Chapter One

Lana hated parties. She hated drinking, too, for that matter. Now heading into her fourth year of college, she had already seen her fair share and realized early in her first year that parties were nothing but trouble. Drunken guys and scantily clad drunker girls acted foolishly and usually ended up in bed with someone they just met that night and would probably never speak to again.

She wanted the whole college experience and left her small town to attend a large university to get it. She got way more than she had bargained for and found out she wasn’t as experienced as she thought. The shine of college nightlife wore off fast, and she was glad it had. A dull and peaceful life was a lot safer, and her grades were much better.

She didn’t know anyone, having come from out of state, so when a couple of girls from her English class invited her out, she was flattered. She wasn’t an innocent babe in the woods by any means, but she never imagined the level of partying that went on in college until she experienced it for herself, all in the name of making a few friends. That was all in the past now. Her friends were her books, her studies, and her job.

The few weeks until summer break felt like forever, but classes were finally complete for the year. All she could think about was going full-time at her part-time job and not seeing a single face she knew from her classes for ten weeks. She imagined a whole summer of serving locals at the diner and spending her evenings quietly reading or binge-watching Netflix shows—alone.

She had to keep working because she needed the money. She barely made enough to eat out occasionally, let alone cover luxuries like her cell phone bill or rent. She lost her athletic scholarship due to a partial tear in her right bicep during a swim meet, which kept her out of the state nationals in her senior year of high school. She qualified for financial aid, but that wasn’t helping her make ends meet for now.

That’s what led her to look for a roommate. She was fortunate enough to rent a spacious second-floor, two-bedroom apartment in a private home owned by an elderly lady less than a mile from the diner. It was more than she needed, but the house was already furnished, and the lady was quiet and maintained a beautiful garden. It felt as close to home as she could get for $800 a month. The lady, Mrs. Blanchard, had even agreed to knock $100 off if Lana did all the cleaning. It was a large house, but the woman was impeccably clean, as was she, so she felt she was getting a good deal in a way. However, there was no way she could refuse.

When she approached Mrs. Blanchard about finding a roommate, the woman initially seemed apprehensive, but after some thought, she agreed on the grounds that it would be month-to-month and that Lana would be responsible for any issues with whomever she chose. Lana was grateful that Mrs. Blanchard thought so highly of her, and she absolutely loved her little balcony. It was actually the landing to the outside steps that led up to her apartment, but it was spacious enough for a small round table and two deck chairs, which she made use of almost nightly. Her favorite ritual was to sit outside and read by the porch light.

Only tonight was different.

Lana’s little slice of heaven overlooked a valley behind Mrs. Blanchard’s. In that valley sat the Sanders Scientific Institute. She could see the lights in the distance, about a mile away, and the occasional airplane passing overhead, but the stars would often steal her attention from the pages of her books. She’d gaze up at them and imagine which ones were planets. With little to no light pollution and 40 miles from the nearest city, she had a stellar view most nights.

“Wait? What?” she said, setting her book on the small resin table and sitting up straight. “What the heck was that?” She stood and walked to the balcony rail, believing somehow a few more feet would give her a better look from a mile away.

Lana had heard stories about the Sanders Institute from a fellow waitress at the diner, but never took them seriously. She’d also heard tales from people at school, but she put no stock in those. However, none of that nonsense could tell her she wasn’t seeing what she knew she was seeing.

A bright light had flown in from the east and was now hovering over the South side of the institute. She watched as the light pulsed, growing brighter and then dimmer. She couldn’t look away until, suddenly, it flew off in the direction it came from like a bullet.

Lana had no idea how long she’d been standing there, but the late May chill had stolen the warmth from the evening, and she was covered in goosebumps. She rubbed her tired eyes, picked up her book, and headed inside to go to bed.

As she switched off the porch light, she continued to wonder what the hell was happening and what she’d seen. She pushed the door closed, locked it, and stepped to the kitchen sink for a glass of water to take with her to the bedroom, leaving her book on the small kitchen table. Then, she quietly padded through the living room and down the hallway to her bedroom.

Her pale yellow curtains, now appearing beige in the darkness of her room, swayed slightly in the evening breeze like gentle waves rippling on the ocean’s surface. She sighed, again recalling the strange sight from her balcony. She pushed it from her mind as she checked the alarm on her cell phone.

“Go to sleep, Lana. 6:00 am comes early.”

She pulled her light coverlet up over her shoulder and turned on her side. Sleep began to fall quickly upon her until she heard a deep, distinctly male voice whisper.

“It’s me.”

Her eyes opened as if her alarm had gone off. She clutched the coverlet tightly, pulling it over her head for a moment, and then touched her small table lamp on the nightstand, illuminating the room. It was silent, with nothing out of place.

“You’re being ridiculous. Go to sleep,” Lana murmured, touched the lamp again, and closed her eyes.

