Beachside beginnings, p.1
Beachside Beginnings, page 1
Join USA TODAY bestselling author Sheila Roberts for a seaside escape to the beaches of Moonlight Harbor
Moira Wellman has always loved makeovers—helping women find their most beautiful selves. Funny how it’s taken her five years with her abusive boyfriend, Lang, to realize she needs a life makeover. When Moira finally gets the courage to leave Lang, the beachside town of Moonlight Harbor is the perfect place to start over.
Soon Moira is right at home, working at Waves Salon, making new friends and helping her clients find new confidence. When she meets a handsome police officer, she’s more than willing to give him a free haircut. Maybe even her heart. But is she really ready for romance after Lang? And what if her new friend is in hot pursuit of that same cop? This is worse than a bad perm.
With all the heart and humor readers have come to expect from a Sheila Roberts novel, Beachside Beginnings is the story of one woman finding the courage to live her best life. And where better to live it than at the beach?
Praise for the novels of Sheila Roberts
“No one writes emotionally satisfying, warmhearted tales of small-town life quite like Roberts.”
—Booklist on Starting Over on Blackberry Lane (starred review)
“An irresistible story... Lighthearted and full of colorful, quirky characters and surf-side warmth, this latest foray into Roberts’s picturesque coastal world is sheer delight.”
—Library Journal on The Summer Retreat
“Roberts once again works her easy, breezy brand of romance magic in the latest sun-dappled, ocean-splashed, and superbly satisfying addition to the endlessly charming Moonlight Harbor series.”
—Booklist on The Summer Retreat
“Roberts kicks off her new Moonlight Harbor series with this delightful story of family, friendship and new beginnings. The vividly-drawn coastal Washington setting comes alive.”
—RT Book Reviews on Welcome to Moonlight Harbor
“Welcome to Moonlight Harbor will be sure to capture your attention as well as your heart.”
—HarlequinJunkie.com
Also by Sheila Roberts
CHRISTMAS FROM THE HEART
Moonlight Harbor
WINTER AT THE BEACH
WELCOME TO MOONLIGHT HARBOR
THE SUMMER RETREAT
Icicle Falls
CHRISTMAS IN ICICLE FALLS
STARTING OVER ON BLACKBERRY LANE
THREE CHRISTMAS WISHES
HOME ON APPLE BLOSSOM ROAD
CHRISTMAS ON CANDY CANE LANE
A WEDDING ON PRIMROSE STREET
THE LODGE ON HOLLY ROAD
THE TEA SHOP ON LAVENDER LANE
THE COTTAGE ON JUNIPER RIDGE
WHAT SHE WANTS (also published as ROMANCE ON MOUNTAIN VIEW ROAD)
MERRY EX-MAS
BETTER THAN CHOCOLATE (also published as SWEET DREAMS ON CENTER STREET)
Look for Sheila Roberts’s next novel,
ONE CHARMED CHRISTMAS,
available soon from MIRA.
SHEILA ROBERTS
Beachside Beginnings
For Charlene, who has helped so many women.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Recipes from Your Friends in Moonlight Harbor
Edie’s Dumplings
Penne with Artichoke, Olives and Bacon
Spiced Apple Bread
Acknowledgments
One
“He kicked Harry,” Moira Wellman told her boss, Michael Rozzi, owner of Chez Michael’s Salon.
The memory of her boyfriend booting her poor little cat across the room pulled tears of rage from her. When Lang yelled at her or hit her, she knew she’d somehow brought it on herself. But Harry Pawter had done nothing to deserve such treatment other than try to slip back into the apartment after Lang had put him out.
Her cat had yowled and she’d cried and Lang had told her to shut up or she’d be out with the cat. That had been the night before and now she was out with the cat. For good.
After Lang had fallen asleep, she’d brought Harry back in. The poor little guy had yowled in pain when she picked him up. She’d cuddled him while she sat on the couch, steaming. And thinking. And then steaming even hotter. And then worrying about what would happen if she got up the nerve to do what she wanted to do.
Before Lang woke up, she’d put Harry in his cat carrier and stowed him in the back of her fifteen-year-old Honda, cracking the window so he’d have fresh air. Then she’d set out the last maple bar from the donut box (Lang always got the maple bars), showered and dressed and mentally readied herself for...whatever. Who knew what that would be? Usually, after a bad night he woke up ready to pretend nothing was wrong. But sometimes, if she looked at him wrong, said something wrong, he’d go off again like a firecracker.
Right on time at seven o’clock, he came out of the bedroom in his boxers, all smiles. “You’re up early.”
I couldn’t sleep. No, that implied he’d upset her and if she implied he’d upset her, then she also would have been implying he’d done something wrong.
She’d opted for “Ready for a new day.” That sounded positive.
He’d nodded and moved on to the kitchen. She already had the Keurig ready to go with his favorite coffee. She’d gone into the bathroom and begun putting on her makeup. Just another day in paradise.
