Chasing the Sun (Star Harbor Book 1), page 3
I swirled the wineglass in my hand, watching deep-red legs crawl down the crystal. It was some ridiculously expensive merlot—a thank-you gift from a client who assumed my life was as put-together as my Instagram grid made it seem.
Fake it till you make it, right?
I exhaled, rolling my shoulders, trying to shake off the exhaustion curling at the edges of my mind. A very specific kind of exhaustion—the kind that comes from knowing your bank account is holding on for dear life, but you still hit add to cart with reckless abandon.
The kind that whispers maybe happiness wasn’t about money, but also, money would sure as hell make happiness easier.
I reached for my phone again, scrolling mindlessly.
Three unread texts from Brandt.
A voicemail from the credit card company.
An email reminder about an automatic payment I definitely did not have the funds for.
I swiped them away. Future Elodie’s problem.
I had spent the last year chasing something—though I wasn’t entirely sure what. A feeling. A spark. A reason for why I was still living paycheck to paycheck in designer heels.
Something had to click eventually, right?
I tossed my phone onto the couch, but a second later it buzzed again.
I groaned, rubbing my temples, but when I saw the name on the screen, I sighed and picked up.
“Finally decided to call me back?” I teased my sister.
“I was at work,” Selene clipped. “Unlike you, I don’t have time to drop everything for a midday scandal.”
I snorted. “Oh, so you did read my texts.”
“Oh, I read them. Twice.” She exhaled, long and slow. “And I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that they didn’t even bother to lock the damn door.”
“I mean, really,” I continued, words spilling out like I’d been holding them in for too long. “What kind of idiot gets caught that easily? Office sex is, like, the oldest cliché in the book. At least have the common decency to get creative about it. Frankly, I’m offended.”
“So, just to be clear,” Selene said, her voice thick with amusement. “You’re not mad that he cheated—just that he sucked at it?”
I groaned. “No, I’m mad that Amy was the one he cheated with. I’m mad that I gave two years to a man who just—” My voice cracked before I could stop it.
Selene softened. “Hey. It’s okay to be sad . . . about all of it.”
I dropped my spoon into the now-empty pint of black cherry chocolate chip ice cream. “To be honest, I didn’t know what felt worse—the shock or the sheer humiliation. Losing Brandt? I know I’ll live. Losing the company I helped build from scratch? I’m gutted.”
Selene grumbled at the mention of my cheating bastard of an ex-boyfriend’s name. “Has he tried to call you?”
I sighed and didn’t have the heart to tell her the contents of the final text message that had come through earlier in the day.
Brandt
I’m sorry for what you saw, but I’ve been unhappy for a long time now. I will stay at Travis’s house for a few days while you pack your things. You’re beautiful, and I love you. I just don’t think I like you anymore.
Oof. Twist the knife, why don’t you?
The nerve. The unmitigated gall. The pure, unfiltered testosterone-induced stupidity of this man.
“He texted, but I have no interest in talking with him.” I groaned and pressed a hand into my stomach.
That second pint of ice cream was definitely a bad idea.
“You’re not stress eating again, are you?” When she needed to, Selene had a knack for sounding exactly like our mother.
I frowned. “Of course not,” I lied. “In fact, I am about to jump on the treadmill and think up all kinds of witty comebacks while I rage-run.”
It wasn’t a bad idea.
“Well . . .” Selene sighed. “I guess it was a good thing you two were always too busy to bring him home. That way Mom and Dad couldn’t get too attached to him.”
I let out a humorless chuckle. Our parents loved everyone. “Amen to that.”
“So this means you’re coming to Winnie’s birthday party, right?” she asked.
A genuine grin spread across my face. My niece Winnie was one of the coolest kids on planet Earth. Selene had been single-momming it for a while now, but Winnie was pure, chaotic sunshine.
The two of us were kindred spirits.
