Living over a bar wasn’t conducive to a good night’s sleep, and Faith woke up exhausted. Thanks to the music playing, she hadn’t fallen asleep until after 1:00 A.M., but when choosing an apartment, she hadn’t had many alternatives. Her only other viable choice would have been moving into her mother’s house, and even the noisy bar was preferable to that. If she could get used to the constant honking of car horns and police sirens in New York City, she could readjust and learn to sleep over the sounds of Joe’s Bar.
After a quick shower, she looked into her closet so she could decide what to wear for the day and found herself surrounded by silk blouses and camisoles, designer-emblazoned jeans, shorts, and skirts, along with high-heeled shoes, most with the telltale red bottoms of Christian Louboutin. She had enough of those expensive babies to make Carrie Bradshaw proud.
But not Faith Harrington.
Not anymore.
She’d grown up with wealthy parents and she hadn’t wanted for anything from basic necessities to frivolous things she just plain desired. Back in high school she’d dressed like a typical teen, wanting to fit in with her friends. In college, she’d begun to carve out her own style, finding her likes and dislikes. Then she’d met Carter. He’d been a dominating presence and she’d let him lead her, succumbing to his not-so-subtle suggestions on how she should dress and behave as the wife of a powerhouse New York City attorney. She’d been drawn back into dressing to please others. Of course it helped that she’d had her father’s beaming approval as well. And since her college friends had either gone on to graduate school or work, something Carter insisted she didn’t need to do, she’d lost touch with people her own age she liked and really enjoyed.
It wasn’t until after her divorce, when she’d had to decide what to do with her life, that she discovered Faith Moreland had no skills, no likes or dislikes, apart from her husband’s. And it had taken Kate’s prodding for her to face the harder truth. Her divorce wasn’t enough to change who she’d become. Neither was her desire to open her own interior design business. Faith had more work to do. Not just from the inside out but also from the outside in.
Her new business needed clients and Faith needed friends. To acquire either, she had to be approachable. Beginning with how she presented herself. It was embarrassing to admit she had a closet full of clothes she wore but didn’t like. Clothes that put people off and said I’m better than you. Faith might still be figuring out the deeper aspects of who she was, but Kate was right. These clothes weren’t her.
And Faith resented them just like she resented herself for getting caught up in the charade.
She still had boxes in the corner of the living room left over from the move and she pulled one out now and began placing items of clothing inside. Overly elegant gowns, day dresses she’d never have use for here, the silkier blouses she used to hate when her mom wore them, all went into a box.
As she sorted through her closet, Faith came to another painful realization. Her clothes both emulated and represented what she’d always disdained in her own mother—the useless country club lifestyle that killed time and probably brain cells. Determined to put that life behind her, Faith placed a select few things into a shopping bag that she could carry with her, and when she was finished, she headed out the door.
Consign or Design was a quaint shop on a side street behind Main with only two other stores in the strip, one a bakery, the other one empty.
Faith stepped inside and the sound of bells welcomed her as did the décor. Minimalist and simple, mint green walls surrounded her along with hardwood floor and racks of clothing for sale.
“I’ll be right out,” a female voice called.
“Take your time!” Faith continued to browse, noting that the farther back into the shop she walked, the more unique the clothing and the more individual the pieces on display.
“Can I help you?” A woman stepped out of the back of the store, a tiny Yorkshire terrier puppy at her heels.
Drawn by the tiny animal, Faith bent down to pet the top of the dog’s head. “He’s adorable!”
“Thank you.”
Faith rose, glancing at the other woman for the first time. She was a redhead, not a natural one, judging by the vibrant color, and her clothes were funky and pure fun. A denim vest with distinct emblems sewn on over a white tank top and ruffled skirt.
Faith realized she was staring and cleared her throat. “I have some clothes here. I wanted to know whether you could sell these items for me. There’s plenty more where these came from. I just thought I’d start with the few I could carry.”
