The Pact (Blue Moon Bay Romance Book 0) Read online

  “Sorry.” Simone coughed, to cover a final chuckle, and moved to Roxy. “I know exactly what I’m asking, and how much of a risk you’d be taking if you said yes. But I really want you to say yes, Roxy.” She glanced over at Belle. “I really want my best friends with me.”

  “Damn it,” Roxy muttered. And Simone knew she had one of them. “If Belle goes, I’ll go.”

  “Thank you for laying all the responsibility on me.”

  Roxy grinned. “That’s what friends are for, Annabelle.”

  “Okay, Roxanne.” Belle smiled when Roxy flinched. “I say yes.”

  Simone swallowed, looking at each of them. “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, hell no.” Belle smiled when Simone blinked at her. Belle hardly ever cursed—that was Roxy’s territory. “But I’m willing to give it a shot.”

  “Well.” Simone sat, staring at her hands. “I did find a place that could possibly work for the store.”

  “Did you?” Roxy’s tone told Simone the expression she’d see—if she found the courage and met her friend’s gaze. “How convenient.”

  “Dial it down, Roxy.” Belle crouched in front of Simone. “Did this place look promising?”

  “It’s on the main street, leading to the bay, a three story house that was converted to retail space, according to the real estate agent. Yes, I talked to an agent, Roxy.” She finally looked over at her friend, who had the skeptical expression she expected. “I’m going, with or without you. I’d prefer with.”

  “Maybe we could go and take a look,” Belle said. She stood and moved over to Roxy. “A long weekend, just to get a feel for the place. What do you think?”

  “That you’re both certifiable.” Roxy let out a noisy sigh. “Fine—stop giving me that wounded puppy look. I’ll go.”

  Three

  “It’s what?”

  Roxy stared at the real estate agent, both eyebrows raised.

  The woman lifted her chin. “I thought I mentioned it to Miss Channing when we first spoke. The house is—well, it’s cursed.” She looked at Simone. “I did tell you there was a reason for the low price, and—crap. I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “That must have been when my phone rang. We never did get back to it. My bad.”

  Simone spoke before Roxy could start shouting. Or cursing. “What exactly is this curse?”

  “Well.” The agent stared at her hands, her voice low. “It’s kind of an old legend, more than a curse. About something that happened in the house, sometime in the early part of the 20th century. No one really knows.”

  “How could you not know?” Roxy crossed her arms, and fought to rein in her annoyance. It wasn’t easy, with the obvious bullshit being thrown at them. “Wasn’t there news coverage? Books written about this supposed legend/curse? There’s always a book.”

  “As I said, no one knows, because there is no information on what happened. If there was at the time, it’s been buried by the people who were involved. Does that satisfy you?” For the first time, the agent started to lose her professional cool.

  Roxy knew she had that effect on people, especially when her temper was up. Like now. This trip had already turned sour, and they were only one day into it.

  “Roxy.” Simone stared at her, shock on her face. “There’s no need to browbeat her. She doesn’t know.”

  Roxy stalked over to the closest window. This building had a spectacular view of the bay. With the softer sunlight of early fall, and scattered clouds, the water was a deep blue today. Simone had told her on the way down the water color changed during the seasons, making it a unique feature of what had turned out to be a jewel box town.

  It pulled at Roxy, in a way no other place had. She wanted this—wanted a life that included warm summers, and an ever-changing view out the window of her own business. She loved fashion, but she was tired of the politics, and the backstabbing. This would give her the best of both; a chance to dress women in beautiful clothes, express her creativity, but do it her own way.

  Her reaction, her need, was so unexpected, she knew snapping at the real estate agent was a defense mechanism. But in her own defense, the woman did leave out that part about the building being cursed.

  The woman’s voice filtered in past her turbulent thoughts. “—need a decision soon. With a deal like this, it won’t stay on the market long. I already have several interested—ˮ

  “We’ll take it,” Roxy said. When she turned around, she met Simone and Belle’s shocked looks. “I know the ‘other interested parties’ line is real estate bullshit.” She smiled at the agent. “But you’re right about one thing—it is a deal. One I don’t want to pass up.” Simone shook her head, and Roxy crossed her arms, raising her eyebrow. “What?”

