Della

Book One
Enchanted Island Series
Sneak peek! Coming soon!

Chapter One

Chapter One

Minneapolis/St. Paul International Airport

Della Delaney stared out the car window at the cold, dark clouds covering the January sky, wondering if she’d made the right decision or if she’d wasted her last dollar pursuing the wrong dream. Her trip to Enchanted Island would either be the most successful gamble she’d ever undertaken or the most spectacular failure of her life. Was the risk worth it? She sighed.

I’ll never know unless I try…

“There’s the Delta sign,” her mother exclaimed as her dad drove through the busy airport departure drop-off area.

Bill Delaney maneuvered his way across two slow-moving lanes of traffic toward the entrance to the Delta check-in area and quickly pulled into a space behind another car as it drove away. He parked the car and jumped out to retrieve Della’s bags from the back of the SUV.

Della grabbed her soft-sided carry-on bag and started to open the car door when her mother, sitting in the front seat, turned to her with a serious frown. “Be sure to give us a call when you land,” Rachel Delaney said in a worried, motherly tone. “And be careful with your carry-on bag. You never know what kind of person you’re sitting next to at the gate. It would be awful if someone stole your phone or your laptop.”

Mom, Della thought wearily, I’m twenty-five, not fifteen. I know enough to watch my stuff.

“Okay, I’ll remember,” she said dutifully as she zipped her pink hoodie and opened the car door, anxious to get into the terminal and be on her way. She met her father at the car’s open tailgate to grab her large bag.

“Geez,” Bill complained as he hoisted the second one out of the car. “How much stuff did you pack for two weeks? This bag weighs a ton. If it goes over the weight allowance, it’s gonna cost you extra.”

“You never know what you’re going to need,” Della replied with a nervous laugh. She’d packed her scissors, blow dryers, and other tools of her trade with a few outfits, but he didn’t need to know that. If he did, he’d start second-guessing every little detail of her plans and either try to talk her out of the trip or insist on going with her. No way—this was something she needed to do on her own.

She had two weeks to make a major decision about her future and when she did, he would be the first to know. Until then, she was merely going on vacation with a friend. That was her story for now and she was sticking to it.

“Have a good time, honey,” Bill said and pressed a hundred-dollar bill into her hand. “This is from me and Mom. Buy yourself something nice on the island.”

“Thanks, Mom! Thanks, Dad!” Shoving the bill into her pocket, she hugged her parents with a hurried goodbye and hauled her bag through the automatic doors into the terminal, heading for the Delta check-in area. Laughter and excited chatter of the early morning mob of happy travelers filled the huge lobby as she maneuvered her way toward the Delta kiosk to print her bag tags. After her bags were tagged and sent to be screened, she got into the long, slow-moving line going through security screening and thirty minutes later, arrived at her gate in the G concourse to board her plane bound for Miami.

She didn’t relax until she’d collapsed into her seat on the plane and stared out the window at the leaden sky. “B-r-r-r,” she murmured to herself at the large flakes falling against her window. Depending on how things went on Enchanted Island, this might be the last time she saw snow for a long, long while.

Reaching down, she pulled a sheet of paper from her carryon and unfolded it, reading it for the umpteenth time with the same nervous excitement and anticipation she had the day she’d received it.

            From: lcbrown@edo.ei.gov

            Friday, January 10th

Good morning! Thank you for your request to the Enchanted Island Economic Development Office small business grant program. Your application has been reviewed and approved for a matching grant in the amount of $5,000. Attached is the official agreement with details specific to the terms and conditions of the grant, reporting requirements, usage restrictions, and the timeline for disbursement.

As part of the program, the Enchanted Island Women’s Business Association (EIWBA) has assigned one of their members to welcome you to the island. Elsie Dubois, owner of Bella’s Enchanted B&B is looking forward to assisting you through the process. Her contact information is listed in the agreement.

Please accept my sincere congratulations and do not hesitate to contact me if you have any questions!

