She stepped under the canopy and onto the circular white flagstone drive and headed north. When the sun peeked out from a chubby marshmallow cloud, she suddenly realized she wasn’t wearing a hat to protect her scar. She released the clip that held her long, wavy hair in a loose chignon and let it cascade onto her face. Instant sunscreen.
Minna Presley drove by in one of the hotel’s golf carts and Liz waved hello. Minna waved back, her short spiky hair and brightly colored geometric print spandex dress clinging snugly to her lean body. Six months ago, Minna had been talked into going in fifty-fifty with her buddy Francie on the rental of the emporium shop Home Arts by the Sea. Forty-something Minna certainly didn’t need the money. She had a large following for her one-of-a-kind mixed media art and was featured in numerous galleries in the area. Minna was considered a VIP in nearby Vero Beach, known for its art community, galleries, and multimillionaire residents.
Thinking about Minna’s celebrity status, Liz remembered that tomorrow there would be a juried showcase at Home Arts by the Sea of Minna and Francie’s clients’ works. Kate planned on having a buy-one-get-one-free used book sale at Books & Browsery by the Sea, and Aunt Amelia had talked Brittany into hiring a few models to meander around the emporium dressed in Sirens by the Sea clothing and jewelry.
Pops would be supplying a wine-and-cheese tasting at Deli-casies by the Sea. In his youth, he’d been a sommelier at Brooklyn’s Peter Luger Steak House, and his selection of cheeses was becoming legendary in the Melbourne Beach area. Because of his recent knee surgery, she’d promised Pops that she would help with the wine tasting. Now that his grandson was in town, she doubted her services would be needed.
Liz turned left at the end of the driveway. There were five cars in the emporium’s parking lot. Under a sign that read Indialantic by the Sea Emporium, were mammoth double-arched doors. She opened the door on the left and stepped into the foyer. She corralled her unruly mop of hair and clipped it up into a messy bun. A lock of hair fell onto her right cheek, covering her scar. Instead of leaving it there, she poked it back up inside her hair clip. Her therapist had warned her that she needed to be fearless, and that every time she looked at her reflection, she should thank her lucky stars she had a face to look at. Things could have turned out so much worse.
Liz marveled at the way the emporium had come together. The first-floor space had once housed the Indialantic’s grand ballroom, men’s smoking lounge, and billiards room. The second floor had been demolished and a two-story wall was erected on the south side of the building. The shops now had an open-air setting. Four-foot walls separated each shop from another, encouraging customers to meander and interact. Stucco walls extended up to a buttressed ceiling that came to a peak, like those in an old Spanish mission, and suspended from the pierced-tin tiled ceiling in the foyer was a huge Baccarat glass chandelier that had formerly hung in the hotel’s ballroom.
Across from the windows that looked out at the old clay tennis courts was Brittany Poole’s shop, Sirens by the Sea. A chain was up across the entrance, and the accessory showcases were dark. Liz didn’t see Brittany, just four mannequins waiting to be clothed.
When she’d returned home from New York, she was surprised to find out that Brittany had rented a space for her women’s clothing shop. On her first time in, Liz asked Brittany the price of an unticketed turquoise and silver ankle bracelet. Brittany had made it clear that their feud was still ongoing. She’d replied, “One hundred forty-five dollars for everyone else, one hundred eighty for you.” Then Brittany picked up her phone and ordered a two-thousand-dollar pastel gossamer cocktail dress. Liz doubted anyone else was on the other end of the line.
She’d known Brittany since elementary school. Once, she’d invited Brittany over for a playdate. After Brittany left, Liz realized a few things were missing from her room. She waited until she was invited to Brittany’s house, then, when Brittany left the room, she searched under Brittany’s bed. Liz found two Nancy Drews, her To Kill a Mockingbird book that had belonged to her mother, a box filled with her favorite seashells collected along the barrier island’s shoreline, and a framed photo of Liz’s father from law school. When her father came to pick her up, Liz went on a rampage of indignation, filling him in on every last detail of Brittany’s act of high thievery. He’d been empathetic—only not to her, but to Brittany. He explained that Brittany was jealous of Liz’s close relationship with him because she’d never known her own father. Mrs. Poole was a single mother who worked twelve-hour shifts at a Melbourne Beach grocery store. And if there was one thing defense attorney Fenton Holt was known for, it was his compassion for the less fortunate.
On top of Brittany’s childhood exploits, there was a very brief time in high school when Brittany had dated Kate’s older brother, Skylar. Skylar had been like a brother to Liz, and Brittany had tried to thwart their friendship at every turn.