  “I expected you to be the naysayer in this craziness.”

  “I can’t like a beautiful town, where my money will go three times as far? I may be cynical, Simone, but I’m not stupid. This place is screaming for what you have in mind. With the three of us, we can make it a success.” She looked over at Belle, who hadn’t said a word since they walked into the building. “If all three of us are in.”

  “I—ˮ Belle turned away, and walked to another window on the other side of the huge space. “It’s just—it’s a big decision to make, without checking details, researching the market, having all the figures—ˮ

  “I get it.” Roxy pointed at the agent. “Out. We need to pow wow.”

  “Of course.” The woman didn’t even blink at Roxy’s rude behavior. She had obviously worked with hard ass clients. Three women would be a picnic compared to some of the men Roxy had been around in the fashion business. Men who bought houses like they were accessories. Their egos wouldn’t fit in this building. “I’ll wait outside, and have the paperwork ready. Just in case.” She flashed Roxy a smile that was both polite and fierce. Roxy could like this woman.

  “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Oh, I threw it. You weren’t paying attention.” She walked over to Roxy and held out her hand. “Alexa Reed, Reed Estate Sales. I hope you all decide to stay. Blue Moon Bay could use an infusion of class—and if I overheard correctly, your fashion on a budget idea would do quite well here. I know I’m not the only woman tired of fighting San Diego traffic to get a nice outfit. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

  She walked over to the stairs, and Roxy finally noticed her suit. Chanel. Alexa Reed’s shoes also bore the telltale red soles of Louboutin. God, how did she miss that? She’d been out of things too long, still recovering from her last job.

  A job with a sadistic chauvinist as boss, who enjoyed lording his control over every woman in the office. If he hadn’t fired her for correcting him when his mistake would have cost them thousands, she would have walked out after the current edition had gone to press.

  She lived and breathed fashion—had ever since she was old enough to hold her mom’s fashion magazines, wide-eyed and hooked from the first page. Fashion had become her life at a young age, along with the need to make her mark.

  Here, she could make that dream a reality. Give women fashion and style, show them how to create their own identity through fashion, while adding their personality.

  God, she wanted it—so badly she’d give up everything for a shot at it.

  Once the front door closed, Simone walked over to Belle, laying one hand on her shoulder. “Okay?”

  “Overwhelmed.” She faced Simone, her shoulders hunched, and a look Roxy recognized on her face. Belle was about to shoot Roxy’s dream down before it even got a chance. “I don’t think—ˮ

  “Stop thinking.” Roxy stalked across the room and grabbed Belle’s hand. “For once in your life, Miss Busy Mind, don’t think. Go with your gut. You want this as much as we do. I know you hate your job—don’t lie,” she said, when Belle opened her mouth. “You’ve been miserable for months. Now, you’ll have one client. Yourself. You’ll be in total control of the advertising, with clients who will let you take the lead. Most of the time.”

 
Belle stared up at her. “What do you see, Roxy? Why did you change your mind?”

  “A future, for all of us. A chance to walk away from old regrets, disappointments, heartaches.” She glanced over at Simone. “It’s a fresh start, Belle. One we create, without interference, and without men telling us what to do.”

  Belle flinched, and Roxy knew she’d hit a nerve. The new owner of the ad agency wasn’t all hearts and flowers, like Belle kept telling them. The dark circles under her eyes, and her lack of appetite gave her away, but Roxy wanted her to be the one to spill, without being forced into it.

  Roxy held out her other hand to Simone. After a hesitation that told Roxy her friend was no longer as sure, she took Roxy’s hand.

  “Roxy.” Simone rubbed her forehead—a dead giveaway of her nerves. “I’m not so sure about this. A building with a curse. Won’t it drive customers away?”

