up, she gazed at the sky, full of glittery stars. It was strange to think that last night she’d seen the same stars from across the ocean. Now she was back in her hometown, not quite sure how that fact made her feel.
For the second time that night, Cam entered her mind. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that either.
Why in the world was she thinking about a man she hadn’t seen in a decade and spent a whopping thirty minutes with? It didn’t make sense. And yet, she couldn’t seem to stop.
She shook her head. Most likely, she was overly tired from a long day of travel and an emotional reunion with her father. That had to be the only reason she couldn’t stop thinking about Cam’s enticing smile, his mysterious eyes, his amazing body.
Obviously, being with her dad was her number one priority. Just eating dinner with him and seeing with her own two eyes that he was okay made her feel better. But her dad and this tiny house were only a small part of Bayside. Tomorrow she had to face the rest of the town.
Elle knew she’d come a long way since that picture her father had looked at earlier. Undoubtedly, she’d changed. Now she just had to figure out to how convince everyone else.
* * *
After seeing her dad off to work the next morning, Elle set off to check out The Brewside, sketch pad in tow.
As she walked along the path next to the bay, the cool morning air hit her face. It felt great after a restless night’s sleep. She’d finally fallen to sleep in the wee hours only to wake up around four thirty. Stupid jet lag.
And perhaps Cam Dumont kept her tossing and turning, too.
But she was not going to dwell on that little detail. Even if she was wondering where he lived. And where he’d set up his business. And what he did for fun.
She stopped in her tracks. “Stop thinking about Cameron Dumont,” she whispered. With a nod, she continued on her way.
She found The Brewside Café easily enough. Nestled between a shoe store that had been in the square forever and a newer, expensive-looking clothing shop, it was painted the same crisp white, accented with blue shutters, as the other establishments. Pots of flowers flanked the entrance. She pushed open the door to the sound of bells chiming and was hit with the welcoming aroma of rich coffee beans.
Inhaling, Elle stood there for a moment, soaking in the caffeine goodness. Once she had her fill, she stepped inside and took in the quaint decor. The raised ceiling was supported by exposed beams, and the dark wood floors gave the place a rustic feel. The tables were made up of wooden barrels with either glass plates or old doors on top. Copper pots and old kitchen utensils adorned the walls, as did a variety of vinyl records and framed black-and-white photographs. A display case with pastries dominated one wall and a large bar with coffee machines and an antique brass cash register stretched along the back.
After studying the menu, Elle stepped forward and ordered an espresso and a wheat bagel. As one of the workers began filling her order, a tall man with a beard and friendly blue eyes stopped wiping the counter and studied her.
“Hi, I’m Tony. I own this place,” he finally said.
Elle shook his hand. “Oh, nice to meet you. I’m—”
“Ellie Owens. I know.”
“How do you know?” She couldn’t place him and was pretty sure they hadn’t gone to high school together.
“Offering a legal, addictive stimulant every morning makes me the best friend of pretty much everyone in town. I have a knack for remembering faces and I’ve never seen yours before.” He picked up a copy of the local paper and handed it to her. “Plus, you’ve been outed.”
“Excuse me?”
“By the Bayside Blogger. You made both the online and print versions of the paper.”
She stared at the front page of the newspaper. “Who’s the Bayside Blogger?”
“Only the most popular columnist in the whole Bayside Bugle.” A woman wearing a flurry of bright colors planted herself by Elle’s side. “Riley Hudson,” she announced. “We graduated in the same class.”
Right. Riley Hudson of the Hudson family that had lived in Bayside for so many generations many people thought they’d probably discovered it. If Elle remembered correctly, Riley had been the most outgoing person in their class, popular, pretty and always dressed like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Basically, she’d been Elle’s polar opposite in high school. Given how she looked now, her fashion sense hadn’t changed. She was wearing a chartreuse A-line dress, a cute little fuchsia scarf and matching sunglasses perched atop a head of thick, wavy red hair.
“Hi, Riley. Nice to see you again.”
“You, too. Welcome back.”
While Riley said hello to Tony and put in an order for a nonfat latte, Elle quickly scanned the paper. The headline Lovesick Ellie Owens Returns to Bayside, splashed across the front page of section C, almost made her choke on her drink. The article following went on to sum up her brief, yet crazy history with Jasper, with an even quicker mention of her time in Italy.
Did people really read this? Did her dad? Biting her lip, Elle pushed down an uneasy feeling. She’d embarrassed her father beyond belief back in high school, and the last thing she wanted to do was repeat the past.
Elle turned her attention back to Riley as the other woman said, “If you want to know anything about the Bayside Blogger, just ask me. I read her column religiously. It’s like the New York Post’s Page Six, only here in Bayside. Want to sit together?”
Elle found her energy infectious. She nodded and followed Riley to a table. “So it’s like a gossip column?”
“It’s annoying.” This came from the guy behind the counter who had filled Elle’s order. “Damn Blogger got me in trouble with my girlfriend when she reported that I had been out with my buddies at the Beer Bash.”
“You were at the Beer Bash, Brody. I saw you,” Riley stated.
“But maybe I told Elizabeth that I would be watching a game over at Alan’s that night.”
Riley rolled her big emerald green eyes. “That’s your fault then. The Blogger was simply reporting the truth.”
He moved away, mumbling something under his breath that sounded a lot like “damn busybody.” Riley smiled and turned her attention back to Elle. “Are you excited to be back?”
“I guess.” She couldn’t hold in a long yawn. “Sorry. I’m jet-lagged.”
“Living in Europe for six years. That’s so glamorous. What did you do there?” Riley added a couple packets of sweetener to her latte and then sat back with a moony look on her face. “I imagine you lounging at cafés for hours with hot Italian men hanging on to your every word. I see plates of sinful pasta and caprese salads and you drinking amazing wine while tourists rush into the Duomo behind you.”
Elle laughed at the imagery. “The wine part’s true enough.” She leaned across the table and lowered her voice. “But you forgot about the shoes. Oh, the amazing designer shoes.”
An
