Chapter One
“That’s all I have for you today. If you liked my video, click the link below to subscribe and follow me on all of my other platforms!” Quinne kissed two fingers and waved them at her phone. Leaning forward, she tapped the screen to end the stream and sat back in her chair with a sigh.
People didn’t realize how hard it was to keep up appearances. She always had to be on her best behavior, even when she wasn’t in front of a screen. She was a celebrity in her own right, and it was exhausting.
She spun around in her chair and glanced at the clock on the wall. Her mother was expecting a visit today. A groan escaped from her lips and she eased out of her seat.
Alice Hart was the kind of woman who didn’t take no for an answer. She was also up on all of the trends before they even became relevant. She was the one with connections. If it hadn’t been for her, Quinne would probably still be working at a dead-end job.
Her mother was just… a little out of the loop these days.
Alice still thought she had an understanding of what people wanted to see. But there was a difference between being a little behind and being so out of touch that she actually suggested that Quinne make a video out at Maple Gardens.
There was no way. Quinne’s followers had zero interest in a retirement community. She couldn’t just put a dress on the place and call it something else.
But maybe she could make her mother believe she was still being helpful, still a big part of Quinne’s success. She could record Alice with her little group of friends. Perhaps they’d all like to be interviewed. If nothing else, she could do a little puff piece and let one of the directors at Maple Gardens show it to the residents. They’d all get a kick out of that.
Quinne moved into the bathroom of her studio apartment and glanced in the mirror. Her flash of pink hair had the usual carefree look that took at least an hour to do every morning. The pixie style suited her and the lifestyle she led.
But her mother insisted that Quinne’s style choices were the one thing holding her back from finding a husband.
Ha. What made her mother think she was interested in dating anyone right now anyway? She was too busy with traveling and events. There was barely enough time for her to enjoy a little time to herself.
Dragging a finger beneath one eye, she cleaned up a little makeup then slipped out of the bathroom and toward the door, only pausing long enough to grab her bag from the coffee table in her sitting area.
One short visit and she’d be free for another week. Okay, that wasn’t really fair. She loved her mother and she didn’t mind visiting her. There were just so many other obligations she had to deal with. Not to mention the group of friends she’d made at Maple Gardens weren’t exactly the kind of people who understood her.
Quinne arrived at the main building at the retirement community and stared at the structure from her car. From the outside, no one would suspect that the majority of the people who lived here were well-off. When her mother had first shown her the flyer for this place, Quinne had been adamant that she didn’t want to see Alice being locked away in some facility. But Alice wore her down. This place wasn’t like the usual ones she saw on television or heard horror stories about.
Maple Gardens was a community of people who didn’t want to live on their own anymore. Some of them had more needs than others, but her mother had thrived here and was happier than Quinne remembered ever seeing her.
She headed into the building toward the room where her mother was often found, but it was empty. In fact, it was practically dead in the complex except for exactly two residents. Not even the reception desk had anyone sitting there. An eerie feeling came over Quinne as she looked around the room.
Where was everyone?
Quinne picked up her pace as she strode along the corridor headed for her mother’s little apartment. No Alice in sight. Something wasn’t right.
This time, she jogged back to the main building, determined to find someone who worked at this place. If this was how Maple Gardens was being run, she didn’t want her mother here any longer. They’d have to find somewhere with better supervision. How could a whole building of residents disappear?
The reception desk was still vacant.
The same two residents from earlier were eating lunch. At least that was something. Quinne hurried across the room to the couple, addressing the man, who had just finished a mouthful. “I’m sorry, but could you help me find someone who works here?”
The woman blinked as she stared up at Quinne. Her eyes darted from Quinne to the man beside her and she smiled. “Terrance doesn’t speak much.”
Irritation flooded Quinne’s midsection. “Well, do you know where I can find someone who works here?”
The woman gazed at her blankly. Her brows creased and her lips pressed together. “There was something going on today. People were going out the door.” Her eyes cut to Quinne. “I’m sorry, dear, my memory isn’t what it used to be.”
