Exposed: Laid Bare (11 page)

Everyone in the classroom is so quiet you’d hear a pin drop if someone were inclined to drop one. Guess everyone is deep in thought, wondering what “inevitable detour”
is in store for them. And how will this “detour” alter their lives. God knows that’s what I’m thinking.

“We have about ten minutes left,” the instructor announces, breaking the trance she was holding everyone in, including me. “Are there any questions, class?”

A lively Q&A ensues, and I know it’s high time I get up off my ass and go home. But I can’t leave, not yet. I need a minute to take in all I’ve heard. It’s like when someone puts something in your head, and that’s all you think about. Now, I can’t help but imagine an inevitable detour of my own. Maybe I should take charge and make one happen next week. I could defy my parents and go to New York City with Haven. It might be worth my parents’ ire to finally venture out of the only state I’ve ever known. Not only would my bestie and I have a great time tearing up the town, but I’d be staying with Haven in her older brother’s apartment. And there’s a good chance that though Farren Shaw travels a lot for some crazy-secretive job he has, I’d finally have an opportunity to meet him. Possibly, I could even spend some time with him.

Gah
. A thrill shoots through me at the thought of spending even a mere minute with Farren. Now there’s an inevitable detour I’d like to take. Much like his sister, Farren is gorgeous. He has the same raven-black hair, same model-perfect features, like full lips and high cheekbones. His eyes, however, are not aquamarine. They’re better; they’re a unique and stunning shade of green. Not that I’ve had the pleasure of viewing these stunning green eyes in person. Only in pictures have I seen them, since, sadly, I’ve never actually met Farren. He’s not around much. He was in the military for years, special ops according to Haven. And though he was discharged over a year ago, he still spends a good deal of time in other countries for his “work.” Consequently, he’s never visited Oakwood College campus. That’s why I’ve never met him. And that
is why I’m so incredibly upset about New York. That would have been my chance. Travel or no, he’d have to stop home at some point.

Oh well. Guess I’ll have to continue to rely on pictures and short videos of Haven’s incredibly handsome brother to fuel my libido. And by fuel, I mean on all cylinders. I may not have much of an interest in sex, but I am still a woman. And, as a woman, I sense a man like Farren could change my mind on the sex-thing. He’s like some dream guy—tall, dark, and too handsome for words.

So, yeah, I’m into him. It’s mostly a secret, though. However, I must confess that once, several months ago, Haven caught me uploading pictures of Farren from her computer to my phone.

“Cyberstalking my brother, I see,” she teased as she walked over to where I was seated—rather uneasily at that point—on the sofa in our living room, her laptop in my hands.

“No, no,” I stammered while trying to close all the open windows…of Farren in uniform, Farren standing next to Haven, and Farren—a recent shot—in a finely tailored suit.

“He does look good in that one,” she said, tapping the screen before the picture of her brother in a dark suit disappeared.

She was right. Farren in a business suit was all kinds of serious hot, so I had to agree. Then, I turned from the computer and asked, “Does he have to wear suits for his new job?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, Essa. I guess.”

“What exactly
is
his new job?” I pressed. “You said he’s some kind of personal security contractor, right? What does that mean, exactly?”

“I don’t really know,” Haven admitted. Then, with a laugh, she said, “All I know is whatever Farren does he gets paid a lot of money.”

“I hope it’s nothing illegal,” I mumbled under my breath.

Hey, it’s not so farfetched to think such a thing. Not only does Farren fund his sister’s college education—as well as all her expenses—but he also has plenty of money for himself. He owns some of the best real estate in the world, including a luxurious New York City apartment. The place is sweet, very sweet, located on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, in a high-rise building right next to Central Park. I’ve seen pictures, and it looks like the kind of place a celebrity would live in. Not that I care about the money Farren has, but the fact that he has so much of it does make me curious.