All my best,

 

Ladonya Brown

Grant Administrator

Enchanted Island Economic Development Office

1000 Main Street #304

Morganville, EI 00500

lcbrown@edo.ei.gov

 

She’d never been to Enchanted Island and had no idea what lay ahead, but it didn’t matter. The prospect of spending two weeks on an idyllic Caribbean Island with beautiful sun-kissed beaches, mouth-watering cuisine bursting with vibrant flavors and island spices, and warm tropical air in the dead of winter sounded like heaven. Her first order of business, however, was to contact Elsie Dubois to view the property assigned to her to set up her salon. She’d already decided on a name, Island Glow Hair Studio. In her mind, she visualized a spacious, light-filled salon with large windows, trendy music, and a chic, modern vibe. Putting together something that sophisticated, however, would cost a lot more money than the paltry ten grand she had.

What if I fail?

Her stomach lurched at the thought. I’ll never know until I try, she thought stubbornly. Besides, it’s too late to turn back now. I’ve accepted the grant, and they just shut the door on the plane. I’m on my way!

*     *     *

Miami Ferry Terminal

Later that day

Logan Chandler adjusted the strap of his art portfolio bag as he approached the boarding ramp to the ferry, slipping it over his head in cross-body fashion just in case he needed to make a quick exit. Over the past five days, hotel rooms and Uber rides to art galleries around Miami had maxed out the limit of his credit card. An hour ago, he’d paid for a burger combo for a homeless guy he’d encountered in front of The Shake Shack and now he realized he didn’t have enough money to buy a ticket to Enchanted Island. He was tired, discouraged, and wanted to go home, so he had to get creative. Looking around, he saw the perfect opportunity just ahead.

Short and frail, Dodie Pinder stooped over her footed cane in her egg yolk-yellow pantsuit, slowly shuffling toward the boarding ramp. Logan had known the dark-skinned, white-haired lady for most of his life. Poor Miss Dodie had suffered the misfortune of being his elementary school principal.

“Miss Dodie,” he greeted in his most charming voice as he set down his green duffel bag and deftly slipped his fingers through the handle of her shopping bag. “Let me help you with that.”

She glanced up, a horrified expression darkening her face as she squinted to get a better look at him. “Logan? Logan Chandler? You give me that bag back right now!”

“I will as soon as I get you on board, okay?” He slid his arm around her waist. “Come along.” He projected a concerned look at the employee scanning tickets. “Excuse us. My Aunt Dodie needs to use the wheelchair entrance right away. She’s feeling faint.”

“What? I’m not feeling faint,” Dodie snapped, “and I’m not your aunt! I can walk up the ramp by myself. Go away, Logan. Wherever you go, trouble follows!”

The ferry employee, a tall, Jamaican man with salt and pepper hair wearing dark slacks and a light blue, short-sleeved shirt stepped forward with his portable scanner. “Your ticket please.”

Dodie held out her season pass to have it scanned. Logan ignored the man and continued to move Dodie along.

“Your ticket, sir?”

Logan set their bags on the ramp and reached into his pocket, pulling out a wrinkled ticket from a former trip. He flashed it in the man’s face and crumpled it in his palm. “I need to get my aunt settled first. Then I’ll be back.”

The man frowned, glancing back and forth from Dodie’s dark face to Logan’s light skin as though not quite believing his story.

Logan responded with a carefree shrug, grabbed the bags, and kept moving until he’d escorted Dodie to the first row of seats inside the main cabin. “Here you are,” he said to her as he held her hand to keep her balance while she sat down. “Here’s your bag.”

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” she snapped and grabbed her red cloth shopping bag, plopping it on the seat next to her. “A spoiled brat who thinks the rules are for everyone else but you. And don’t even think of sitting here. The next time you use me to get on board without paying, I’m going to report you!”

“You’re welcome...” he murmured as he walked away, heading for the lower level where the transported vehicles were stored. “Even a brat has to grow up eventually.” The last five days were frustrating and depressing proof that growing up in a wealthy home didn’t guarantee future success or happiness. Sadly, at this point, he had no clue what did.

He found an unlocked SUV and slipped into the back seat to change clothes. Pulling off his white polo shirt, he grabbed a black t-shirt from his duffel bag and a matching bill cap. He slipped on the items and completed his new look with a pair of black shades.

One long blast indicated that the ferry was leaving the dock.

Armed with his new identity, Logan left the SUV and stealthily made his way up to the main deck to blend in with the crowd. The deep, methodical hum of the ship’s engines mixing with laughter and happy conversations of hundreds of passengers filling the cavernous, two-story room made it easy for him to make the hour-long trip to Morganville unnoticed.

