by Jody Holford
“You’re such a doll. How’s it going? The wedding extravaganza starts today, right?” Elizabeth grabbed some milk from the apartment size fridge.
“Already started. They were unloading canopies, tables and chairs when I left.”
“Katherine is a saint. I know she’s used to tourists, but to have that many in your house for that many days would make me crazy. Especially…” Elizabeth’s voice trailed off and Molly looked her way, taking a sip of her coffee before it was cool enough to do so.
“Especially?”
A pinkish hue colored the attractive woman’s cheeks. In her late fifties, Elizabeth had both a reserved elegance and youthful grace that drew people in. Much like Molly’s landlord.
“No. Forget I said anything. She’s coming in today to provide some photographs that we’re running in tomorrow’s edition,” Elizabeth said.
Curiosity tickled at the base of her skull, but Molly simply nodded and let it go.
“Yes. I’ve saved space in the layout. Is everyone else here? I’d like to do a quick meeting about the extra edition this week.”
On top of commandeering the bed-and-breakfast, the bridal party—or more specifically, the mother of the bride—had made the rounds and asked particular local businesses to take part in celebrating her daughter; mostly the newspaper, the hotel, and the marina.
“I’ll let everyone know,” Elizabeth said, walking out of the kitchen.
The floorplan of the newspaper headquarters reminded Molly of one of those miniature architectural models; a bunch of squares attached to a central rectangle. The main rectangle housed the design counter, several desks with partitions, and an open area where Molly had a whiteboard installed for brainstorming sessions.
Off of this common area was Alan Benedict’s office. Despite his family owning the newspaper for a couple of generations, her boss was approachable and down-to-earth. Molly had her own office, another little square, across the room from Alan’s. There was a bathroom and utility room off of the kitchen. Downstairs housed the real hub of the entire building: the printing press.
Molly plated the muffins, intent on gathering her staff. She was pleased to see they were all waiting near the whiteboard, a couple of them on stools and the others standing chatting. She put the muffins on the waist height, wide countertop where they all worked on the layouts together.
“Good morning,” Molly said.
She was greeted with a chorus of cheerful replies that she suspected were more for the muffins than her. She laughed when Jill Alderich, their newest staff writer—and Sam’s cousin—beat Clay to one that had more chocolate chips. Molly hadn’t been a fan of the twentysomething social media coordinator slash photographer when she’d met him. After finding Clay’s father dead in his apartment, Molly’s guilt had pushed her to dig into the death of their former features writer. Through that ordeal, she’d come to see Clay in a new light. Or at least, a less annoying one.
“Cheater,” Clay said, winking at Jill.
Jill rolled her eyes. “All’s fair in love and muffins.”
“How are you today, Molly?” Alan asked, breaking a muffin apart.
“I’m good thanks. Excited about this week. I think we have a lot of avenues to take with the wedding and the exposure it’ll give the surrounding businesses.”
Alan nodded. “I agree—”
His sentence was cut short when the front door of the Britton Bay Bulletin pushed open. Two women Molly didn’t recognize walked in talking so quickly and loudly that everyone else turned to stare.
Just before the first woman, whose bleached blonde ponytail bounced with every step, spoke, Alan groaned.
“Oh, Alan! Look at you! You’ve aged so well,” the woman said, hurrying forward and wrapping her arms around him.
Molly arched an eyebrow at Elizabeth then looked back at Alan who patted the woman’s back stiffly.
He put his hands on her arms and pushed her away gently. “How are you Patty?”
Ahhh, Patty, as in Patricia Lovenly, aka mother of the bride.
“I’m wonderful. I mean, I’m stressed and emotional, but I’m absolutely fabulous. I’m so excited to be home.”
“Yes, I’m sure. We’re all excited to have you here, too. The town is buzzing with excitement over your daughter’s wedding.”
The woman who’d accompanied Patty stared down at the watch that took up a good amount of space on her wrist.
