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Cooper spotted her in the crowd of art enthusiasts at his inaugural gallery opening. He monitored her as he spoke with his other guests. She moved from painting to painting, pausing for a moment in front of each one. As she studied the bald eagle composition, she twirled a strand of honey-colored hair around her index finger and gnawed on her lower lip, mannerisms Cooper knew all too well.
When she turned away from the painting, her eyes met his, and a smile crept across her bow lips. She had changed in the years since he’d last seen her. How long had it been? Three years. Maybe four. She was no longer the tomboyish teenager who had stolen his heart. She was now a sophisticated young woman.
Annie strode confidently toward him with shoulders back and head held high. But she greeted him with a playful slap on the shoulder, yet another reminiscent gesture.
“Cooper! I’m so impressed. Who knew you had such talent?”
“It came as a surprise to me as well,” he said with a chuckle, a sound foreign to his ears. He’d been unhappy for so long. Was he finally coming out of his funk?
“How did you discover this talent?”
“Totally by chance. I walked past an art store during my lunch hour one day, and the display of supplies in the window inspired me to go inside. I decided to give it a try. I bought a canvas and a few tubes of paint, and here we are.”
Her doe brown eyes widened. “Are you serious? You just went home and created your first masterpiece?”
Heat radiated up his neck. “Not exactly. My first attempt was a disaster. I took a couple of painting workshops at the fine arts museum to develop my techniques.”
Annie looked around the room at the paintings, her gaze landing on the bald eagle. “The eagle is by far my favorite. The scenery looks like Moss Creek. Is that where you spotted the eagle?”
“Good eye.” A faraway expression washed over Cooper’s face as he remembered the experience. “It was one of the most magnificent things I’ve ever witnessed. He came outta nowhere, gliding over the lawn before careening back toward the marsh. I’m lucky I had my camera with me. I snapped dozens of photographs, which I used later when working on the painting.”
“Have you seen him again since that day?” she asked, her eyes still on the painting.
“No, but I’ve been on the lookout for him.”
A server approached with a tray of white wine in plastic cups, which they both refused. “Is this your catering gig?” Cooper asked.
She dipped her chin and glared at him from beneath furrowed brows. “Um . . . no. Tasty Provisions doesn’t serve cheap wine and store-bought cubed cheese.”
“My bad! Sean is the foodie in the family,” he said about his twin brother, the restaurant owner. “Thanks for stopping by. Are you here alone?”
“Actually, I’m with my boyfriend.” Annie glanced around the room. “He’s here somewhere."
Cooper’s heart sank at the mention of a boyfriend. “Is he an art collector?”
“He has a few impressive pieces, but I wouldn’t call him a collector. No offense, but I don’t think Tyler came for the art. He’s very social. He doesn’t like to miss a party. When he suggested we attend the opening, I didn’t realize you were the artist. I’m impressed, Cooper. Your work is inspirational.”
“Thank you, Annie. That really means a lot.” Cooper’s spirits lifted. Until now, he’d only shared his art with a few people, mostly family members who felt obligated to praise his talent.
Annie gave him a once-over. “I almost didn’t recognize you with the long hair. The new look fits your artist persona.”
“I’m trying to distinguish myself from my twin,” he said, tucking a stray strand of auburn hair into his man bun.
“Well, I think it’s very boho,” she said, her appreciative tone contradicting the hint of distaste on her lips.
A guy with sandy wavy hair and a face too pretty to be handsome placed a possessive hand on Annie’s back. “Come on, babe. Let’s get outta here. This artist sucks.”
Annie cast Cooper an apologetic look as her boyfriend led her into the crowd.
Wealth clung to the guy like his custom-made navy sport coat. Cooper knew the type well. Old Charleston money, home on the Battery, membership at the yacht club, multiple generations of ancestors buried in St. Philip’s graveyard. What was Annie doing with someone like that?
Cooper turned in the opposite direction and came face to face with Brooke Horne. They had family in common—Brooke’s little sister, Lizbet, was married to Cooper’s cousin Jamie—but he didn’t consider her a friend. She was a hot little firecracker, petite and feminine despite her boy-short, white-blonde hair. And off limits to him because she was gay.