See, Farren and Haven Shaw were not born into any kind of money, not like the level of wealth Farren currently possesses. Their childhood circumstances were far from ideal and not anywhere near upscale. Their dad, a man named Alan Shaw, disappeared, seemingly into thin air, when they were very young. At the time, Farren was ten and Haven was only three. Their mom was left to struggle on her own to support her two young children. And she was doing okay, until she was killed in a car crash. Seventeen-year-old Farren and ten-year-old Haven were sent to live with their aunt—someone who absolutely did not want the burden of her sister’s kids. Her aunt was cold and indifferent. Haven has said many times that her aunt was far from nice. That’s why Farren joined the army the day he turned eighteen. He left and started sending Haven money right away. Their aunt was always cheap with them, buying the kids only the bare essentials. Despite all of those things, to this day, Haven still craves family. She tries so hard to maintain a relationship with her aunt. But the woman rarely—if ever—returns Haven’s calls.

My phone vibrates, bringing me back to the present. It’s another text from Haven.

Where are you? You better get your ass home soon. We’re still going out tonight, right?

Of course
, I type back.
I haven’t forgotten that we’re celebrating the fact we survived our third year of college.

We did, didn’t we?

Hell, yeah,
I type back.
Seniors next year. Woohoo.

I’ll drink to that
,
Haven replies.

Me, too
.

Hey,
by the way, I hope you’re planning on having more than two beers tonight. Rules are out the window.

Ha-ha. And, yes, rules are out the window.

Good
,
she texts.
Who knows, Essa, maybe you’ll get so loosened up that you’ll end up meeting your fantasy man.

If only she knew it’s her brother who stars in my fantasies. Just thinking about the man—and he is a man, not some fumbling college boy—gets me all worked up. But it’s ridiculous to continue on like this. I’ll surely never meet Farren, seeing as New York City is off the table.

Resigned to live my parent-directed life, which certainly does not include hot guys, I push all thoughts of my secret fantasy, Farren Shaw, to the back of my mind. Gathering up my purse, I stand. But before I leave, I think about the lecture I listened in on.

Fate…

Destiny…

What’s in store for me? Where will these so-called predetermined events lead me? Somewhere, everywhere, nowhere. The possibilities are endless. Still, I have to wonder if there will ever be an inevitable detour in
my
life.

“Yeah, right,” I quietly scoff. The only inevitability in my future is that my life will continue as planned. But the instructor’s words resonate in my head, reminding me that we can’t escape our destiny and that we always end up where we’re supposed to be.

Of course, for that to happen, it may require a bit more defiance on my part. Particularly when it comes to my parents and where they expect me to spend this summer.

Good, okay
. That’s fine with me.

’Cause I think I’m finally ready to start pressing B every chance I get.

Continue the story…

Read the rest of
Inevitable Detour

Read the first chapter of
Harbour Falls

Harbour Falls

Chapter 1

S
itting in the idling car in the deserted and rain-drenched parking lot on tiny Cove Beach in Harbour Falls, I absently turned a business card over and over in my hands. Fingertips over smooth, heavy cardstock, with raised, royal-blue printing on one side…

Harbour Falls Realtors

Northern Maine Coastal Properties

Ami Dubois-Hensley

Agent

With an edge of a fingernail free of polish, I traced the outline of the design. It was meant to be a representation of my destination today: a mass of land out there in the churning waters bearing the ominous name of Fade Island. Heavy fogs, quite common in this tucked-away corner of northern Maine, often swallowed up the island—giving the illusion of it “fading” into the sea.

Suddenly the rain intensified without warning. Sheeting off the windshield in thick bands of water, my view of the ink-colored waves crashing along the beach blurred. I leaned forward to turn the wiper control up a notch and caught my refection in the rearview mirror. Wow, this perpetual dampness was really wreaking havoc on my long hair. I smoothed the unruly strands back into place as best as I could and noticed the California sun-kissed highlights, always so evident in my natural honey-brown shade, were already fading. Just like the island in the fog.

I’d only been back a few days, but life as I knew it felt slippery, like it could get away from me if I let my guard down. I adjusted the mirror; uncertainty warred with determination in the hazel eyes—so like my father’s—staring back at me. Questions that had haunted me since I’d first decided to return home washed over me anew.
Why had I really come back to Harbour Falls? Just how dangerous could it end up being? Should I turn around and go back…before it turned out to be too late?