Across the room, the ticket inspector stood in the doorway, staring into the crowd. Suspecting who he might be looking for, Logan headed to the opposite side of the room to find a place to sit. Looking across rows and rows of bright blue loungers, he found an empty seat next to a pretty young woman about his age with sandy-colored hair and wearing a long, pink sundress. “Is this seat taken?”

“What?” She glanced at him, looking distracted.

“May I sit here? Or is this seat for someone else? Your boyfriend perhaps?”

She blinked, as though she had been deep in thought. “Um…no. I mean, I don’t have a boyfriend. You’re free to sit down.”

She had the prettiest deep blue eyes, like one of the richest shades of sapphire paint he’d ever used on canvas. Her soft, sand-colored hair accentuated with streaks of blonde nearly reached her elbows.

“Are you getting off at Morganville or are you going all the way to Nassau?” he asked as he slowly sunk into the seat next to her and dropped his duffel bag on the floor. He pulled off his portfolio bag, resting it against the seat ahead of him.

“I’m going to Morganville,” she said and stared out the window.

“Me, too,” he offered. “I live on the island. Been there most of my life.”

She swiftly turned toward him, her eyes widening with curiosity. “Really? Do you like it there?”

“I guess so. Never really thought about it before. Why do you ask?”

Her pink-tinted lips spread a generous smile, lighting up her oval face. “I received a grant from the Island Economic Development Office. I’m going to explore setting up a business on the island!”

She looked so happy that he didn’t want to burst her bubble. Most of the small businesses on the island failed because they couldn’t compete with the trendy shops in the resorts. Sadly, once she’d used up her grant money, she’d find out for herself.

Despite his cynicism, he couldn’t help smiling back. “So, you got a grant, huh? You’re one of the lucky ones.”

“Oh?” She looked so sweet when she frowned. “You sound like you’re speaking from personal experience.”

“Not really. It’s just that most of the people I know who applied for one got turned down. What kind of business are you going to open?”

She gathered her long hair and pulled it over one shoulder. “A salon that specializes in trendy haircuts and other services like hair straightening and extensions.” She glanced at his art portfolio. “What kind of business would you start if you received a grant?”

Logan sat back and drew a tense breath. After the disappointing results he’d received this week, he had no idea. “I don’t know.”

She looked puzzled. “Well, what are you passionate about?”

“My paintings,” he replied slowly, finding it painful to talk about. “But they’re not very inspiring, or so I’ve been told.”

“What?” she persisted. “By whom?”

He leaned forward and grabbed his art. “By nearly every art gallery in Miami.” He unzipped the portfolio case and pulled out the top watercolor.

She let out a surprised gasp at a picture of a pink sand beach and colorful buildings on the island. “It’s beautiful! You’re a wonderful artist.”

“Would you like to have it? Take them all, and the bag, too.” He let out a long sigh of defeat. “I don’t have any use for them. Not anymore.”

She slid the watercolor back into the case on the floor. “That’s a terrible thing to say, mister, um…”

“Logan,” he replied. “Logan Chandler. And you?”

“Della Delaney.” She turned toward him and placed her hand on his knee. “You can’t give up, Logan. You’re very talented!”

He didn’t know if he had talent or not, but he couldn’t concentrate enough right now to even think about it. The soft impression of her hand on his knee distracted him so much he could hardly breathe, much less think about the empty, meaningless future facing him if he gave up his art. “Ah…right,” he said and quickly stood. “Well, I wish you the best of luck, Ms. Delaney. It’s been nice chatting with you.” He grabbed his duffel bag and turned away.

“Logan, wait! You forgot your art bag!”

Ignoring her pleas, he shuffled to the end of the row and headed for a seat on the upper deck. He needed the sunny breeze and the soothing, peaceful view of the crystal-clear water to lift his mood. As he climbed the stairs into the open air, the shrill cry of gulls circling the ferry begging the tourists to toss them snacks cut through the roar of the waves. The salty wind rushed against his face. He leaned against the railing and stared across the shimmering turquoise waves, wondering if letting go of his dreams would make the ache in his chest disappear—or only make the pain worse.

He feared the answer.

 End of Chapter One

Coming soon!