I looked around Brandt’s apartment. We had lived together for a year, and there wasn’t much there that really felt like home anyway. I could always find a new apartment. “Yes, I’m in. Text me the details and I will be there. Do you mind if I stay with you for a few days? Just until my murderous rage subsides a little?”
Selene chuckled. “Sure. I can fix up the couch for you. And don’t do anything that’ll put you in jail. My advice is to make sure your revenge is nearly undetectable. Split the seams in the seat of his pants. A little hair remover in his shampoo. Glitter bomb the vents in his car.”
I chuckled, feeling lighter already. “You are diabolical.” I loved seeing a wicked side to my typically buttoned-up older sister.
Selene laughed again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I sighed. “I really love you.”
We said goodbye, and a sly grin spread, slow and easy. I had some work to do before I headed home to Star Harbor.
THREE
ELODIE
My hometown was only about sixty miles from Grand Rapids, but without a car or a boyfriend who had one, I had to rely on a rideshare just to get home. Nothing says thriving like fleeing your city in the back seat of a stranger’s Toyota Corolla, marinating in the scent of stale air freshener and crushed dreams.
Thankfully, I could talk to just about anyone, whether they wanted me to or not. My driver Jeb was more than happy to make the drive for an obscene price, so conversation was his penance.
It only took seven minutes into the drive before he was telling me all about his wife of thirty years and their new grandbabies.
What can I say? It’s a gift.
Truth was, hearing all about Jeb’s recent squabble with his wife, Rita, was the distraction I needed. I’d have to find an apartment, a new job—my wine-induced headache was back with a vengeance.
“And there I was, watching my favorite bass fishing videos on YouTube when she’s chewing my ear about some grocery list nonsense,” Jeb continued. “I told her it could wait. So, you tell me . . . am I wrong?”
One corner of my mouth tugged up for poor, clueless Jeb. “Sounds to me like she was simply making a bid for connection. Sure, her timing could have been better, but I’m certain she didn’t mean to interrupt Bass Masters.”
“Busters,” he corrected. “Bass Busters.”
“Right. You’ve gotta make it up to her, Jeb.” I shook my head. “Show her that she’s more important to you than Bass Busters.”
“Well, of course she is!”
“Jeb . . .” My voice lowered: “What was the last thing you did, just for Rita? Took something off her plate or reminded her that you’ve only got eyes for her?”
His pale-blue eyes flicked to mine in the rearview mirror as he grumbled.
“That’s what I thought.” I dug through my purse, pulling out a business card and handing it to Jeb. “Tell them Elodie Darling sent you, and they’ll handle everything—a premium bouquet, handwritten note, the whole ‘husband of the year’ package. The owner owes me a favor.”
“Really?” Jeb accepted the card with a wide smile. “Thank you. Truly.”
I patted his shoulder. “It’s my pleasure. But flowers are a Band-Aid. It’s up to you to make sure Rita knows she’s still your girl.”
Jeb smiled. “Are you a therapist or something?”
I laughed, sinking back into the cloth seats. “No. I just know people.”
He nodded, and we continued on in companionable silence, occasionally making small talk about his grandkids or the weather. My attention focused on the tree line that zipped past as we got closer and closer to my hometown.
The wide curve in the highway brought the Lake Michigan coastline into view. The fresh water glittered and was much clearer than the river that ran through the city. I cracked the window open and pulled in a deep breath of warm, Michigan air.
The scent of fresh water, sand, and the faintest trace of pine wrapped around me like an old sweatshirt—familiar, comforting, impossible to shake. No matter how much I tried to outgrow this place, it still fit.
Blueberry fields whizzed by, and slowly the towering dunes crept higher and higher. Billboards along the highway enticed tourists to shop local, visit a distillery, or experience the local legends for themselves.
“Have you ever seen her?” Jeb asked after passing a billboard advertising a local ghost tour.
I hummed, knowing exactly what he was asking.
“The Lady,” he clarified. “Surely someone born and raised there is bound to have seen her.”
