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I’m an idiot.
One hundred percent a complete idiot.
I should have put it together sooner with all the cello music floating around the mountain.
As I pull my phone from my back pocket, I realize I don’t know her last name, but it hits me to look at Avery’s social media accounts. Since they’re friends and work together, she’ll certainly be tagged in one or two posts, but I’m surprised when the page finally opens, and she isn’t in just a couple but at least half of them. Some of the pictures are casual, but some are from performances, and she looks so beautiful that it takes my breath away.
“No shit,” I mumble to myself as I stop walking and stare at the images, feeling annoyed that I’m a little bit in awe of her.
Avery, Emma, and Cora, the superstar music trio.
How did I not put this together sooner? All signs were pointing and glaring at the obvious. In addition to Ash, I’d seen Emma around town with Clay. If someone told me Dan from Dan and Shay had moved to town, and I met someone named Shay, I’d do a double take. The same with the Avett Brothers. If Scott Avett moved to town, and suddenly, there was a newcomer named Seth, I’d question it. So why didn’t I when I heard the name Cora? She even looks like a superstar with her long, toned legs and perfect blonde hair, and as much as I don’t want to fan over her, in a way, I am.
My feet start moving again as I continue to walk back toward the trees and scroll through the pictures. There are so many of them that it’s a feast for my eyes, and an out-of-character wave of remorse hits me. I’m trying hard not to feel inadequate about how I behaved around her or turned on by what I’ve seen, but I’m failing. I can’t imagine very many people have seen her naked.
Well, almost naked.
But I have, and unconsciously, I wipe my hand over my face and quickly let the flashbacks of her gorgeous body play through my mind.
Tapping on one of the images, I see she’s tagged and click over to her page. Cora Rhodes. That’s her name. Her buying a house here in Horizons Valley now makes complete sense. Both of her friends are here. But why didn’t she buy down on the lake like every other vacationer?
Then I go to Google and type in her name. Alongside all of her music accolades are articles about her and her family.
I stop walking again.
Her father is Richard Rhodes. Son of Winston Rhodes Sr. It turns out I know their names as well. Richard became an American billionaire after being recently appointed chair and CEO of Rhodes, a privately held, family-run business that his father started in New York City that develops and manages real estate. He is said to be one of the biggest landlords in the New York Tri-State area. His son, also named Winston, is his number two.
Huh.
It takes a lot to surprise me, but this here did it. It’s more plausible to me to have a music star living next door than this wealthy Upper East Side princess.
Maybe I don’t feel so bad after all.
I can’t help but shake my head. I’m not even sure what for either. It’s not like we were going to be friends. And now my behavior makes more sense. I’m not usually unkind to people, but clearly, my instincts were taking over when it comes to her. Aside from the pop star fame, after years and years of living in the same type of world, I’m familiar with her type: rich, pretentious, fake.
8
CORA
I’m still fuming when we reach the nursery, and I don’t know why. Is it because I was forced to see his face today, and I wasn’t prepared? Is it a little because I feel like my friends betrayed me by consorting with the enemy? Or is it because my feelings are hurt that he’s apparently nice to everyone else, just not me? I did nothing but try to be neighborly, and he’s the worst neighbor ever.
As I breathe in the late summer air that’s humid but clean, I realize after my run-in with him that being at a nursery is exactly what I need. This nursery is new to me. I thought the two I had found were it, but this one Juliet brought us to is just one town over, and it’s so cute. The anger coursing through me suddenly drifts away, and my heart overflows with distraction by the potential for my yard and my porch.
“How did you find this place?” I ask her, looking at the sample back porch they have decorated and displayed. It’s just calling me to go sit and stay a while.
“Don’t forget, I’m from here,” she says as she runs her fingers over the bright yellow petals of a mum plant. I already know I’ll be back next month as I prepare to decorate for fall. The possibilities feel endless.
“You do realize there’s not much summer left for plants. You’re going to spend all this money, and then they’ll die in just a few months,” Avery says. She’s not surprised that we’re here. After all, she knows me, but she knows nothing about plants.
“We’re not here for this summer. We’re here for next spring. I want to buy some daffodil bulbs to plant at the entrance of my driveway. I’m also considering them for around the perimeter of the yard. I read that deer don’t like them.”
Juliet chuckles, and Avery turns away. After we left the cider house, Juliet filled her in on Briggs’s prank, which she thought was hilarious.
“I know, I know. You think what he did was funny. And if I step back and stand in your shoes, I would think so too. But still, he’s insufferable.”
He had some nerve to stand there in front of my friends and act like they were his. With his dumb hat on backward, his T-shirt perfectly molding to his chest, and his white teeth that peeked out every time he smirked at me . . . I want to punch him in his pretty face.
“You did start this,” Juliet reminds me, and I hum in agreement.
