Chapter One - AVA

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All Ava Fenn needed was a place to forget and be forgotten. She just wanted to start over. When she pulled into the drive of her newly purchased home, she hoped she’d made the right decision.

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Is starting over just my version of running away?

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That question had gripped her thoughts every day since before summer.

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She put the car in park, rested her hands on the steering wheel, and peered up at the bungalow in front of her. The tapered columns framed a spacious porch, and she decided at a glance that the trellis, layered in a lush tapestry of pink climbing roses, offered just the kind of privacy she’d need on those lazy summer afternoons when she swayed in the porch swing in its shade.

 

She also scanned the street and could see the knob of the cul-de-sac, where a couple of kids rode bikes in circles at the keyhole. With a deep breath, she stepped out of the car and yanked the SOLD sign from its perch in the front yard.

 

At least she had one friend here. That would be enough. Carly Kirkpatrick had been the one to convince Ava that Camden Grove would be a safe, quiet place to call home. She’d also been the glue holding Ava together through the whole fiasco that had been her life in the last few months—the disaster she still worried hadn’t seen its end.

 

With key in hand, Ava opened her front door. Boxes stacked in every corner greeted her as she stepped into the entry. While packing back in Nashville, she’d bought color-coded stickers to go on each container and requested that the movers put them in specific rooms according to the color legend she handed them after signing the forms.

 

Color-blind movers.

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After she set her purse on the floor, Ava peeled off her shoes and threw her jacket on top of a covered chair. They had put that in the right room at least.

 

The four-hour drive to Camden Grove had been tiresome, but she hoped the distance would be enough. When she looked at the boxes, the thought of unpacking exhausted her even more. She grabbed a water bottle from her purse and took a long, slow sip. Her phone jingled with the annoying ringtone she associated with the Nashville office. She made a mental note to change it and never to use that ringtone again.

 

Cradling the phone with her shoulder, she peeled back the tape on a packing box. “Hi, Paige, what’s going on?”

 

“Hey Dr. Fenn, some mail came for you. Should I forward it to your new address, or will you be back in town?”

 

“New address is good. I’m hoping I’ll have no reason to come back.” Ava paused. “Look, Paige, I didn’t have a chance to talk to you before I left. I wanted to tell you how much I appreciated working with you. I just . . . well, this has all been such a mess.”

 

“I’m really sorry,” the secretary lowered her voice. “Things shouldn’t be this way, Dr. Fenn.” Before

 

Ava responded, Paige whispered, “I knew from the beginning you weren’t involved with Dr. Simmons. I-I mean with any kind of fraud. Well . . . I should probably go.”

Ava straightened her posture and clutched the phone. The muscles in her shoulders tensed with the mention of his name. “Thanks, Paige.” She ended the call and put the phone on the coffee table.

 

Short as it was, the conversation left her head swimming with the need for that porch swing. No doubt, her life in Nashville had taught her two valuable lessons: one, don’t place faith in someone just because he shows personal interest; and two, she should steer her own ship if she wanted to stay out of troubled waters. She hoped that Camden Grove would be the best place to dock that ship. Either way, she had no other choice.

 

As she focused on unpacking, Ava regretted not taking time to cull her old stuff when she’d left Nashville. She’d promised herself that after getting settled, she’d simplify and reduce. Those words had become her mantra.

 

When the phone rang a second time that evening, the living room had turned into a heap of black lawn bags full of papers, trinkets, and keepsakes no longer worth keeping. Climbing over the mess, Ava located her phone and saw the tawny, attractive image of her wavy-haired best friend smiling back at her.

 

“Hey.” The tension in her voice hadn’t dissipated much since the earlier call.

 

“Why, hello, Dr. Fenn,” Carly said, her tone a cross between bubbly and badgering. “Did you not see it was me calling? You sound so serious.”

 

“Sorry. Guess I’m a little touchy.” Ava could tell Carly was on the move. “Where you headed? I can hear you in the car.”

