in the same way stories had always helped her through tough times… and now she’d be working in London too!
When her “perfect” relationship had fallen apart, she’d decided that she didn’t need or want a man in her life to be happy. She couldn’t trust men anymore, and that was fine with her because she was far happier being alone. Happier knowing that she wasn’t falling for some fantasy spun by a scumbag masquerading as a good man.
Even two years later, it was difficult not to let herself stew on how badly he’d betrayed both her and his wife. But she refused to let her ex ruin her life or take any more from her than he already had.
If only she could forget his frantic phone messages in which he’d claimed:
1) The situation was more complicated than his wife had made it sound.
2) He would have left his wife if she hadn’t gotten pregnant.
3) Josie was the woman he was truly in love with, not his wife.
Josie never responded to any of those messages, and within a week of breaking up with him, she got a new phone number so that he couldn’t bother her anymore.
Unfortunately, when he couldn’t reach her by phone, he had come to her house. She hadn’t let him in, though. Instead, she’d sat on the floor with her back against the door, where he couldn’t see her and the tears streaming down her cheeks.
Tears because the fairy tale had never been real.
Tears because she hadn’t seen from the start what a horrible man he was.
Tears because she’d unwittingly hurt another woman, especially one with a beautiful new baby.
All of that was behind her now, thankfully. Mari Everett, bookstore owner and Josie’s new client, was somewhere in Heathrow’s Arrivals hall, ready to take Josie to the island. Mari had said she’d be holding a sign with Josie’s name on it.
But when Josie got all the way out of the baggage claim area, dragging her heavy suitcases behind her, and looked around at all the signs, she didn’t see anybody holding one with her name on it. Nor did she see Mari.
Maybe she’d been held up in traffic? Josie had the woman’s phone number, so she could call her, but she figured she would wait a few minutes before seeing if there was a problem.
Josie had always enjoyed people-watching, and standing in the middle of the Arrivals area of one of the biggest airports in the world was a great opportunity. More lovers were reuniting to her left. A mother and son were greeting each other a little awkwardly. A businessman was heading off to continue building his empire
Ever since Josie was a child, she had created lives for people inside her head. Her mother had always fondly said that it was what came of reading so much. Her mother had assumed that one day Josie would become a writer. But although Josie could spend all day reading, she had never had the patience to sit in a chair and type for hours, day after day. She adored writers, of course. But she would always stand firmly on the reading side of books.
Her gaze landed on a man in a well-tailored suit. As he was turned slightly to one side, she could tell that he was on the phone and that he looked irritated. He also, she couldn’t help but notice, cut a fine figure. He might wear a bespoke Italian suit and handmade loafers, but the body beneath the fine threads looked like it just got off the rugby field. His thousand-dollar haircut looked ruffled, as though he ran his big hands through it when he was frustrated. In fact, he looked a lot more like an athlete than a business tycoon, whatever his wardrobe said.
Just because she had no interest in seriously dating anyone or getting married, she was still a warm-blooded woman. She could appreciate a good-looking man when she saw one.
She wondered what his story was. Was he a highflier in the corporate world, and a deal that he was trying to save was going bad? Or was he here to meet someone flying in from, say, Australia, with whom he was going to begin working? Or was he here to meet one of the beautiful British blondes in their sleek pencil skirts and impossibly high heels?
Just then, he turned so that she could see his face… and her heart stopped, along with her breath. As though he felt her staring, he glanced up, and his blue-gray eyes rested on her for a second. She glanced away, hoping he hadn’t caught her staring at his square-jawed face or the strong nose that was even more attractive for having been broken at one time.
This man reminded her of a boy she’d once known, a British exchange student named Malcolm Sullivan, who had come to Coeur d’Alene for his senior year of high school. Everyone had had a crush on him. The British accent alone would have been enough, but his good looks and his slightly wicked smile had sent all of the girls at her high school over the edge. No surprise, he’d dated the most popular girl in school—the cheerleader, the class president, and, unfortunately, one of the mean girls.
No. It couldn’t be him. What were the chances that she’d see a guy she went to high school with at Heathrow Airport?
Still, the sight of him took her back.
Josie had always been a bookworm, reading a book even as she went from class to class and definitely during lunch breaks. Back in high school, she’d had big glasses too. Brianna Sterling had made Josie a target right from freshman year. Bumbling Bookworm was what Brianna and her friends had called her. Then it just got shortened to Worm.
Josie had acted like it hadn’t bothered her, but of course it had. And through it all, Malcolm hadn’t seemed to know that Josie existed.
