Kismet: A Serendipity Novella by Carly Phillips Page B

he
asked.
    She patted her mouth with the napkin and met
his gaze. “Well, after I interview you, I have to go home and get
to work on Ethan Barron. Do you remember him?”
    He nodded. “My sister told me he came back
to town after ten years, bought the Harrington estate, married
Faith Harrington, and surprised the hell out of everyone in town by
being a millionaire.”
    “After his parents died and he disappeared,
everyone thought he’d end up in jail ... or worse.”
    “Helluva story for you to write, though,”
Trevor said. “Then what?”
    Lissa shrugged. “So far it’s been freelance.
I’m hoping something permanent will come up, but even this way I’m
making more money than I was at Cuppa Café and writing the town
obits.” She lifted her coffee cup and took a long sip.
    “Which means you aren’t committed to staying
in Serendipity because of your work?” he asked.
    Her hands began to shake and she grasped her
coffee cup for something to hold on to. “Serendipity is my home,”
she said, hoarsely. It was her security. “My family is there. My
friends ...” Hard-earned friends, she might have added. Because
Lissa didn’t let people in easily. In fact, she was better at
driving them away. “Livvy’s life is there.”
    Trevor shot her a knowing look, one that
said he knew she was panicking. “Who are your friends these days?”
he asked, smoothly changing the subject.
    She didn’t know why, but she was grateful
not to have to think beyond right now. “You’re really
interested?”
    Again, that knowing yet patient look crossed
his face. “How else can I get to know you again?” he asked.
    She sighed and shook her head, unable to
deny him even the simplest of answers, even if he wouldn’t like
what he learned about her. “For awhile, I was lucky I had friends,”
she admitted. “I was unhappy, Trevor. Around Livvy I put up a good
front, but when I wasn’t? I was a raving bitch to most people.” She
couldn’t meet his gaze, not proud of the woman she’d become for a
while.
    “Unhappiness can drain you.”
    He sounded like he understood, but she still
couldn’t look at him. “I’m lucky Kate Andrews decided she liked me.
She’d come into the coffee shop, buy herself something, and hang
out at the counter, talking to me when it was quiet and I wasn’t
serving.”
    “Kate ...” he said as if trying to place
her.
    “Long, reddish-brown hair, best friends with
Faith Harrington,” she said, to jog his memories of their high
school days.
    He nodded. “I remember her. She was always
outgoing. Nice.”
    “And persistent,” Lissa said, wrinkling her
nose at the memory. “She insisted I leave Livvy with my mom and
come to Joe’s with her and her friends on Wednesday nights. It’s
still Ladies Night. Soon Wednesdays became a ritual, and so did
book club once a month. We rotate houses.” She shrugged. “After
spending most of my time holed up in the house, eventually I had
friends again.” She smiled at the thought of her small clique.
“There’s Kate and some other girls from high school, Stacy Garner
and Tanya Santos.” And now she even considered Faith Harrington
one, too.
    “And then Faith came back and your career
took off ...” he said, as if reading her mind.
    Lissa shook her head. “It wasn’t quite that
simple.” Drawing a deep breath, she recounted to Trevor how
godawful rude she’d been to Faith on her return to Serendipity.
    “When Faith got together with Ethan, I took
great pleasure in reminding her that though he could wrap a woman
around his finger, he didn’t know the first thing about sticking
around.” She winced at the reminder, knowing she’d said far worse
to Faith—and God, she regretted it.
    “Are you trying to scare me off?” Trevor
asked, reaching across the table and grasping her hand.
    His heat seared her skin but the warmth in
his eyes undid her, crumbling defenses she’d tried so hard to
build. “I just want you to know who I am, so there are