Spotlight (The Holland Brothers Book 4)

“Another new display?” Ruby’s voice startles me from the top of the ladder where I’m adjusting the twinkle lights that frame the front window.

I steady myself before glancing down at my sister. “You scared me. I could have broken my neck.”

“Please. You’re only a few feet off the ground. At worst you would have broken an arm.” With a small grin she extends a coffee cup in my direction.

“I couldn’t keep it Valentine’s Day themed forever,” I say. Nor did I want to. Love shmove. “What do you think?”

She barely glances at it before nodding. “Looks good.”

I climb down and take the cup from her. She has her backpack hooked over one shoulder and a pencil holds up her red hair in a messy bun.

“How did writing go today?” I ask. She spends most mornings at a small coffee shop down the street writing her next book.

“It didn’t.” She won’t quite meet my eye as she adds, “I beat three levels in Royal Match though, so quite a successful morning if you ask me.”

I know better than to pick at her when she’s having a rough writing day. No amount of talking it out or inspirational speeches pull her out of it. She needs a couple of hours to mull it over and then inevitably she’ll start picking my brain and we’ll brainstorm wherever she’s stuck until she’s excited again. “Do you want to get lunch?”

“Yes.” Her eyes light up. “I have a call with my agent later and I’ll never survive without carbs and cheese.”

“Pizza it is,” I say. “Let me put the ladder away.”

Gigi comes out from the back room holding a stack of books.

“Oh good,” she says when she spots Ruby. “I have a stack of new orders for you to sign.”

“I’ll do it after lunch,” Ruby says. She’s been saying she’d get to them for two days now and Gigi gives her a loving but no-nonsense stare that says Ruby has run out of excuses.

“You sign books. I’ll grab pizza and bring it back,” I say. Now that I’ve thought about food, my stomach is growling and impatient.

“Okay. Thank you.”

I nod my acknowledgment. “Gigi, do you want anything?”

“No thanks. I have leftover soup and homemade bread today.” The level of excitement in her expression seems to contradict the idea of leftover anything, but Grandpa has been packing her lunches for as long as I can remember, and they are the gold standard. He packages things up like a pro, always adds something from every food group – including dessert. When Gigi pulls out her lunch, anyone nearby always stares in fascination at the spread. But my favorite part is the notes he writes her. Every single day her lunch comes with a handwritten note, usually on a Post-it, occasionally a receipt or lined paper. Sometimes the notes are sweet, sometimes funny. Poems, jokes, drawings, or just a simple I love you.

After I put away the ladder, I grab my purse and leave Ruby with Gigi to sign books. Outside, the weather is sunny and warm. We had a rainy, cold Valentine’s Day last week, but since then, it’s felt like spring has arrived.

The pizza shop is only two blocks away and I’m early enough that I beat the lunch rush.

“Hey, Olivia.” Tim, the owner, smiles from behind the cash register. He’s wearing a Mustangs hat and reading the newspaper. “Dining in or carrying out today?”

“To go, please. The usual.”

He puts down his newspaper to ring me up. It’s open to the sports page and the top headline mentions the Mustangs. There’s a grainy black and white picture underneath of what I assume is one of the players. Tim notices me looking and smiles.

“I bet your grandfather is excited about the season. Hope this new guy is as good as they’re saying he is. I’d like to see them win just once in my lifetime.”

“He’s always excited during baseball season,” I say, handing him my card and stealing another glimpse at the paper. The photo is upside down and not all that clear, but the guy looks familiar. Something tickles in my brain, a memory or connection I can’t quite make, but before I have time to decipher it further, Tim hands me my card back and the receipt.

“Give us about fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks,” I say and head back out the front door. There are tables and chairs underneath a blue awning, but instead of sitting, I walk down the sidewalk enjoying the sun and fresh air.

