“There. See?” Quinn gestured to Mary as she turned to her brother. “Nothing wrong with my boat.”
“But don’t you want to settle down?” Rob asked. “Meet a nice woman and maybe even have kids?”
“I have yours to hang out with, don’t I? All the fun and zero responsibility. And when it comes to women, it’s not like there’s much choice around here.” Quinn cleared the placemats and the cutlery. “I’m not in a rush, and I’m certainly not lonely.”
“Another good point,” Mary agreed, slamming the dishwasher door shut. “Now, how about I open another bottle of wine? Do you guys want to play a game? Go a little wild on Saturday night?” she joked. “No more talk about Aster House and Quinn’s love life. I don’t want the two of you to fall out again. It’s boring.”
Quinn laughed. “How about Jenga?” She loved Mary; she always took Quinn’s side. They’d been close in high school, and even after Mary started dating Quinn’s younger brother, they’d remained great friends. And now Mary was part of her family and she truly felt like a sister.
“Jenga it is.” Mary stuck her head around the living room door and yelled, “Lila, Tommy! We’re playing Jenga!”
5
RILEY
Hungry but feeling out of sorts and not in the mood to cook in her new kitchen, Riley drove into town, hoping to find a decent restaurant. The chances of finding a good sushi bar—or any sushi bar for that matter—in Mystic were zero, so she’d lowered her standards and settled for anything but fried food. She’d waited in front of the drawbridge for ten minutes while reminding herself that time did not equal money anymore. Time had taken on a different concept altogether. Instead of being valuable, it was her worst enemy, and she fought hard to keep her anxiety at bay. Too much time had given her more opportunity to think than she wished for, and already on her second day in Mystic, she felt gloomy at the conclusions she’d drawn. She’d been selfish. She’d been too caught up in work to think of anything but her company. She’d neglected her family and her old friends, and she had no other close connections. What she did have was a healthy bank account and a big fucking mansion that she hated, in a village where she felt completely out of touch with herself.
Riley hadn’t slept much last night. Worrying about how the new owners of her company would ruin everything she’d worked so hard for, she’d been tossing and turning for hours. Her thoughts made no sense; she’d received a generous payout and it wasn’t her problem anymore, but it was hard to accept that she had nothing left to focus on. Her fragile mental state aside, the house was scary at night, and she’d gotten up five times to check if the front and back doors were locked as she kept hearing suspicious noises.
New York had felt like a safe haven compared to Aster House, even with police sirens raging on the streets below her penthouse. Her new home was quiet and noisy at the same time. The eerie silence outside freaked her out after living in a big city for so long, and the house creaked and whistled at night.
Looking at the restaurants along the harbor, Riley slowed down and parked her Mercedes. She didn’t care if the food was mediocre; at least it was busy, and that was exactly what she needed right now. A crowd.
It was only five p.m., but the sun hung low over Mystic River as she challenged the wooden pier in her high heels, cursing herself for her choice of footwear. She kept getting stuck between the planks, so she headed into the first restaurant to save herself from an accident.
“Hello there. Welcome to Mystic Pizza,” a friendly hostess said. “Do you have a reservation?”
“No. I was just walking past.” Riley smiled at her. “Do you have a table for one?”
The hostess smiled back, but she was clearly confused. In New York, there was nothing strange about eating alone—Riley had eaten alone most nights, either in fancy restaurants or in smaller local places near her apartment—but perhaps they didn’t get many lone diners here. Mystic was definitely a place where people came together. There were big groups, families, and couples, but she didn’t spot a single solo diner.
“You’re on your own?” The hostess glanced over the tables. “We’re fully booked tonight, but I’m sure we can squeeze you in somewhere if you don’t mind a small table.”
“Thank you, that would be great.” Riley couldn’t remember the last time she’d had pizza, but it smelled amazing, and her stomach was rumbling. She waited while the hostess instructed one of the waiters to clear a table by a pillar that held menus and napkins. Within no time, they’d laid it out with a checked cloth, a placemat, cutlery, a candle, and a random fake succulent in a terracotta pot that had no place in an Italian restaurant.
“What can I get you to drink?” a waitress asked her once she was seated and offered her the menu, but Riley waved a hand.
“A red wine, please, and a bottle of sparkling water. And a pizza Margherita with chili oil on the side if you have that, a small green salad, and a portion of olives.” She was used to ordering fast, eating fast, doing everything as efficiently as possible to save time, and she kept forgetting there was no point in doing that anymore. “I’m sorry,” she added. “I’m not in a rush. I’m just hungry and I know what I want.”
“No. That’s totally fine.” The waitress stared at her for a moment before she continued. “Any preference for red wine?”
Riley leaned back and tried her best to look relaxed. “The best you’ve got.”
“Very well. Give me a minute and I’ll be back with an excellent wine and your water.” She rushed off nervously, and Riley wondered if she was giving off a bad vibe. She definitely didn’t fit in here. Everyone was dressed casually, and she was still in her pantsuit and heels as if she’d come straight from the office. Her wardrobe was the first thing she’d have to change because she didn’t own much other than formal attire, and she doubted there was a drycleaner in Mystic. What made her stand out most, though, was the fact that she was alone, and she felt slightly self-conscious as she glanced around the restaurant.
Riley had never been one to care what others thought of her, but now it seemed like all eyes were on her, curiously wondering what she was doing here. A woman with two young kids at a neighboring table kept looking at her; Riley was sure of it but pretended she hadn’t noticed. Scruffy, shortish brown hair fell around the woman’s face, framing sharp eyebrows and big, hazel eyes.Curious villagers.She’d expected Mystic to be an open-minded community since it was so close to New York and popular with tourists, but perhaps it was just like so many other American small towns; suspicious of strangers and protective of their space. The woman glanced at her phone and chuckled, then turned her attention back to her kids, who screeched in excitement when their enormous pizza arrived.
“Here you go.” The waitress put down a glass of wine and her water.
“Thank you.” Riley inhaled above her glass that was way too full and took a sip. “What is it?” She was used to tasting her wine before she accepted it, but that was clearly not a thing here.
“I think it’s a pinot noir but I’m not sure. I have to check with the bar,” the waitress said nervously.
Riley shook her head and forced another smile. “No need, it’s fine.” She had a feeling this was not the place to make a fuss.
6
QUINN