He’d joined her there with his coffee and maple bar, setting the coffee on the bathroom counter and watching her, like a prison guard would watch a prisoner. “Where’s the cat?”
“Outside.”
He’d nodded his approval and that had been that. She’d breathed easier.
Until right before he went out the door. He’d studied her, eyes squinting as if he was trying to read her mind. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He’d half frowned, but all he said before he went out the door was, “I’ll call you later.”
She didn’t want him to call her at all.
After Lang left for work, she’d brought Harry back inside and fed him, then let him rest on the bed while she loaded his food, litter box and toys in the car. Next came her clothes, purse and makeup, and the fifty bucks she’d hidden in a boot. She wished she could take the cute set of dishes that she’d found at Goodwill, but the idea of spending the extra time to pack them gave her the whim-whams. She’d start again somewhere with new dishes.
Now Harry was in his carrier once more, this time on the passenger seat, and she was sitting behind the wheel. They were still in the parking lot in front of the apartment. She had her cell phone in one hand and was gripping the steering wheel with the other. The key was in the ignition but she was finding it hard to reach over and turn it. If it wasn’t for the fact that her hands were shaking, she’d have thought she was paralyzed.
“How could he do a thing like that?” she whispered.
“Haven’t I been telling you for the last three years? The guy’s scum,” said Michael.
“He does have a temper,” Moira admitted. But was he really that bad? If he wasn’t, why was she sitting here in her car, ready to bolt?
Michael let out a disgusted snort. “Girl, you are the queen of understatement.”
Okay, Lang had issues. But didn’t everybody?
“That goon has slapped you around, broken your arm and made you feel like the bottom of the shit pile. And now this. Come on, Moira, it’s a cosmic message. Are you getting it?”
Yes, she was, although if Lang hadn’t done what he’d done to Harry, she’d never have dreamed of leaving. In spite of the problems they’d had, she’d still loved him.
And feared him.
No, no, not fear. It was more like she’d treated him with care. Lang was a man who had to be finessed, the same way she would finesse a haircut. You had to do things just so or it got ugly. She could take the ugly. Wasn’t that what love was all about? You accepted the person, faults and all. But to hurt a defenseless animal? Uh-uh. That was a deal breaker. She couldn’t stay.
Of course, he would come to the salon on his lunch hour to make sure they were good, maybe even bring her one of those chocolate roses you saw in all the drugstores in February because he knew how much she adored them—so romantic—and he’d assure her that all was well, they were fine and they belonged together.
It was how they rolled. No matter where they were or how hard they fought, she always wound up back home with him. He’d tell her that he’d never meant to hurt her. He loved her. She just made him so mad. Why did she always have to push his buttons? She’d ask herself the same thing, tell him she was sorry and then it wou ld be as if nothing ever happened, him putting an arm around her as they sat on the couch, watching TV. Except she’d have a purpling memento on her cheek or a sprained wrist.
One time it was a broken jaw. But what had she expected? That time she’d mouthed off to him, called him the scum Michael said he was. She’d told the emergency-room doctor that she’d tripped and fallen on her face. She never told people what really happened when Lang accidentally hurt her. People asked too many questions. And their relationship was, well, complicated. So no matter how concerned a doctor would look, no matter what questions he’d ask, she always stuck to her story. Anyway, how did you explain that you were as much at fault as your boyfriend?
She knew whose fault last night was, though, and it wasn’t hers. And she wasn’t staying.
Something Lang had said back in January crouched at the back of her mind, like Death slipping into the back row of a church at a funeral. They’d gone out on New Year’s Eve and had rung in the New Year with beer and a major fight. He’d accused her of flirting with another guy. She’d insisted she hadn’t been and it had all slid into ugliness from there. The next morning, she’d been covering her black eye with makeup and, once more, they’d had that conversation about who’d really been the problem.
“You make me crazy, Moira, but I love you,” he’d said. “I couldn’t live without you.”
So romantic.
“If you ever left me, I swear to God I’d kill you.”
So...romantic? She’d tried to lighten the moment. “Aw, you wouldn’t even miss me. You’d just sit around drinking beer and playing Call to Arms with your online buddies and blowing each other up.”
His eyes had turned to slits and his jaw to granite. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying I ignore you?”
Wrong move. She’d backpedaled quickly. “No. It was a joke. Jeez.”
“Well, I didn’t think it was funny.”
What would he think if he came home from the office today and found her gone? A chill crept up her spine. Her heart rate picked up and she felt suddenly sick.
She shot a look over her shoulder, half expecting Lang to come driving back in his fancy car. “What am I going to do?” she whispered into her phone.
“You’re going to get out of here,” Michael said.
“I need to take Harry to the vet.”
“Take him to the vet in another town.”
“Another town?”