I love downtown Lake City. Small businesses line the streets. Most have been here since the 1950s. Other areas around downtown have grown, putting in chain restaurants, department stores, and housing subdivisions, but everything in this five-block radius is filled with the old city charm and character. It’s a mecca for art galleries, cozy restaurants, and bookstores. In fact, this area is home to three of the city’s best bookstores: a used bookstore, my family’s, which is The Book Nook, and Plot Twist. They are the newest of the three to the area but have won best city bookstore two years running. Not that I’m counting or anything.

I stop in front of Plot Twist. They have a great location at the end of the block where people park and walk up to the other stores. The front window always has original artwork and changes weekly. It’s part of their schtick. People stop just to stare at the window display and this week’s is an ode to the start of baseball season. The linework is incredible, depicting a man’s profile as he winds up to throw a pitch. And underneath are a variety of books about baseball – from fiction to memoirs. It’s good, not just the artwork but the concept. So good I’m mad that I didn’t think of it.

By the time I get back to our bookstore with lunch, my brain is buzzing with new ideas for the front display. I’m obviously not going to copy their idea, but at the very least we should move some of our most popular baseball books to the front tables. Spring training starts next week, and people around here love the Mustangs – even if they have been on a fifty-year losing streak.

I set the food down on the back table with a thunk.

Ruby and Gigi look up at me from where they sit on the opposite side. Gigi’s lunch is already laid out in front of her, and just like always, it’s a masterpiece. Soup, bread, cut carrots and celery with hummus, mixed fruit, a thermos of tea, and an oatmeal raisin cookie.

“What’s wrong with you?” Ruby asks, lifting one eyebrow as she reaches for the pizza box.

“Did you see Plot Twist’s new window display?”

“Yes,” she says slowly, like she can’t understand why that’s caused my mood to shift.

“I feel like such an idiot. It didn’t even cross my mind to do something for the start of baseball season. Grandpa must be so disappointed in me.”

“Your grandfather doesn’t care one bit about window displays and you know it.” Gigi lifts the spoon to her mouth and takes a small bite, still watching me.

She’s right. I know she’s right, but no one loves baseball more than him. I should have at least considered it.

“I want everyone to love this store as much as I do. We just need to get them in the front door.” I believe that with my whole heart. After all, that’s what happened to me. My earliest memories are sitting on a bean bag chair in the children’s section with a stack of picture books while Gigi helped customers and worked around the store. It’s a magical place, filled with love and books – and really aren’t those the same thing?

“Is that why you’ve changed the front display three times this month?” Ruby asks.

I slump down in my seat and take a slice of veggie pizza from the box. “I’m figuring out what appeals to sidewalk traffic.”

“She’s trying to beat Plot Twist for best bookstore this year,” Gigi says so matter-of-fact that my jaw drops.

I have never spoken that dream out loud.

Picking up on my shock, she says, “You stomped around here for a week when last year’s awards came out.”

I hadn’t realized I was so obvious about my disappointment. I know it’s a silly dream, but this bookstore means everything to me, and Gigi created something really wonderful that has been a part of the community for thirty years. I want the entire city to love it as much as I do.

“Do you still have that old pink bike with the basket on the front?” I ask Gigi.

She nods thoughtfully. “Yes. I think it’s in the shed at home. Why?”

“Can I borrow it for the display? I have an idea that I think will blow theirs out of the water.”

Gigi offers me a soft smile. She might think I’m taking it too seriously, but she’d do anything for me. “Of course.”

“I can go with you to grab it after my call. Maybe we can talk out plot issues on the way?” Ruby asks hopefully.

“Deal.”

By five o’clock, we have finished the new window display and fixed Ruby’s plot issue. She pulled out her laptop as soon as we were done and cozied up in one of the comfy white chairs in front of the magazine section. It makes me so happy to see her fingers flying over the keys.

Greer busts through the front door with the same kind of energy. My daughter only has one speed lately and it’s a full-out run.

“Momma!” she yells and flings herself at my legs. Her blonde curls are wild from the day, framing her heart-shaped face.

Grandpa enters the store a few feet behind her. I smile at him briefly before hugging Greer.

