Page 17 of The Small-Town Seduction Plan

“Your photos are amazing,” I insist. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful you’re slumming it helping out with my social media for now, but we both know, you’re made for bigger things. Which we can investigate. In person. When you visit.”

Brooke laughs. “I get the hint. Let me check with Tate. He’s studying for his boards,” she explains, naming her long-time boyfriend. Tate is training to be a surgeon, doing his residency at a hospital in Boston. Which means he’s busy 24/7, while Brooke’s working two jobs to support them both. “He really needs me right now,” she adds. “I swear, if I wasn’t around, he’d forget to feed himself or do laundry!”

I bite my tongue to keep from saying that Tate is a grown man who should do his own damn laundry.

I’m biting my tongue a lot these days when it comes to Tate.

“Well, you just say the word, and I have a lurid pink guest room waiting for you,” I say invitingly. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

“Avery!”

The sound of my name being called makes me turn.

“Who’s that?” Brooke asks. “A crazed fan?”

“No.” I brace myself. “Worse. I’ve got to go.”

I hang up, just as Tessa Ritchie power walks across the beach to me, waving happily. She’s dressed in mismatched print pants with a loose linen shirt, an oversized straw sunhat jammed over her sun-bleached curls. “There you are!” she greets me. “I heard a rumor you were back in town, but they also said Oprah was spotted browsing croissants at the bakery and we know that woman is off carbs again, so I swore I wouldn’t believe it until I saw you for myself.” Before I can react, she launches herself at me in an enthusiastic hug. “What’s going on?” she demands, friendly. “How have you been?”

I catch my breath. “I’m great,” I declare, fixing a big smile on my face. “Things have been so crazy with work and everything, so I figured I’d get away. Change of scene, you know. And this place was always so charming when we did the movie, it seemed like the perfect vacation spot to relax.”

I give another breezy, ‘scandal? What scandal?’ smile, but Tessa is no dummy.

“I saw the headlines,” she says, looking sympathetic. “Although, you’re looking pretty good for someone who’s just undergone cryogenic freezing to suck the fat out of their ass,” she adds with a teasing smirk. “While also having a torrid three-way with half of some boyband.”

“And training to be a nun,” I add, naming another tabloid rumor. “I’m pretty booked up these days!”

Tessa laughs. She’s no stranger to gossip and speculation. She rekindled a teenage fling with the actor Jackson Kane last summer while we were in town filming the movie, and had photographers camped out in the front yard of the B&B she was restoring.

“How’s business?” I ask, as she falls into step beside me, heading back up to the shore road.

“Great. Busy. Exhausting,” she says, clearly pleased. “I can’t keep up with the bookings, we have guests coming from all over. There’s even a group coming in next week for a CSI fan club reunion.”

“You’re kidding!” I laugh. “What does that even involve?”

“I’m googling to find out,” Tessa confides. “Solving crimes and squinting over their sunglasses, maybe?”

“Well, good luck to you.”

“You know, we should catch up properly,” Tessa declares, with a determined gleam in her eye. “Jackson’s off doing promo for a movie right now, but he’ll be back soon, and— oooh!” she brightens. “You can come to craft night, at the B&B, tonight!”

“I’m… not really crafty,” I demur, but she shakes her head.

“Nobody is. It’s just our excuse to get together, drink, and gossip. Come,” she insists. “It’ll be fun, I promise. Super low key.”

I pause. The truth is, I’ve been getting kind of lonely, stuck hiding out at the cottage. Tessa has always been nice to me – especially considering it was my job to make out with her boyfriend in wet lingerie. Now, the thought of some company for the evening is too inviting to resist.

“OK,” I find myself agreeing. “I’ll be there. Do I need to bring anything?”

“Just yourself, and something to soak up the booze.” Tessa beams. “Linette Walters makes a mean rum punch.”

* * *

What do you wear to a crafting-slash-drunken gossip session? I deliberate over my wardrobe for way too long that evening, before finally picking out a pair of casual linen pants and a simple tank top. It’s still warm out, so I walk over to the Sandpiper B&B with an adult needlepoint kit and a Tupperware container of homemade mini-quiche.

It’s been a while since I’ve been to a potluck, but I figure you can’t go wrong with cheese and carbs.

Vegan cheese, and gluten-free carbs, but still.

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