May Your Journey Always Lead You Home

Book 1: Viera Key Cottages

by Sara Branmore

Genres: Literary Fiction; Clean & Wholesome Romance; contemporary romance; chick lit; clean wholesome fiction; summer romance

Synopsis

Two strangers, Brad and Anika, skip North Carolina for two completely different reasons

Brad Underill, a highly-successful gardening expert and famous author, is eager to flee rabid fans, fame, and fortune. He longs to get back to basics—and misses the life he enjoyed before his literary success took over.

When Covid-19 struck, Anika Longwood not only lost her blogging and editing job she loved, but her constant companion, too.

Carol Bartowan, ex-New Yorker, proud owner of Viera Key Cottages down on Florida's gorgeous North Key Largo has just finished renovating the run-down compound. Carol is eager to welcome guests into her paradise found!

When Brad and Anika fortuitously meet at Viera Key Cottages, Carol Bartowan has other plans for Brad, besides being just her gardener! When Carol is rebuffed by Brad, she discovers his true identity and is biding her time to "tell all."

However, a relationship-reluctant Brad finds himself falling hard for Anika, despite his effort to be anonymous and single. Anika discovers she has feelings for Brad but is finding it hard to trust herself, after her last relationship-fiasco.

Will Brad confess his true identity to Anika?

Has Anika enough resolve to give love another try?

May Your Journey Always Lead You Home is book 1 in Sara Branmore's series titled "Viera Key Cottages"

Please NOTE:
May Your Journey Always Lead You Home was previously released on the Kindle Vella Platform.

Add to CART and take a trip to the Florida Keys and enjoy a romantic read with a happy ending wherever in the world you are!

 

 

Read more

Release date: March 5, 2022

Print pages: 134

Content advisory: Light sexual innuendo, zero explicit

Sample

CHAPTER ONE:

Working From Home Blues

Anika Longwood rued the day she met Peter. It was fun in the beginning. She loved the challenge of not only work, but in bagging Peter, boyfriend-wise. After Covid hit, she chose to work from home. It all fell apart. Fast. She loved writing and editing the blog posts for Peter, but now? A chore. A lonely chore. Glad I’ve got

my cat for company, she thought.
Anika’s eyes followed the rivulets of rain streaking down her

bedroom window pane—crying tears for her. Her tears wouldn’t come—blocked by frustration.

A loud ping from her laptop caught her attention.
“WHERE IS IT?” yelled the instant message popup.
Oh crap. Peter again.
“I’m working on it, Peter. Give me another hour to wrap it up,”

she responded. Anika suspected something odd going on at work. Peter now tip-toed around her. He didn’t balk at me volunteering to work from home. Heck, I’d hoped he’d make a bit more of an effort to keep

me there at the office. With him.

Peter had his strengths and weaknesses. He couldn’t write a thank you note if he tried. A keen observer of stock trends, he al- ways bought the dips and sold the rallies. He had difficulty convey-

ing his message in ordinary every-day language to those who weren’t well-versed in stocks. He hired Anika who had a way with words. She wrote the posts, kept the website updated. She also took care of the social media circus.

A tight knot formed in her stomach when she thought of Peter working with Denise Danningford, the receptionist. They were still working together at the office. When Anika worked in the office be- fore the Covid-19 outbreak, she’d see Peter on a daily basis. Peter was hot—the tall, dark, and handsome type of guy. Studious. Seri- ous. And smart.

She thought back to her interview with Peter. His dark brown eyes peeped over the rim of his glasses when he asked about her ex- perience. He nervously bit his lower lip when framing questions; he didn’t want to be intrusive.

I got the job, smiled Anika. And then the man.

It didn’t take long for Peter to cave in. She was used to getting what she wanted.

The adage ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’ didn’t ring true for Anika. Ambivalent feelings toward Peter emerged. She felt the Covid-isolation to her core. She hated Peter. No, too strong a word—more an intense dislike. Distrust was creeping in. Jealousy? Perhaps a bit of that too.

Peter’s fast “OK” in response to her suggestion she work-from- home hurt. Why he didn’t encourage Denise to work from home too? Yes. Definitely odd.

Anika grew tired of her inner switch flipping from happy one minute, sad the next. She remembered happier times. The shared glances with Peter at work. The air of secrecy and intimacy making her feel excited, and wanted.