But it was too late. A white SUV had just pulled to a stop and parked in the space to the right of my car. Ami Dubois—or rather Ami Dubois-
Hensley
—opened the driver’s side door. As she began to fumble with one of those oversized golf umbrellas, it was clear, despite her seated position and long raincoat, that she was very pregnant. Guess she and Sean Hensley, friends of mine from the past, had decided it was finally time to start a family. Truthfully, it surprised me they’d waited this long.

Five years had passed since I’d last seen Sean and Ami, having attended their wedding in Harbour Falls. At the time we’d all been twenty-two years old and freshly graduated from college—me from Yale, and Sean and Ami from the University of Maine.

How time flew.

A twinge of sorrow tugged at my heart as I recalled how their wedding was the first major event I’d attended with Julian, a man with whom I ended up spending six years of my life. Of course we’d just been starting out back then. And now it was all over. Back in May we’d decided to go our separate ways. People change over time, sometimes drifting in different directions without ever realizing it. Until it’s too late.

Ami’s sudden rap on my driver’s side window tore me from my ruminations. I yanked at the belt of the black trench coat I was wearing, tightening it, as the thin material of the wrap dress I wore underneath would offer little respite from the cold and rain.

I opened the car door, and Ami, stepping back, smiled warmly and tilted the umbrella so I could slip underneath it. “Maddy, it’s been too long. God, how have you been?”

“Good,” I replied. “Just trying to adjust to this weather.”

Her pale blue eyes scanned down my form. “Well, you look
amazing
. I was so excited when Mayor Fitch…uh, I mean, your dad called and said you were moving back.”

Somehow balancing the umbrella in such a way as to keep us dry, she pulled me in for an awkward one-armed hug. Her swollen tummy pressed against my slender frame for a moment, until she drew away.

“It’s great to see you too,” I said. “But I’m not moving back permanently, you know. It’s just for a few months.” To keep the conversation from delving into exactly
why
I was back for such a specific amount of time, I motioned to her stomach. “Congratulations, by the way. My dad didn’t say anything about—”

“Oh, Maddy, I am
so
excited,” Ami interrupted. “Only one more month.”

She rubbed her stomach, her hand gliding over the big, clear buttons on her powder-blue raincoat. Standing there—ash-blond hair cascading down her shoulders in big, bouncy curls and a smile as vibrant as ever—Ami radiated happiness.

I’d forgotten how pretty she was, and pregnancy certainly agreed with her. Truly pleased for my once dear friend, I said, “How’s Sean? Thrilled, I bet.”

“
Very
.”

“Do you know if you’re having a boy or a girl?”

“Um, no.” Ami hesitated and pressed her lips together. She took an inordinate amount of time to adjust the umbrella to block the swirling winds that were starting to kick up all around us, and added flatly, “We’d rather be surprised.”

“Oh,” I said slowly, “OK.”

An awkward silence ensued, and we both watched as a fast-food wrapper of some sort blew by us. It adhered to the trunk of my car, and Ami reached to snatch it up. “Nice car,” she murmured, crumpling the wrapper in her palm and dragging a finger through the beading raindrops. “Sean would love a BMW.”

There was something in her tone, something that made me feel self-conscious. Being a best-selling author of several novels allowed me to enjoy perks, such as my burgundy M6, back in Los Angeles. Flashy sports cars were a dime a dozen in California. But I’d forgotten, the people from this part of my life remembered me best as quiet, unassuming Madeleine Fitch—daughter of beloved and low-key widower, Mayor William V. Fitch.

“Thanks,” I mumbled as I shifted away, shivering as icy raindrops began to pelt the back of my head.

Ami stuffed the crumpled wrapper in her raincoat pocket and said, “Uh, we should start over to the ferry. Jennifer is expecting us by two.” And just like that, everything was back to normal.

Jennifer Weston and her cousin, Brody, owned the only two passenger ferries that operated out of Cove Beach. During the summer, in addition to the usual service, the Westons offered whale-watching excursions, usually for tourists passing through on the much less-traveled route to Canada. Or sometimes folks would venture up from Bar Harbor to explore this quiet little area, since it was relatively close. Not to mention somewhat infamous. But now that we were well into September, there’d be no whale watchers, no curiosity seekers. The ferries would be used strictly as transportation between Harbour Falls and my destination today, Fade Island.