Chapter 1

ONE

CASSIE QUINN DROPPED her speed as she approached the employee entrance to The Haven. Everyone in the small town of Gossamer Falls knew Cassie had a lead foot. But violating the fifteen-mile-per-hour speed limit within the gates of The Haven was a one-way ticket to unemployment.

And Cassie wasn’t about to risk that. Especially today, when she was on her way in for a meeting with The Haven’s CEO, Bronwyn Pierce.

She waved her badge in front of the sensor and gave a tiny salute to the security guard she knew watched from the cameras placed along the top of the walls. The massive iron gates opened, and she drove her Jeep inside.

No one could get inside the grounds of The Haven without permission. Bronwyn had a zero-tolerance policy for trespassing. That didn’t mean people didn’t try, but the few who managed to get a toe across the property line found themselves spending the night in a Gossamer Falls jail cell.

The last time it happened, she’d still been dating Officer Donovan Bledsoe.

Don’t go there. Memories of the three months they’d dated last winter had been shoved into the same vault where she’d stuffed the four months of stress followed by twelve hours of intense trauma that she’d experienced in Atlanta a year ago.

Heartbreak came in many forms. Some, like the Atlanta fiasco, she’d never put herself through again. That was in the vault because she didn’t need to relive that. Ever. But Donovan? He’d never been anything but a dream come true.

Right up until the night he ended everything.

So he’d gone into the vault that held the dust of her dreams.

Would her time as chef at Hideaway join him there? Maybe. But when Bronwyn had called her a month ago, desperate after the head chef had a heart attack while The Haven was at capacity with late summer guests, Cassie hadn’t had to think twice before she took the risk.

Just like deep down she knew if Donovan ever came to her and said he’d made a mistake, she’d give him another chance.

Because some dreams were worth it. Weren’t they?

How incredibly stupid was that? He hurt her. He made her fall head over heels, and then he walked away like it was no big deal. How could he do that?

And why hadn’t she insisted that he explain? Instead she’d just let him go.

Five minutes later, she pulled into her reserved parking spot and checked her watch. She was early, but not by much. She checked her makeup in the mirror and climbed out. She was reaching into the back seat to grab her bag when a horn beeped. A few seconds later, Bronwyn parked beside her.

Cassie waited for Bronwyn to exit her car and smiled at the woman who’d given her an opportunity she’d never dared dream of. Would that end today? If it did, she had no idea what would come next. She’d spent the year since she’d come home running a small weekends-only restaurant in town and supplementing her income by working as a personal chef for a few clients in Asheville. She could make the personal chef gig permanent, but she didn’t want to.

“Cassie! Great timing!” Bronwyn’s grin held no tension.

Lord, please let it be good news.

“Want to walk with me over to the breakfast kitchen? I need coffee.”

“Sure.” Cassie fell into step with Bronwyn.

The Haven catered to an exclusive clientele. Celebrities, politicians, and business moguls came to the mountains of North Carolina to get away from it all. But just because they wanted a mountain escape didn’t mean they wanted to rough it. They wanted luxury linens, high-end everything, and room service. Three years earlier, Bronwyn had a separate kitchen built to accommodate the myriad requests for everything from chocolate milk to The Haven’s most popular dish—a fried green tomato BLT.

The breakfast kitchen handled room service requests twenty-four hours a day. Breakfast, lunch, and snacks were provided through the breakfast kitchen and delivered to the individual cabins by resort staff.

Dinner was another matter entirely. The Haven’s fine dining restaurant, Hideaway, had made a quiet name for itself for its intimate atmosphere, professional service, and unique seasonal menu, which featured sophisticated Southern cuisine. Reservations were required and were only available to The Haven’s guests. Dinner was served from six to nine. No exceptions.

Cassie loved everything about it. Well, almost everything.

“Thanks for meeting me so early,” Bronwyn said. “When did you get out of here last night?”

“I left around one.”

Bronwyn tugged on her arm and stopped them in the middle of the path. “One—a.m.? Why? You should be out of here long before then.”

Cassie couldn’t meet Bronwyn’s eyes. She’d been hoping to avoid this conversation.

“Cass? What’s going on?”

Cassie stared at the ground and tried to come up with an answer that wouldn’t get anyone in trouble. “I didn’t want to say anything. It’s a temporary situation, and I can handle it.”

“Explain.” Bronwyn’s voice had shifted from concerned friend to concerned CEO.

But Cassie wasn’t prepared to give in. “I’m not a rat. And it isn’t my kitchen. If it were, I’d handle this differently. But Chef Louis has been nothing but gracious, and I won’t ruin what he has worked so hard to put together.”

Bronwyn shook her head, her frustration obvious. “We can table this discussion temporarily. But after we talk, we will be revisiting this topic.”

That didn’t sound ominous at all.

Before Cassie could ask what she meant, Bronwyn pasted on a smile. “Let’s grab our food and go back to Hideaway to talk. I don’t want to be overheard, and my office will have too many people there now.”

They chatted about safer topics as they picked up coffees, a muffin for Cassie, and a chocolate croissant for Bronwyn.

“I heard you had a date last week.” Bronwyn’s oh-so-casual tone didn’t fool Cassie.

“Who told you that?” It had to have been Cal or Meredith. Cassie’s cousins—technically they were her cousins once removed, but seriously, who could keep up with all of that—Cal, Meredith, and Mo had grown up with Bronwyn, then in their teens they’d drifted apart. Everyone was back in Gossamer Falls now, and Cal and Meredith got along with Bronwyn fine. Mo was another matter entirely.

Bronwyn’s laughter held so much mischievous glee that Cassie groaned. “Spill it.” She took a bite of her muffin and stared Bronwyn down until she answered.

“I heard it from our very own police chief.”

The muffin went down all kinds of wrong. Cassie coughed and spluttered, and tiny crumbs flew out of her mouth. She wanted to die of embarrassment. She couldn’t stop coughing, but Bronwyn was laughing so hard, she was doubled over. Hopefully she’d missed the crumb debacle.

Police Chief Grayson Ward was Donovan’s boss. If Gray knew, then...

Cassie finally got the coughing under control and ran a finger under each eye in hopes of preventing her makeup from running down her cheeks. When she refocused on Bronwyn, it was to see that the laughter had been replaced by concern.

“I’m sorry.” There was no way to miss her sincerity. “I didn’t expect you to nearly choke to death. And I’ve just realized why this isn’t funny to you. Gray heard it from Cal at breakfast. Donovan was on a night shift, so I doubt he heard anything about it. If you care about that?”

Cassie took a sip of her coffee. Then another. She didn’t respond until they were almost to the back door of Hideaway’s kitchen. “I don’t know why I reacted that way. I’m free to date whomever I want. And it shouldn’t matter if anyone”—she refused to say his name—“overheard or knows.”

Bronwyn put an arm around her and squeezed. “I understand so much more than you know.” With a final squeeze, Bronwyn slid her ID card in front of the security sensor to unlock the door. “So, how was the date? Good?”

Cassie followed her inside. “It was—”

Bronwyn had flipped on the lights and they both stared at the kitchen. A kitchen that had been pristine when Cassie had left it a few hours ago but now looked like someone had taken a chain saw to the appliances.

The kitchen had been destroyed. Knives lay in pieces on the warped counters. Shelving had been overturned. The refrigerator door had a hole large enough for a gallon of milk to fit through it.

Cassie didn’t even know how that was possible.

On the floor, written in a red sauce, was one word.

Oops.