Page 91 of The Serendipity

I hired him on the spot, and he’ll start working next week from the parlor downstairs, a room that’s seldom used. It has a great conference table, a strong Wi-Fi signal, and it overlooks the pool. It’s a salaried position but does not include living arrangements.

Meanwhile, Willa pitched me the idea of renting out the basement apartment. I can’t see anyone being thrilled about being the only resident paying to live in the basement next to a storage area. But Willa thinks that the outside entrance, leading up to the pocket park next to The Serendipity, makes the apartment unique. We’ll see.

“There will still be a lot for me to do, just from afar,” I say. “You’ve practically been running everything on your own for the last five years anyway. And doing a fine job of it.”

“A compliment,” Bellamy says, plucking another cookie from his box. “I like the effect Willa has on you.”

I do too.

“You don’t think things are moving too quickly?” I ask. My phone dings, and I’m thrilled to see a message from the train seller, who accepted my offer. “Excellent.”

“What’s excellent?”

I look up. “Oh—just a train thing for Willa’s father. Don’t worry about it.”

Bellamy leans back in his chair, crossing his legs and grinning up at the bright blue sky. “Oh, I’m far from worried. I feel certain that you’re on a path toward something greater, and I love it.”

My mind goes to the question I had recently about Bellamy. “Can I ask you something? It’s personal.”

Without turning his face away from the sun, Bellamy says, “Go right ahead.”

“Is there a particular reason you’re still single?”

He hums, crossing and recrossing his legs before he answers. “There was someone—a long time ago. I made poor choices and lived to regret it.”

I want to press him, but it’s clear he’s said all he wants to say. At least for now. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. I’ve had years to make my peace. And make peace I did. As it turns out, I’m more content alone than I would be if I married someone who wasn’ther.” Now, he turns to look at me, flipping his sunglasses up on top of his white hair. “So, I’d urge you to consider your own contentment and make choices you can live with for a long time.”

“Noted,” I say lightly, though his words have sunk in deep.

“How are you doing with the trial? It’s in three days, and you haven’t mentioned it,” Bellamy says, and now I’m the one turning my face up to the sun, eyes closed and heat warming my cheeks even as a deep chill moves through me.

“Fine,” I tell him, willing the word to be true.

The trial has been lurking in the back of my mind, a shadow looming larger as the date approaches. I don’t want to deal with the media circus again. Or with testifying—something I wouldn’t be doing had I not been subpoenaed.

But what I really don’t want is to see my father.

“Have you told Willa? Or asked her to come with you?”

I swallow, remembering Willa’s face as she told me how she’s unable to leave Serendipity Springs. “I wouldn’t subject her to the circus that my father’s trial will be.”

“She’d come to support you. Just ask her.”

“We’ll see,” I tell him, and I’m grateful when someone clearing their throat nearby interrupts us. Just thinking about the trial has me feeling a spike in my blood pressure.

The Hathaways stand near our deck chairs. Norman is wearing an old-fashioned bowler hat with a flower on the brim, the same light lilac as his wife’s hair. They’re both smiling widely.

I see them around the building a lot. Always together. Always with their arms linked as he leans on his cane.

“We don’t mean to disturb you,” Jane says, smiling.

“She says while disturbing him.” Norman chuckles and shakes his head. “We wanted to come by and introduce ourselves to your friend. And my wife thought the more we talked to you, the harder it would be to kick us out of the building.”

Well, that’s direct. Bellamy stifles a chuckle behind me. “This is Bellamy. And I don’t plan to kick anyone out of the building.”

“But that’s exactly what you’re doing by raising the rent.” Jane’s smile is soft and her voice sweet, but I get the very distinct impression she’s a shark underneath. At least, when she needs to be. “It’s just more passive than actually sending out eviction letters so you can feel better about yourself and sleep better at night.”

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