The Lady of the Dunes.
Our entire town revolved around the mysterious legend. A ghostly woman, dressed in a billowing white dress, who walked along the sandy dunes, carrying a bouquet of wildflowers. She was believed to be searching for her lost love who’d disappeared in a shipwreck in the early 1900s, but he’d been lost in the storm.
People swore they’d seen her—floating through the dunes at twilight, barefoot and heartbroken, her white dress glowing in the moonlight. Some believed she was searching for her lost love. Others claimed she was searching for vengeance. The tale had twisted and morphed with time until no one knew for certain who she was or why her spirit had been tethered to Star Harbor.
Our town’s entire existence hinged on the mysterious woman in white.
“I’ll tell you this.” I leaned forward, lowering my voice just enough to make Jeb’s knuckles go white on the wheel. “If you stay long enough, Star Harbor has a way of making a believer out of you.”
Just ask my brother Hayes.
A dull ache for my oldest brother bloomed under my ribs. The entire town may think him cursed by the Lady, but really it was just shitty luck.
It had to be.
A visible shiver rolled down Jeb’s back.
“Just keep your eyes open and your hands on the wheel,” I warned, biting back a playful grin.
His attention remained laser focused on the last few miles of the drive. Slowly, the rolling highway gave way to rural country roads, and houses were interspersed with farmland.
We cruised past the old cemetery, and I shook my head, noting the wrought iron fence was still bent and rusted from where Hayes’s accident had damaged it. It had been nearly seventeen years ago, but that night still haunted him.
Literally.
We drove past Star Harbor Farm and a shocked aww escaped me, drawing Jeb’s attention.
I pressed my finger against the window, my heart squeezing at the sight of it. Star Harbor Farm used to be magic—hayrides, pumpkins, apple cider doughnuts so good they should’ve been illegal. Now the farm looked like it had simply been forgotten.
“I used to love that place,” I murmured. “Mrs. Stafford had a farm stand where she’d give out samples of the best apple crumble ever—like, life-altering crumble. People would drive in from three towns over just to get a bite.”
Jeb huffed a laugh. “Doesn’t look like much now.”
I watched as the overgrown farm faded into the distance. A strange sense of loss washed over me—some long-forgotten childhood memory that would forever live in the past. “Yeah . . . that’s too bad.”
Jeb’s GPS brought us to the residential street where my sister lived. He rolled to a stop in front of Selene’s duplex. Jeb got out to retrieve my suitcase from the trunk, and I thanked him with a handshake as he climbed back into his car.
I playfully pointed two fingers at my eyes and then to his. “Look out for ghosts.”
Jeb chuckled and closed the door before driving away. I turned, staring up at the duplex where my sister and niece lived. It was a pretty European-style two-story house split right down the middle. It had been built to accommodate multiple families, with her place on the left and another residence on the right.
The front door opened, and Winnie bounded down the porch steps. “Aunt Ellie!”
While Selene’s hair was more of a lighter shade, Winnie had the same deep brown as me. She launched herself into my arms with all the force of a wrecking ball in a sparkly tutu. A very unladylike grunt rolled out of me.
“Happy birthday, bestie.” I squeezed her and rocked, sharing in her birthday excitement. “How old are you now? Twenty-seven? Forty-two?”
Winnie giggled and squeezed me back. “Five.”
I held her at arm’s length and narrowed my eyes to slits. “I knew it. You are an old lady.”
“I think I’m the only old lady around here.” Selene sighed, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Her hazel eyes looked tired, but I guessed that was what happened when you were a single mom with a shithead ex-husband and a daughter with buckets of energy.
“Thirty-six isn’t that old, Mama!” Winnie squinted against the sunshine and called up to her mother.
Selene’s soft smile was always stunning. “Well, that’s a relief,” she joked.
