1 A High-End Finish Read Online Free PDF

her pals had never accepted the gesture. Looking back now, I could see how important it must have been for them to maintain the great imaginary divide that existed between the wealthy new residents and the working-class townies. I just wasn’t sure why.
    The rich kids would have been horrified to learn that my father had his own very full bank account, too, after years as a builder of mansions for the rich and powerful. He didn’t like to show it off, though, preferring instead to remain the hardworking, easygoing man he’d always been.
    My little sister, Chloe, had hated being called a townie, and as soon as she graduated high school she’d escaped small-town hell to follow her dream of making it big in Hollywood.
    I’d had a dream, too, of marrying Tommy and living happily ever after in Lighthouse Cove. But that dream was crushed when he announced at the fire pit one night that the horrible Whitney Reid was pregnant and he was going to marry her. Sure enough, the two were wed within the month. In three quick years they produced three kids, an apparently brilliant feat that Whitney continued to flaunt in my face to this day.
    Tommy, however, was simply too nice to be an enemy and he and I had remained good friends after all this time, much to Whitney’s eternal annoyance.
    A seagull shrieked at me, shaking me out of my melancholy reminiscences. Thank goodness. As I slowly stood upright again, stretched and rolled my shoulders a few times, I wondered why my mind had dragged itself back to those bad old days. Maybe it was the ugly altercation with Jerry that had brought all that unhappy boyfriend stuff to the surface.
    Evidently I had more than a few issues to work through this morning. One jog on the beach wouldn’t quite fix them.
    •   •   •
    A tinkling bell announced my arrival at the Scottish Rose Tea Shoppe on Main Street. Emily Rose came out of the kitchen, looking fabulous in a cheery apple-embossed apron over black pants and sweater. Slim and sophisticated, she wore her straight dark hair wrapped up in an elegant twist, giving her the look of a beautiful young Audrey Hepburn. She was smart, too, with a wry sense of humor and a kind heart. Even though she was in her early forties, almost twelve years older than I, she was one of my dearest friends.
    “Oh, Shannon, love,” she cried, taking both of my hands in hers. “I heard what that horrible man did to you. Let me get you some tea.”
    I smiled at her idea of an all-purpose remedy. “Sounds perfect. And maybe a currant scone to go?”
    “To go? No, no, you don’t,” she insisted, her Scottish brogue coming through. “You’ll stay and sit and enjoy yourself. The girls are all here for you, so go join them. Wait.” She grabbed a clean dish towel and handed it to me. “You’re glowing a bit.”
    “You mean sweating?” I laughed and used the towel to pat down my still-damp face and neck. “Thanks.”
    She pushed me toward the cozy back room, which was used for private parties. “I’ll bring some treats to you in a jiffy.”
    Her words sank in. “The girls are all here?”
    She glanced over her shoulder at me. “I rang them up when I saw you jog by earlier. I knew you’d have to come back this way eventually, so if you hadn’t stopped in we were planning to lasso you.”
    I could listen to her talk all day long, even though it was occasionally necessary to ask her for a translation.
    The tension in my neck loosened slightly as I realized my friends were circling the wagons on my behalf. I entered the back room and Lizzie sprang from her chair and grabbed me in a tight hug. “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault.”
    “It wasn’t your fault,” I murmured, patting her back to comfort her. She laid her head on my shoulder, or tried to, anyway. She was barely five foot one, but every inch of her was perky and vibrant. Her dark hair was cut in a short, sassy style with long bangs that emphasized her big eyes. She chose