Anna
The front porchlight glowed warm and welcoming, but I still sat in my car, hands gripping the steering wheel for a full minute, like I was bracing for impact.
It was just a girls’ night. Drinks. Snacks—of which I’d brought both sweet and savory since I didn’t know what they liked. Hopefully, some laughs. No big deal.
Except it felt very much like a big deal.
I hadn’t hung out with any of them since high school. Not since my name meant something other thanMason’s wife. And even though Bristol had included me, the weight of the awkward girl I once was came rushing back.
I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. I’d dressed casually. Light makeup. Light curls. Jeans paired with a loose top—cute, comfortable, and exactly the kind that would have made Mason roll his eyes.
I grabbed the plates of bruschetta and lemon bars I’d made, squared my shoulders, and stepped out of the car. Before I even made it up the front steps, the front doorflew open.
A woman I didn’t recognize leaned against the door frame, a half-full glass in her hand. Her glossy ponytail, perfect makeup, and blazer with jeans made her look like she’d just stepped out of a lifestyle blog—until she smirked.
“You coming in, or are you still rehearsing how this evening’s going to pan out?” she asked. “No judgment. I’ve done the same.”
I blinked, momentarily thrown off, but her tone was more amused than hostile.
A breath of laughter slipped out. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I had an audience.”
“You don’t,” she said, waving her glass. “I just got up for a refill and spotted you. I was hoping you weren’t going to make a run for it. Us non-locals have to stick together, you know.”
“I’m Anna. I used to live here, but it’s been a while.”
“Paige,” she said, stepping aside to let me in. “Bristol’s best friend and professional chaos wrangler. I don’t bite. Unless it’s the last piece of chocolate. Then it’s every woman for herself.”
Recognition clicked. She ran the salon side of the business with Bristol. I’d heard of her in passing, but never expected her to be this…funny. Something about her energy and irreverence made me feel like I didn’t have to try as hard here.
“It’s not chocolate, but hopefully, you won’t hold that against me.” I held out the plates wrapped in Saran Wrap.
She peeked at the plates and gave a low whistle. “Bruschettaandlemon bars? Oh, we’re absolutely friends now. Forget chocolate. In fact, we should ditch the rest of them and eat these ourselves.”
“Now Paige,” another voice piped up, “no kidnapping our new friend.”
Another woman stepped into the foyer. Her smile lit up the space before she even spoke. Everything from the multiple bangles jingling on her arms to her bright pink lipstick said she was someone who exuded confidence. The kind of person who sparkled not because she was trying, but just because she couldn’t help it.
“Anna! I’m so glad Bristol talked you into coming. Welcome.” She reached out and clasped my hand in both of hers like we were already close friends. “We met briefly once before, but I know it’s overwhelming to remember so many names. I’m Megan.”
Her greeting was so effortless and genuine that my nerves instantly relaxed.
“Thank you. I’m grateful to be included.”
“I’ll take these,” Paige said, slipping the plates from my hand and turning toward the front door as if she might actually carry through with her earlier idea.
“Paige Hartfeld, you put those in the living room with everything else,” Megan warned, her bracelets clinking as her hands flew to her hips.
Paige winked over her shoulder. “It was worth a try.” She spun around and headed in the opposite direction.
“We’re all set up in the living room,” Megan said, shaking her head as she watched Paige disappear down the hallway.
I followed her through the foyer, the hum of voices growing louder as I stepped into the living room. The house had pops of color in every direction—sunny yellows, soft blues, and bold patterns on throw pillows and paintings. Like the people who lived here weren’t afraid to embrace life. It was a stylish room that could be in a magazine, yet still felt warm and homey.
Em and Bristol sat on the couch talking to anotherwoman whom I recognized as the real estate agent I’d spoken to about finding a place to live. Teagan, I believed her name was.
Paige set the plates down, and Em immediately snatched up a piece of bruschetta. “Oh, my,” she said, closing her eyes after she took a bite. “I can’t believe Chase got to you first. I could really use you at the restaurant we’re opening.”
Her welcome did wonders to make my nerves settle. “I’m happy to share recipes. Maybe we can swap a few.”