When he stayed the night at her home, she loved watching him chop wood and make kindling. They’d spend hours on cold nights curled up on the couch in front of the roaring fire. Listening to the wood crackle. Watching the sparks pop while soft background music played.

The switch flipped to the sad reality. Her cat, Jessie, is all she has for company now. On good days Peter simply tolerated her cat. Hat- ed the poor thing on bad days. Peter couldn’t conjure up the same warm and fuzzy feelings for Jessie that Anika had towards the cat. He tried. He wasn’t a cat-person, truth be told.

Jessie had been with Anika through thick and thin. Cats are intu- itive. When Anika felt low, Jessie playfully kneaded Anika’s stomach with her paws. Anika returned the caring-gesture and stroked the cat’s forehead with her finger tips. They’d rub heads and purr. Jessie would curl up for hours in Anika’s lap, pretending to watch the TV with her. They were buddies and best friends.

Anika and Peter had been dating for over a year—long enough in her books. Anika needed more. A commitment. Something to make her feel like she’s the only woman in his life. Heaven knows how many times she’d put up with Peter’s excuses. Couldn’t make it for their dinner-date. Last-minute client notes to sort out. His mom needed his help urgently. This started a month or so before Covid hit.

Maybe it’s my imagination; maybe he’s being cautious about the virus, concluded Anika. I’ve got to stop daydreaming.

Then the niggling annoyance with Peter arose again.

If I’m going to spend my days spinning his plates, I’d rather spin them on a warm, sandy beach, she thought bitterly. Even better? To spend qual- ity time with someone who loves me back as much as I love them. And her hopes of that happening with Peter were fading fast.

Peter’s looming blog post deadlines called for her immediate attention.

“JEEZ, JESSIE, WHAT’S UP?” Anika sprang out of her chair and ran to Jessie. The cat was hunched over, dry-heaving, trying to cough up a hair-ball.

False alarm. Jessie lay back down on the guest bed, defeated. Cats always look sad. Jessie’s facial expression made Anika want to cry. If only animals could talk, she wished.

The revised copy for Peter’s blog post, “How to Pick the Right Stocks for Your Portfolio,” was ready for his final yea or nay. Anika noticed Jessie was not looking well. At all. Jessie sat motionless, her mouth down-turned.

Jessie looked as fed up as Anika felt.

 

CHAPTER TWO:

Peter's Plight...

Peter Gordenson was in awe of Anika’s creative copy-writ- ing and editing skills. He often complimented her. He re- alized how fortunate he was. Maybe he should rein in his compli- ments lest they be taken the wrong way. Especially in this #MeToo era. However, he’d nothing to fear from Anika. They got along well. She looked the quintessential California girl, long blonde hair, blue eyes—yet she was a North Carolina girl through and through. At 32, she was two years younger than Peter. When he’d hired Anika through a Linked-Up ad, he immediately thought she’d be a good fit

for his company.
It was quiet on this late Friday afternoon. He guessed Anika was

looking forward to dinner with him tonight at her home. They both agreed love affairs at work were frowned upon. They did their best to keep their romance a secret. Keeping it quiet made it all the more ex- citing, Anika reminded him. Mind you, there was one other employ- ee to keep in the dark at Peter’s company. That employee was his re- ceptionist, Denise.

Peter worked for his dad’s accounting firm since graduating col- lege. For over a decade he learned the ins and outs of accounting, until his dad died suddenly of a heart attack.

“Stress will do him in one day,” his mom said to Peter. And she was right. After his father’s death, his stay-at-home mom sold the company. Told Peter she needed the funds to continue living the lav- ish lifestyle she’d grown accustomed to. She’d no intention of taking a day job—that was beneath her. Poor people had jobs, her demeanor projected. His mom’s selfish decision to sell up inevitably left Peter in the lurch, job-wise. The buyers of the business had no need for the physical office space or staff. Their basic interest laid in acquiring the business' clientele—that was the deal.

Peter wasn’t one to entertain ‘woe is me’ thinking. With his love of number-crunching and investing, he began a business blog with high hopes of it garnering a large audience. Peter would attain clients with a one-to-many marketing strategy with new online email opt-ins. Long gone were the days of old-fashioned in-person office meetings. His blog-to-be would tie in his stock-trading tactics that had made him rich, by most people’s standards.

