Holiday in Danger (30 page)

“You’re sure?”

Alice grunted through a deep pull on Summer’s thigh. “Yes. You’re holding all your stress. Here—” she ran her hands up Summer’s back, “—and here.” Alice squeezed her shoulders. “I can’t fix this. You’ve got to figure it out on your own.”

On my own
. Summer groaned as the masseuse started in on her neck. The woman might not know her at all, but she was right. Summer’d taken all her uncertainty and doubt and turned her body into a ball of anxiety. How could she ever think coming back to Midnight Cove would be a good idea?

Summer lifted her head as Alice moved to the other side. “Have you ever woken up and realized you just made a huge mistake?”

The masseuse paused. “No. I make decisions carefully.”

Of course you do.
“Well, that’s my problem. I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“A man?”

Summer’s shoulders sagged. “Two.”

“Hmph. Don’t let them get to you. Do what’s best for you, not them.”

“What if I don’t know what that is?”

The masseuse paused. “Figure it out.”

Right
. Summer closed her eyes. She wasn’t going to get any sympathy or revelations out of Alice. Just a good rub down and a sore back. She closed her eyes and the next thing she knew, the masseuse was shaking her awake.

“All done.”

“Th—thanks.” Summer blinked and pulled up onto her forearms. Now she could add sleep wrinkles and table imprints to her list of problems.
Hooray!

After sitting up, she pulled on her clothes and slipped on flip-flops.
On to manicures.
She trudged out into the next room and Mandy’s voice almost knocked her over.

“There you are! What did you do, fall asleep in there?” Mandy motioned at the empty seat next to her.

“Maybe. Alice said I had knots not even she could get out.”

“Ooh. Honey. She’s a miracle worker. If she says you’re too tense, then you’ve got to let it go. There’s a yoga class at eleven.”

“Funny.” Summer flopped in the empty chair and let out a sigh. “You know I don’t do yoga. These thighs in those pants? No, thank you.”

“Well, maybe you should stop by the art store. Grab a canvas and some paints. That relaxes you, right?”

Summer smiled. Even the day before her wedding, Mandy was still thinking about how to make Summer feel better. She needed to get her head out of her own problems and focus on the bride. Summer couldn’t ask for a better best friend. “Have I told you lately how awesome you are? Because you’re totally awesome.”

Mandy grinned. “Not nearly enough.”

“Now look who we have here. If it isn’t the bride-to-be. Tell me I get artistic license. Wedding bells on your fingers and toes? Say yes.”

“You know it. I wouldn’t trust these digits with anyone else.” Mandy stood up and gave a woman who looked more like a tattoo artist than a nail tech a bear hug. “Summer, this is Felicia. Felicia, this is my maid of honor, Summer Crenshaw.”

Summer stood up and stuck out her hand but Felicia swooped in for a hug. The bracelets stacked up her arms clanged together like cymbals as she gave her a pat.

“So you’re the painter! The way Mandy tells it, you’ll be the next Picasso.”

Summer blushed. “I wouldn’t go that far. At this point, maybe a good house painter.”

“Pfft. Don’t be modest.” Felicia pulled up a chair and her bright pink hair slid over her shoulders. What a force. Between the vintage Clash t-shirt to the nose ring and more makeup than a clown at a show, she was intense.

Summer had expected prim. Polished. Bubbly, even. Not hippie meets punk rocker.

Felicia pulled up a rolling tray of tools and polish. “So what’ll it be for you. Dress color? Style? Hit me with it.”

“Um.” Summer blinked. “It’s simple. Aqua blue.”

“How about something like the ocean, then? Green to bring out your eyes, some blue, maybe a dash of white. What you do think, Mandy?”

“Sounds great!” Mandy reached out and gave Summer’s arm a squeeze. “Just wait ’til you see what Felicia can do. It’s spectacular.”

Summer nodded and gave Felicia a smile. She might not be a typical manicurist, but it was Midnight Cove. Artists and hippies mixed with the billionaires and celebrities every day. Without all the judgment of New York.

Summer exhaled and closed her eyes. She’d probably end up with bright blue nails and green tips. Something garish she’d have to hide beneath the bouquet as she walked down the aisle. But Mandy picked it.

She drifted off until Felicia’s voice startled Summer’s eyes open. “Other hand, please.”

Oh my God
. The woman didn’t just trim cuticles and slap on polish. She was an artist.

