by Ellis, C. R.
I frowned and pushed the quilt off, suddenly feeling hot. “And y’all have no clue what I said? I didn’t mention anything after Sophia left?”
Milo shook his head, sending his shaggy brown locks cascading across his forehead. “Nope. One minute y’all were shouting and slinging insults in that delightful sisterly way y’all do, the next she was running off. All you would say is that you were just looking out for her, and she didn’t need to take things so personally.”
“Great. Why didn’t one of you interfere?” I groaned.
Milo shrugged. “Because that would’ve been like trying to stop a train from derailing after it’s already veering off the tracks.”
“Fair enough. Is she…still here?”
“No, she went back to the apartment, and I’m pretty sure she’s not coming back to help clean.”
I sighed and slung my legs over the side of the bed.
Carleigh watched my sluggish movements and eyed me skeptically. “Are you going to be able to make it to the open house this afternoon? I could cancel my plans and go for you.”
Carleigh and I had lost touch after she moved when we were in middle school, but reconnected via Facebook when she moved back to Austin last year. The timing couldn’t have been better. We were catching up at happy hour when I realized she’d be the perfect one to take over my assistant position at Forget Me Knot Weddings. When Jade and Jasmine agreed and offered her the job, she accepted on the spot.
“No, don’t do that. I’ll be fine. Just need a shower and some food.”
Truthfully, going to an open house for a new wedding venue sounded like torture. But a hangover wasn’t going to prevent me from doing my job. I’d spent the last year working my butt off to prove to Jade and Jasmine they’d done the right thing by promoting me from being their assistant to handling my own weddings. Letting them down wasn’t an option.
* * *
The Rose House, an old Victorian mansion in downtown Austin, was hosting an exclusive open house for event coordinators to showcase its recent renovations. One of the oldest homes in the city, its location in the heart of downtown and historic charm made it a perfect venue for weddings. Until recently, The Rose House had been a private residence and wasn’t available to the public. Which made it all the more puzzling that, as I stood on the curb waiting for Jade, I was positive I’d been here before.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and used the front camera to quickly scan my face. Satisfied my makeup semi-cloaked my exhaustion, I flipped the camera and focused on the house in front of me. After snapping a couple of pictures, I caught sight of Jade speed-walking toward me from across the street.
“I’m so sorry I’m late! I completely lost track of time at the office.”
“Don’t worry about it, Jade. I only just got here a couple minutes ago. Hey,” I said, turning toward her. “Why were you at the office? I thought you only had the Capps wedding on Friday, then you and Emmett were going to have some time off together.”
“We were, but there was some kind of work emergency that he had to deal with. He spent the night at the office last night, and I got restless at home without him, so I figured work would be a good distraction.”
I came to an abrupt stop on the path leading to the steps of the entrance. “Jade…”
“It’s fine. I’m fine. I swear. I mean, it sucks that Emmett and I have basically been ships passing in the night lately, but I knew he was a workaholic when I married him. And, really, I’m being dramatic. We’re together all the time, usually, and he’s been good about keeping his work hours under control. We’ve both just been stressed out, I guess.”
She didn’t have to elaborate. They’d been trying to get pregnant for a while now. The fact that it hadn’t happened was slowly driving her crazy.
I gave her hand a squeeze and offered a sympathetic smile. “Isn’t your anniversary coming up? Maybe you could plan a surprise mini-vacation. Get out of town for a few days.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about planning something. Surprising Emmett is impossible, though. The man knows exactly how to get me to sing like a canary. It’s incredibly frustrating,” she huffed.
Her words said one thing, but the smile on her lips said another.
“Oh, sure. Must be so frustrating to have such a loving, devoted husband who bends over backward for you.”
She laughed and started up the steps leading to the porch, pausing to take a brochure from a table by the door. “Whatever. You know what I mean. Enough about me. How was yesterday? The pictures looked incredible.”
“Fantastic. The garden was the perfect setting for the ceremony, and the reception went off without a hitch. Nana was so beautiful, and seeing Pops brought to tears by watching his bride walk down the aisle was the sweetest thing ever. I’m so happy they finally got their fairytale wedding.”
Jade smiled. “After fifty years of marriage, they certainly deserve it.”
I mumbled an agreement, but my attention quickly shifted to the ‘before’ photos in the brochure I was holding. That déjà vu feeling was back and impossible to ignore. I peeled my eyes from the photos to look up and take in our surroundings as we crossed the threshold into the house.
The front door led straight into an open living area with a view all the way to the French doors leading to the back yard on the opposite side of the room. There was a narrow hallway to the right with three doors off of it, spaced about eight feet apart. A staircase to the left of the hall had a sign on the wall next to it listing the upstairs features—a bridal suite dressing room, bathroom, and access to a balcony overlooking the back yard.
We wandered deeper into the living area, taking in the details and features of the space. Although not an expert on design or architecture, even I could appreciate the time and dedication someone had put in to the place. A wall had been removed to open up the downstairs area, while maintaining the twentieth-century charm that made the house special. The hardwood floors looked original, like they’d been sitting underneath a layer of carpet all along. Crown molding had been added, its dark shade almost matching that of the hardwood, providing a striking contrast against the white walls and highlighting the high, coffered ceiling.