A groan escaped Quinne’s lips. “All I need to know is if there is anyone here who can help me. I need to find my mother.” Her tone held a little more bite than she intended and she reined it in. Had she gotten a mailer or any kind of notice that her mother wouldn’t be here today, she might have been a little more patient. But right now, it was like the whole place had been raptured and the only two remaining people weren’t going to be of much help. “Sorry about that. So, you don’t know where they all are?’
There was no answer and she threw her hands into the air.
“They’ve gone to the pond to feed the ducks.”
Quinne jumped and spun around. A man in a white apron stood in the doorway of the kitchen. He wiped his hands on a towel, but he didn’t smile.
“The pond?” She folded her arms. “What pond? My mother has been living here for at least a year. She hasn’t said anything about a pond since arriving.”
He jerked his chin toward the exit. “They just put it in about a month ago. Now we have ducks.”
“You expect me to believe that the person in charge was willing to let everyone, including the staff, walk down to a pond to feed ducks?”
He shrugged. “I’m not in charge. I just make the food.”
She snorted. “This is more than unacceptable. It’s dangerous. These two clearly need supervision.” She gestured vaguely at the couple who hadn’t been helpful at all. “Where is the person who is supposed to do that?”
“You’re looking at him.”
Quinne’s eyes narrowed, if only in an attempt to trick herself that she didn’t need to blush with embarrassment. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “You’re the cook. I doubt you have the credentials to—”
“I trained as a nurse before I decided to follow my passion and start working in the kitchen.”
Her voice died in her throat and this time she did blush. The way he kept staring at her was unnerving, setting her on edge. She didn’t like the feeling of someone having the upper hand.
Well, she was the one paying for her mother to stay here. She was funding his paycheck. Quinne frowned, swallowing the lump of discomfort the best she could. “When are they supposed to get back?”
“Quinne! You’re early!”
She spun around to find her mother entering the common room ahead of the flood of residents that came with her. Cheeks flushed from whatever physical activity she’d just undertaken, Alice actually looked like she had enjoyed herself.
Of course she did.
Alice did things because she wanted to. Not because she was swayed.
Her mother flipped her long black hair over her shoulder and her blue eyes flashed brightly. The grays at the crown of her head were starting to peek through the dye job she insisted she keep up.
Alice reached up to touch Quinne’s own pink locks but wasn’t successful when Quinne ducked away. “Mom. You know I don’t like it when you touch my hair. I have to be ready at a moment’s notice for pictures and video.”
Her mother smiled and shook her head. “You’re always beautiful, dear. Not a hair out of place.”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
Alice chuckled. “Okay.” Her eyes shifted away and then back to Quinne. “I see you met the new cook. Chef Peter.”
“Unfortunately, yeah.” Quinne murmured. “He doesn’t seem—”
“Isn’t he handsome?”
Quinne rolled her eyes. “We’ve been through this. I’m not interested in dating anyone.”
“I didn’t say anything about dating him. I just asked if you thought he was handsome.”
Quinne glanced over her shoulder, not surprised to find that the man had disappeared back into the kitchen. Quinne hadn’t been interested enough to examine what he looked like. If pressed, she’d say he was average. Brown hair? Maybe brown eyes? It didn’t matter. Chef Peter wasn’t someone she cared to speak to ever again.
Quinne turned to her mother and her brows pulled together. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going out on an excursion?”
Alice laughed. “I don’t have to tell you where I’m going all the time.”
“You should. I don’t trust these people to keep you safe when you’re out and about. Do you know how easy it would be for you to break something?”
Her mother scoffed. “Honestly, dear. I’m not that old. It was a quick walk down to the new pond. Oh, it was simply wonderful. I’m sure you could do some wonderful stuff for your job down there if you’d like.”
There it was. More suggestions. “Thanks, Mom, but I’ve already got content lined up. I don’t have—”
“Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but I let Isaac Spencer know that you might be interested in having him pay you to do some content about this place.”
“Isaac Spencer? Oh, the owner? I don’t do content—wait, what? Mom! You know my brand has a specific standard. I do stuff for the younger crowd. No offense, but I don’t have a lot of older subscribers. I doubt that they will want to see what it’s like for their grandparents living at a place like this.”
