“Can I envy you for a second? Yesterday you left New York with nothing, and now you have a job, a place to live, and it sounds like a new friend.”

“I don’t know about friend, but she’s nice. How these two are related, I have no idea.”

“I know you are set against her brother, but you don’t even know him, right?”

“I don’t need to know him. He stole my story. Besides, I saw his photo, I read about him. What else is there to know?”

“Prejudiced much?”

“Stop!”

“By the way, I’m calling an assistant editor at his publishing house this afternoon. Didn’t hear back from the other girls on the copy. What’s your fancy-schmancy address by the ocean?”

I give her the address.

“Oh my God,” she says seconds later. “Now I really hate you. I just google mapped it and did the satellite view. Are you kidding me? It’s right on the ocean.”

“Hop on a plane and come on over. Maybe this way I get to see you. It’s only been, what, eighteen months?”

She sighs. “I wish I could. Too much work to do, can’t take a holiday now.”

“I know. OK. I have to go to sleep. Tomorrow is my first full day at my new job.”

“So funny to hear that. You, a barista. Please don’t repeat your Starbucks misadventures. We all know how those turned out. Poor Celine doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.”

I snicker. “Hey, I’m not that bad.”

“Aha. Sure. Good night,” she says.

“Have a great day, Alisa. And text me if you have news. Don’t care what time it is.”

Thirty-One

June 5

Susan is checking someone in when I bring my luggage downstairs.

My phone beeps and it’s a text message from a local number.

Good morning. Your paperwork is done, and everything looks good. I’ve left a key for you under the front doormat if you want to drop off your luggage before work. I’ll see you soon. Celine.

This is a great way to start the day.

“Good morning,” says Susan. “What a lovely day. The sun is up, the coffee is made, and biscuits are in the oven,” she declares, satisfied.

“That’s what that is,” I say with a smile. “I smelled something delicious the moment I opened my eyes.”

“Do you have time for breakfast?” she asks.

By the time I took a shower and packed it was already seven.

“I have to be at work soon, but thank you.”

“I didn’t know you worked in town,” she says. “Thought you were just visiting.”

“I just started at Café Azure.”

“Celine’s place?” she says, sounding surprised. “That’s lovely.”

She asks me to wait a couple of minutes and returns with a paper cup with a lid on and a food container. Both are hot and judging by the smell… it’s coffee and fresh biscuits. I don’t think Susan is used to taking no for an answer. She puts them on the desk and winks. “You can share them with Celine,” she says, pointing at the food box, “compliments of the chef. Ask her if my biscuits are better than hers; she’s always welcome to borrow my recipe.” She chuckles.