Jade and I both ambled through the house separately and met back up in the veranda off the living room.
“Wow,” she mumbled. “This place is gorgeous. They’ll be completely booked for next year in no time. C’mon, let’s go check out the back yard.”
Even the outdoor space had been given a facelift. Large pavers covered the ground beneath a dozen tables set up in a manner perfect for a wedding reception. Although the lots in this part of Austin tended to be small, the space available was used to its best effect by added shrubs and vines along the back fence, making the area feel cozy instead of cramped.
“I’m going to get a drink. Want one?” Jade asked.
Visions of Millie-mosas sprang to mind, and I silently swore off of ever drinking orange juice again.
“Not even a little. I, uh, got a little carried away last night. Alcohol and I aren’t on good terms right now.”
“Ah, gotcha. Okay, I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll grab a table.”
I settled into a chair and began scrolling through the photos I’d taken inside. Within seconds, a familiar figure dropped into a chair across the table from me.
“Damn. Why do you look like the one of us who was up till dawn?” Jasmine asked, tilting her aviator sunglasses down to scan my face. “You look like hell, but I love your top.”
I was convinced Jas had never in her life even attempted to develop a filter when it came to being blunt.
“Is that why you’re late? Why were you up all night?” I deflected.
A brow lifted as her lips curled into a sly grin. “Why do you think?”
“You were binge watching Parks and Rec again?”
“Jesus, El. You really need to get out more. Celibacy is turning your brain innocent. I don’t even want to know
how long it’s been since you got laid.”
I rolled my eyes in lieu of an answer.
“And yes, that’s why I’m late. Dean’s flight didn’t get in until almost midnight, and we had a lot of catching up to do. And by catching up, I mean the sweaty, naked kind that involves—”
“Ew. Ew. Ew,” Jade groaned as she sat down and realized what kind of conversation she’d walked into. “Do not finish that sentence. This is crossing a line I do not ever need to cross when it comes to my brother. You know the rules about bringing up the details of your sex life around me.”
Jas huffed out a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. You want a clear warning and copious amounts of alcohol in your system.”
“Seeing as how I’m not at all intoxicated and this is technically a work function, maybe we just try to keep it professional for once?” Jade asked, lifting a brow and moving her gaze from Jas to me.
My hands shot up. “Hey, don’t look at me. According to Jas, my brain is innocent now anyway. I’m totally fine with redirecting this into a work conversation.”
“You’re only saying that because you’re still deflecting, El,” Jas insisted. “Answer the question, then we can switch to work mode. What happened last night—or should I say, who happened last night?”
I sighed and resigned myself to spilling the beans. Jasmine was annoyingly persistent, and I knew she’d get me to fess up eventually.
“Sophia and I got into a big argument last night after Nana and Pops left.” I hesitated and darted my eyes across the yard to the food truck parked in the corner serving Korean barbecue appetizers before redirecting my attention back to Jade and Jasmine. “I'm a little fuzzy on the details because I lost a game of stack cup and had to drink my own idiotic concoction of vodka, rum, and tequila mixed with a mimosa. In addition to the tequila shots we did before the game.”
Both of their faces twisted in disgust.
“Damn, no wonder you’re looking a little rough today,” Jas exclaimed.
“Gee, thanks. Okay, now that y’all are up to speed on the disastrous turn my night took, can we switch into work mode? Wasn’t that the deal for answering Jasmine’s question?”
Jas shrugged. “Fair enough. I was thinking we should compile a list of all clients whose tentative dates align with The Rose House’s first few months of availability, and get them out here ASAP because this place will pique more interest than Milo’s head shots on Tinder.”
She shot me a wink and pulled out her phone, already looking at her calendar.
We spent the next twenty minutes comparing calendars and schedules and making a list of clients to bring here for a tour.
“So,” Jas said eventually. “I overheard some ladies talking about the architect who did the renovations. Judging by the way they were talking, he’s hot and he’s single.”
I offered a hum and kept my eyes on my phone, ignoring the implication in her tone.
“Oh, come on, El. Aren’t you a little curious?”
“No. Is it so hard for you to believe, for the first time in a long time, I’m happy being single? I swear, marriage has turned you into a hopeless romantic, Jas.”
She balked. “Jesus, relax. Never. I’m not saying you have to marry the guy. Anyway, apparently he’s some young hotshot from Seattle. He’s Rose’s nephew—as in the Rose who owns this place.”
My head snapped up.
Young hotshot architect.
From Seattle.
Whose aunt was named Rose.
No way.
I would’ve heard if he had moved back. Nana and Pops would’ve mentioned it. Wouldn’t they?
“Did they say what his name is?” I asked casually.
“Brian? Brad? No, not Brad. Some hot guy name that starts with a B, though. Why? Thought you weren’t interested?”
I was too busy scanning the area to answer her question. Too busy searching for a face I hadn’t seen in over five years.
