Page 25 of The Perfect Melody

“I don’t suppose you know where I can get a good cup of coffee around here?”

Her lips twitch in amusement. “You’ll want to go to Beans & Bakes on the high street.”

“Thanks.” I head back outside and back the way I came, looking forward to something better than the instant stuff on offer at The Dragonfly.

The tarmac changes to cobbles once I get closer to the centre of town, and it’s easy to spot the high street Gem and Esther have both mentioned. The street is lined with old buildings that have kept a lot of their original charm. Large bay windows are full of colourful displays, and I’m pleasantly surprised to discover there isn’t a chain business in sight—at least, not oneI recognise. It’s been a while since I lived in England, but I’ve been back plenty of times for tour dates, appearances, and interviews. Seeing so many independent businesses that appear to be thriving lifts my low mood a fraction. People living their dreams is always something to be happy about. Just because my dream hasn’t turned out to be what I thought it would be doesn’t mean it’s the same for everyone.

I resist the lure of the cute craft shop and nearby bookstore, promising myself I’ll stop into both before I leave town. When I muster the willpower to drag my gaze away from the bookstore’s window display of romance books, I spot a sign with swirling letters. The coffee shop next door is called Beans & Bakes. Cute.

The moment I push open the heavy door and step inside, I can see why Gem recommended the place. The rich scent of fresh coffee and sugary treats hangs in the air and, despite it being a weekday, there are plenty of locals occupying various tables. There’s a group of older folks dressed in workout clothes comprising an alarming amount of velour spread across two tables by the bay window, a couple of younger people with laptops, and a handsome guy with arms covered in beautiful tattoos sketching, absentmindedly bobbing his head along to whatever’s playing through his wireless headphones.

A beautiful redhead greets me from behind the counter. Unlike Austin, her hair is less ginger, more what I’d call auburn. She’s also smiling—something I’m yet to see that man do. “What can I get you?”

I order a latte to go, then wait by the end of the counter. Tiredness hits me in a wave, and I zone out while she works on my order. The stress of yesterday, of last week, hell of the lastyearis catching up to me. I’d planned to keep exploring while enjoying my coffee, but now going back to the B&B for a nap is a much more appealing option. I can rest, hang out in my room for a while, then I’ll track down Esther to ask her where sherecommends I go for dinner. While my feast of snacks worked fine last night, I should eat something more substantial tonight to help me survive whatever training Austin’s planning to put me through tomorrow.

“Thanks,” I say to the redhead, accepting my coffee and heading out.

“Hey, wait!” a deep voice calls out behind me. I look over my shoulder, alarmed to see it’s the guy with the sketchbook from the coffee shop.Shit, I can’t believe he’s recognised me. While I know my fans come in all forms, if I had to imagine the kind of person who’d see through my disguise, I’d have guessed either a teenage girl or a woman in her twenties, not this guy.

Heart pounding, I walk faster. I need to get back to the B&B, then I need to get out of Pine Grove as quickly as possible before word gets out.Fuck, Liam’s car. Ican’tleave. The guy calls out again, and my chest tightens to the point of pain. I can’t breathe. A hand lands on my shoulder, and I whirl around, yelping in surprise. My hands shake so badly that I lose my grip on my coffee. The paper cup lands between us, the lid popping off, causing the milky liquid to splash both our shoes.

“Shit, sorry, did you not hear me?” The stranger asks.

I eye him warily, rubbing my clammy palms along the outer seam of my jeans. Fuck, he must be as tall as Austin—no wonder his long legs caught up to me so fast. I’ve never really minded being short, but right now I’m internally cursing my 5ft 2” stature along with every decision I’ve made that’s led me to this moment.

“You left this in the coffee shop. Daphne asked me to see if I could catch up to you.” He holds my small leather purse out for me to take, and I’m so relieved I could cry.

“Oh, thank you.” Blinking away tears before the helpful stranger thinks I’ve completely lost the plot, I shove the purse back into my bag where it belongs. Tired or not, I can’t believeI let myself get so distracted that I left something so important behind.

“Sorry about your coffee, let me buy you a new one.”

I’m already shaking my head before he finishes the sentence. “No, that’s OK.” I gingerly pick up the now-empty paper cup and lid, hoping I’ll spot a bin on my walk back to The Dragonfly.

He flashes me a charming grin that, paired with his good looks and tattoos, I imagine usually gets him whatever he wants. “Are you sure? It’s my fault you dropped it—I really didn’t mean to make you jump.”

“It’s fine. Thanks for bringing my purse, but I need to go.” I turn and hurry away without waiting for a response.

Maybe I should make more of an effort with people since it looks like I’ll be stuck here for a while. Then again, after literally crashing into town, I don’t think it’s possible for me to make a worse first impression on the people of Pine Grove. Besides, I’m still rattled after thinking he recognised me. I need to get back to the safety of my room at The Dragonfly so I can think. Just because this time turned out to be a false alarm doesn’t mean somebody won’t find out my secret in the future. It was naïve of me not to have an escape plan in place should that happen—something I plan to rectify as soon as I can breathe again.

Chapter Eleven

Austin

I hate goingto the supermarket. You’d think Bowman’s or Quill & Dagger would be high on the list of gossip hubs in this town, but no. Beans & Bakes, Francis’ book club at Wordplay, the hairdressers (according to Mum), and the damn supermarket are where the wagging tongues can be found. Who had a few too many on Saturday night, whose relationship just ended and why, who brought off-the-shelf treats to the primary school’s cake sale instead of homemade. Tonight, as I roam the aisles, I can’t help but feelI’mthe current topic of conversation.

“—right into the beer garden…”

“Do you think he’ll delay the reopening?”

“—said he yelled at that poor girl and is forcing her to work for free.”

The snippets of conversation follow me around the shop like extra shadows.Great. The rumour mill churning out a heap of nonsense days before we’re due to reopen is the last thing I need. I knew Cassie would be trouble. Already people are talking about what happened and painting me as the bad guy. Not that I give a shit what people think of me, but I care a hell of a lot about any rumours that might affect my business.

Luckily I don’t need much since I do most of my shopping at the weekly market. It only takes me ten minutes to gather the items I can’t buy there before I’m stepping in line at the checkout.

“That doesn’t sound like Austin. He wouldn’t make someone work for free,” Zoey says, black brows knitting together as she scans Mrs Watson’s shopping.

The older woman sneers. “Just like his father, taking advantage of a young woman like that.” Mrs Watson went to school with Mum—apparently she was a nasty piece of work back then too.