Alicia Martinez is determined to keep a low profile. After a tough year, she deletes all of her social media and retreats to the small coastal town of St Andrews in the hopes of starting over - and avoiding her tumultuous past.
Oliver Hogarth is a...
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Hattie was waiting for her outside the ice cream shop.
"Well?" she demanded. "How did it go?"
Alicia joined the queue, deliberately taking her time. Hattie could suffer a little. She deserved it, after the stunt she pulled last night. The blonde was dressed in a floral dress this afternoon — one of her own creations, probably — and the skirt jiggled as she bounced on her toes.
Hattie scowled. "Alicia!"
"It was fine."
"Fine?"
"Good," she allowed. "We went swimming."
Hattie almost tripped over the doorstep into the ice cream shop. "You went in the North Sea? In June?"
"Yes."
"Oh, god," she moaned. "He'll never ask for another date now."
Alicia held open the door for a couple. "Well, I wouldn't call yesterday a date."
"Then what would you call it?"
"A very methodical kidnapping."
They reached the counter. Alicia inhaled the scent of vanilla and freshly baked waffle cones as Hattie placed their order: a scoop of Scottish tablet (Hattie), and a scoop of elderflower (Alicia). She glanced at the poor, unsuspecting tourists next to them ordering the Irn Bru. The orange Scottish drink was an excellent hangover cure, but that was about the extent of its charms; it definitely wasn't made to be an ice cream flavor.
Alicia started in the direction of East Sands. Hattie bobbed behind her, occasionally stopping to lick her ice cream. It was one of Hattie's many quirks: walking and eating at the same time simply wasn't possible for her.
"I just don't understand," Hattie said. "Oliver's cute. He's charming. And he's only in town for a month." She licked furiously at the cone. "I know you don't want to date anyone, Leese, but it can be a fling. He's perfect."
"That's exactly the problem."
"What is?"
"He's perfect," Alicia sighed. "It makes it more difficult not to fall for him."
"Would that be so bad?"
"Of course it would." They scooted down the grassy slope, landing on the soft sand. "Don't you ever worry about that, Hattie? Losing yourself to someone?"
Alicia worried about it every day. Chameleon-like, she had changed herself repeatedly for men; she had become an avid reader for John, and a gym fanatic for Peter. In a moment of madness, Alicia had even exclusively worn knock-off designer clothes when she was going out with Monty, an Eton boy with a father in politics.
And then there was Greg.
Alicia kicked off her shoes, treading barefoot across the sand. Greg had been the most destructive of them all; she had changed everything about herself for him, and by the time they broke up, she was nothing at all. Alicia had become so lost pretending to be someone else that she couldn't remember how to find her way back to herself.