The other woman’s eyes lit up. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” She took the bag and walked to the counter, laying out Faith’s pieces to view. “Ohh, look at this Chanel!” She eyed the jacket Faith had worn the day she’d run into Ethan.
“What do you think?” Faith asked hopefully. If she was going to shop for new clothes, even less expensive ones, she hoped she could defray the cost by unloading what she already owned. “Is there a market for these kinds of things?”
The woman shook her head. “Not here, honey. I’d have to put these up on the Internet. I’d get you a better price there. Around here those who can afford designer clothes wouldn’t be caught dead in someone else’s. Even items as gently worn as these. And my regular customers need their money for more important things like paying the rent or the mortgage.”
Faith eyed the other woman warily, unsure if she was being patronized, but decided to take her words at face value. They were true, after all. “Internet is fine.”
“Good. If it would make it easier for you, I can drive around back of Joe’s after work and help you load things into my trunk.”
Faith raised an eyebrow in surprise at the offer. “So you know who I am?” The redhead hadn’t given her a clue.
“And you know me.” She smiled warmly. “I’m April Mancini. I wanted to see if you realized it on your own, but it’s been a long time and I had a head’s up: I’d heard you were back in town.”
As soon as she said her name, Faith’s memory clicked in. “Nick’s older sister!” April was four years older than Nick and she’d had long dark hair the last time Faith had seen her.
“That’s me. Now give me a hug, will you?” April pulled Faith into an embrace that made her feel welcome by someone other than Kate for the first time since her return. Not even her own mother had been as happy to see her as Nick’s sister.
Faith swallowed over the lump in her throat as she pulled back and studied the other woman. “I love your hair! The color is so rich and vibrant.”
“Thank you!” April made a show of primping her style. “I love change, so I experiment as the mood suits me. Today it’s red.”
“Well, I think you should keep it. It definitely flatters your coloring. So, this place is yours?” Faith gestured around Consign or Design.
April nodded. “The consign part is so I can make money while I indulge my real love of design.”
“Did you design these?” Faith pointed to the more unique pieces of clothing she’d admired earlier.
The other woman smiled, pride in her gaze. “I did.”
“You’re talented. Where did you learn?” she asked, curious about April’s background.
“Self-taught.” She spoke with pride.
“Amazing,” Faith said, in awe.
They had a love of design in common. Faith had always loved fashion and home decor magazines. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d remodeled her childhood bedroom based on something she’d seen in a fashion or design magazine. She’d shifted furniture and bought new bedding and funky accessories to match a whim or a mood. Faith had talked her father into sending her to Parsons in Manhattan so she could major in interior design. But she’d met Carter and married him right after graduation, losing any opportunity to put her skills to work anywhere except their uptown apartment.
“So what about you?” April asked. “I know you’re back and things with your family have been tough.”
“An understatement,” Faith said laughing. She’d learned to do that—make light of something that was really deep and painful.
“But what do you plan on doing now that you’re here?” April propped a hip against the counter as she spoke.
“Like you, I’d love to open my own store front, but for me it’s interior design.” But financially, she figured she’d have to work from her small apartment until she built up a clientele.
“Well, talk about serendipity.”
Faith was sure April wasn’t talking about the town. “What do you mean?”
“There’s an empty shop next door.” A knowing smile lifted April’s lips. “The landlords were really hoping for big bucks but they’ve been sitting with it empty for a long time. Maybe they’ll be willing to give you a deal.”
Faith knew the possibility was too good to be true. “Even with a good deal, I can’t imagine being able to afford it.”
“How do you know unless you ask?”
“Okay . . . Where would I find the landlord?”
April grinned. “Well, I’m one. And Nick is the other. We inherited the strip mall from Dad.”
She hadn’t realized their father had passed away. She and Nick had plans to catch up over dinner. “I’m sorry.”
April waved away the sentiment. “It was three years ago, but thanks. Nick subdivided this into two smaller stores and agreed to let me open my business here. The other shops have had the same businesses renting for years.”