***

Although Lana valued her privacy and peace above all else, when Willie called inquiring about her ad in the student newsletter, the only call she had received, she decided to meet her and check her out.

About fifteen minutes before the lunch rush at the diner, her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She motioned to her coworker Malik to cover for her as she slipped out the back door.

“Hey, is this Lana Delany?” Willie asked when Lana answered the call.

“Yes, it is. And you are?”

“Willie Lake. I’m calling about your ad for a roommate.”

“Oh, yes. I was starting to think no one had seen it. Are you a student at the university?”

“Yes, but I’ve decided to stay in town for the summer, so I need a place to crash. So, you live off-campus, right?

“Yes. About half a mile away from school, not far from the Summit Diner—that’s where I work. Do you know where that is?” Lana asked.

“Bonnem Street by the little park, right?”

“Yes. Look, I get off at six o’clock. Can you meet me here at the diner then? That way, we can chat over coffee,” Lana answered.

“Yeah. Sure. I can make that.”

“Great. I’ll see you around six o’clock.”

Lana thought Willie sounded nice enough. She had a slight edge in her voice and a hip, non-snobby tone. The last thing Lana wanted was some high-maintenance bubblehead hogging the bathroom every day. She supposed she’d know if they’d be a good fit once she met Willie. Lana smiled at her phone, dashed back inside through the diner’s back door, and thanked her coworker Malik for covering for her while she had taken Willie’s call.

“Everything good?” Malik asked as he bent to set a tray of dirty dishes on the kitchen counter.

“Yes. Hopefully. I think I’ve found a potential roommate. Here, let me,” she said, taking the dishes and piling them in the big sink to be rinsed for the dishwasher.

“Hey, did you hear all the chatter about the UFO last night?” Malik asked.

Lana froze and dropped a dish into the sink. It landed against the stainless steel with a loud bang. “Sorry,” she whined.

“You can’t break those things. They’re made of some iron-plated plastic or something,” Malik laughed. “So, the old timers this morning were saying it flew in and stopped right over Sanders. Wish I could have seen it, but I was up to my eyeballs in Call of Duty.”

Lana turned and quietly said, “I-I think I saw it too.”

“Huh?” Malik said, dropping the dish sprayer over the sink.

“I was sitting on my deck reading, and something bright flew in and-”

“Lana?” they heard Donovan call from out front.

“You’d better get back out there. A bunch of those doctors from Sanders just came in for lunch. Candy can’t handle them all by herself,” Malik warned.

“Sanders?” she said, wincing.

Lana dried her hands, nodded, and patted Malik on the shoulder. As she passed through the double swinging doors, she noticed Candy pushing three tables together and rearranging the chairs so the doctors could all sit together. She immediately jumped in to help.

“Here, let me,” Lana said.

“Thanks, Lana. You’re a sweetheart,” Candy said. “How about you reset the table while I get their drink order?”

Lana looked around at the other dozen or so patrons and noticed they were all served. As the group took their seats, she stepped behind the counter, silently counting napkins and silverware for each person. There were four men, ranging in age from the late twenties to the mid-sixties, and two attractive yet professional-looking women. One was a mature-looking Asian woman, and the other was in her early twenties, and Lana assumed she might be a student.

“Hello. Welcome to the Summit. Candy will take your drink orders,” Lana said as she set the cutlery and napkins before each patron.

“Oh, you won’t be serving us?” the man, who appeared to be the oldest in the group, asked with a twinkling blue-eyed smile behind his silver wire-framed glasses.

“We’re a bit shorthanded now that school’s out, so I’m just helping out.”

“Lana, is it?” he asked as she placed the last napkin, knife, and fork in front of one of the women.

She glanced down at the name tag on the front of her yellow polo shirt and smiled. “Yes, sir,” she said.

“How is it I’ve never seen you before? We come here almost every day for lunch.”

“I usually work evenings due to school, but for the summer, I’m working full-time,” she answered, and an awkwardness fell over her. She usually didn’t chat with the customers at all. She walked away and began tending to her booth patrons, many of whom were sneaking curious glances at the people from Sanders.

Lana and Candy split the customers between them. One took the booths and one the tables, alternating each day. Malik bussed tables, cleaned, and helped Raymond Washington, the cook. Donovan Dawson, the owner, worked the counter and the cash register. Only Donovan was allowed to touch the cash register.

After filling water glasses and a few cups of coffee, Lana rushed to the kitchen to help Candy gather her orders for the scientists. Lana carried the tray while Candy served plates of club sandwiches, salads, and a cheeseburger with fries. Lana could feel the older doctor’s blue eyes on her as she handed the plates to Candy, but she dared not meet them. Although his eyes twinkled and he seemed harmless, Lana wasn’t fond of people staring at her.

