Prologue—Evie
One month ago...
I looked around at the small crowd of women scattered around the café area of my bookstore and felt a surge of pride. I’d literally built this place up from nothing.
Five years ago, my husband had left me for another woman. I hadn’t seen it coming. Hadn’t had a clue that he’d been cheating on me for a long time. When he came home one day and announced he wanted out of our twenty year marriage like it’d mean nothing, my legs had buckled from the shock. I’d sat on the kitchen floor, staring up at my husband blankly as he calmly destroyed my life, our life, the life we’d built together, with a careless indifference that still made my chest hurt when I thought about it.
Paul had given me the house in the settlement, moving in with his girlfriend a few towns over but that was all I walked away with. My friends told me I should have sued him for alimony – after all, it was at his insistence that I’d been a stay at home mom to our daughter. Even after Nicole had grown up and gone away from college, I’d dedicated myself to being a good wife. I’d focused my time on being a volunteer so I could be available for my husband and his needs.
I was such a sucker.
Destitute and desperate, I’d floundered for a bit, taking any random temp job I could get to bring in some money. I felt directionless until I heard that Mrs. and Mrs. Peterson were selling their bookstore on Main Street and moving to Florida to retire. I’d spent many happy hours hanging around the shop, and I’d even worked there for a while in high school and college. When Mrs. Peterson told me the news, I’d begged them to hold off on announcing the sale and to give me first shot at buying it.
I couldn’t qualify for a business loan. According to the bank, being a wife, mother, and professional volunteer did nothing to prepare me to run a business, despite my business degree. On a whim I set up one of those crowdsourcing sites to raise the capital I needed. It’d been a Hail Mary, but it had paid off. The people of this town had rallied around me, donating their money as well as sharing links to the fundraiser all over social media. I couldn’t believe that total strangers in other states would donate to help me, and I was grateful for the support. When it was done, I had myself a bookstore.
I’d re-tooled the shop, changing the name to Boozy Books, opening up the space and expanding our selection of books. I’d also converted an unused loft space to a café that served coffee and pastries in the morning, and wine, beer, and sandwiches in the later hours. My best friends Emma and Dawn had helped me freshen the place up, opening up walls, painting, and doing anything we didn’t need a licensed professional to do. I’d worked through a lot of my anger about the divorce while taking a sledgehammer to walls in the store.
The store took off, attracting both locals and the tourists who flocked to our beachfront town. I’d soon added an online store that was even more popular than the physical site.
I’d started the Boozy Book Club about a year after I took over the bookstore. The premise was simple: each month we would combine some kind of an alcoholic beverage with a book. Last month our theme had been “Bubbly & Billionaires” and we’d paired champagne cocktails with a billionaire romance that was so hot I swear my e-reader was smoking at times.
I charged book club members a small fee to cover the cost of the refreshments, and even though they could get the book of the month at the library, everyone bought the books at my store. It had turned into a profitable little enterprise, and our numbers were growing by the month as word of mouth spread.
The conversation about our billionaire book was wrapping up and it was time to announce the selections for the next month. We all took turns coming up with a book and a matching beverage, but this month it was my turn to make the selection. I stood up and whistled to capture everyone’s attention.
“Thank you for coming tonight,” I announced. “I hope you all enjoyed this month’s theme of Bubbly and Billionaires.”
I winked at my friend Emma who’d recently fell head over heels for her own billionaire. They’d gotten together pretty fast, but she seemed happy, so I was thrilled for her.
“Our theme for next month is Martinis and Mysteries, and we’re going to be reading ‘The Mystery of Cedar Cove’. It’s a cozy mystery featuring a trio of amateur sleuths, and I think you’ll all enjoy it. We have copies available for purchase at the check-out area. Enjoy your reading ladies, and as always, thanks for supporting the Boozy Book Club.”
As the book club members lined up at the register to purchase the next book, Emma and Dawn helped me clean up the café. As we finished off the rest of the champagne cocktail that we’d served the book club, Emma gave me and Dawn a sly smile.
“Now that I found someone, maybe it’s time for the two of you to get out there too.”
Dawn and I groaned. I’d dated a ton after my divorce, but the last year or so I’d stopped, tired of the games. I was fifty-one years old and the guys I met were either looking for thirty year olds or a nursemaid. I was neither of those things. Since I’d stepped off the dating merry-go-round, it was just me and my trusty vibrator.
“Just because you found a great guy doesn’t mean Dawn and I have to torture ourselves,” I reminded her. “You know dating sucks at our age.”
“Besides, we’re both busy business owners,” Dawn added. She ran a successful seafood restaurant down by the Promenade and I had the bookstore.
Emma gave us the “don’t argue with me” stare that she’d perfected as a nurse.
“All I’m saying is that it’s never too late to find love.”
“It is for me,” I responded.
Emma shook her head. “I really hope you’re wrong Evie. I didn’t realize what was missing in my life until I found Wyatt. I just hate for you to be alone for the rest of your life.”
I placed one hand on her shoulder and one on Dawn’s. “I’m not alone. I’ve got you two.”