Read Online Stranger on the Shore (Mirabelle Harbor, Book 4) by Marilyn Brant - Free Book Online

something you were thinking about while you were there, may have been the trigger. Can you recall what was running through your head prior to both episodes?”
    She couldn’t.
    “Well, a few things to consider then,” he said. “Heredity, for one. Did any of your family members suffer from panic attacks or take medication for anxiety?”
    “Not that I know of,” she said, thinking back. Had they?
    “Also, environmental factors, such as one’s parents’ espousing an overly cautious worldview during one’s childhood, or the stress of one’s work situation building up over time, have both been found to be closely correlated with panic attacks. Were family issues or, perhaps, demanding work commitments in your thoughts this afternoon?”
    Ellen tried again to recall what was going through her mind during the board meeting. She remembered thinking about her parents and her sister. That “overly cautious worldview” thing fit her family to a tee. Her parents, especially, had been suffocating when she was growing up. Cold, demanding, and unforgiving people. Thinking about their attitude made her throat tighten and gave her that familiar jolt of wanting to get far away. To be elsewhere. But it didn’t cause her to panic .
    As for her job, she loved it. Sure, it had its stressful days, but she thrived on activity. She still had no idea what could have set off such a crazy reaction, not to mention all of that sweating. And this time she’d ruined a blouse she really liked. This bizarre illness or condition—or whatever the hell it was—was wreaking havoc on her wardrobe.
    “I really just don’t have a clue,” she admitted.
    “That’s all right,” Dr. Cole said, sounding unnervingly competent and reassuring. “We’ll figure it out and get you back to one-hundred percent in no time.” She was trying very hard to still hate the man but, unfortunately, not succeeding as well as she’d like.
    She watched as he filled out the lab request form and called over to cardiology to set up an appointment for her. While her next two days would be filled with decidedly un-fun tests and procedures, the discomfort ahead wasn’t what was worrying Ellen as she walked down the long corridor to get her blood drawn.
    It was that she was going to have to talk to Jared about all of this soon. That something in their idyllic little world—a world they’d painstakingly crafted for themselves and polished through years of tiny adjustments until it was just perfect for the two of them—was going to have to change in some way. Jared really wasn’t fond of change.
    And she wasn’t either. Not when it wasn’t a change of her own making.

Chapter Seven
    In the Circle
    T hursday morning dawned bright, not a trace of the tempest that raged the night before or a drop of rain left on the baked concrete in front of the bungalow.
    I considered a quick stroll along the beach but didn’t want to chance running into Vivian until after I’d fulfilled my promise to go shopping for better beach shoes. It was time to finally venture out to St. Armand’s.
    Armed with an E-Z map from Mr. Niihau—who’d looked at me like I was insane to need directions, but he kindly gave them to me anyway—I drove the nine miles from Siesta Key, the barrier island just offshore from the city of Sarasota, down the lengthy Tamiami Trail and followed the signs north and west until I got to the John Ringling Boulevard exit. Breathtaking views of the beach abounded in this region of Florida. And crossing the bridge onto Lido Key made me feel as though I was on a grand adventure for the first time in a very long time.
    Even at ten a.m., this neighboring island was bustling with shoppers. I had to hunt for a parking spot. As I whizzed by the palm-tree-lined streets of St. Armand’s Circle, I was reminded of a confetti cake. The buildings and tourists were like handfuls of cheerful pastel swatches, tossed in the air and swirled together as if in celebration.
    I