Picture Perfect (Butler Island)

This
book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either
products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

Copyright
© 2012 by Nikki Rittenberry

All
rights reserved. No part of this book may be stored, reproduced or transmitted
in any form or any means without express written permission by the author.
www.nikkirittenberry.com

Manufactured
in the United States of America

ISBN:
978-0615580951

For Jillian, Ashley, and Amy:

My biggest cheerleaders

Thank you for your unconditional friendship and
unyielding support. And most of all, thank you for accepting my many
imperfections.

“The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up
on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself.”

—Anna Quindlen

Picture Perfect

PROLOGUE

“
A
nd this is going to be your room”, Ty
said as he opened the door.

Olivia glanced around the room for a
moment and then slowly walked to the full-size bed positioned in front of the
window. She placed her duffel bag on the worn Dukes of Hazard comforter from
Ty’s childhood and gradually unzipped it, revealing her most prized
possessions.

“The moving truck should be here in a
couple days and then we can redecorate this room with all of your stuff.” Ty
watched as his little sister carefully unpacked her collection of Beanie
Babies, lining them along the edge of the bed against the wall, organizing them
in a specific pattern that only she could decipher.

“You’re really going to love it here;
we’re only five blocks from the beach. The water’s finally warming up, too. By
this time next month the temperature should reach into the upper seventies…”

The duffel bag had become deflated
now that the Beanie Babies were freed. Olivia reached into the nylon material
and retrieved a framed portrait of her parents. She gazed at the picture for a
few long beats and then gently placed the frame on the adjacent oak nightstand.

That simple gesture tore his heart
into a million little pieces. No child should have to endure the kind of grief
that his little sister had. It’d been almost three weeks since he’d received
the dreaded call that both his parents had been killed in a horrific car
accident after leaving a restaurant in downtown Atlanta. He’d driven six
torturous hours after that call to be by his little sister’s side, all the
while trying to imagine how a nine year old little girl would cope with such a
devastating loss.

He’d arrived with the expectation
that he’d have to comfort a hysterical and emotionally unstable little girl;
instead he encountered a child who seemed devoid of emotions almost entirely.
At the funeral it was
she
who’d consoled loved ones and friends of the
family. In fact—as far as he knew—she hadn’t shed a single tear. The social
worker assigned to their case had assured him that
“everyone grieves
differently”,
and her method—as strange as it seemed—was actually quite
common.

It was important to him that Olivia
was loved and nurtured. Fearing that she would be thrown into the system,
raised by strangers, he’d submitted paperwork to become her legal guardian. It
wasn’t exactly the scenario he’d pictured for himself; he’d graduated from the
fire academy last fall and had moved to Butler Island, Florida five months ago
after he’d been hired by their small fire department. He didn’t make a lot of
money, but he had great benefits, a roof over his head, and an overwhelming
sense of responsibility for his new circumstances.

“You don’t have a thing to worry
about. I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you with me and I promise
I’ll never leave you…”

Olivia looked up at her older brother
and nodded, and then recited a silent prayer that the courts would grant him
permanent guardianship. He was all she had and the sudden awareness terrified
her. She knew he’d be giving up the one thing that most nineteen year olds’ long
for: independence. He was risking the best years of his life to take care of
her and she didn’t take that lightly. She’d decided she was going to walk the
straight and narrow, refusing to give Ty a reason to regret his selfless
decision to take care of her.

“Are you hungry?” she asked in her
adorable southern accent. “I can make us a bowl of grits—it’s my specialty.”

Ty chuckled softly under his breath.
Her world had been turned upside down and yet she was at it again: attempting
to comfort him when it was
she
that clearly needed comforting. Their
parents were dead. Gone forever. But he and Olivia were still very much alive.
Somehow, he needed to guide her through this unimaginable time in her life and
attempt to restore some sense of normalcy. So if making her specialty grits
accomplished that—who was he to argue?

“A big bowl of grits sounds great…”

CHAPTER 1

Olivia Everitt glanced at the
interstate sign.

“Thirty more miles”, she mumbled
softly under her breath. She’d left her apartment in New Orleans just before
rush hour and had pointed her black Mini Cooper east on I-10 toward the Florida
Panhandle. It’d been nine long years since she’d been home. She’d left Butler
Island two days after she’d graduated high school and never looked back. Her good
grades had landed her a full scholarship at a small college in Northern
Louisiana where she’d studied her passion: photography.