After her freshman partying phase, Lana discarded her makeup, sexy clothes, and heels, trading them for baggy T-shirts, Vans sneakers, and loose-fitting cargo pants. She distanced herself from her peers and immersed herself in her studies. Now, she cloaked her healthy swimmer’s body in neutral colors that she believed made her less noticeable and helped her blend into the background wherever she went.

That was the worst part about working at The Summit—the damn yellow polo shirts. The only consolation was that they all wore them, even Donovan. However, even with her hair tied back in a braid, she couldn’t mask its shimmering shades of gold and amber, nor could she conceal her wholesome glow and the light band of dark blond freckles that looked like stardust across her nose and full cheeks.

“Thanks, honey,” Candy said as they walked back into the kitchen together.

“No problem,” Lana mumbled, grabbing a clean water pitcher.

“Are you all right?” Candy inquired with a tone of concern.

Lana swept a few loose strands of hair behind her ear and quickly rushed to the sink to wash her hands. “Yes. I’m fine. I’d better get out there and refill this. The man in booth five is drinking it as fast as I can fill his glass,” she chuckled, grabbing the pitcher and racing back behind the counter. As she opened the ice machine to scoop some cubes into the pitcher, she heard the older doctor call her name.

“Lana? May I see you for a moment?”

She fumbled the ice scoop and nearly dropped the ice chest door, but collected herself, turned, looked at the man, and nodded. She felt embarrassed and didn’t understand why the man rattled her. She had never even seen him before.

Once she poured the man in booth five’s third glass of water, she stepped to the large table, a safe distance from whom she noted was Dr. Marcus T. Carter, according to the name embroidered in red on his lab coat.

“You needed something, sir? I… I mean, Doctor?” she asked.

“Doctor Carter, Lana. We might as well get to know each other since we’ll be seeing each other nearly every day for the rest of the summer,” he said, smiling. “I was going to ask you what you were studying in school.”

“Oh,” she said, suddenly realizing she was being irrational and this man meant her no ill will. He was old enough to be her grandfather. “I’m majoring in Psychology, but I’m minoring in Biology.”

“You want to teach someday?” he asked, resting his wrists against the edge of the table as he leaned back a bit.

“Practice, most likely. I just finished the third year of my bachelor’s. I’m still figuring things out.”

“You have plenty of time. Here’s my card. If you ever need some advice, feel free to call,” Dr. Carter said, pulling out his wallet and handing her a card.

Lana stepped next to him and took the card from his hand. “Thank you, Dr. Carter.”

“Don’t let him fool you, Lana. He’s always trying to recruit for the research institute,” the Asian woman said.

“What were you studying when Dr. Carter gave you his card?” the youngest-looking and classically handsome man asked the woman sarcastically, already knowing the answer.

“Sports medicine. I was going to work with professional athletes, but Dr. Carter found me working at a sporting goods store in the mall selling golf clubs,” she chuckled. “While he was selecting a new putter—Ping Zing, I believe —he asked if I was a student at the university. In this town, during the winter, almost everyone under thirty attends the university. After a brief chat, he gave me his card, and now, I’m a research scientist in the new studies development department.”

Lana’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, Doctor. I’ll keep that in mind.” She smiled, her bright white teeth showing, and her light green eyes sparkled.

“I consider it my obligation to encourage women to pursue careers in STEM. There aren’t enough brilliant women in the field,” Dr. Carter said. “You hold onto that card, Lana, and as I said, should you need any advice, please don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

As Malik cleared the plates and the doctors paid their bills, Candy rushed to Lana and pulled her into the kitchen.

“Look!” she shouted in a whisper. Fifty dollars! Twenty-five for each of us!” she exclaimed as she handed Lana her half.

“Oh, no. I can’t take this. You did most of the work.”

“Don’t be silly. He wrote it on the check to split it with you,” Candy insisted.

Lana looked down at the money and smiled, then back at Candy. “Do they always leave tips like this?”

“The check only came to a hundred and five dollars. This is The Summit, Lana, not Fogo de Chao,” she whispered.

“What are you two up to?” Malik asked as he carried the dishes from the doctor’s table.

Lana leaned in and said, “We really should give Malik some like we always do.”

Candy ran to where she kept her purse and grabbed a ten. “Malik? Here,” she said, handing him the money. “Thank you for clearing the table so quickly.”

Lana smiled and returned to waiting on her booth patrons for the remainder of the afternoon. She repeatedly checked the time, and the closer it got to six o’clock, the more she watched the door to see if Willie had arrived. She worried that the girl might back out, but at ten minutes until six, a pretty girl about her height strolled in, dressed in a black shirt and skirt, black fishnets, and low black boots, and started for the counter toward Donovan.

“May I help you?” Lana said, stopping the girl before she reached him.

“Yeah, I’m looking for Lana?”

“Hi,” Lana smiled, sticking out her hand. “That’s me.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Willie Lake.”

“Nice to meet you, too. Shall we grab a booth and talk?”

“Sure thing.” Willie followed her to an empty booth, her eyes scanning the diner.