“As it should be,” Patty said, swatting Alan’s chest.
Both of Molly’s eyebrows itched to bounce up. Elizabeth covered her mouth, presumably to hide a smirk.
“This might breathe a little life back into this sleepy little town, even temporarily.”
As if bored of the show, the second woman looked up and cleared her throat. “I’d like to get to the hotel and change before meeting with my staff,” she said.
Her angular face reminded Molly of a triangle. With blonde pixie cut hair, she was attractive, probably a bit younger than Molly’s twenty-eight, but the harsh lines of her face and the way she scowled shadowed any positive features.
Patty turned and clapped her hands together. “Right. Of course. I’m so sorry. Alan, this is Skyler Friessen. She’s the celebrity chef who will be catering my Chantel’s wedding. I was just taking her to her hotel and then back to the bed-and-breakfast. Just picked her up from the airport and thought I’d do everything in one trip. I have the photos for the newspaper spread.”
Patty dug through her oversized bag and pulled out an envelope. Skyler shoved her hands in the pockets of her black chinos and glanced around the office. Molly thought about what Bella had told her this morning. “Welcome to Britton Bay. I’ve heard wonderful things about your cooking,” Molly said. She held out her hand. “I’m Molly Owens, editor here at the Britton Bay Bulletin.”
The look on the woman’s face could only be described as haughty. Straightening her shoulders, she elongated her neck as though that would better allow her to look down on Molly.
“Cooking? I prefer to call it creating. I’m an artist. My medium is food. Though, this is actually my last event of this type. I’m opening my own restaurant.”
Patty beamed. “What a way to go out. The wedding of the century.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened at the exaggeration; they were hardly the royal family. Molly smiled then pressed her lips inward, unsure of what to say. Thinking about the possibilities for the newspaper and remembering something else, Molly held up a hand.
“You won a contest, didn’t you?” That was what Bella had said.
The chef’s smile slipped. “My work was recognized for its Michelin star worthy taste, yes.”
“It was a local contest?” Molly figured they could do a small feature on the chef since they were covering the wedding anyway. Everyone would be curious since only a handful of people from the town had been invited.
“My hometown, yes. The contest is irrelevant,” Skyler said, looking at the square screen on her smart watch. She swiped the screen and tapped on it.
Jill and Clay drifted to their desks, no doubt eager to bury their heads in anything but the tension buzzing in the small circle.
Molly’s skin prickled. “Wasn’t the contest the launching point for your award-winning status?”
Skyler’s neck snapped up and her gaze all but scorched Molly. “Some things are bound to happen regardless. When someone is destined to shine, they will. With or without irrelevant little contests.”
Patty’s smile slipped and she looked back and forth between Molly and Skyler. “Oh, well, yes, that was just one accomplishment in a long list of them. Anyway, I’ll leave these pictures with you, Alan. I need to get Skyler settled in at the hotel.”
“You’re not staying at the bed-and-breakfast?” Alan asked, accepting the photos.
Skyler glanced at Alan through lowered lashe
s, still typing on her watch. “No. The wedding party is taking all of the rooms. That definitely would have been more convenient.” She paused and gave Patty a look that Molly was grateful she wasn’t on the receiving end of, then continued, “I’m meeting my staff there this afternoon, but we’re all staying in the local hotel. Which I’m hoping has modern day amenities.”
Patty’s face paled. Elizabeth stepped closer. “I think you’ll find the hotel has everything you need. Though we’re a small town, we came into the twenty-first century along with everyone else,” Elizabeth said, her tone suspiciously sweet. Then she pointed at Skyler’s watch. “You could probably even look that up on your little watch there.”
Alan put a hand on Patty’s shoulder and stepped forward. “Well, it was lovely of you to drop by. We should all get back to work. Thanks for bringing these photos in. Skyler, it was a pleasure to meet you.”
