CHAPTER 1
Grace Teague flew into the incomparable tea room at the Inn on Brookwell Island. Riding on a triumphant high, she didn’t spare a glance for any of the lovely decor. She was too excited about finally sharing her big news with her closest friends.
Grace caught a whiff of warm chocolate in the air. Her gaze snapped unerringly to the buffet the staff had set for them. Today would be the last official meeting of The Beach Reader Silent Book Club in the historic tea room.
“Where’s Willow?”
“Present,” her best friend waved from her seat at the table. “What’s up?”
Next week they would be back at their coffee shop, although it was now under the combined ownership of her best friend, Willow, and Willow’s fiancé, Levi Garrison. Grace was looking forward to the return, if only because her store was basically across the street from the coffee shop.
Scarlett and Hazel were seated across from Willow, staring at Grace with open curiosity and surprise.
“Are you okay?” Scarlett asked.
“What happened?” Hazel stood up.
Fair questions.She wasn’t the type to barrel into a room this way. Her mom and grandma had drilled better manners into her.
“You’re out of breath,” Camille noted. “I’ll get you a water.”
“Maybe something stronger,” Grace said. Under a barrage of concerned expressions, she quickly added, “It’s all good news. I’m thrilled. More than okay, I promise. We need to celebrate.”
“Your book is that good?” Scarlett’s eyebrows shot up. “I want some of that.”
Grace let her tote bag slide off her shoulder. “This is even better than a happy ending.” She paused for effect. “The apartment is rented!”
Her book club pals erupted into a cheer. Each of them had helped in one way or another with clearing out, cleaning up, and staging the apartment above the Beach Belle for rent. The boutique, founded by her grandmother, had been on the corner of Central Avenue and Magnolia Street for decades. And all that time, the space upstairs had fulfilled a multitude of needs from storage to guest quarters to a secret hideout.
Grace had fond memories of playing in the out-of-season racks when she was little, learning how to sew, and taking long naps after mornings on the beach. She’d partied with family up there, and hosted a few unauthorized events with her girlfriends as well.
She had expected to make the apartment over the shop her first home away from home. But after dropping out of college to help her mom through a terminal cancer diagnosis, she moved back into the house instead.
After her mother passed, she couldn’t bring herself to leave her childhood home behind. Although selling the property would’ve been the smart financial move, leaving the house where she’d been born and raised, where they’d made countless fond memories, felt like a dreadful betrayal. Every piece offurniture, every inch of faded floral wallpaper, every photograph held the ghosts of her mother and grandmother. It was paralyzing, a velvet rope around her heart, preventing her from starting heractuallife.
Still, her grandmother had trained her to make the most of every asset. That included the cozy apartment over the shop. Between updating the inventory systems and living alone in a rambling three-bedroom house with full attic storage, she didn’t have a better use for the rooms upstairs.
Over the past few months, she and her friends had cleaned things out and found sturdy, stylish furnishings for the one-bedroom apartment. When it was ready, Grace had invited the local real estate office to find her a long-term tenant.
“Who is it?”
“When do they move in?”
“Are they local?”
The questions came at her like fast balls from a pitching machine. She laughed, doing her best to survive the verbal volleys. Willow delivered a cup of hot chocolate and Grace took a seat at the table.
Stirring the tiny marshmallows, she did her best to answer the queries in order. “I don’t know the tenant’s name, just that a marketing firm snapped it up within an hour of it coming on the market. They’ve leased it for the next year.” She took a careful sip of the rich chocolate while her friends celebrated that detail. Steady income for a year was almost like winning the lottery. “Apparently the company has reps who expect to be in the area frequently.”
“So, it’s essentially a corporate apartment?” Holly asked.
Grace nodded.
“Do you have a contract for the housekeeping?” Camille sat forward.
“Not officially,” Grace admitted. “It’s all happening so quickly. But I told the real estate office to contact you, that your company is my preference.” Camille owned a cleaning service and had been doing weekly and deep cleaning for the Beach Belle for years.
“Thanks, I appreciate that.” Camille sipped her tea. “Other than the Hargrave Hideaway, most of my corporate clients are offices or stores like the Belle. Lately, it’s been easier to staff jobs that are more residential.”
