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Chapter 1
Sophia – a woman who doesn’t want to go home no matter how good the moonshine is there
Sophia
My hands tighten on the steering wheel as I cross the bridge onto the island of Smuggler’s Hideaway. Moving back home isn’t where I expected to be at thirty. It definitely isn’t where I want to be. But here I am with all of my worldly belongings in my car anyway.
The sign for the small town of Smuggler’s Rest comes into view and my phone rings.
“You’re here!” Chloe’s voice echoes throughout the car.
“Are you spying on me?”
She giggles. “Welcome back to small town life.”
In other words, my best friend might not have been spying on me but someone from Smuggler’s Rest was. The news of my return with my tail tucked between my legs is inevitablyspreading throughout the town faster than news of free shots of moonshine at theRumrunnerbar.
“Don’t,” she orders.
“Don’t what?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re regretting your decision to move back home.”
This is the problem with being friends with someone since you were both in diapers and thought mudpies were the height of cuisine. They know everything about you, including why you don’t want to move back home.
“No one remembers what happened.”
I snort. Chloe’s a big, fat liar. The inhabitants of Smuggler’s Hideaway have long memories. And they love juicy gossip. There’s no way they’ve forgotten howhehumiliated me. My cheeks burn at the reminder.
“Yes, they do.”
“Screw ‘em. Who cares?”
I do. “Easy for you to say. No one would humiliate the beautiful, wild Chloe the way he did to me.”
“Beep! Wrong. Try again.”
I perk up. “Who humiliated you?”
“We’re not talking about me.”
“That’s a change,” I mutter.
“I know. I know. I’m the light of your life. The light of everyone’s life on the island but it’s not all about me.”
I giggle. “Your humbleness is humbling.”
“I am who I am.” She clears her throat. “Now stop being allpoor meand get your bum toBootlegger.We’re waiting for you.”
“Bootlegger? Why aren’t you atFive Fathoms?”
Five Fathoms Brewingis the brewery I founded with my four girlfriends. Although I’m one of the original owners, I haven’t had much to do with the brewery in recent years. While my friends worked their behinds off to build up the brewery, I was away in Atlanta chasing my career.
When business at the brewery took off this past year, my friends asked me to move home toSmuggler’s Hideawayto manage the marketing for the brand. I initially refused but then my career blew up in my face.
And I didn’t use a fire extinguisher the way a smart woman would. Instead, I fanned the flames. What would you do if some asshole stole credit for your work?
Silly me. I thought my boss would back me. The woman he recruited. The woman who landed several big accounts for his company. He didn’t. He humiliated me instead. And declared his nephew – the thieving, lying rat – a genius.