“I, uh, I’ll be right back,” I said, pushing up from my chair and ignoring Jade’s questions about my sudden urgency and weirdness.
My eyes swept across the back yard, seeking the mop of dirty blonde hair he’d always had as a kid. Of course, five years ago it was cut short and stripped him of that boyish charm I’d taken for granted when we were growing up.
Maybe he’s not here.
Maybe Jas misheard.
Maybe it’s not him.
Bryce McKnight had been an integral part of my childhood. My earliest memories of the summer I came to live with Nana and Pops all included Bryce. He was the first person I spoke more than a few words to after my mother dumped me with grandparents I’d never met. He brought me out of my shell and showed me how to be a regular kid.
Bryce was my first friend. My lifeline.
But those days were long gone.
He was a stranger now.
At the exact moment I decided to give up my search and go back to the table, I turned and ran right into a waiter carrying a tray full of food. Honey-glazed chicken and fries smothered in caramelized kimchi rained down on me and stuck to my hair and my shirt as the tray clattered to the ground, garnering the attention of everyone around us.
“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry, miss,” the waiter stammered, instantly helping me back to my feet and pulling a chunk of chicken out of my hair.
“It’s okay. Totally my fault,” I assured him, brushing off the remaining fries from my shirt.
Between the two of us, we cleaned the mess quickly, and I carried my small pile of ruined fries toward the trash can on the veranda. Everyone gawked and gave me a wide berth, as if they were afraid I’d plow into them next.
Good Lord, there are some catty people in this industry.
Further proof of that fact came when I made it to the trash can and heard the murmurs and snickers of a group of women nearby. I fought the urge to call them out. If Jas had been with me, she wouldn’t have hesitated to put them in their place. But my big mouth had already gotten me on Sophia’s shit list in the last twenty-four hours, so I swallowed that urge and combed my fingers through my hair to shake out any rogue bits of cabbage.
Bright side? I was pretty sure, between waking up with the hangover from hell and bathing in kimchi, things couldn’t get worse for me today.
But then the mean girl wannabes stopped trying to be subtle.
“That was painful to watch.”
“I don’t know why she’s even bothering with her hair. It’s a lost cause.”
“I bet she takes out the cocktail table next.”
So much for thinking things couldn’t get worse. I groaned under my breath and turned around to call them out. But someone else beat me to it from the other side of the veranda.
“That was painful to watch, but not nearly as painful as hearing you three make snide, bitchy comments.”
I knew that voice.
Chapter 3
Elliot
That smoother-than-honey voice was both achingly familiar and completely foreign. It belonged to a man who meant business, not the college kid he’d been last time we spoke.
Oh, god. Last time we spoke I made a complete idiot of myself.
I bolted off the veranda and hurried around the corner of the house without letting myself look in his direction.
When I heard his voice again somewhere nearby, accepting praise for his work, I took off again, this time headed for a tree with a swing hanging from its branches.
The irony of the situation was not lost on me. Bryce and I used to play hide-and-seek as kids, and now, here I was playing the adult version.
In my head, running and hiding was justified because I looked like a walking disaster, and I didn’t want him to see me as the kid he used to know who constantly had dirt on her face and twigs in her hair from playing outside all day long.
“By now you should know I’ll always catch you,” he called from behind me.
Before I could turn to him, a pair of designer shoes stepped into my line of sight. I forced my eyes to tra
vel up the length of his body, allowing myself a little longer than necessary to admire the way his gray slacks sat on his narrow hips. Taking in the V shape of his torso in reverse made it even more prominent, and I had to remind myself to breathe by the time my eyes landed on his face.
His voice might’ve taken on an unfamiliar authoritarian tone, but those eyes were the same blue-green hue I’d recognize anywhere, though now there were faint lines at the corners—the kind that came with the stress of a busy life. His dark dirty blonde locks were gelled and styled into place; a total contradiction to the wild mop that used to fall across his forehead when we were kids. His jawline was razor-sharp, only softening slightly when his lips parted into a broad smile as he gave my appearance the same perusal I had given his.
Bryce looked like he’d just walked out of a cover shoot for Forbes or Business Insider.
The look suited him. Really suited him.
I blinked him back into focus before my staring turned creepy.
“Hey," he said, "those women back there were—”
“Catty bitches who also happened to be right about my hair being a lost cause?” I finished for him, pulling at a clump of my hair that had morphed from blonde to sriracha-red.
We both laughed, and I breathed a sigh of relief that we'd managed to seamlessly break the ice.
“So, this was all you?” I asked, gesturing at the house and yard.
He nodded and shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Yep. Aunt Rose asked, and I couldn’t say no.”
That déjà vu feeling made total sense now; I’d come over here with Bryce a couple of times when we were young.
“Of course. Well, it’s incredible. You’re really talented.”
“Thanks. I’m really proud of how it turned out. Can you believe Rose wanted me to get rid of the swing? I told her it’d be a good feature to keep kids occupied during receptions.”
“Until the next little Bryce McKnight comes along and tries to be the king of the swing again. Better make clients sign a waiver saying The Rose House isn’t liable for injury resulting from this thing.”