He all but shoved them out the door. Molly stared through the wide picture window that looked out on Main Street. Patty said something to Skyler, but the chef just continued walking to the passenger side of an SUV. She opened the door and slid in.
“Those people are horrible,” Elizabeth said.
Molly shook her head. “Good for you for putting her in her place. I doubt your words will keep her there though. Wow.”
Jill whistled and leaned back in her chair. “I think we should do a pool. The wedding extravaganza lasts five days. I’m betting there’s a fight before Friday.”
Clay laughed and pulled out his wallet. “I say someone has one tomorrow.”
It was only Wednesday, but so far, Molly had seen enough to think it might not even take that long. She kept quiet.
“Knock it off. No betting. Molly, sorry about that. Patty always was a little…high maintenance.” Alan grinned as he spoke, but looked a tad exasperated.
“No reason to apologize. The chef has quite the chip on her shoulder.”
“Fame does that to some people,” Elizabeth said, picking up a muffin and taking it to her desk.
“She’s hardly famous. She won a culinary cook-off on a cable channel. Her recipe was printed in a food magazine and she won a chunk of prize money. Award or no award, like most restaurants, hers will probably close within a year of opening,” Jill said.
Molly sipped her coffee, her brain swirling. It wasn’t even noon yet and she felt like there were enough stories simmering in Britton Bay to fuel a month of papers.
“You know a lot about her,” she said.
Jill shrugged and opened her laptop. “I like research. Plus, I was there when Bella got a call from Katherine saying her baked goods wouldn’t be needed for a week. Bella was really…insulted. She got it and I don’t think she blamed my aunt, but I think it hurt her feelings.”
“I spoke to Bella this morning, too. She seemed okay with it.” But maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she was irritated to be shut out of an event that could have boosted her business. She wasn’t the only food service in town that had been nixed. The owners of the popular hot spot, Come ‘n Get It Eatery, had offered to host the rehearsal dinner and had been shot down as well.
Only the best for Chantel Lovenly.
“I don’t know. Maybe she’s a great chef, but I can’t see any baked goods topping Bella’s. Plus, Bella is hot. That chick was snotty looking,” Clay said, typing something on his keyboard.
Alan groaned and Molly rolled her eyes.
“Very thorough assessment, Clay. I’d say Jill could safely bet on you not doing any writing for the paper anytime soon.”
The others, including Clay, laughed. Molly went to her office, her thoughts on the wedding and the chaos that would descend in close quarters over the next several days. She’d have a front row seat to what promised to be an entertaining event.
Pulling her own laptop out of her bag, she booted it up. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get to know some of the players. In the age of Facebook and other social media, a few clicks on the keyboard would give her some insight into the people staying mere steps away from her cottage. Instead of looking up Patty or Chantel however, Molly typed in Skyler’s name. If she could get some background information on the chef and her assent to so-called fame, maybe Molly could convince her to do an interview. If she had as much cachet as her body language and attitude suggested, the paper’s reach could extend much further than Britton Bay.
Molly smiled at the list of results that showed up on her screen. She wouldn’t be the only person to write about Skyler Friessen that was for sure. So, find a completely fresh angle. Molly had a feeling it was the only way the woman would even agree to be questioned. While her food was said to be “bold, fresh, and delightful”, Molly had just seen that the same could not be said about Skyler. She’d have to appeal to her vanity. Which meant finding an in.
Chapter Three
By the time Molly got home that evening, her stomach was growling. Other than the scone and a muffin, she hadn’t stopped to eat. Tigger was pulling on his leash, eager to explore every scent available. He stopped at one of the two rose bushes that flanked the cobblestone walk at the front of the bed-and-breakfast. There was a little path off of this one that led to her cabin.
The yard had been transformed into a tented ballroom during the day. There was an elevated dance floor with a couple of steps leading up to it. People Molly didn’t recognize were still working on centerpieces, decorations, and organizing tables. How much money do these people have? Molly had never come close to getting married, but if the day did come, she’d like a smaller event. Much smaller. Though, she couldn’t fault the choice of location.