The freedom to pack up and leave at a
moment’s notice was one of the things she loved most about being a freelance
photographer. She answered to no one and only pursued the projects that piqued
her interests. Her first big break came three years ago after a devastating
cluster of tornadoes demolished a small town just outside of Little Rock,
Arkansas in early ‘08. She’d captured a photograph of a little girl with her
back turned, standing on a mound of rumble, clutching her filthy baby doll
against her side. The black and white photograph had made the cover of
Adversity Magazine, well-known for documenting disasters, both natural and
man-made. Since then she’d traveled the country, following catastrophe where
ever it reared its ugly head.

Olivia down-shifted and steered her
car away from the interstate, merging onto the desolate two-lane road that led
to the slow-paced life of Butler Island. The winding road carved a path through
the colossal pine forest, her surroundings seemingly unchanged since the last
time she’d traveled it. This was the segment of Florida that most of the
country was unaware of: far from the vain atmosphere of South Beach, hundreds
of miles from the tourist traps of Orlando, and secluded from the nightlife of
Panama City Beach. Traveling this road gave visitors a glimpse into how the
area must have looked to settlers centuries ago: unmarred, serene, divine.

The decision to return home had been
a spur-of-the-moment one. During her weekly Wednesday night conversation with
Ty the night before, she’d discovered that his estranged wife, Cameron, had
served him with divorce papers. It was no surprise to Olivia, but she couldn’t
exactly say the same about her brother.

Cameron was what the town called a
“part-time local.” Her family visited every year at the beginning of the summer
and returned to their real home in Illinois by summers’ end. Six years ago
Cameron had been in town for a family reunion and had managed to get the heel
of her stiletto wedged between two boards while walking on the pier. She’d
stumbled and twisted her ankle just as Ty was leaving the local saloon. Always
a perfect gentleman, Ty dislodged her designer shoe and assisted her to her
feet. They’d spent the next few weeks together and had made a surprisingly
spontaneous decision to marry.

The news of his marriage had come as
a shock to Olivia—their brief courtship incapable of predicting their compatibility.
He’d overextended himself to make Cameron happy: remodeling their home,
installing a pool, purchasing a flashy sports car. In the end his efforts
weren’t enough. Several months ago she’d been having coffee with a friend at
the local café when she’d spotted a good-looking executive in town for the
annual Oyster Festival. The celebration was the island’s only claim to fame,
attracting locals and tourists from out of state. She’d had an affair with the
visiting businessman and three days later, packed her bags and headed north,
leaving behind a farewell letter and her two karat diamond ring.

Olivia knew that he’d been secretly
holding out hope that Cameron would return home, however the sudden arrival of
the divorce documents painfully signaled to Ty the finality of their
separation. His world was unraveling. Although he would never outwardly admit
it, he needed his little sister. He’d made a selfless decision to take care of
her eighteen years ago and now it was time for her to return the favor.

“Welcome home”, she mumbled as she
crossed the Mainland Bridge that led to Butler Island. The town was dark and
eerily quiet. She thought about what she’d be doing if she was back in New
Orleans: at ten-thirty at night, the Crescent City would just be coming to
life. Butler Island took pride in its slow-paced lifestyle: the annual Oyster
Festival and Winter Fest were traditionally the biggest news stories of the
year. Not so great for a photographer who specialized in capturing tragedy and
devastation, but Ty had nonchalantly mentioned there’d been a slew of fires the
previous month and a half that had been ruled
suspicious
. It wasn’t
national breaking news exactly, but in her island hometown that was probably as
good as it would get.

The vehicle rolled to a stop
underneath the covered carport and after taking a deep breath, Olivia emerged
from behind the wheel and grabbed her luggage. Once the front door was opened
she stepped inside and slid her fingers up the wall in search of the light
switch. Flipping the switch upward she let out a gasp… This was the home she’d
grown up in since the age of nine and she didn’t recognize this place one iota.

“Sweet baby Jesus”, she muttered as
she glanced around the redecorated living room. Their old denim-covered couch
had been replaced with a sleek, red leather sectional and the white coffee
table she’d spent countless hours coloring on as a kid had been replaced with a
hefty, glass-top table.

The kitchen was utterly
unrecognizable as well: the outdated oak cabinetry was now painted a deep shade
of gray, contrasting vividly against the white marble countertop. Appliances
were stainless steel and the floor was comprised of slate. The sliding glass
door had been replaced by French doors, which led to a covered patio and a rectangular-shaped
pool.

Olivia retraced her steps back into
the living room and picked up her luggage before making the journey down the
hall to her bedroom. She flipped the switch and stood in awe. Everything was…
exactly
how she’d left it nine years ago
.