Peter dipped into his savings and took over the existing lease on his dad’s office space in downtown Hendersonville, North Carolina. It consisted of a front reception area, and two side-by-side offices. A combined utility and lunch room were at the rear. All rooms were connected by a skinny hallway. However drab it might sound, Peter spiffed it up. He had plush carpets installed in the offices and dark hardwood floors laid in a posh herringbone pattern in the higher trafficked areas. The hallway wall displayed Peter’s diplomas and awards. His trophy wall. Taking center stage was his father’s framed photo.

Peter was capable of sharing charts with his clients online. A sim- ple task. However, he decided he wasn’t going to shoot videos or do podcasts, which admittedly would have made his job easier. It would have been a one-way conversation with the camera. The idea

of being on camera scared the you-know-what out of him. It wasn’t his cup of tea.

Peter had trouble expressing his love of number-crunching. The sharing of spreadsheets, the stocks. And his detailed knowledge of accounting law. It had to come across as something interesting, use- ful. Above all, be clear and concise for people to understand and ul- timately profit from. He didn’t know where to start, but thankfully Anika did. Anika is my company’s best asset, he thought. He was so grateful for her blog- and social-media expertise.

His next staffing requirement? Finding someone to answer the phones. Plus set up appointments and to keep the office organized. He needed a pleasant receptionist, but not over-powering. Someone eager to work and learn-on-the job. Someone who didn’t consider her position at his company as just a job.

He scoured the local job websites for a suitable receptionist to fill the position. He decided to post an ad instead.

 

CHAPTER THREE:

Denise Lands her Dream Job

Denise Danningford is one lucky woman, thought Denise, with a satisfied smile. Really lucky. She relished her receptionist position at Peter’s company.

She was 33 years old and 5’ 1” tall. What Denise lacked in stature, her pleasant non-threatening personality made up for—in spades. She admittedly felt a bit dumpy and awkward around Anika. Denise thought of trading in her glasses for contact lenses. But who am I kid- ding? Peter doesn’t think twice about me—not that way.

Her short spiky red hair contradicted her shy personality. It was an on-going inner battle for Denise. Feeling full of confidence one day, and the next? Well, not so much. Although comfortable around familiar faces, Denise acknowledged she tried too hard to be liked. I need to quit my annoying habit of finishing people’s sentences while they’re still talking. All in an effort to fit in and appear intelligent, and—us- ing today’s buzzword—feel relevant. At work, Denise tried to project an air of confidence and be outgoing, like Anika.

Denise’s previous job of head-cashier in Hendersonville’s biggest grocery store had been fun. She loved the training aspect—helping new cashiers to succeed. It was honest work and often long hours. Denise wanted a change. A nine-to-fiver with weekends off. She

day-dreamed of meeting Mr. Right; spending ‘quality time’ with him on the weekends.

Denise diligently checked the local job market online. What did she have to lose? She applied to a few companies. Two days later, an ‘application for employment’ from Peter’s company landed in her email inbox. She jumped at the chance. She applied for the position and kept all her fingers and toes crossed.

She was overjoyed when Peter phoned—the boss himself, no less— and asked her to come by the office for an interview.

DENISE DONNED her best blouse and pants and wore low heels. The sensible, no-nonsense receptionist look. Butterflies danced in her stomach as she drove the short distance from her home to Peter’s office.

AFTER THE INTERVIEW, she replayed in her mind the way Peter asked his questions. The way he stared at her. His desire to know all about her. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She didn’t dare allow her- self to get her hopes up—romantically. He’s just asking questions, getting to know her. Checking she was the proper candidate for the job. Nothing more, nothing less. Right?

Peter called again; this time with the news that she’d gotten the job. She was grateful for the opportunity.

DURING THAT FIRST YEAR, Denise learned a lot from Anika. They made a excellent team. She became involved in proofreading and the uploading of files to the website, thus saving Anika a ton of precious time. Peter’s business was growing fast. They were all spread a thin, to be honest.

But more than anything, Denise couldn’t wait to see Peter every day. Sure, he’s my suave and sophisticated boss. But suave and sophisticat- ed men like Peter don’t look at women like me. They look at women like Anika, she mistakenly thought.

THE THREE WORKED in total harmony—a testament to how exception- al a boss he’d become. Peter’s business was turning a decent profit when the poop hit the fan. In November of 2019, the virus known as Covid-19 hit the world, knocking people off their feet like a bowling ball striking pins. Anika, Peter, Denise—and the rest of the world— were bowled over.

Regular life—as we all knew it—was over. Covid turned every- thing upside down.