Brooke offered her tiny hand. “Congratulations on your opening, Cooper. Your talent is outstanding. I love the sunrise composition. I’ve been to Moss Creek several times with Lizbet and Jamie. When I look at the painting, I envision myself sitting on the dock with a steaming mug of coffee in hand, watching those first pink rays of dawn break the horizon.”
Her words touched Cooper deeply. Until now, his painting had been an outlet to satisfy a burning need to create. His day job as a web designer failed.
to offer such fulfillment. Perhaps he could make a living painting full time. He would become a hermit and live out his days in solitude at Moss Creek.
Brooke shook her head, returning both to the present. “I wish I could afford one of your paintings.”
“Stick around. If none of them sell, I’ll give you the fire-sale price.”
Brooke’s smile reached her dazzling blue eyes. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ve been eavesdropping on the crowd. Everyone loves your work. I predict every one of your paintings will sell.”
“Are you always so optimistic?”
“Trust me, it’s a curse.” A faint blush creeped up her neck, letting him know he’d touched a sore spot. Was her cheerfulness a cover-up? But for what? She seemed so put-together.
Brooke stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “It was great seeing you, Cooper. Congrats again, and if you run into my sister, give her a hug for me,” she said and wandered off toward the exit.
Cooper spent the next ninety minutes mingling with the crowd and answering their many questions about his work. To his surprise, after living reclusively these past months, he found he enjoyed talking to these strangers about his art.
The crowd had dwindled to only a few when Lia, the gallery owner, threw her arms around his neck from behind. “You’re an overnight success, Cooper. I’ve spoken to a couple of critics. They love you. Their social media posts alone will make your career.”
Excitement fluttered across his chest. “Seriously? Have you sold any paintings?”
“All but two.” She held up two fingers with pale pink manicured nails.
“Did someone buy the bald eagle?”
“I currently have three people bidding on it. The eagle is your crowning glory.” She took him by the hand. “Come on. My assistant is closing the gallery. You and I are going to celebrate.” She dragged him outside into the sultry night air.
“Wait a minute, Lia.” He stopped walking, wrenching his hand free. “Where are we going?”
“Bourbon N’ Bubbles. A group of my friends are there.” She teetered on her wedges, and Cooper wondered how much she’d had to drink.
“I can’t tonight. But thanks anyway.”
Lia placed her hands on her hips. “Don’t be such a bore. When’s the last time you had any fun?”
He knew exactly when his fun had ended. On a late September night nearly a year ago. Besides, he doubted her idea of fun was the same as his. “But I have to drive home to Prospect.”
“Whatevs.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “You can crash on my couch.”
Lia had made it known she was interested in him, and Cooper suspected she meant for him to sleep in her bed. But he wasn’t ready for casual sex. Especially in his current state of brokenness. He needed a sweet Southern girl like Annie or Brooke. Lia may be Southern, but there didn’t appear to be anything sweet about her.
“Sorry, Cooper, but I’m not taking no for an answer. As the Lowcountry’s most promising up-and-coming artist, you now have a reputation to uphold.” Flicking her dark hair over her shoulder, Lia fished her phone out of her purse. “I’ll order an Uber.”
Cooper let out a reluctant breath. She would not give up. He suspected Lia was the type who always got her way. “I’ll drive. We can Uber home, if necessary,” he said, although he had no intention of staying long at Bourbon N’ Bubbles.
Lia babbled nonstop during the short drive, going on about all the prominent Charlestonians who’d attended the gallery opening. By the time they reached their destination on Upper King, his head had begun to throb. When they entered the upscale bar, the occupants cheered. Not for the Lowcountry’s most promising up-and-coming artist, but for Lia. She was their queen, and as Cooper stood near the door watching the scene unfold, he was very much the peasant. He clearly didn’t belong here. But where did he belong? His twin brother had a new girlfriend, and most of his childhood friends had moved to cities up north like Washington or New York. He no longer fit in anywhere. He was a loner, destined to live out his days painting pretty pictures.
When he could no longer see Lia in the crowd, he slipped out of the door. She would never even miss him.
