Page 6 of Fresh Start
Mom hugged me and made me promise to call with an update, and my dad walked me to the driveway. When we got to my car, he stood back and admired the rental.
“A Bentley, huh? My boy’s got taste and style,” he said and slapped me on the back again.
“Well, I gotta make something out of all my hard work,” I said defensively. I didn’t know why.
“Yeah, you do. You work hard, so you deserve to spoil yourself,” Dad said.
I unlocked the car and got in.
“You know, you don’t have to lock your car around here. It’s weird, but once you’ve been here for a while, you get used to it,” he said and leaned into my window, taking a look at the interior.
“I’m only staying a week, Dad. But I’ll make sure it isn’t the last time I visit,” I said and turned the key on the ignition.
“It’s good to see you, Son. I’m glad you came,” he replied, and I nodded as I reversed the car onto the main road.
I drove off before he could see the unshed tears pooling in my eyes.
The town was only a ten-minute drive away, but as predicted, all the hotels and inns were fully booked. I’d been so stupid to come all this way without checking things first. Karen could have helped me book something. It was my fault, of course.
It was incredible how many hotel rooms and bed & breakfasts a small town like that could have. And they were all at capacity. Just my luck, wasn’t it? It should teach me for leaving things to the last minute. I might be Dawson Eldred, Hollywood A-lister out there in front of the lights and the cameras, but here? I was just Dawson.
I walked along the seafront, taking the scenery in. Most shops were closed, but the few bars and restaurants that were open were buzzing with locals and tourists alike. The walkway was pebbled, and there were benches dotted at equal lengths that overlooked Mobjack Bay.
At the other end of the town square, I caught a glimpse of a large house with cables of fairy lights stretching from the center over the front door to the trees opposite. I approached it, intrigued by the luminescent décor, and when I reached the main entrance, I read the sign over the front door.
Melody’s Bed & Breakfast.
Not really believing there would be any space in the most prominent building I’d seen along the promenade, I walked in and braced myself for rejection.
A woman who looked to be in her late thirties, with long black curls and the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen, looked up at me from a little desk that served as a reception area.
“Hello. Welcome to Melody’s. I’m Melody. How can I help?” she asked.
Her face reminded me of someone, yet I couldn’t decide who, and I definitely hadn’t met this woman before. It was going to bug me for a long time until I could figure it out.
“Well, I know it’s a long shot, but I’m looking for a room,” I said. “Even if it’s only for the night.”
Melody stood up and came round to my side.
“You’re a very lucky man. I just had a cancellation call in. How long are you staying?”
Thatwaslucky indeed.
Two
Leo
“Leo Karras should have stayed in the collective memory of Britain as the boy band heart-throb and steered clear of the West End because his latest debut on the stage is nothing short of a shambles. Stick to what you know, Leo. We’ll all be better for it,” I read in the paper I’d picked up on my way to the coffee shop.
My fists curled around the pages, making it crumple, and my eyes blurred, the lines of the review blending together into a chaos of letters. What more could I do? Was there even anything I could do, or should do, and would it even change the critics’ opinion of me?
“Next,” shouted the barista, and it took a couple of tries before I realized he was talking to me, and I moved to stand in front of him. “What can I get for ya, mate?”
I browsed the board over him, reading all the artisan coffees they served even though I knew very well I’d go for my usual. A woman tutted behind me, and I put the newspaper down.
“I’ll have a caramel iced latte with cream, please,” I said and tapped my card on the card machine, then joined the queue of people waiting for their drinks.
Even though the paper was now resting at the bottom of the trash in the shop, the words danced in front of me everywhere I looked. It was a catch-22. Everything I did. No matter how good I thought I was, no matter how much the fans loved me, I couldn’t catch a break.
