Page 3 of Small Town Schemes & Summer Kisses
Stuffing her feet into a pair of sneakers, she grabbed her keys, and the clipboard cluttered with notes and doodles. As she stepped out the door, she chewed on the inside of her cheek, her mind racing, and headed towardThe Holler & Fork.
Chapter Two
The diner buzzed like an old TV stuck between channels, flickering between the mid-afternoon lull and dinner rush. It was caught in a strange, timeless space where regulars lingered over fresh gossip and stale coffee and a random traveler from the backwoods highway interstate shuffled in to ogle the laminated menus and decide between waffles or the blue plate special for dinner.
Carter Beckett, or Beck, as he’d successfully rebranded himself since arriving in Bluebell Bay, sat in his usual booth by the window. Two eggs over-easy sat congealing next to wheat toast on a laminated glass plate. It was a quiet rebellion against the chaos he’d left behind.
He was a constant presence in the back booth ofThe Holler & Fork. Far enough away from the door and the Bingo Queens, as he liked to call them, but close enough to the sticky counterwhere Sandra could easily reach to refill his coffee cup as needed.
Beck’s body stretched out in the booth as if he owned the place. Fine grains of sand clung stubbornly to his arms and legs, a testament to a day spent on the beach. He thought his life was perfect. No alarm clocks and no boss. He could spend the entire day surfing if he wanted to. The water just needed to warm up first.
“Another cup, Beck?” Sandy leaned over the counter, one hand on her hip, her eyes sharp and knowing.
He tilted his head in consideration, squinting slightly, as he observed Sandy. As the only server, she ran everything with sharp precision. Her hair was a mix of silver and white, pulled back in a neat bun. Fine lines etched her face, hinting at a life filled with stories and laughter. She moved with the careful grace of someone who’d spent decades balancing trays in a bustling diner.
“Think I’ll switch it up. Maybe try the decaf today, Sandy.”
“Living dangerously,” she said with a wink, moving from the counter as she turned to pick up the coffeepot.
The diner’s door creaked open, and two people hustled inside, followed by the brassy blare of a tuba from a nearby street performance. For a moment, the melody mingled with the clatter of dishes and the hum of conversation. Then, with a soft click, the door closed, sealing the music outside and returning the diner to its cozy, familiar clamor.
Beck’s gaze followed Sandy as she gracefully maneuvered between the tables, her apron pocket bulging with pens and order pads. She placed two menus on a neighboring table with a warm smile before making her way to him. Her footsteps were soft against the worn linoleum floor as she approached.“Thanks,” he murmured, watching her drop two small plastic creamers beside his cup with a practiced flick of her wrist.
Settling back, he let his eyes drift out the window, tracing the path of seagulls and the lapping waves in the distance. The ocean was right there, close and predictable. His life now was a far cry from the frenzied politics he’d once known. As a former high-level brand strategist for a major marketing firm based in Washington, D.C., he specialized in political image repair and corporate rebranding. He was brilliant at what he did, but burnout was a real thing.
Too many long hours and reputation for being always on made him think about his life choices. After one particularly messy media campaign for a morally questionable client, he packed up his life and walked away from the industry. He traded the boardroom for a surfboard and vowed never to get entangled in anything having to do with late-night phone calls or meetings, cold takeout, missed vacations, and project schedules.
Just then, his vision was blocked as a familiar blur of pink zipped past, and a jolt of recognition caught him by surprise. The golf cart swung with reckless precision into the spot directly outside the window.
Beck’s eyebrows raised as he watched Caroline Hollis climb out, her clipboard held like a knight’s shield, as she closed the door to the impossibly pink contraption.The Hollis Express, in all its glory, practically burned an outline into Beck’s retinas. Caroline’s dark hair was windblown, her steps determined, and her mouth set in a serious line; he couldn’t help but find it amusing.
“What’s her hurry?” Sandy said as she finished topping Beck’s cup, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
“Trying to save the world, one laminated brochure at a time,” Beck answered, eyes still on Caroline as she tucked a stray hair back into its perfect place behind her ear.
“She looks like she’s on a mission,” Sandy remarked, following his gaze.
“Imagine that,” he replied, pretending not to care. “ThoughtThe Hollis Expresswasn’t due here for a few more days.”
“Everyone’s betting on when she’ll crash and burn.”
“Sounds like a fun game.”
“More fun than you think. Gigi’s printing bingo cards. You in?”
Beck pushed his hair back, the sun-bleached strands flopping rebelliously into place. “I’ll think about it,” he said with a smirk.
“You know, she’ll save the town from boredom, at least.” Sandra gave him a knowing look. “Might even save you.”
Beck chuckled. “I’m beyond saving.” He watched as Caroline smoothed her sweater and marched toward the diner’s entrance.
The bell above the door jingled a cheerful welcome, nearly drowned out by the burst of conversation as Caroline entered. Her presence sent a fresh wave of chatter throughThe Holler & Forkregulars.
“Caroline!” Sandy called. “I didn’t expect to see you today. Twice in one week might scare off the regulars.” She motioned for Caroline to sit at the counter.
Caroline plopped onto a stool with an exasperated sigh, tucking her clipboard under her arm. “I heard those rumors, Sandy. I’m going to have to limit myself.”
Sandy slid a cup of steaming coffee in front of Caroline. “Good luck. How’s the chaos project?”