“It sounds perfect. It really does. But until I get started and sign my first client, I don’t have any income.” And she was too smart to touch her nest egg when she could work from her apartment until she was on her feet.
April merely shrugged. “Well, we don’t have any money coming in from an empty store anyway. I’m sure we can work out a deal.”
Faith bit the inside of her cheek. A store in the center of town. How could she turn down the opportunity? People would see her awning and know she was in business. She wouldn’t have to rely solely on word of mouth. It was serendipity, like April had said. She couldn’t have hoped for anything better.
Faith nodded slowly. “If Nick says okay. You talk to him, and he and I will discuss it further when we have dinner.”
“Great!”
Before April could get too excited, Faith held up a hand. “One more thing. You have to promise me that if you get an offer for the space by someone who can pay you immediately, you’ll tell me. And I’ll move out.”
“Deal.”
Faith shook April’s hand.
“Now about these clothes,” April said, already on to another subject. “What if instead of selling some, you let me redesign and then sell? I’d cut you in on a commission. We could make so much more.” She fingered the fabric once more. “The things I could do with these.” Her voice drifted off in pure pleasure.
Faith laughed. “Sounds like an offer I can’t refuse. Why don’t you come by later and see what you like? The rest you can take to sell.”
With her life looking up for the first time in a while, Faith practically skipped out of the shop and headed home.
Ethan walked up the back stairs that led to Faith’s apartment over Joe’s. During the day, the place seemed perfectly safe, but at night, when the drunks were stumbling around and the lights barely shone in the parking lot, he was sure it was anything but. He knocked on her door, and when no one answered, he knocked again. Since he didn’t hear anyone inside, he figured he’d missed her and headed back down to his car, disappointed. He’d just have to try again another time.
No sooner did he turn the corner onto the street when he caught sight of a cop writing him a ticket. Not just any cop but his youngest brother, Dare.
Son of a bitch.
Ethan walked up silently as Dare turned around.
“Still playing it loose with the law, I see,” he said, as he snapped the ticket beneath the Jag’s windshield.
Ethan let out a low groan. “I only thought I’d be gone a few minutes and there were no other spots.”
“Like I said, you thought you’d play it fast and loose. Do you think because it’s a nonmoving violation it’s okay?” Dare shoved his pen back into his shirt pocket, expression grim, lips pulled into a tight line.
“I made a mistake.” Ethan paused a deliberate beat. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Well, at least this time you’ll pay. Literally, I mean. Fifty bucks. You’re also too close to a fire hydrant.”
Ethan tried like hell not to wince or react as he met his brother’s steely, unwavering—and uncaring—gaze. “I paid last time too. I’m still paying.”
Dare straightened his shoulders. “Tell it to someone who cares. Next time watch where you park.” He turned and walked away without looking back.
Well, he’d been right not to call him for a brotherly dinner the other night. Ethan placed a hand on the hood of his car and breathed in deeply, reminding himself he’d come back home to accept responsibility and earn back his brothers’ respect. He hadn’t expected it to happen overnight. Sometimes he thought it might not happen at all.
“Are you okay?”
At the sound of Faith’s familiar voice, he straightened and whirled around. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he snapped at her, wondering how much she’d overheard.
“Not sneaking. Just on my way home. So, are you?”
“What?”
“Are you okay?” Her gaze was soft and concerned.
He was embarrassed. “I’m fine.”
“Really? Because if I’d had that run-in with my brother, I wouldn’t be.” There she went, pushing his buttons.
“You don’t have a brother,” he reminded her.
She shrugged, lifting a delicate shoulder. “I wish I did. Maybe it wouldn’t be so lonely.”
Present tense. Apparently the princess wasn’t having any better luck making friends back home than he was.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, gesturing around the empty alley.
“Looking for you.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Why?”
“I have a proposition for you.”
She set her jaw. “Now wait a minute.”
He laughed. “A decent kind of proposition.”