Annie knew the crowd was watching them as she and Tyler exited the art gallery. They weren’t interested in her. They were curious about the eye candy, her boyfriend, Charleston’s most eligible bachelor. Part of her hated the feeling of always being on show, while another part enjoyed the luxuries that dating a wealthy guy offered—boats and sports cars and dinners at upscale restaurants. Dating him was like being on vacation at a five-star resort. Unfortunately, all vacations eventually came to an end.
They waited for the light to change at the intersection of Broad and Meeting Streets. “Where to now?” Tyler asked. “I’m starving. Wanna get some dinner?”
Annie rolled her eyes. “You’re always hungry.”
He winked at her. “That’s why I’m dating Charleston’s premier caterer? I’ve got a hankering for your shrimp and grits. What say we go to my place? We can pick up some shrimp at Harris Teeter on the way.”
“Let’s go out instead. I’ve been cooking all day. Sorelle is nearby. If we wait a few minutes, the crowd will die down and we can get a table.” Truth be told, they almost never had to wait for a table. Restaurant owners were always eager to serve Tyler. Social media posts featuring a member of the Gerry family were the best advertisement money could buy.
“I’m not in the mood for Italian. Now that I started thinking about your shrimp and grits, I’m craving them.”
Tyler was used to getting his way. His mother lived to indulge him. Annie tried hard not to give in to his every whim.
“I’ll make shrimp and grits for you tomorrow night. I have something I want to show you.” The light turned green, and Annie motioned for him to follow her. “Come on! I promise it won’t take long.”
Tyler had to work hard to keep up with her. He was tall but his body was long and his leg short. “Seriously, Annie. I’m hungry. This better be important.”
“It’s important to me. I need your opinion on something. Then we’ll eat.” Annie pulled out her phone, and as they strolled toward their destination, she interpreted Sorelle’s Italian menu for him. “Since you’re craving shrimp, you should get the Shrimp Oreganata, which is scampi-style shrimp.”
“I think I’ll have the tuna, so I can work up an appetite for tomorrow night when you cook shrimp and grits for me.”
“You’re relentless,” Annie said, dropping her phone in her bag.
“I am when I want something,” he said, draping an arm around her shoulders.
Annie stopped in front of a gray single house with double-decker porches extending the length of one side. “Well? What do you think?”
Tyler seemed unimpressed. “I think it’s a gray single house, like a million other gray
single houses in Charleston. Who lives here?”
“Me. Maybe. Heidi owns the house. Her upstairs tenant just moved out. But I’m not sure I can afford the rent. Wait until you see it.” Annie dangled the keys and darted up the stairs to the second floor.
He hurried up the stairs after her. “Why would you pay rent if your mom owns the place?”
“Because she has to pay the mortgage. We’re not wealthy like your family, Tyler.”
Unlocking the bolt, she swung open the door, and they stepped inside. The interior featured worn oak floors and walls painted in high-gloss white. The living room occupied the center of the apartment with an updated kitchen at one end and two bedrooms at the other. Annie circled the living room, pausing at the floor-to-ceiling windows to look out over the twinkling lights of downtown Charleston. “Isn’t it fabulous?”
Tyler joined her at the window. “Pedestrian is the word that comes to mind. It’s too white. Maybe if you painted the walls.”
“White is fresh. White feels like a clean slate for a new beginning.” Annie turned her back to the window and admired the space. Cooper’s bald eagle painting would look fabulous over the mantel on the old Charleston brick fireplace. She checked her phone for messages. She was in a bidding war with two other people for the painting. Annie had an advantage over the other interested parties. Lia was Tyler’s sister.
Tyler hugged her from behind. “So, babe . . . if you’re looking to make a change, why don’t you move in with me?”
She laughed. “Yeah, right. Why would I do that when we’ve only been dating for a few weeks?”
“We’ve been together for two months, actually.”
She craned her neck to see his serious expression. “You’re not joking?”
He spun her around into his arms. “My feelings for you are real, Annie. Two months is too soon to get engaged, but not to move in together.”
Engaged? To be married? She often daydreamed about marrying Tyler. But she was nowhere near ready for such a major commitment. He was the first serious boyfriend she’d had since . . . since high school. “I don’t know, Tyler. I’m not sure I’m ready to live together.”
He fingered a lock of her hair. “Why not? You already spend most nights at my apartment.”