 

“Just pulling onto your street. Put on some shoes. We’re going out for ice cream.”

 

Ava pushed a box out of her way and looked out the window. “How’d you know I needed some Rocky Road?”

 

“You’re not only serious, but you’re also predictable. I’m guessing you’re unpacking, dredging up all the old stuff your psyche needs to purge. That’s what my therapist says old stuff does to you.”

 

“You don’t have a therapist.”

 

“I know, but it’s fashionable to say such things nowadays. Open your door for me. I’m almost there.”

 

Ava had been friends with Carly since college when the housing office assigned them as roommates. They’d come from similar working-class backgrounds but with different ambitions and vastly contrasting ideas about how to manage campus life.

 

Carly spent most of her academic time in the photojournalism department and the rest trying to find the perfect specimens to photograph. That often found her on the practice fields at the University of Tennessee, which later landed her the top spot for the school newspaper’s sports department.

 

For Ava, undergrad was her first plunge into workaholism. After a car accident claimed her parents, she allowed her class load to consume her—a combination of morning labs, afternoon tutoring, and evening study groups all providing the escape she needed.

 

Carly wouldn’t allow her to fall into the well of self-pity and overwork, though. They complemented each other well and became even closer friends.

 

Staying in touch through med school hadn’t been as easy, but they always connected during downtime, catching up on Carly’s latest news assignment or the grossest of Ava’s current medical studies. Residency had been much the same. But after Ava started practicing with Corbin Simmons, Carly made no secret she didn’t like her friend’s new gig or love interest. Her goal had always been to get Ava to move to Alabama, and she insisted that something was off-center about Corbin.

 

When Ava called her last month at the point of a nervous breakdown in the middle of the scandal, Carly took charge and helped her focus on starting over. In the end, she kept her emotionally afloat.

 

From the living room window, Ava watched an SUV pull into the drive. The magnetic sign on the driver’s side door read Then Comes Marriage Photography in a flowery script. Photography was the passion Carly had pursued when her photojournalism dreams hadn’t panned out. The local newspaper she worked at and planned to purchase had gone belly-up before she could afford a takeover, and as relationships went, Carly wasn’t without her own battle scars. Only recently had she begun to step back into the dating scene.

 

As her friend approached the front door, Ava could see her auburn waves bouncing in rhythm with her step. Something about having an ally to take you for ice cream at dinner time made life seem a little more tolerable.

 

“New business name?” Ava stepped out onto the porch, purse in hand, and nodded toward Carly’s car door.

 

“Yeah, clever, right? Jex is helping me rebrand, but I’ll have to tell you about that later.”

 

“About this new guy or the rebranding? I’ve still got to get the details on him, you know.”

 

“Yeah, I know. C’mon, we need something rich, sweet, and refreshing first.”

 

“Sounds like we’re already talking about him.”

 

“Well.” Carly’s lips curled at the mention. “I’ll just say this. He’s all the above. Now, let’s get moving.”

 

***

 

Dawson’s Creamery stood, a quaint staple along the more modern side of Camden Grove’s colonial-style courthouse. It sat between a family-operated drug store and a chic Southern boutique, the windows of which were bursting with the newest styles in linen.

 

Carly ordered a confetti scoop in a cup and parked herself in a corner booth. When Ava scooted into the bench across from her, holding a generous serving of Mint Chocolate Chip in a waffle cone, Carly’s eyes came alive. “What’s with you and the minty-ness, and where’s my best friend? I thought Rocky Road was your flavor for life.”

 

Ava took a defiant round-the-cone lick of her ice cream. “You’re looking at someone who’s ready for change. My life’s been a rocky road for a long time now. I need a new flavor. Did I tell you I’m scrapping a lot of my old stuff? Simplifying and reducing. My new buzz words. And besides, the mint chocolate chip just sounded good.”

 

“How introspective of you. Here I got you a new place, you’re setting up a new office, becoming one of those zealots who have an empty house with two shirts in the closet, and you’re rockin’ a new ice cream flavor? This, my friend, is a bit much, don’t you think?”