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Honest reactions. Another thing he liked about her. “What is it?” she asked, clearly intrigued.
“The officer said I have to move my car or I’d tell you now.” He pulled out his keys. “Unless you want to get in and come with me to find a spot?”
She hesitated.
He let out a groan. “Come on, princess. Are we going to do this dance every time I offer you a ride?”
She rolled her eyes and headed around to the passenger side. Once they were settled, he turned on the ignition and backed the car out of the spot.
“So? Are you going to tell me what this proposition is?”
“You said you plan on opening an interior design business, right?”
She nodded.
“Well, I have a new house that needs someone to turn it into a home.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “You’re offering me a job.”
“That’s right.”
“To decorate my house.”
“My house now,” he felt compelled to remind her.
“But the home I grew up in. The place filled with childhood memories, good and bad,” she said, more to herself than to him.
She stared out the window, but he’d intrigued her. He could tell. She wrinkled her pert nose in thought, mulling the idea around in her brain.
Finally she let out a long breath of air. “It’s a great offer. A fantastic opportunity,” she admitted.
“That’s a start.”
“But I can’t possibly take it.”
Surprise mingled with disappointment. He hadn’t prepared himself for her to say no. “Why not?”
“For all the reasons I just said. It was my home and now it’s not. I envision it one way, the way I grew up.”
“I saw the place before all the furniture was liquidated,” he said. “It wasn’t a home. It was a mausoleum.”
She turned her head and glared. “Well, it was my mausoleum and I prefer to remember it that way.”
Another point he hadn’t considered.
Before he could react, she took him off guard by unlocking the door and climbing out of the passenger seat, leaving him sitting alone in his car.
Rejected twice in one day.
There was an old saying: If you couldn’t beat them, join them. So instead of fighting the noise, Faith headed downstairs to the bar for Karaoke Night. She knew Kate would be here with some of her friends, and Faith figured she might as well start carving out a social life. Whether the good folks of Serendipity liked it or not. April’s warm welcome had given her hope and a dose of courage to come down here alone. Obviously she was early because she’d beaten Kate here, so she grabbed an empty bar stool and ordered a glass of Chardonnay.
Then, realizing her drink would have been Carter’s choice, she changed it to a light beer, something she hadn’t had since college, but she’d always loved the malt taste. She grinned, imagining both her parents’ and Carter’s reaction to her drinking from the bottle.
“I thought you weren’t into Karaoke Night?” Kate slipped into the empty chair beside her.
“I changed my mind.”
“I’m glad. The rest of the gang will be here soon.”
Faith’s stomach churned and she realized she’d misjudged herself. She wasn’t ready to deal with Kate’s friends, but she was already here and had no choice.
“Hey, I thought you weren’t going to be here for another half hour?” Faith asked her friend.
Kate shrugged. “I heard you made an appearance.” She tilted her head toward Joe, the owner of the bar since he’d taken over from his father.
“He called you?”
Kate nodded. “He considers watching out for his customers part of his job.”
“So, who else is joining us?” Faith asked, preparing herself for the answer.
“Well, Lissa, for one.” Kate shot Faith an apologetic glance. “And Tanya Santos and Stacey Garner. Remember them?” Kate asked.
“Stacey still lives in town?” Faith hadn’t run into her since her return. She’d been a part of Faith and Kate’s clique back in high school.
Kate nodded. “Like you, she went off to school. She became a dentist and came back home. She works with old Mr. Hansen.”
“Good for her,” Faith said. She glanced around, wondering which of the women would arrive first.
“Looking for anyone special?” Kate asked with a grin.
“Like who?” Faith deadpanned. She really hoped her friend would take the hint and not say his name.
“Oh, a certain bad boy named Ethan Barron.”
She said it, Faith thought wryly.
She didn’t want to talk about Ethan, not when she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Yes, there was the fact that he was so handsome he took her breath away. And he wanted her to work for him, which had scared her on so many levels she hadn’t been able to get away fast enough. Stupid on her part because she desperately needed clients, and despite the emotional minefield of decorating her old home, the opportunity could showcase her talent and potentially open many more doors.