Instead of a simple paint job, she had five mini-canvases on her fingers. Swoops and swirls of greens and blues and whites. The perfect blend of her bridesmaid’s dress and her eyes.

Felicia had more talent with a tiny nail brush than Summer had with giant canvases. She leaned forward in her chair. “Wow. Where’d you learn to do this?”

The nail tech shrugged. “I went to SCAD.”

Summer’s heart skipped a beat.
She can’t be serious
. “The Savannah College of Art and Design? That SCAD?”

“The one and only.”

“W—what are you—” Summer clamped her hand over her mouth. In her shock, she’d been about to insult her for sure.

“Doing as a nail tech? It’s okay, you can ask.” Felicia dipped a new brush into a tiny pot of polish and waited.

After a second, Summer dropped her hand and put it back on the tray. “I’m sorry. That was so rude.”

“You bet it was.” Summer glanced up in time to see Mandy’s stink eye. “But it’s okay because Felicia’s a doll.”

“Thanks.” With a smile, Felicia set back to work, applying a base coat on each of Summer’s bare nails.

She knew she shouldn’t ask, but as she watched Felicia work, she couldn’t help it. “Okay. I can’t stand it. Why nail art?”

Felicia laughed. “Because I love it here. I get to wake up to the ocean out my window every morning. Paint people’s nails every day. Not deal with the assholes in a big city.”

“Did you always want to do nails?”

The tech snorted. “No. I went to college to be a fabric designer. Thought I’d be the next Tracy Reese.”

“So why the change?”

“The truth?” Felicia glanced up and Summer nodded. “I hate New York. It’s so crowded and dirty and full of people I can’t stand. All these snooty industry types telling me I have to dress this way and talk that way and work my way up from the bottom. Screw that. I’d much rather live here.”

Summer picked her jaw up off the floor. “What about the tuition and your family and all of that? Aren’t they…”

“Disappointed? No. My mom’s a total hippie. Had me on a commune in Santa Barbara.” Felicia opened another polish and scooted closer. “I don’t have a dad. It’s pretty much just me and my cat these days. And Muffin couldn’t be prouder. Where else can he get fresh fish for dinner?”

Summer couldn’t believe it. “That’s so…”

“Pathetic?”

“Courageous. I can’t even manage the cat part.”

Felicia laughed. “Allergic?”

Mandy butted in. “No. She lives in one of those stuck-up apartments in New York. You know—one with a white gloved doorman and more rules than tenants.”

Felicia’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I just figured—since you’re friends with Mandy—”

“Pfft. Don’t even go there,” Mandy waved her off. “Summer needs a good kick in the ass. Isn’t that right?”

Color spread up Summer’s cheeks. “Maybe.”

“Really? What’s wrong with New York?”

“I’m not having much luck with the whole painting thing.”

“Why not?”

She let out a breath. “That’s a good question. To be honest? Probably because my heart’s not in it. It’s all modernist stuff these days. Not my style.”

“Then why are you there?”

Summer’s phone buzzed on the tray. She glanced down and almost burst out laughing.

“Let me guess, it’s your mom.” Mandy pointed at the phone. “You want to know why she’s in New York? That woman, right there. She’s got this whole crazy path for Summer all laid out. Heaven forbid she make her own way.”

“That sucks.”

Summer frowned. It was one thing to confess your doubts to your best friend, but to have her parade them in front of a woman with pink hair and a skirt made of hemp? “It’s not that bad.”

“It is too! If it weren’t for your mother, you wouldn’t be freaking out over Blake and Devin.”

“Who’re Blake and Devin?”

Mandy rolled her eyes. “You know. The surf shop boys.”

Felicia put down her brush and glanced at Summer. “The sexy as sin surfers down the street? How do you even know them if you live in New York?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Honey, I’m a nail tech. I’ve got nothing but time.”

Summer glanced at Mandy. If only she’d inherited a super power. Death rays, Instamatic flu, a case of the willies. Maybe she could fake a fainting spell.

“Come on, out with it. If you don’t talk, I will.” Mandy crossed her arms and Summer groaned. If she let Mandy run with it, Felicia would hear about way more than her man troubles. Some details needed to stay between friends.

“Fine. I might have a thing for two guys.”

“Oh my God, that’s my dream come true.”

“Right. I’m sure being a complete slut and embarrassing yourself by sleeping with two men is top on your list.”