Why would he? She was two years behind him in school, and she certainly wasn’t going to any of the parties or dances that he was invited to. The only reason she’d gone to prom was because another senior that she was friendly with—and who also loved to read—had asked her to be his date. Although Josie guessed he had a bit of a crush on her, and she didn’t want to lead him on, she’d agreed to go. Just so she could see what a school dance was like before she graduated.
In some ways, it had been better than she thought. The hotel ballroom the prom committee had booked was better than a decorated gym would have been. It was also fun dressing up and going to a fancy dinner with her date, even if they were both pretty awkward and didn’t really know what to say to each other. At least, until they started talking about their favorite books.
In other ways, however, prom was way worse than anything she had imagined. Because when she looked at the couples dancing close, some of them kissing before they were pulled apart by the chaperones, it was hard to ignore the longing inside for someone who made her heart race. For someone she could laugh with and also spend time reading with, side by side on a comfy couch. It also hadn’t been great when her date made a move to kiss her. She hadn’t reacted quickly enough, so his wet lips and tongue found their way not only inside her mouth, but all over her cheeks too. She remembered pulling away and making a quick excuse about having to go to the bathroom.
Rather than going to the bathroom, however, she went outside the hotel to a private area down by a pretty little garden with a flower-covered pergola where she guessed they hosted weddings.
By that point in the evening, she didn’t want to go back inside. The music was too loud. Her high heels were hurting her feet. The ballroom was starting to smell like sweaty teenagers. And she really, really didn’t want to risk her date kissing her again.
That was when Malcolm Sullivan suddenly appeared. And that was also when everything changed. A few moments with her British crush gave her both her highest high and her lowest low.
All this time later, nearly fifteen years since Malcolm had kissed her—and she could still remember every detail of the kiss as though it had happened yesterday.
In any case, there was no way this man in the airport could be him. Seriously, what were the odds that one of the first people she’d see after landing in London would be Malcolm Sullivan? Or that so many years later, she’d recognize the boy she’d kissed so long ago?
Clearly, her tired, overstimulated imagination was playing tricks on her. She had never forgotten the way he’d drawn her into his arms, looked deeply into her eyes, then kissed her. For a few perfect moments, she’d felt safe and perfect and alive and beautiful in his arms.
Until it had all come crashing down when she learned the kiss was a prank. He’d mocked her for thinking the kiss was heartfelt by telling her he’d done it on a dare. That cruel joke had nearly destroyed her fifteen-year-old heart.
She’d told herself a million times over the years that she’d surely built up their kiss in her memory as being way better than it had been. Heck, she’d been fifteen years old. What fifteen-year-old being kissed by a British dreamboat wouldn’t have thought that he was everything? Except he definitely hadn’t been a dreamboat in the end. Not by a long shot.
But as the man shoved his phone into his pocket, and she could see his face better, it grew harder and harder to convince herself that he wasn’t Malcolm Sullivan. The height was correct, and though he’d filled out more, his body had the same athletic grace. His face was even more attractive, with a few laugh lines around the eyes.
She rubbed a hand over her own eyes. Jet lag. She probably should have slept more on the plane, but she’d been reading such a good book by a British author named Tasmina Perry that she hadn’t slept much at all.
Her exhaustion was the only thing that could explain it. Still, she couldn’t take her eyes off the man as he took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, glanced at his watch as though he really had better things to do, unfolded the paper, and held it toward the stream of incoming arrivals.
Josie Hartwell.
Her gasp was loud enough that several people looked her way. The Malcolm Sullivan lookalike was there to pick her up. How could this be? Where was Mari?
Josie fumbled for her phone in her carry-on bag and realized it was still on airplane mode, so if Mari had tried to get ahold of her, Josie wouldn’t have gotten her message. Of course, as soon as she took it off airplane mode, a series of text messages came flying in from Mari, who apologized profusely for being unable to pick her up. Her helper at the bookshop had called in sick, and she had a Mathilda Westcott fan group coming that afternoon, so she couldn’t close the store and come to the airport. Mari explained that her partner’s brother Malcolm would come get Josie, which she hoped would be okay because it was his houseboat that Josie would be staying in. Mari suggested that he could even help her get settled before bringing her by the bookstore.
Josie took a deep breath. She wouldn’t let herself treat this as a disaster. The name of Mari’s boyfriend’s brother was Malcolm. So this had to be Malcolm Sullivan standing there, looking impatient. She got the feeling he was usually the one being greeted at airports by drivers with signs, not being the driver.