 

“What? Are you paying for my house now?”

 

“Hardly.” Carly sucked on her loaded spoon. “But I do claim a reasonable percentage of responsibility for getting you in that little beauty at such a steal.” A smug grin appeared over the top of her ice cream cup. “It pays to have a friend whose dad is in foreclosure banking. Wouldn’t you agree?”

 

“Mmm.” Ava stared at the cone. “This is delicious. Don’t think I’ve ever tried mint before.”

 

“Since you’re all about the new, I have an idea. How about you help me with a little project to throw some business my way.”

 

“Does this have anything to do with that Chicago trip last month and this new guy, Jex, with all the photography ideas? By the way, you’ve been a totally different person since you got back. I’m half afraid to ask what’s up your sleeve.”

 

“Different person, huh?”

 

“Yeah, it’s like you got your old college sass back, times ten.”

 

In the last month, Carly had shared a few of the new developments in her personal life, but with all the chaos of her own, Ava hadn’t taken much time to get the details. It was good to see her friend perked up.

 

“Hm.” Carly shrugged. “Imagine that.”

 

“So?”

 

“So what?”

 

“Does it have something to do with Chicago and the new guy?” Ava prodded.

 

“Maybe.” Carly buried her coy tone in a big bite of ice cream. With a swallow, she continued. “But, I’ll fill you in on him later. Right now, I need your help.”

 

“Sorry, I’m far from being on the hunt for a wedding photographer.”

 

Carly waved her off. “That’ll come eventually. But it’s not a wedding shoot I want.”

 

Ava continued to work on her cone.

 

“You remember Jessie, right?” Carly had partnered with Jessie Galloway to take on the role as an engagement photographer while Carly’s specialty was capturing the big day.

 

“We met once.”

 

“Yeah, well, she’s had a lot going on with her mom lately. She’s just gotten Mrs. Galloway settled in some kind of Alzheimer’s assisted living place over in Hartley. And, among other things, because the First Comes Love photographer has been out of commission, our Then Comes Marriage photoshoots are taking a loss.” She waved her spoon in circles between them. “You know, people like to line up our services together. Anyway, to drum up business, I need to feed the engagement schedule, and to feed the engagement schedule, I learned in Chicago—”

 

“From Jex?” Ava cocked her head.

 

“Yes, from Jex—that I need to think outside the box. Knock a few fresh ideas around. Basically, I want to try a little experiment to see if a new concept Jex and I have been working on would be feasible to generate some ads. Make sense?”

 

“Sorry, no engagement on the horizon for me, either, but if I hear of anybody—”

 

“No, that’s just it. Let me explain.”

 

“Before you get started, I’ve never been a good godmother to your brainchildren, and honestly, despite the fact that I’ve been completely negligent of our friendship, I’ve got a lot on my hands right now getting back on my own feet.”

 

“That’s why this is perfect! It would only be for a day. A Saturday, maybe. We just want to do this test run and I think we can get some great results. You know how I like to have all my ducks in a row before I go full-scale with anything.”

 

Ava cut her eyes at Carly.

 

“At least let me tell you about it.”

 

“I’m sure you’re going to anyway.”

 

“Exactly!” Carly settled into her seat. “Okay, so I just need you for a couple of hours at most. You’d get rid of your lab coat and come dressed in some cute little jeans and maybe one of those peasant tops—that would look adorable on you. Oh, and you could bring a dress. Something summery and feminine.”

 

Ava swallowed a cold bite. “Now that we’ve got my wardrobe picked out. What am I supposed to be posing for?”

 

“Ready for this? You are going to be doing a stranger thing.”

 

“When it comes to hanging out with you, I’ve already done stranger things than most, but I’m not sure I catch your drift.”

 

“No, it’s not you doing something strange. You kind of go on a . . . blind-date photoshoot. You know, with a stranger.” She took the last bite of ice cream and licked the edge of the cup.