“Hey, sweet girl. How was your day?”

“Good,” she chirps, peering up at me with her arms still wrapped around my waist. “Grandpa took me for ice cream, and he said we could bake cookies tonight.”

One side of her mouth is covered in chocolate—evidence of the ice cream—and yep, now so are my pants. “Sounds like Grandpa is going to be chasing you around the house to get rid of the sugar zoomies!”

She giggles and unlatches herself from me, heading to Gigi next.

“Thanks for picking her up,” I say to Grandpa. He gets her from school every Friday to give me extra time at the store. He’s in his usual outfit of navy dress pants and a short-sleeved button-down shirt. Much to Gigi’s dismay, he hasn’t updated his wardrobe in thirty years, not even the Mustangs hat perched on his head is from the last decade.

“Any time.” He nods his head toward the window behind me. “Looks nice. Is that your grandmother’s old bike?”

“You like it?” My smile widens. “I was going for whimsical springtime vibes.”

“I don’t know what vibes are, but it looks real nice, sweetheart.” He stops in front of me to place a kiss on top of my head.

I follow him to the counter. Gigi is closing out the register for the day, and Greer sits on a stool kicking her feet and talking a mile a minute about everything she did at school.

“And then we played freeze tag until Axel threw up on the gym floor. Then we went outside and…” she continues, detailing all the most memorable parts of her day.

When she’s done and finally takes a breath, Gigi says, “That sounds like quite a day.”

Grandpa leans in and kisses Gigi’s cheek.

“And how was your day?” she asks him.

“Real good.” He nods, mouth curving up. “New scoreboard is up and working, and the benches got a fresh coat of paint.”

Grandpa is the facilities manager at Fletcher Stadium where the Mustangs play. He’s worked for the team in some capacity all my life. I’ve never been a big fan myself. We all go as a family to spring training where Grandpa points out all the updates they’ve made in the past year.

“Can we make chocolate chip cookies tonight?” Greer asks. She has a habit of changing the topic as fast as she talks.

“What about double chocolate chip cookies?” Ruby appears with the cheeriest expression I’ve seen from her all day. I’m not sure if it’s because she finally figured out her book or if Greer’s infectious smile and happiness has rubbed off on her – probably both.

“Are you coming over too?” Greer asks her aunt.

Ruby nods and leans on the counter in front of her. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss Grandpa’s cookies. Plus, I need to go grocery shopping, and I heard you’re having spaghetti.”

“Spaghetti?” Greer’s green eyes widen comically as she looks between Gigi and Grandpa for confirmation.

“With meatballs and garlic bread.” Grandpa rubs his stomach.

“Well now I feel left out,” I whine playfully, although there is a small part of me that wishes I were going to be hanging out with my family tonight. The much larger part is excited for a night out with my friends. It’s my best friend Sabrina’s engagement party so it’ll be a fun time, but there’s always a point in the evening where I miss Greer so much I feel like I can’t breathe. It’s more about me than her. I know that when she’s there, she’s well-loved and taken care of, and Greer looks forward to staying over at her great-grandparents’ house. But tomorrow morning I’ll be anxious to pick her up and see her sweet face.

“I’ll save a cookie for you,” Gigi says to me.

“I won’t.” Ruby smirks.

“Jerk,” I mouth and stick my tongue out at her.

She makes a face back and just like that we’re kids, poking and taunting each other until Greer is in a fit of giggles that almost sends her falling off the stool.

“I think that’s our cue to get home.” Grandpa lifts her into his arms.

I step forward and kiss my daughter on the cheek. She wraps her arms around my neck.

“Tell Aunt Brina hi for me, and Uncle Archer that I’ve learned how to sign all the letters of the alphabet, and Uncle Brogan that I’ve been practicing my touchdown dance.”

“Okay. I will try to remember all that.” I squeeze her hand. “Be good. Have fun. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Bye, Mommy!” She waves as Grandpa carries her away.