Tyler never shied away from a challenge, and Annie had kept his attention by playing hard to get. Living with him would be a bad move. She suspected he’d quickly tire of her and move on to someone else.
Annie freed herself from his embrace and turned to face him. “I’m twenty-eight years old and still living with my mom. I need to be on my own for a while.”
“That’s ridiculous. You’re an adult. It’s not like you have a curfew or anything. Besides, Heidi is never there. She’s basically living with Hugh.”
“Still, it’s her house and her furniture. I don’t own so much as a coffee maker. I need my own space.”
“But why now? Why wait until you’re twenty-eight years old?” The lawyer in him was coming out. He was arguing for the sake of arguing.
Annie let out an exasperated breath. “Because Hugh is selling his house and moving in with Heidi so they can save money to buy waterfront property. And I work a lot. Our business took off so fast, I haven’t had time to even think about looking for my own place until now.”
“You don’t work a lot, Annie. You work all the time.” Tyler constantly complained about her long hours. Most evenings and weekends, she was busy catering cocktail parties and weddings.
“I’m a caterer, Tyler. It’s the nature of our business.” Hard work was all Annie had ever known. With a deadbeat for a father and an absent mother, from the time she was old enough, she’d had to work part-time jobs to help put food on the table.
Tyler took her in his arms again. “At least think about moving in with me before you commit to renting this place. We could have our own little love nest.”
His converted warehouse studio apartment was not her idea of a love nest. The handsome decor was more suited for a bachelor. Tyler was an exercise fanatic, and his apartment had an underlying stench of sweat. If they decided to live together, she would insist they find something together. Not hers or his, but theirs.
“I don’t need to think about it, Tyler,” Annie snapped. “I’m not moving in with you. At least not now. We haven’t been together long enough.”
“Do you know how many girls I’ve dated who would kill for the chance to live with me?”
“I’m not most girls, Tyler.”
“Suit yourself. It’s your loss,” he said, and shoved her away.
She stumbled backward, catching herself before she fell. “Hey! That was uncalled for.”
He rushed over to her. “I’m sorry, Annie. I didn’t mean to push you so hard.
I’m upset and I got carried away. Why don’t you feel for me the way I feel for you?”
Here we go, Annie thought. Everything is always about Tyler.
“You know I have feelings for you. I just don’t like you very much when you’re behaving like a jerk.” She spun around and crossed the room to the door.
He followed on her heels to the street. “Can we get dinner now?” he asked, as though nothing had happened between them.
She looked past him into the house’s quaint side yard. “I’m tired. I think I’ll just head home.”
“You do that,” he said through clenched teeth and strode off, retracing their steps from earlier.
Annie shivered at the memory of him shoving her. She replayed the scene in slow motion. He’d seemed genuinely sorry, and she was partially to blame. She’d insulted him, and he’d overreacted.
As Annie headed off in the opposite direction, she thought back to the first time they’d met. They’re meet-cute was back in early June. She’d been on a spy mission for Heidi, tasting new menu items at 167 Raw, and he’d been grabbing a quick lunch. He’d sat down next to her at the bar and struck up a conversation.
“Those look good,” he’d said, peering over at her platter of raw oysters. “Are they local?”
“From the Chesapeake Bay, actually. They are my favorites.”
He’d reached over and grabbed an oyster shell off her platter and slurped down the oyster. “Yum! They are good.”
She’d been appalled at first, but then charmed by his naughty boy grin, she’d burst into laughter. By the time they’d finished lunch, he’d asked her out on a date.
Guys like Tyler weren’t attracted to girls like Annie. She catered to them. She didn’t date them. This was her one and only chance to get the lifestyle she’d always dreamed of, and she had no intention of blowing it.
Annie arrived home to find her mom and boyfriend, Hugh, on the swing on the upstairs porch. They made a striking couple for two people in their late fifties. They were both fit and attractive and fun to be around. She would miss hanging out with them when she moved. Annie had been a troubled sixteen-year-old when Heidi reentered her life. She’d been furious to learn her mom had spent most of Annie’s life catering to the stars in Hollywood while Annie and her poor fisher father had been struggling to make ends meet. ...
