“What’s this?”
“Sunshine Shores, Florida.” I can’t help but smile. It’s impossible to say that town name and not be happy.
“That looks…nice. Like in a sleepy retirement community sort of way.”
She has a point, but I’m undeterred. “I think it looks peaceful, the perfect place for a fresh start.”
“Are you sure about this?” Brittany twists her hair up into a messy bun. “I don’t know who this new woman in front of me is and what you’ve done with Chloe, but I’m intrigued. You’re killing it professionally. I’m shocked you’re gonna walk away. But, I gotta say…I’m most surprised that you’re giving up on Bronson…you know with you being his future wife and all that.” She winks at me and I roll my eyes.
“Ha,” I quip and stare out the window, shaking my head. Bronson Campbell. My literary agent crush. He represents Mitch Landry, one of the biggest authors in commercial fiction. I have been in awe of Bronson from my first day at work. The feelings don’t seem to be mutual, though. Mostly because he doesn’t seem to know I exist. I mean he sees me, but he calls me Carly.
I had this fantasy that Bronson would discover I’m actually an amazing writer. He would be my literary agent and soon after, become smitten with me. And obviously we’d live happily ever after, probably traveling around the world with him smiling adoringly at me and me at him.
No one was supposed to know, but I might have disclosed it all to Brittany during an all-nighter at the office a few months ago. The combination of sleep deprivation and sugar are my downfall apparently. “You mean the guy I’ve spent the last three years wishing would fall madly in love with me but still calls me by the wrong name?”
“Okay a big part of that is on you for never correcting him.”
“Well, when I was just a newbie copy editor, I didn’t have the courage to tell him. He was all Jude Law handsome and smelled like warm donuts. My mind went blank.”
My first year at Mountain View Press, I only saw Bronson sporadically. When I moved up to editorial assistant, we were in meetings together every few months. By then, too much time had passed. It would have been way too awkward to tell him, so I just went with it. And of course, Linda never corrected him. She probably doesn’t know my first name either.
I sigh. “Good thing it doesn’t matter. Mortifying interaction avoided, because I’m moving on.”
She continues anyway. “I’ve noticed that he always makes a point to sit next to you in meetings.”
I shrug. “We have a shared love of snacks. We both sit strategically next to them.”
“I still hope you don’t go, but I’m also inspired by your chutzpah.”
“Chutzpah?” I laugh.
“Yeah it takes some serious chutzpah to walk away from a job like this.”
I nod slowly, and it feels like fire ants are starting to crawl up my abdomen. To squash them, I change the subject. “You can always come visit.” I hold up the postcard and hand it to her. “Something to remember me by.”
Brittany grabs it, and an Andes mint from a little glass tray on my desk before walking over to hug me. “I want regular life updates, okay?”
The bustling streets of downtown Denver catch my eye through the window. This should be enough for me, shouldn’t it? This job has given me a salary and a nicer apartment than I ever thought I could afford. I’m working with some of the best in the publishing world.
The words on the front of the Sunshine Shores postcard ring in my ears.Life’s too short to be anything but happy.Apparently, no amount of money or success can appease the tiny dream in my heart. It’s like a toddler who’s been without goldfish crackers for too long. It’s screaming to have its way, its desired nourishment.
I can’t wait any longer.
All I have to do is submit my two weeks' notice, dodge any and all sightings of Bronson, and not freak out that I’m making a giant irresponsible mistake. Oh, and I need my aunt to be cool with me ‘getting away’ semi-permanently at her cottage. Easy peasy, right?
Chapter 2
Bronson
Itakeonestepoutside and am immediately drenched in sweat. Scottsdale in June is a balmy 89 degrees. Wiping the perspiration from my brow, I set my luggage down. I’ll never understand the appeal of Arizona. Who wants to live in a desert? My grandparents and millions of other senior citizens love it apparently.
A golf cart whizzes by, and a gray-haired woman with a visor smiles and waves while saying, “Good morning, cutie pie!”
I give a tight-lipped nod. It still doesn’t feel right to smile. Losing Grams was a kick to the gut, but seeing Gramps devastated…That's a knockout punch.
Leaving him today is killing me. He was Grams’ caretaker for the last five years as she battled a myriad of health issues. Without her, Gramps is disorientated, fidgety, lost.
I turn my suitcase around and take a step toward their…his…little retirement community bungalow.