“No, I know that. I was simply making the suggestion that you might work with Peter in the kitchen. You do a lot of stuff with baking, too. I’ve seen those videos.”
Quinne let out an exasperated sigh. “I haven’t done baking videos for years.”
“Well, I’m certain people would love to see that sort of thing again.”
Quinne rolled her eyes. There was no convincing her mother she was wrong when she latched on to something like this. If Mr. Spencer contacted her, she’d have to respectfully decline. Maple Gardens wasn’t the kind of place she wanted to promote. Not only that, but she wasn’t sure how people would feel knowing she’d let her mother move into a retirement community when she could take care of her all on her own.
These days influencers could get cancelled for the smallest thing.
A couple of staff pushed out trolleys laden with plates and began serving lunch. Residents settled at tables, including Alice, who had a big smile as her plate approached. Quinne glanced at her phone.
“Oh dear,” Alice said.
“What is it?”
Alice frowned. “Peter didn’t give me a roll. I really love his little bread rolls.”
Quinne rolled her eyes again. “Yeah, I know. I’m sure he’ll come out again—”
“Would you please go get me one?”
Quinne stiffened and her eyes cut to the kitchen doorway. “Mom, I don’t think I’m allowed—”
“Oh nonsense. I’ve gone in there before when he’s forgotten something. You’ll be just fine. I only need one little roll. And besides if we have to wait for him, my potatoes might be cold.”
“Fine, but if he yells at me I’m going to blame you.”
Alice smiled brightly at her. “That won’t happen, I’m sure of it.”
Shaking her head, Quinne strode toward the door. The kitchen looked like ones she’d seen in movies. Stainless-steel countertops, large stoves and ovens. Recessed lighting was mixed with pendant lights in different areas. The kitchen itself was actually impressive. She would have killed to have a place like this to do some of her baking videos.
Nope. She wasn’t even going there. She wasn’t a baker and those videos did nothing to get her where she was.
Besides, she owed it to the companies who took a chance on her to focus on their products.
A scream erupted from one side of the room and Quinne jumped. Her eyes swept through the kitchen until they landed on a little girl who was maybe nine or ten. Her hair had pink streaks running through it and it was cut short, but not as short as Quinne’s.
Quinne’s eyes widened as the girl hopped off a stool and launched toward her.
“Quinne! It’s really you! I knew you lived in Georgia, but I didn’t know you lived here.” The girl jumped up and down as another sharp squeal came from her lips. “I watch your videos every day.”
A large metal door opened, revealing Peter. His eyes immediately locked on the girl and then shifted to Quinne. He heaved a sigh and shook his head. “Great,” he muttered.
Chapter Two
It was hard to mistake Quinne Hart. The second Peter had seen her he knew Kat would freak out. He’d just hoped his daughter wouldn’t catch sight of Quinne from the doorway.
He never expected the woman to enter his cave of solitude. Peter dropped a box of apples onto a nearby counter and raked a hand through his hair. “Kat. Leave the poor woman alone.”
His daughter continued her excited jumping. “But it’s Quinne. In real life!” She spun toward him. “You have to give me your phone. My friends aren’t going to believe me.”
Peter shot a look in Quinne’s direction then brought his focus back to his daughter. “What do you need my phone for?”
“A picture. I must get a picture of her so they believe me when I tell them that she was here.” Kat pivoted and hopped onto her toes once more. “Would you be okay with a picture? Please?”
“Kat,” he warned again, but Quinne stopped him.
“I’d be happy to take a picture with you. It’s no big deal.” Her eyes landed on him and a tremor reverberated down his spine.
He’d seen her before, obviously. Despite him trying to keep his daughter off social media and away from the internet in general, Kat still knew all about the current trends and the people who were in the know.
Peter dug one hand into a pocket. The sooner he let his daughter get over her fangirling, the sooner this woman would leave his kitchen—and him—in peace. He held out the device and Kat snatched it with a huge smile.
Her bubbly voice filled the room, causing a smile to tug at his lips. It had been a rough year and Kat needed something to make it a little brighter.