I grabbed my rolling suitcase and hauled it up the shared porch steps. Under the covered porch, my head dipped toward the adjacent home. “Got a new neighbor yet?”
“The Jeffersons moved out a few weeks ago, but no one new yet.” Selene wrapped me in a side hug. “But thank goodness, because I was getting tired of hearing them have wild sex every night,” she whispered.
“Tired or jealous?” I teased, which earned me a hip bump from my sister.
Heads together, we laughed, and a warmth spread under my ribs. Maybe being back at home for a while wasn’t so bad after all.
Inside, Winnie’s party was just getting started. I stashed my suitcase in the entryway closet and walked toward the voices in the back of the duplex.
Selene had decorated the entire lower level in hot pink, black, and gold. There was a glittery balloon arch, and a huge banner strung across the entryway to the kitchen read, Vegas, Baby!
I paused, my brows pinched down.
“Don’t ask.” My sister shook her head and laughed. “She could not be dissuaded.”
Selene unhooked the velvet rope that led to the kitchen, and I slipped through. “You’re not going to even card me?” I teased.
Selene scoffed. “You’re thirty-three, and I can see you’re not using retinol.”
I snarled at her before sticking out my tongue.
A few of the people were milling about in the kitchen, but the majority of the guests were hanging outside on the back deck.
“Bottle service is there.” Selene pointed to the giant ice-filled tub of juice boxes and soft drinks. “All-you-can-eat buffet in the dining room and casino games on the back lawn. But I’ll warn you, they’re all rigged.”
A shotgun burst of laughter erupted from my chest.
“Winnie said, and I quote, ‘The house always wins.’” Selene’s love and affection for her daughter was unparalleled.
I looked out the back windows to see my niece giggling and running around with her friends. “I seriously love that kid.”
“That’s because she’s you in a different font,” she said.
I blinked innocently, pressing my hands to my chest. “Completely lovable in every single way?”
She pinned me with a flat look. “Wildly optimistic and slightly unhinged.”
I shrugged, selecting a juice box from the tub. “Same thing.”
Together we walked out onto the back deck. I smiled and hugged old acquaintances. Selene left to wrangle the kids just as my little sister Kit walked up.
I wrapped her in a hug. “Skittle.” I squeezed, using her childhood nickname. She was shorter than me by more than a few inches, but her personality was larger than life. The sunlight caught the fiery red strands in her chestnut hair, matching my little sister’s firecracker personality perfectly.
“Surprised you decided to grace us with your presence,” she teased with a hip bump.
Guilt for not taking the time to visit more often flickered over me, but I swept it away. “Hey, at least I’m better than Clara.”
A short, disgusted noise rattled in the back of Kit’s throat. “Ain’t that the truth.”
Our sister Clara had gone to college but if you asked me what she studied, I couldn’t tell you. While I was designing and running events, she found her happiness attending them. Her fiancé’s thriving tech company did more than enough to keep her social calendar completely booked. On social media she seemed more than thrilled with the direction her life had taken her.
Not that we saw her often enough to know for sure.
“Where are Mom and Dad?” I asked, looking around and taking a sip of my juice box.
I could see Kit fighting a smile. “Uh . . . Magic Mike was having a wardrobe malfunction.”
The juice shot out of my mouth, landing in a splatter at her feet.
Kit’s chestnut waves bounced as she chuckled. “Relax. Different Mike. This one is actually a magician. Mom was convinced she could fix his cape in time for his performance, so . . . we made do.” Her chin jutted toward the back.
I looked across the yard to see my brother’s best friend running across the lawn with a squealing child in a fireman’s carry as the rest of the kids chased him. “Is that why Brody is fighting for his life over there?”
Her hands spread wide with a shrug, but her eyes moved over him and paused.
We watched with humor as he lost his battle with the tiny terrors and they tackled him to the ground. Brody worked for the local police department, so it was nice to see him having a little fun.
“Where is Hayes?” I asked, looking around for my moody oldest sibling.