“Wait. Can I catch a ride with you?” Ruby grabs her backpack and runs after them, leaving me and Gigi in the store.noveldrama

“You should get out of here too,” Gigi says.

“We don’t close for another hour.”

She raises both brows as she looks around the quiet store. So far, my new window display is not doing the trick of bringing new people inside. Maybe Grandpa is right. What even are whimsical springtime vibes?

“I’ll stick around for a bit. You go have fun. Enjoy your night with friends.” She shoos me with one hand.

“It’s early. No one is there yet.”

“Then go home and change.” She looks me up and down. “Maybe go to the bar first, chat up some nice young men.”

I snort a laugh. “There are no nice young men at the bar on a Friday evening.”

She gives me a disapproving head shake and mutters something about wanting more great-grandbabies while she can still pick them up.

“Okay. Okay. I’m going.” I get my purse from the back room and scan the store for anything that needs doing before I go, but everything is exactly as it should be.

Gigi motions with her head when she sees me lingering.

Laughing to myself, I lift a hand to wave goodbye and then head out of the bookstore. It’s a short drive to my apartment. I change into a dress for tonight and redo my makeup and hair while blasting all my favorite pop songs that I usually skip because they aren’t appropriate for Greer’s little ears.

Even taking my time, I’m ready to go before it’s time to leave. Sabrina and Archer rented out the back room of a popular restaurant and bar for tonight. Nerves bounce around in my stomach. The guest list is insane. Archer plays professional football for the Mavericks and so does his best friend, Sabrina’s brother, Brogan. All their teammates are sure to be there. I’ve only been around the whole lot of them once before, but they’re a big, rowdy, intimidating, but loveable group.

I think Gigi is secretly hoping I’m going to meet one of Archer’s teammates, fall madly in love, and give her a dozen more babies. She’s still offering to take Greer so I can go out and meet people any chance she gets.

My mind flitters back to the last time she watched Greer while I went to New York with Ruby. Brown eyes, a playful smirk, rough hands. My stomach flips at the memory of him.

I met someone. And was promptly reminded why I stopped dating. He snuck out while I was sleeping. I’ve done the walk of shame before, but it never felt as awful as waking up that morning and realizing he’d left without a goodbye. I mean, how embarrassing that he had to leave his own room to get away from me?

I shake off the memory and negative thoughts and check my reflection in the mirror one last time before I head out the door.

I turn up the music in my car and try to reclaim the happy, excited mood from earlier, but my thoughts keep drifting back to that hotel room. I have replayed that entire night from start to finish so many times. Each time I do, I look for the clues. I mean, sure, he was ridiculously hot and charming, but he didn’t seem like a phony. I guess good phonies never do seem that way.

A billboard near the exit catches my attention. Brown eyes. Playful Smirk. My heart lurches and I blink a couple of times. I swear that looked just like him. I turn my head to get another look, but I’m already past it.

“Okay, you’ve officially lost your mind,” I say to myself with a small chuckle as I get off the freeway. Now I’m seeing him on giant signs? I’ve reached a depressing low. For the first week after I got back to Arizona, I thought I saw him everywhere—on TV, on the street, and every time my phone pinged, my heart jumped. It was irrational since I didn’t give him my phone number or my name.

At the restaurant, I spot our group immediately. Archer and his teammates stand out – taller and broader than everyone else. My nerves are back, but as soon as I spot Sabrina and the blissed-out smile on her face, I relax.

“Congratulations!” I say, embracing her tightly.

Her laughter tinkles next to my ear. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

We pull back and she gives me a once-over with an appreciative nod. “You look hot.”

“So do you.” Then again, she always does. Her long, red hair is curled and falls over one shoulder. She’s in a pale purple dress that looks gorgeous against her pale skin and makes her brown eyes pop wider.

Her fiancé, Archer, steps up next to her, sliding one arm around her waist as he tips his head at me. “Hey, Olivia. Glad you could make it tonight.”

“Me too. Greer wanted me to pass on her congrats and let you know she’s mastered signing the alphabet.”