Felicia raised an eyebrow. “Embarrassed? I’d be proud. To have two guys fawn all over me? It’d be like my birthday and Christmas rolled into one.”

What?
That was the last thing Summer had expected anyone to say. “You can’t be serious.”

Felicia leveled her gaze. “Honey, I’ve got hot pink hair and enough piercings to make an acupuncturist nervous. I don’t joke about sex.”

Summer slumped back in her chair. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like it can ever work out.”

“Why not?”

Mandy butted in. “They live here. Summer lives in New York.”

“So? That’s a simple fix. Move. Sounds like you hate it there, anyway.”

“I can’t up and move! I’ve got an exhibit next week. My mother is—”

Felicia cut her off. “Not you. If you don’t want what she does, tell her no. Pick something else.”

Summer exhaled. “I wish it were that easy.”

“I didn’t say it was easy. Just simple.” Felicia set her brush down and rolled back her chair. “All set. What do you think?”

Summer glanced down at her nails.
Wow
. While they’d been talking about her messed up love life, Felicia’d painted the ocean on her fingers. Little snapshots of Midnight Cove at dawn.

A rush of tears came out of nowhere and Summer blinked them back. “Thank you. They’re unbelievable.”

“No problem. It’s what I do.” She smiled and turned to Mandy. “Now, beautiful. It’s your turn.”

* * *

Summer walked outside into the noon sun. First the masseuse told her she needed to figure out her problems on her own. Then Felicia went and turned her whole way of thinking upside down. But did any of it matter?

She swiped her phone open and reread the text from her mom.

Called Hillside. Spoke to Rosalind. You have an appointment Wednesday at 10:00 a.m. Don’t be late.

A sigh slipped out as she shoved the phone back in her purse. For someone like Felicia—with no overbearing mother breathing down her neck—it was easy. She could dye her hair a million colors, cover herself in piercings and bangles and be a nail tech in a tiny town on the ocean. But Summer?

With a mother who’s entire existence took up ten city blocks of New York? Who bought a one-bedroom condo in Midnight Cove but wouldn’t dream of letting her daughter crash on the couch? Impossible.

Her mother would keep being larger than life—meddling, offering her opinion, critiquing everything. It wouldn’t stop if Summer shoved her away. The woman would probably take up permanent residence in Midnight Cove. God, she could see it now.

She’d march down Main in a twinset and pearls to bang on the surf shop’s door. “I know you’re in there! Making a fool of yourself!” The indignation even stunk in her imagination.

Her phone buzzed again and she pulled it out.
Where are you? I’d like to go over strategy for the meeting. You need to make a good first impression.

Summer texted back.
Not now, Mom. I’m busy with the wedding.
She shook her head. Couldn’t she stop for one weekend?

If that’s how you want to run your career, fine.

“Damn it.” Summer shut off her phone. She couldn’t deal with it another minute.

“Something wrong?”

Summer glanced up.
Oh, no.
“Ivy. Hi. No, nothing’s wrong. Just waiting on Mandy to finish up.”

“Ooh! A spa day. How fun. Did Felicia do your nails? She’s just the best.”

“Thanks.” Summer tried to smile, but it came out in a grimace. No matter how many times she made small talk with Ivy, she’d never be able to shake the sense of judgment. Disapproval.

Between Ivy’s perfect makeup and sleek blonde hair, to her white handbag and matching shoes, she was a model of vacation riches. “On your way out of town?”

“No, why?”

“Oh, you just look so beachy. I thought maybe Palm Springs?”

Ivy frowned. “Midnight Cove has a beach. And I’m meeting with the inspector today. At our new bar.” She tilted her head. “You’ve heard about it, right? The one above Surfed? Blake and Devin’s place?”

Summer’s face fell. “I thought they were working with Mandy’s brother on that.”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “Ian’s the silent partner. I’m doing design. I can’t believe no one told you.”

“I haven’t been here in a long time.”

Ivy opened her mouth to probably say something snarky, but Summer talked over her. “So you and Ian are dating?”

Ivy beamed. “Yes. He’s the best. You seeing anyone?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Her face said anything but sorry. “What a shame. I’ve heard New York can be a brutal dating scene. So competitive. Cutthroat.”

Ivy’s phone chimed and she pulled it out of her purse. “What! No way!”

She typed away furiously—nails clacking against the glass.

The phone buzzed again and she raised her head.
Uh-oh
. She’d forgotten how Ivy’s face contorted when she got angry. “Something wrong?”