 

“Wait, are you saying I get all dressed up to take photos with a blind date?” Ava dropped her hand. The bottom of the waffle cone crunched against the table. “That’s beyond strange, Carly. That’s dumb.” Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “And what do we do? Just stand there and look awkward while somebody snaps a picture? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I think your brainchild just suffered an aneurysm.”

 

“Come on, give me a minute. I think it could be fun. We’d vet potential partners, and . . . think of it, a spontaneous afternoon, then it’s no strings attached. It’s even better than a blind date because you have an excuse to bow out. You know, you were just helping out a friend, everybody has a fun afternoon, and then, you get to leave.”

 

“No, you’re really just trying to get me to go on a date. This isn’t me helping you with your business. It’s you trying to fix me up and calling it a favor.”

 

“Seriously, you would be helping me with my business . . . aside from any other possibilities, and take it from me, potential exists.” Before Ava could respond, Carly continued, “Don’t shut me off yet. Just think about it. We would set up boundaries, but you’d be posed in different settings, holding hands, hugging, looking into each other’s eyes. Just think of it as your being a model for an engagement shoot.”

 

“But I’m not engaged. I’m not a model. And I’m not interested.”

 

Carly sighed, her words dragging through a vocal sludge. “Honestly, Ava. Go with me on this.”

 

“For what purpose?”

 

“To help a friend in need . . . and maybe to see if any sparks fly,” she quickly added.

 

“I once thought there was such a thing, but the only honest, elemental sparks I’ve had in the last ten years have been trying to get through chem classes in med school. I’m sure you can find somebody else with a taste for the kind of chemistry you’re talking about.”

 

“That’s exactly why you’d be perfect. No expectations. No practice. Total spontaneity. It makes for fantastic candids.”

 

Exasperation set in. “I don’t think so. I don’t need this in my life right now, Carly. You should find another friend.”

 

“Everybody else is married. Besides, that’s not the draw for a shoot like this. It’s to see if, when you’re put in an intimate situation with somebody you don’t know, you find the fireworks. And if those fireworks are caught on camera, then that’s the bonus for me.”

 

Ava finished her waffle cone. “The answer”—she crumpled a napkin into a tight ball— “is no.”

 

Carly’s tone changed to pleading. “Come on, Ava. I helped you get a house for a fraction of what it’s worth so you could put the extra funds toward the old newspaper office.” Carly scooted up on the bench. “Won’t you come do this as a favor for your best friend? We can scrap it all if it doesn’t turn out.”

 

Carly didn’t often pull the guilt card, but Ava hated when she did. “And what will you do if it does turn out?”

 

“I’ll get you on my calendar for some wedding shots in the near future?”

 

Ava’s eyes widened. “That’s not what I mean. If the photos were to look decent, I wouldn’t be comfortable with your using them in ads. I came here to establish a reputable practice in Camden Grove. How would my patients respond if they’ve seen me in some cozy little picture with a guy I don’t even know? That doesn’t exactly scream professionalism.”

 

“Already thought about that. We could shoot in the next town over—Hartley’s booming with possibilities. In fact, I’m vying to get in the door with the Generations Bridal Boutique there. They have a sought-after wedding planner on staff, and she’s in my sights. The only thing I’d possibly use your shoot for is to network with them at the next regional bridal fair. Show them some samples. This could be a big break for our business.” Carly put on a droopy face. “I need this, Ava. Come on. Help me out.”

 

Ava sat brooding in silence.

 

“Please?” Carly’s voice rose an octave.

 

“I get all the veto power if this is a wash.”

 

“All the power.”

 

“And you can’t pin me in a corner anymore about your helping me get the house or office.”

 

“Never again.”

 

“And my second scoop of ice cream is on you.”

 

“Mint Chocolate Chip?”

 

“Blue Cotton Candy.” Ava threw the wadded napkin on the table.

 

Carly rose from the bench. “You’re getting more exotic every second.”

 

Ava rolled her eyes. “Looks like.”