“See something you like?” Sam asked from behind her.
Tigger went haywire, pulling on his leash. Molly let it go so the dog didn’t strangle himself.
“I do now,” Molly replied, still not used to the little skip her heart gave when she saw him. Every time.
Sam winked at her before he crouched down to greet Tigger. “That makes two of us. Hey, buddy. Okay, three of us. How you doing, pal? Okay, calm down. Yes, I’ve missed you, too.”
Tigger rolled, belly up and gazed adoringly at Molly’s boyfriend. Can’t really blame him.
“Okay. That’s enough. You got yours,” Sam said, standing. He picked up the leash and closed the slight distance between him and Molly.
“My turn?” Molly asked, working hard not to copy the dog’s adoring look.
Sam smirked, tugging gently on a strand of her hair. “Do you want me to rub your belly or will you settle for a kiss?”
She laughed and leaned into him, showing him her preference as she went up on tip toes to touch her mouth to his. The zap of electricity that whipped through her when they kissed hadn’t lessened over the last couple of months. If anything, the buzz seemed to last longer and feel more charged.
She wasn’t a cynic, but since she moved to Britton Bay after her live-in boyfriend brought one of his exes back to their place, it was harder to trust. Sam was working his way under her skin and into her heart with his effortless charm and kindness. His six foot two frame, dark hair, and gorgeous brown eyes didn’t hurt either.
“I missed you,” he said, pulling her into a hug. Tigger flopped down between their legs, unconcerned with any sort of personal space. The dog was like Velcro and as though he was afraid of being left behind, tended to stay as close as he could.
“Me, too,” Molly admitted, resting her cheek against Sam’s chest.
Around them, people chatted easily as the breeze blew the trees, sharing the scent of roses and other flowers Molly couldn’t name.
Sam leaned back, which had Tigger sitting up, eager to take part in whatever was next. From the corner of her eye, Molly saw a group of six women, one being Chantel, the bride, laughing as they walked up the front steps that led to a wide porch. She wondered if the five women were all part of the bridal party.
“You wan
t the good news or bad news?” Sam asked.
Molly’s chest tightened. No one liked bad news. “Good?”
“I brought fried chicken, potato salad, and homemade biscuits from Come ‘n Get It Eatery. Calli says you need to call her for a girls’ night by the way.”
Molly smiled. Calliope owned the very popular diner on Main Street and, like much of the town, had charmed Molly through and through. “That sounds delicious and I absolutely will. Bad news?”
Nothing bad. Nothing bad.
“My mom got ousted from her kitchen this evening so the wedding party could have a private tasting with the chef they brought. So I invited her to join us. Thought we could eat on her back deck?”
Molly released the breath that had caught in her lungs. “So, the bad news is we have to eat some of my favorite food with your mother, whom I adore. You can always give me bad news.”
Sam chuckled and took her hand as they walked toward her cottage. “The bad news is we can’t be alone.”
She nudged him with her hip, digging her keys out of her bag. “It’ll give your mom a break. I know this is what she does, but having this many people all at once and then being put out of your own space can’t be easy.”
Opening her front door, they stepped in. Molly took Tigger’s leash off while Sam shut the door.
“She’s more excited than anything. I do plan on hanging out more for the next several days, just in case she needs an extra set of hands. It looks like they have most things covered, but I know she won’t be happy unless she’s busy and I don’t want her overdoing it.”
Molly snorted quietly and slipped off her shoes in the small entryway, setting her bag down on the rectangular table she kept there. Katherine had as much energy and enthusiasm as Tigger. “Dare you to say that to your mom.”
Sam laughed behind her. “No thanks.”
The pretty daisies Molly had put in the ceramic vase she’d bought from a local potter were starting to wilt. She picked them up off the entry table, vase and all, looking back over her shoulder. “Was that meant to be more bad news?”