“Is that right?” His smile lifts higher and hazel eyes twinkle with admiration. Archer is deaf. He wears hearing aids, but he also signs—something Greer has thrown herself into learning ever since she met him. I don’t know how he did it, but Archer won over my daughter in record time. It usually takes her a while to warm up to men. I could probably read a whole lot of things into that, but the simple fact is she’s predominantly around women. With the exception of Grandpa, of course.

“She’s very excited to show you the next time she sees you.”

“I can’t wait to see it. Tell her I’ll drop by the studio after her class on Wednesday.”

“She’ll love that.”

Someone nearby laughs loudly and the three of us look over at the commotion. I must have reverted back to being nervous because Sabrina laughs softly and says, “Let me introduce you to some of the guys. They’re not as intimidating once you get to know them.”

I’m not so sure of that, but I follow as she and Archer work their way into the circle of men.

“Sabrina!” The guys all yell and lift their drinks to cheers the bride-to-be.

“What about me?” Archer asks, looking around at his friends.

The guys laugh, but a few tip their beers in his direction.

My gaze travels around the circle. Almost as if on cue, each of the guys looks from the happy couple to me.

“What did I say? Best behavior tonight,” she scolds them playfully. Grabbing my hand, she tugs me farther into the center and begins to introduce the guys.

Some of the more well-known Mavericks players I recognize, like Cody St. James, Merrick Thomas, and of course Sabrina’s brother Brogan Six. He lifts a hand above the crowd to wave at me. I mirror the action, but then Sabrina is pulling me away to another group of guys. Someone, Archer, I think, hands me a glass of champagne.

I take a small sip as Sabrina begins to introduce me to Archer’s brothers. Knox, the motocross rider, Hendrick, the former NFL player. I can see the resemblance in them and Archer. I smile and then glance over at the last Holland brother.

“And this is Archer’s youngest brother, Flynn.”

I glance over at the last man in the circle with one of those friendly, too-bright smiles reserved for first introductions. I’ve heard a lot about Flynn. He’s a professional baseball player that has been crashing with Archer and Brogan after he was cut from the Twins. Sabrina has mentioned him a few times, and I even saw him once, briefly, when I stopped by the apartment. He was passed out on the couch so we didn’t speak, but the point is I know of him, and Archer is the kind of good guy that makes me believe his brothers are all equally as nice.

Which is probably why my stomach lurches so violently when I’m met with familiar brown eyes. I stare at him the way you might an optical illusion—waiting for the man in front of me to morph into someone else.

Because this guy? I know him.

The playful smirk I remember twists with recognition and shock.

“This is my best friend, Olivia,” Sabrina says. Her voice sounds far away like she’s in a tunnel. Or maybe I am.

I hear Hendrick and Knox’s greetings, but I can’t seem to look away from the guy I have thought about every day since New York. Who am I kidding? Every minute. Granted, a lot of those thoughts were anger that he snuck out while I was sleeping and couldn’t be bothered with saying goodbye, but I haven’t been able to shake him.

I open my mouth to say… something… anything, but nothing comes out. Did he know this whole time? That night was he laughing and waiting for me to recognize him? Was it all some joke to him?

An embarrassed flush spreads through me.

“Olivia,” Flynn says my name slowly like it’s part of a puzzle he’s just figured out. He extends a hand.

“You have to be kidding me,” I say under my breath but loud enough that Sabrina hears.

A wrinkle forms between her brows as she looks from me to Flynn and back. “You two have already met?”

“Flynn was crashing at our place that night we watched Greer,” Archer reminds her.

“Oh, right.”

“That’s not it,” I say, then shake my head and look directly at Flynn as I say, “I mean, no, we haven’t met.”

Flynn pulls his hand back, that playful smirk returning, like he’s amused at me pretending not to remember him. Oh, I remember him, but we haven’t met. At least not officially.

Flynn Holland is the guy from New York. Correction, he’s the asshole from New York.