  “Not if we spin it right,” Belle said. Roxy met her eyes, and Belle nodded, squeezing her hand. “If you have a haunted hotel, or B&B, you milk that for all it’s worth. We can do the same here. Despite what Ms. Reed says, there has to be some information on what happened to give this place its reputation. Sounds like I’ll have to do some research.”

  “Have to. Right.” Roxy almost laughed at the gleam in her friend’s eyes. “You can do it here, while we set up the store. If you’re all in.” She looked over at Simone. “If we’re all in.”

  “I started this, so,” she swallowed, and finally nodded. “I’m in.”

  “Good.” Roxy flashed a fierce grin. “I won’t have to beat you into joining.”

  “Hilarious, Rox.” Simone freed her hand and headed for the stairs. “I’ll go get Ms. Reed, so we can sign the papers, before I lose my nerve.”

  “Are we really doing this?” Belle whispered. Her Louisiana was showing in her voice, big time.

  Roxy pulled her into a tight, fast hug. “We’re doing it. Emphasis on we. You’re not alone, Belle. We’ll support each other, haul each other up when one of us stumbles. We’re all going to stumble, more than once.”

  “Oh, God. I want this, Roxy,” she whispered, holding on to Roxy for a minute before she let go and stepped back, wiping at her cheeks. “The situation at the agency is getting worse every day. It’s reached the point where I dread walking into the office.”

  Roxy stepped back, holding her at arm’s length. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

  “Simone needed the attention more than I did.”

  “Stop thinking that way.” Roxy gave her a little shake. “From this second, we’re all equally important. Got it?”

  “Loud and clear.” Belle managed a pale version of her smile. “I do want to research a bit, before we leave. There has to be something here about what happened in this building. An old newspaper article, a police report, something.”

  “If anyone can find it.” Roxy squeezed her shoulders, and let her go. “Let’s go see what’s taking Simone and that real estate agent so long.” She strode across the space, to the stairs. “I want this building, and we’re not leaving until paperwork has been signed.”

  “How, exactly, are we going to pay for this place?” Belle joined her on the stairs, brown curls bouncing around her face. The salt air had turned them wild. Personally, Roxy thought she looked fabulous—like a sea nymph. The way Belle kept pushing at them told her that her friend didn’t share that opinion. “I can sell my condo, but that’s going to take time.”

  “I have some money set aside.” Enough to pay for the building herself, but she wasn’t going to tell her friends that. They needed to share the cost equally—and there was going to be so much more to spend money on before they were done. “It will be enough for a down payment. We can worry about the details after the building is ours.”

  “Roxy—you don’t—”

  “Later, worry wart.”

  She laughed at the sour look Belle gave her, then pushed the door open. Her freedom was in reach, and she wasn’t about to let it get away.

  Four

  It took some maneuvering, but Belle managed to keep her friends from following her to the local library. She liked to do her research alone.

  After she entered the stone building, she paused, taking in her surroundings, and breathing in the scent of books. Belle loved libraries, and had spent most of her lonely childhood roaming the stacks of her hometown library.

  This collection had her heart pounding with anticipation. She hadn’t expected such a large library, considering the size of the town. It gave her an idea of the people who lived here, and they obviously loved their books. Even with all her tech, nothing replaced the feel of a book in her hands.

  She spotted the reference counter, and walked over to it, forming her request in her mind.

  “Hi,” she said. The woman sitting behind the counter lifted her head, studying Belle with narrowed brown eyes. “I’m looking for old newspapers, local, on microfilm if you have it.”

  “The back room holds our microfilm collection. May I ask what you’re looking for?”

  Belle smiled. She’d already prepared her answer. “I’m thinking of moving here, and I wanted to find out more about Blue Moon Bay. I love history.”

  The librarian’s suspicion faded. “I understand completely. Here.” She pulled a sheet of paper out of a drawer next to her. “This is a list of all the local papers, going back to the turn of the 20th century. Enjoy.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “Is that Louisiana I hear in your voice?”

  Belle smiled. “It is. I thought I’d gotten rid of it, but my past sneaks out when I least expect it.”