Michael might as well have said another universe. She was moving out, but she hadn’t thought of moving that far out. She’d always lived in Seattle, grown up in the city—the fringe ends and not the best neighborhoods, but still, it was what she knew. The farthest she’d ever gotten outside the city limits had been a day trip to Wild Waves in nearby Federal Way with some friends.
She’d first gone to the amusement park when she was a reckless teenager, partying and shoplifting mascara from Walmart and snitching money out of her mom’s purse. It was the closest she’d probably ever get to Disneyland.
Her mom sure hadn’t taken her anyplace. No Disneyland, no zoo, no trips to see Grandma, who’d disowned her mother the day she moved in with Moira’s father. (Not too hard to figure out why. According to her mom, her dad, who’d left when she was one, had been a mean drunk.) She’d never seen her dad since, hadn’t seen her mom in the last year and a half, either. Lang had come between them.
Even though her life in the city wasn’t all that great at the moment, it was at least familiar. Where should she go? What was she going to do?
“Come by the salon,” Michael commanded.
“He’ll find me there.” If he did, she’d lose either her resolve or a tooth.
“Where are you now?” Michael asked.
“In the parking lot at the apartment.”
“He’ll find you there, too, and you’ll be all alone. Get over here right now.”
She bit her lip and nodded. Like Michael could see her nod? If Lang had been with her in the car, he’d have said, “You’re such a dumb shit.”
Maybe she was, but maybe she didn’t have to stay dumb. She ended the call, took a deep breath and told her racing heart to chill. Then she started the car and screeched out of the parking lot like the devil himself was after her.
Michael had been watching for her when she walked up to the salon, bringing Harry along in his pet carrier. He unlocked the glass door of Chez Michael’s and let her in, then shut it behind them.
Even standing behind a locked door with someone right next to her it was hard to feel calm. Where was Lang right now? Was he at work? He’d called her cell phone twice since she left the apartment but she hadn’t answered. He knew. He knew he’d finally pushed things too far when he went after Harry.
Michael’s first client would be arriving any moment and then he wouldn’t have time for her or her problems. She wished she could turn herself invisible. Or travel in time back to...when? When had her life ever been really good?
“You need a plan,” Michael told her.
A plan. Yes, a plan. She had no plans. She had no idea what she was going to do beyond making sure her cat was okay.
Their receptionist, Rebecca, came in and hung her coat on the coat-tree. “Hi, Moira,” she said. “What’s with the cat?”
Michael answered for her. “It’s bring-your-cat-to-work day.” With a jerk of his head, he motioned Moira back into the stockroom, where they kept their supplies—towels, colors, shampoo and other products along with mannequin heads, color swatches and the lighting equipment for when they did photo shoots for Instagram. Once they were in, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “You can’t stay here. You gotta get out of Dodge.”
She looked on in horror as he took out three one-hundred-dollar bills and shoved them at her. “Take this.”
“I can’t,” she protested.
“Yeah, you can. You need something to tide you over. I’ll send you your last paycheck once you’re settled.”
She could feel tears prickling the back of her eyes. “Aww, Michael.” How could she take his money? He had a wife and two young kids and a third one on the way.
“Go on,” he urged. “If you won’t take this for yourself, take it for Harry. Vets are expensive. And if that doesn’t cover it, have the vet send the bill for the rest to me. In fact, send the whole damn bill. You’ll need this to tide you over until you get settled.”
The tears escaped and started down her cheeks. “Shit,” she muttered as he grabbed her hand and pressed the money into it.
“Yeah, that’s what you’ve been in for the last three years. Now you’re getting out of it.” He took his cell phone and began texting. “I know this woman, Benito’s aunt. She’s got a salon and she could use someone like you who’s good with color and can do makeovers.”
Her phone pinged, signaling a text from him.
“That’s the name of her salon and the town it’s in,” he said as Moira read the information on her phone screen. “Her name’s Pearl Edwards. I’ll let her know you’re coming.”
Moonlight Harbor. It sure sounded pretty. But, “Where’s that?”
“The end of the world.”
The end of the world?
Michael’s cell rang. He frowned and turned the screen for her to see.
The incoming call was from Lang. Seeing it sent adrenaline racing through her and she backed away.
Michael took the call. “Lang. I was just gonna call you and ask if you knew where Moira is. I’ve been trying to reach her and she’s not answering her phone. She’s got a color scheduled for nine thirty. Yeah, yeah. I’ll tell her. If you find her, tell her to get in here or she’s fired. I have plenty of other girls who’d like to work at Chez Michael’s if she doesn’t want to,” he added, sounding like the big meanie he wasn’t.
Moira was shaking by the time he ended the call. “Thank you,” she whispered. Michael was the best. He and his wife had been good friends to her ever since she’d come to work for him. More like family, really. Well, as much like family as Lang would let her have.
Michael reached out an arm and pulled her to him for a hug. “Things are gonna work out for you. Hang in there.”