But what she couldn’t get out of her mind was how badly Ethan’s brother had treated him. And how Ethan had just accepted it as his due. Despite his lack of expression and reaction, she’d sensed how badly Dare’s rejection had hurt.
“Here you are!”
Faith’s thoughts were interrupted and she turned to see the three women Kate had mentioned earlier had joined them.
“You never sit in the corner. I almost couldn’t find you. What gives?” Lissa asked, barely sparing a glance at Faith as she spoke directly to Kate.
“Faith and I just wanted a private spot to talk until you guys got here.” Kate met Lissa’s gaze, practically daring her to be rude.
Faith pasted a smile on her face and treated the other women to a friendly wave.
“Faith Harrington, as I live and breathe!” A perky blonde nudged Lissa out of the way and made her way to Kate, giving her a huge hug.
Her second of the day and one she was happy to reciprocate. “Stacey Garner! It’s so good to see you!”
They squealed like only old girlfriends could.
From over Stacey’s shoulder, Faith caught Lissa’s wary gaze.
Too bad, Faith thought. She had another ally and she wasn’t going anywhere. Serendipity was her home too, and Lissa was just going to have to deal with her.
Faith discreetly studied her nemesis, from the woman’s silky black hair to her wide green eyes. Lissa would be attractive if not for the perpetual frown on her face, Faith observed. Recalling that Kate mentioned she was recently divorced and betrayed, Faith decided to try and not take her attitude personally.
She turned to Stacey, whom she hadn’t seen in ten years. “You need to fill me in on what’s been going on in your life!”
“I will. But first let’s order drinks. I see you already started,” the blonde said approvingly.
“The uptown girl’s drinking Bud from a bottle. Slumming with the rest of us!” Lissa noted, a renewed sour expression on her face. “I’ll have a Bud Light too!”
“We all will,” Kate said, deciding for everyone, and shooting Lissa a warning glare at the same time.
“Coming right up, ladies!” Joe called back.
“So you’ve obviously been reintroduced to Lissa,” Stacey said, diplomatically. “Do you remember Tanya?”
Faith nodded. “We were in a lot of the same classes.” “Including chorus,” Tanya said. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks.” The dark-haired woman seemed friendly enough, Faith thought, relieved she didn’t have another Lissa on her hands.
Joe placed four bottles on the bar.
Everyone grabbed theirs and Kate slid the last in front of Faith. “I figured you could use a cold one. Joe said our regular table’s ready, so let’s go sit.”
A few minutes later, the women were settled around the table, Lissa, Tanya, Stacey, and Kate chatting like old friends, catching each other up with their day. More than anything, Faith wanted to retreat, to hide away in her small upstairs apartment, but she refused to allow herself the luxury.
Kate tried to include Faith in the conversation, but eventually Faith would lose track of the people or the stories and she’d revert to being an outsider again. Faith twisted her hands together in her lap, telling herself that each time she met with this group of women, or any other group she became reacquainted with, she’d be more comfortable. She had no choice but to believe it.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Joe’s booming voice reverberated through the bar. “We’ve come to the moment you’ve all been waiting for.”
Loud hoots and hollers followed his announcement.
“It’s time for karaoke!” With his light brown hair and beach-bum T-shirt, Joe was the epitome of the comfortable host, engaging the crowd. With a flourish, he pulled down a big screen behind him. “Hit it, Lenny!”
His deejay put on a rousing version of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’,” and the words to the song flashed behind him on the screen.
“These are for anyone who wants to join in or in case our brave soloist forgets,” Joe explained.
The crowd responded with a round of applause.
“So, who’s up first?” Joe asked.
“I don’t know why he always asks. Tradition’s always the same.” Tanya shook her head and sighed.
“Watch this,” Kate whispered in Faith’s ear.