  “I find it quite charming.”

  “So do I.” The deep, masculine voice froze Belle. After watching her best friend Simone all but destroyed by her ass of a fiancé, Belle wanted nothing to do with men. When she didn’t turn around, the voice’s owner leaned against the counter and smiled at her. Lord help her, he was tall, and so good looking she had trouble catching her breath. “I don’t remember seeing you around before, gorgeous.”

  No men, Belle.

  She ignored him, and thanked the librarian again before she turned away from the counter. Away from temptation. Unfortunately, temptation’s long legs gave him the advantage, and he blocked her path.

  She forced herself to meet his eyes—and wished she hadn’t. He had deep blue eyes, to go along with his dark, wavy hair. A deadly combination for her. “Excuse me.”

  “No need, gorgeous.” He held out his hand. “Ian Cooper, and I am at your service.”

  “I don’t need your service.” Her drawl came out stronger than she expected—which told her that he affected her more than she wanted.

  “Well, well—a Southern belle.” When Belle flinched, he smiled, crossing his arms. “Looks like I hit a nerve.”

  “You don’t know me, so anything you say is a guess.” This time, she controlled her voice, and it came out cold, clipped—like it did every time she spoke to her soon-to-be former boss. “Please remove yourself from my path. I have things to do.”

  “She’s quite the spitfire, isn’t she, Hannah?”

  The librarian snorted. “Your charms aren’t working on her, Ian. Give up before you embarrass yourself.”

  He bowed, then gave Belle a smile that made her toes curl. Why did he have to be so beautiful? “Another time, gorgeous. Enjoy our library.”

  He winked at her, and walked out, just in time. Belle’s knees wanted to give way.

  What the hell is wrong with me? He’s a stranger—one I’ll make sure I don’t cross paths with again.

  As tall as he was, he’d be easy to avoid. Besides, he would never have a reason to come into their store.

  Belle pushed him out of her mind, with more effort than she liked, and headed for the microfilm room. Time to learn more about their future home.

  ~

  Bleary-eyed, and a little nauseated from scanning the microfilm, Belle stumbled out of the library, surprised to see that
the sun was setting. She’d been in there longer than she thought.

  Simone and Roxy were across the street, sitting at a table in front of a small, charming café. The thought of food made Belle’s stomach growl, and she crossed the street, surprised by the lack of traffic.

  “Sorry,” she said when she reached the table. “I lost track of time. Where is everyone?”

  Simone smiled. “It’s after eight, sweetie, in a small town. You’re looking at a normal weekday evening.”

  “But it’s Friday night—people should be out, shouldn’t they?”

  Simone stood, and turned her until she faced the pier. It was lit up, at least two restaurants filled with chatting groups of people. More people walked the length of the pier, couples huddled together at the wood rail, or sitting on one of the benches that lined the length of the pier.

  “That’s where Blue Moon Bay nightlife is,” Simone said. “Another reason the building is such an ideal location. Being on the corner of the street leading up from the pier is going to give us so much exposure—for both locals and visitors. Everyone goes to the pier.”

  “You already have us hooked,” Roxy said. “No need for the hard sell.”

  Simone flashed her a grin. Belle hadn’t seen her smile like that since the wedding disaster. Just being here seemed to ease the pain Belle knew her friend still carried. She understood why Simone was drawn to this place, and why San Francisco would be easy to leave.

  The ability to walk across the street without taking her life into her hands appealed to Belle more than she thought it would.

  “Okay.” Simone guided Belle to the third chair, then sat. “Spill—what did you find?”

  “Nothing.” Belle let out a tired sigh, and rubbed her eyes. “Except for a small mention of a police report about missing jewelry, back in the 1920s, I found nothing.” She leaned forward and took a long sip of the green tea they had ordered for her. “It looks like someone scrubbed the records. And they were thorough; I checked every paper that might have carried a story, and I found the same thing. Holes. Well covered holes, if someone wasn’t looking for them, but definite holes.”