Quinne ducked down to be on the same level as Kat in the pictures. Her arm was longer, so she held the phone up to take the selfie. With each additional picture taken, Peter couldn’t help but be impressed by this woman’s willingness to make a fan happy.
Kat took back the phone and swiped through the pictures, happy little squeaks coming from her lips. Peter got so caught up in her excitement, he didn’t realize that he was being watched.
When he lifted his gaze to Quinne, he found her staring. His smile faded as he stared right back. “Is there something you needed?”
“A roll.”
“A roll?”
Quinne nodded. “Yeah. A roll. You know, a small ball of flour and yeast that goes well when paired with a plate of lukewarm potatoes?”
He stiffened, the irritation returning. This was the woman he’d expected when she’d materialized in the kitchen. “I’m sorry, there is only one per person.”
“And my mother didn’t get one.”
Peter shook his head. “That’s not possible. I put one on every plate myself.”
“And you missed one.”
He rolled his eyes as he dug through the box of apples to find the ones he’d be cutting to go with breakfast in the morning. “I don’t miss.”
Quinne placed her hands on her hips. “With all due respect, you missed her plate and my mom won’t eat her potatoes without one. You might as well give me one so we can both go on our merry way.”
One apple in hand, he faced her. “Like I said, I don’t miss. Every plate was prepared the exact same way. I have a system and I know I didn’t forget. Perhaps she ate it already and didn’t realize it.”
She gasped. “My mother is not senile.”
“No one said she is. I’m only making a suggestion—”
Quinne marched over to a tray of rolls he’d pulled out of the oven just before she’d come into the kitchen. She snatched up a piece of bread before he had a chance to stop her, then she strode toward the door.
“You can’t—”
“It’s a piece of bread. I’m sure it would have gone in the garbage at some point. These people don’t eat very much as it is.” She slipped out of the kitchen, leaving him gaping at her.
Did that just happen? He shot a surprised look over to Kat, but she was still engrossed in the pictures of her with her role model. Pfft. Some role model Quinne was. If Kat had been paying attention, she probably would have been just as surprised as he was.
Peter strode over to the door and locked it. The last thing he needed was more guests entering unannounced. Especially not tall, beautiful women with pink hair and matching lipstick.
***
“See this one?”
“Uh huh.” Peter mumbled. The numbers weren’t where he wanted them to be. Maple Gardens wasn’t ever going to be in financial straits, but he prided himself on being able to feed all the residents on the budget his boss had given him.
Hence the system.
“You’re not looking.” Kat’s frustrated voice whined.
“I looked. I saw,” he insisted.
“No. You’ve been looking at your binder this whole time.”
Peter sighed. She was only ten and already she was acting more like a teenager than he would like. She was still supposed to be his little girl. He made an exaggerated show of looking at the phone she held up. Two happy faces smiled back at him, both with pink hair.
His focus immediately shifted to the young woman—the woman who’d come into his kitchen and stolen a roll. Her hair wasn’t conventional, but she pulled it off well. The bright coloring made her eyes pop even more. Kat’s smile rivaled Quinne’s as she stood beside her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his daughter that happy. “It’s a great picture,” he murmured.
“Great?” she scoffed. “It’s the best. And I can’t even put it online. Everyone at school thinks I lied.”
“You’re not getting a phone, Kat.”
“I don’t need a phone. I just want to set up an account—”
He lowered the clipboard in his hand to the counter. “Absolutely not.”
“But why? All my friends have one—”
“You know very well why. You don’t need to be part of any of that. It’s dangerous out in the real world and even more so behind a computer screen, where you can’t tell who is on the other side of things. No phone. No accounts.”
She let out an exaggerated groan. “You’re being so mean.”
He turned back to the paperwork at hand. “I’m not supposed to be nice. I’m your father.”
Kat let out another frustrated groan. “It’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t supposed to be fair.”
She muttered something under her breath and slid the phone toward him. “When are you going to let me get my own phone? I’m old enough. I know what’s bad.”
He shook his head. “No, you don’t. You have no idea what’s out there and I can’t babysit you every minute.”
She threw her head back and stomped over to the fridge. “I bet Quinne got to have accounts on social media when she was younger.”