An overweight man with a comb-over stepped onto the stage and grabbed the mike. “Anyone have a song preference?” he called out to the audience.
“Who is that?” Faith didn’t recognize him.
“It’s Bill Brady!” Kate pointed out.
“The quarterback?”
“Yep.”
“The one who dated—”
Stacey hung her head in shame. “The one and only,” she said from beneath the curtain of hair that had fallen over her face.
Faith grinned. “Wow. What happened? He was so hot in high school.”
“Heredity happened.”
“Is he married?” Faith asked.
“With children. And he looks like Al Bundy too.” Stacey groaned. “He went away to Texas A&M, played football, got drafted, blew out his knee in practice, and never recovered. So he came home and runs his dad’s hardware store.”
“Give the man a round of applause,” Joe said when Bill’s off-key rendition was finished.
Faith dutifully clapped.
“Who’s up next?” Joe asked.
Nobody responded.
“A boring crowd. Just what I need. Come on, folks.” He glanced around the crowded room and his eyes settled on their table. “Ladies!” he crooned in a sexy voice.
“Oh, no,” Faith muttered.
“Ladies!” Joe said again. “I know you’re as talented as you are beautiful. Want to know how I know? Because I went to school with you and at least two of you were in chorus. One of you even had a solo!”
Faith placed her hands on her burning cheeks. He remembered? She and Kate used to be all rah rah, participating in clubs and activities like cheerleading, chorus, and even an afterschool singing club.
“Look at them acting shy when just last month they brought the house down!” He pointed to the three women sitting beside her.
Faith’s eyes opened wide. “You did?”
Lissa shook her head and groaned. “I’d just broken up with my boyfriend. My kid was staying at his father’s in New Jersey.”
“She was drunk!” Stacey gleefully reminded her.
“So were you!” Lissa shot back. “And you.” She pointed at Kate. “As a matter of fact, you dragged me up there!” This time she spoke to Tanya.
“I’m waiting!” Joe said. “We’re all waiting.” The patrons in the bar responded, clapping and encouraging them to sing.
Suddenly a waitress appeared at their table with shots of vodka.
“We didn’t order these,” Faith said.
“On the house!” Joe spoke into the microphone as if he’d heard her. “Have a few of those and we’ll get back to you in a little while. Jean here wants her turn.” He handed the microphone to a middle-aged woman with frizzy black hair and a housedress on. She began singing while her husband clapped and egged her on.
Faith glanced at the small glasses of vodka, sure Kate would turn down the straight shots of alcohol, but along with the others, she picked up the small glass.
“Faith?” Kate cajoled, clearly expecting her to join in.
“Yeah, Faith?” Lissa called her out.
A definite dare. Her tone, her stare, her expression clearly stating she thought Faith would say no. Because she was too good to sit in a bar and do shots with the locals.
Well, maybe a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old Faith Harrington would have said no, but more because she’d have been afraid she would get in trouble. But she definitely would have been curious. Without a doubt, Faith Harrington Moreland would have considered herself above this kind of behavior.
And that was the driving factor behind her choice now. Never breaking eye contact with Lissa, Faith picked up the shot glass.
“To old friends, new friends, and becoming friends.” Kate held Lissa’s gaze as she spoke.
Then all three women downed their shots before Faith could blink.
Faith tipped the glass and did the same, forcing herself not to cough as the fiery liquid burned its way down. Faith glanced at the stage and knew it would take more than one to give her that kind of courage.
“Another round?” she asked the waitress.
Three shots later, Faith found herself tipsy and on stage with the other women, singing “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer, from 1999, and revisiting her youth.
Apparently, the alcohol had done its job, relaxing her, spiking her energy and her mood, because she got into the song as well as the dance to go along with it. She hadn’t expected to have such a good time.
Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor . . .
Lead me out on the moonlit floor . . .
She sang the chorus when suddenly a sense of heat and awareness swept through her. She glanced across the room to find Ethan, leaning against a wall, arms folded across his broad chest.
Watching her every move.
