Page 1 of Lost Memories (Secrets of Mackinac Island 1)

Chapter One

Elise Darby sat ona light pink blanket atop the sands of Malibu Pier on a glittering morning in early August. A cup of coffee steamed to her left; a green smoothie caught the California light beside it; her screenplay, newly fine-tuned and already in the hands of her agent, fluttered across her lap. Her heart performed a little skip as she read over it for the hundredth time.

Today, after four years of writing, editing, and fine-tuning— today was the day she would finally sell the thing.

And her agent had suggested upwards of half a million in the purchase.

Finally, finally, Elise Darby would look in the mirror and recognize herself as the powerful, creative force she had always thought herself to be.

No: she was no longer that scrappy, hungry twenty-something, selling screenplays right and left. She was now forty-two, in fact—still youthful-looking, according to many, with dirty blonde hair which was dyed at this point, bright green eyes, and an athletic figure, which she kept up with yoga, running, barre classes, and, of course, morning green smoothies.

She was forty-two, fresh off a divorce from Sean Fletcher, who she had been married to for over two decades; forty-two, entering a brand-new chapter of her life. An empty-nester, with her twin children both at college, a prosperous screenwriter in her own right, no longer living off the back of her twenty-something success. Forty-two, on her own. Forty-two and unwilling to give up.

Elise had grown up in Calabasas, a city in the hills west of the San Fernando Valley, located in Los Angeles. Like her mother, Allison, before her, she was a California girl through-and-through. There was nothing she liked more than a morning cup of coffee by the water, watching as the waves rolled in from the western horizon. But already, it was eight-thirty, and her meeting crept closer. She sipped the last dregs of spinach from her smoothie and leaped up, checking her phone. Her daughter, Penny, had texted.

Penny: You’ll have to help me. I got an audition for that play. Panic!

Elise smiled inwardly. Like Elise’s mother, Penny had a flair for the dramatic and had decided to study acting at Berkley. Naturally, as Elise had lived her life as a screenwriter, she couldn’t very well tell Penny her hopes for being an actress were “outlandish.” Anyone in the world had just as much of a chance at making it as anyone else. Why not Penny?

Elise: You know I’ll run lines with you any time. I guess you’d better plan a trip back here!

Penny’s twin brother, Brad, was located nearby, at UCLA. Despite his proximity, he was busy with school, friends, his new girlfriend, and struggled to make it back home. Elise knew better than to lean heavily on her children, especially since the divorce had put both of them in a difficult situation. They still loved their father, despite his affair. Elise didn’t want them to think any differently—especially since Elise had never known her own father. It was a gift to have a father. Elise felt this in her soul.

Elise’s meeting with the head of the production company, as well as her agent, Courtney, was set to begin at the Hollywood office at one in the afternoon. Before she left Calabasas, Elise changed her clothes upwards of five times.The beige skirt with the short-sleeved turtleneck? No. Beige seemed too—what? Old-lady-ish?She furrowed her brow as she blinked at her extensive sandal collection. Was the manicure she had opted for several days before appropriate, now? This color, did it suit the hand of a second-chance screenwriter?

These were questions she couldn’t answer.

Finally, she dragged a stand-by black dress from the back shadows of the closet, tugged it over her head, and stabbed her feet into some gorgeous black booties. She donned some pale pink lip gloss, added some medium-sized gold hooped earrings, and assessed herself. When panicked, Elise knew better than to take fashion risks.

In the final year of their marriage, Sean, who had been knee-deep in his apparently emotional affair, had decided to purchase Elise a BMW. At the time, she had known something was amiss in her marriage, but she had kept herself busy with her screenplay, with her barre classes, and with her friends. She had thanked Sean endlessly for the BMW. He had told her, “Anything for the mother of my children.”

Maybe he had bought it to make himself feel less guilty. She got the nice car; he got the younger piece of—

No. Elise was done with her anger.

She drove the gorgeous silver BMW all the way to Hollywood and arrived at the offices approximately thirty minutes early. This left her jumpy and irritable. She glanced again at the screenplay and then told herself to stop and calm down. It wasn’t like her reading it, again and again, would alter the meeting. She had been in meetings like this many times. Probably, within the hour, they would make an offer.

Then, she would find a way to celebrate.Divorced and ready for a new life of success.

Courtney had worked as Elise’s agent for about a year. She was a thirty-something with an affinity for bubblegum and kitten heels. As Elise approached her outside the offices, she hurriedly removed her gum and safely deposited it in the nearest trash can. She then grinned broadly at Elise and wrapped her in a hug.

“Today’s the day!” she beamed. “And you’re looking beautiful as ever.” Courtney’s eyes traced down Elise’s black dress. “I really have to take a peek in your closet someday. There’s just something about you, LA-born women—always dressed to kill.”

Courtney was from Florida and tended to bring up the fact that she was an outsider a lot. Elise, who had never felt any drive to live anywhere else, imagined it was difficult to be so far from home.

“Come on. You’re a stunner,” Elise said. Her voice jumped around, proof of her nervousness.

Courtney and Elise entered the air-conditioned foyer. Elise shivered and glanced toward the massive modern-art sculpture in the center, which reflected the California sunshine. In her eyes, it was monstrous.

“Right this way,” the receptionist told them, before cutting back toward the far end of the building.

Elise and Courtney followed. She forced herself to remember the number of times Courtney had told her that the script was essentially “in the bag.”They’re super interested. Romcoms are in, especially ones about women on the older side. Nobody wants a twenty-something romance anymore. It’s too easy. None of the grit and grime and sadness of a middle-aged woman! That’s where the real madness starts.

When Elise and Courtney entered the office, Elise spotted her manuscript—all printed and formatted, in front of the head of the production offices. The guy was an early-thirty-something, wearing thick golden glasses and a blazer over a t-shirt.

“Elise. Great to meet you finally,” he said. “I’m Rex.”

Of course, his name was Rex.

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