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Driving through the blistering heat of July in South Carolina was brutal. My tiny sky-blue Prius with no working air conditioning barely made the drive here from New York. I could practically hear the grunting from the engine as I pulled into Loretta's gravel driveway, the wind from the windows being rolled down dwindling to a halt.

Anyone who stays in Darlington knows where Loretta lives. She purchased the biggest house in town, which is five minutes from her restaurant, The Starlighter. I never really understood the name, but regardless, it certainly raked her in a decent amount of money to be able to afford a place such as this. The huge white building with four pillars holding it up looks like the white house, yet it still has that southern charm. Cracks peek through the paint as I near the porch steps, smiling at the rocking chairs in the same spot, a gut-punching blow as the memory of Wyatt and I sitting in those very chairs floods into my head.

I hate that this town is so small that everywhere I look I'll have memories of Wyatt, but this house especially will be the hardest. The garden to the left of the porch has me taking a large gulp. Rows of hibiscus and hydrangea surrounded by weeping willow trees, and Wyatt's hands running through my hair as he pressed me against the bark.

"I thought you'd never get here," Loretta says as she pushes the creaky screen door open. I snap out of my thoughts and move my sunglasses up to the top of my head, my heart still hammering from the mental flashback of Wyatt and me.

"Sorry, my car isn't exactly the most stable right now. It took longer than I thought it would to get here."

"Well, go on and get yer stuff inside. We've gotta be at The Starlighter in an hour."

"Wait, I'm starting today?" I just got here after driving a straight thirteen hours. The last thing I want to do right now is work in the heat.

Loretta rolls her eyes as she pulls out a cigarette and a lighter from her pocket to spark one up. I've gotten this look from her frequently, and if it weren't for me being slightly scared of her, I'd probably roll my eyes back. She's the tiniest frail woman I've ever seen, and yet I've witnessed her throw six-foot men out the door of her restaurant with one hand. She's a woman the entire town knows not to mess with, which is why I moved in the matter of three days to help her out. Loretta runs this town and everyone who lives or has lived in it, and she knows it.

"Did ya think I would take it easy on ya? There's no special treatment. I don't care if ya gotta get used to country life again or not. I'm givin' ya a place to lay yer head and food in yer belly, so bring yer things inside, get dressed, and then we're leavin'."

"Okay," I say, and then she narrows her eyes, icy and cold-blooded before I quickly clear my throat and add, "Yes, ma'am." God, I have to get used to being in the south again.

_________

I didn't even have the time to shower, so I'm still sweaty from the drive when we pull into the rocky parking lot outside The Starlighter. I threw my hair up with a claw clip and changed into a pair of white jean shorts and a tank top with black flip-flops. Loretta didn't say anything about a dress code, and of all the times I've been here in the past, the waitresses never wore a uniform. The more provocative they looked, the more tips they earned.

Out the window, I peer up at the building, furrowing my eyebrows together as I examine the exterior. It's all changed since I was last here. I mean, it was eight years ago, so upgrades were bound to happen, but I always thought Loretta didn't care about any of that. She once told me that she'd never change this place for anything.

"The hurricane got it pretty bad," she says, seeming to read my thoughts. "I had no choice but to have it fixed. They're still fixin' the inside, but when the pandemic hit it kinda worked in our favor. The kitchen is in workin' condition, so we've been servin' folks out on the deck for a bit. I'm hopin' that the inside can be done by the end of the summer before the cold weather blows in."

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