“I’d wager that sort of stuff didn’t exist when she was your age.”
“She’s like twenty-five right now. I’m pretty sure Facebook was around back then.”
Peter glanced at Kat. “She’s twenty-five?”
“Yeah. Ten years younger than you. See? I bet you she got to have it.” Kat yanked open the fridge, holding the door out while she stared at what sat on the shelves.
“Kat.”
“What?”
“Shut the door.”
“But I’m hungry and I didn’t get lunch at school.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re letting all the cold air out. I’ve taught you better than that. Figure out what you want before you open the door.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “It doesn’t have a window. How am I supposed to know what’s inside?”
Peter got to his feet and marched across the linoleum tile toward her. He took the door and shut it before he faced her with folded arms. “You know what we have. And if you don’t, then you ask. I don’t want any of that stuff getting ruined because it didn’t stay cold.”
She rolled her eyes, the attitude returning.
His heart sank. How was he supposed to raise an almost-teenage girl all on his own? Between all the dangers that were lying in wait to do something horrendous to her—and everything that wasn’t dangerous, but taught her to be disrespectful—he had his hands full. The arrangement with her mother wasn’t working, not with Rachel traipsing all over Europe for extended periods.
Kat stomped toward the counter where she’d been sitting on the stool. She picked up his phone again and opened YouTube.
He could hear a female voice. Words like julienne and dice weren’t the usual words he heard from that device when Kat was using it. On quiet feet, he wandered behind her and peered over her shoulder.
The woman was younger, but there was no mistaking her pink hair. Quinne wore an apron, and she was explaining the different ways to cut food and why each technique was used.
“When you julienne something, you’re going to cut it into long skinny pieces. This is going to help you cook food quicker and if you do it precisely it will give an elegant look to the dish. Usually you might do this when making stir fry…”
Quinne wasn’t wearing a lot of makeup. In fact, her hair was the most unique thing about this younger version of her. Her eyes shone brighter, too. She looked like she was having the time of her life.
Kat stilled and looked over her shoulder at him. “What? You said I could watch her channel.”
“Nothing.” He continued to watch the strange pink-haired woman. “When was this posted? I didn’t know she knew how to cook.”
Kat returned her focus to the screen and nodded. “Yeah. She’s got a lot of cooking videos. She was really good at it once, but she doesn’t do them anymore.”
“Why not?” Her technique put his to shame and suddenly he felt very self-conscious of her having visited his kitchen. That thought was clearly ridiculous. He was a professional chef, and she was a glorified celebrity.
His daughter offered him a half-hearted shrug. Together they watched the screen. When that clip was over the next one started. By the time he realized he’d been wasting his afternoon, they’d gone through at least half a dozen videos of Quinne. To his surprise, he now had new ideas for plating and quirky combinations which he was confident the residents would enjoy.
When he looked down at Kat, he found her smirking at him. “You like her.”
He huffed. “Absolutely not.”
“Yes, you do. You think she’s pretty,” Kat sang, “and you want to know more about her.”
Peter patted her on the shoulder and shook his head. “At least you still have quite the imagination.”
Her eyes widened. “You should invite her to do a show here.”
He snorted, but the reaction backfired and he started to cough and his eyes to water. When he looked back at his daughter, he found her smile had widened further.
“Really, Dad. She should do a little show.”
He didn’t think it was possible, but her eyes widened even further.
“Then we could post it on a TikTok account and tag her in it and then everyone will know the photo was real.”
“No.”
“Then Insta if you’d only open an account, Dad!”
“Not Insta or TikTok or any social media.”
He settled back into his chair and marked off a few things he’d missed when he’d started working through this paperwork. “Because I said no.”
She let out a sound that resembled a large wild cat more than a ten-year-old girl and stamped toward the door. At least she wasn’t directing her anger at him. Storming off he could handle. But being the target of her fury was a different story entirely.
Peter eyed the phone she’d left behind. His eyes bounced to the door then back to the phone before he picked it up. Leaning against a nearby wall, he swiped through Quinne’s profile until he got to the earlier videos.
Maybe just one more wouldn’t hurt.