Page 4 of Bluebell Promises

“I don’t believe in fate,” Wren said, clinking her glass with his.

“What do you believe in?” Angelos asked, leaning closer.

Wren thought for a moment. “I believe in jet lag,” she said with a laugh. “Everything I see and hear feels a little fuzzy right now.”

“The food will do you good,” Angelos assured. “What did you order?”

Wren told him, and Angelos nodded, his face stoic. Just as the Thais do, the Greeks took their food seriously.

“It’s very good, but I think we can do more than that,” Angelos said, turning around to throw a rapid flow of Greek back at Andreas, who went back to the kitchen to tell the cook. “They’ll put together a few plates of different things to try,” Angelos said. “You’ll love everything. It’s all very different and very good. I hope you’re hungry?”

In response, Wren’s stomach growled with pain.

Angelos laughed. “I speak that language, too.”

While they waited for the food, the wine flowed easily. Wren was amazed at the stories Angelos told her about his failed film theory education in Athens, about sailing through the Greek islands, and about how devastating it was to be in Santorini during July and August, as it was far too crowded and chaotic. “It no longer feels like my home,” he said sadly.

In return, Wren told him about Bluebell Cove, how the summertime tourist season could be similar, but that it was a blessing for her family, who worked in tourism. She told him about her sisters, how Celia was a prominent journalist, how Juliet had been a renowned fashion designer, and how they’d all returned home after their father’s death to regroup.

“But not you.” Angelos frowned. Their food had arrived, which they shared, and he took a bite of a fried sardine, chewing slowly.

Wren felt a tightness in her throat. “Not me.”

“You’re a free spirit,” he said. “A photographer. You see the world differently than they ever could.”

Wren raised her shoulders. “I think everyone has a unique perspective.”

“It’s not always a sellable perspective,” he said. “But I suppose you’re right.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. The air seemed to sparkle between them. “I always wanted to travel that much. But I suppose you always work alone?”

Wren laughed. Never before had someone vaguely suggested that they travel together, so she assumed it was a joke.

“Ah. It’s funny to you, the idea of traveling with someone else?” Angelos asked.

Wren took a breath and looked at him. She couldn’t believe the genuine glint in his eye. But when she imagined it—Angelos and Wren, running through some beautiful, imagined future—she couldn’t believe how much she wanted it. All this time, she’d thought she wanted to be single. But the truth was, she’d never met anyone she liked enough to take with her.

“We don’t know each other,” Wren said, trying to smile.

“No,” Angelos agreed. “We don’t know each other.”

They held the silence for a beat. Wren’s excitement churned together with her exhaustion. Her stomach was full of moussaka and fish and potatoes and eggplant and cheese and olive oil and wine. She wanted to collapse on a bed and sleep for days and days. But she also couldn’t leave him.

“Shall we have one more glass of wine?” she asked finally.

Angelo grinned wider. “I could never say no to a little more time with you.”

3

Present Day

Groggily, Wren opened her eyes to find her three sisters peering over her. She was splayed out on something hard, a slab of wood. What had happened to her?

“Wren?” Juliet breathed, touching her wrist. “Wren, are you all right?”

Immediately, everything flooded back to her. She was back in Bluebell Cove at the Eco-Lodge party. She cringed, remembering that she had collapsed on the back porch of the Eco-Lodge, in full view of most of Bluebell Cove. Great. This was not the entrance she’d planned for. She hadn’t wanted to make an entrance at all.

Wren tried to pull herself up, but Ivy pressed her back down. “You shouldn’t walk.”

Wren groaned and let her head fall back to the porch floorboards. A horrible ache permeated from her forehead to the base of her spine. Had she hit something when she’d fallen?