by Lila Kane
“I thought so.”
“You should really make some of these. You know people would go crazy for them.”
Summer stood, closing the sketchbook again. “One day, maybe.”
But she didn’t add that she’d already put together a small collection of dresses that hid out in the back storage closet of the store. One day when she had the courage, maybe she’d put them in the front window. Or on a back rack, at least. Or show them to her mom.
Maybe.
Carole, her part-timer, stood at the front desk organizing jewelry.
“Afternoon meeting,” Summer told her. “You good here?”
“No problem.”
Jillian lead them out into the sunshine, warm air blowing a soft breeze through Main Street. Pretty soon, school would start back up and the streets would be a little less busy. Business, however, wouldn’t slow down for months.
They crossed at the walk just in front of the bakery. On breezy mornings you could almost smell the goodies that Anna made inside those doors. Sometimes Summer would walk by and breathe in the sugar and spices and occasionally pick up a muffin or scone if Anna made some that morning.
“Just fair warning,” Jillian said as the reached the main building, “Mom has an idea.”
“Mom always has an idea.”
Jillian stopped outside the door. “Well, this one is going to be an adjustment. And only if everyone is on board.”
“What do you mean?”
“We still have clients asking about on-site makeup and hair for our events.”
“I know. They ask me all the time, too. And I still think it’s a good idea, but I thought Pam was too busy. It’s just her and Denise at the salon over there—they can’t spare anyone to make house calls.”
Jillian removed her glasses again. “They hired someone new. With experience. In fact, they asked Mom if she still wanted someone who was willing to do events. Specifically events.”
Summer nodded, reaching for the handle. “Sounds perfect.”
“It’s Olympia.”
She froze. “Olympia? You mean Eli’s Olympia?”
Jillian grimaced. “You might not want to say that in front of him.”
“I won’t. I mean—I don’t know how this is going to go over.”
Eli had been in love with Olympia back in high school. But when he’d broken her heart and left for college, she’d been devastated. When she was finally ready to move on, Eli came back into her life and asked for another chance.
Summer had been wrong about that relationship. The only time she could remember that her sixth sense hadn’t worked out. She thought Olympia and Eli were meant for each other, but she’d been wrong.
“Listen,” Jillian said, “just feel Eli out. We’ll talk about it today, but we won’t make the decision right away. We need someone for hair and makeup. Olympia needs a job.”
Olympia had a kid now. Summer knew this much. And her husband had passed away early last year. She needed a break and that’s probably exactly what their mom was thinking, too.
Jillian pulled open the door. “So if you talk with him, just kind of…see where he stands.”
Where he stood was probably emotionally, just like Summer. It was a complicated situation. But with Jillian, almost everything was black and white. And Summer tried to see it from that end as well. Business was business.
But family was more important.
They entered to find Gail Keller talking with Poppy and Eli in the sitting room, no trace of the tension she worried might come. The door opened behind them and Anna and Beckett appeared, holding hands.
Now that was one match Summer hadn’t gotten wrong. She knew since she was a teenager that Beckett and Anna were meant to be together. Sure, Tom had screwed things up some, but it had all turned out all right in the end.
In fact, she expected a proposal any day now.
“We brought muffins,” Anna announced, gesturing to the basket Beckett held. “Early payment for helping me move.”
Eli reached for the basket, snickering at Beckett. “You sure you have room in your place for all that girly stuff?”
Gail pointed at him. “Last time I checked, you carried way more with you every day than Anna.”
“Camera equipment doesn’t count.”
“Are we meeting in here?” Jillian asked, already prepared with her tablet. “We have to make it quick this time since we’ve got another meeting in half an hour.”
Everyone sat, most of the group drawing out their phones or notepads to mark dates of upcoming events.
Like usual, Gail let Jillian take the lead, sitting back in her chair with her muffin. Summer didn’t miss her quick smile at Anna and Beckett, or the strain at the corners of her mouth when she glanced at Eli.
“First off,” Jillian said, “we have our biggest wedding yet next weekend. I’m going to need everyone’s help early to set up chairs and tables. Summer, I saw the dress back in your shop. You’re on track, right?”
“I’ll finish the last of the alterations tomorrow and the bride will be in for a fitting the next day.”
“Good.” Jillian made a note on her tablet and continued on, checking with everyone on their status. “Also, don’t forget Kiss the Bride! magazine will be here for the rest of the week. We’ll each be doing interviews as it fits in our schedules and they’ll be at this weekend’s wedding.” Jillian arched her brow. “You didn’t forget, did you Summer? I emailed you. And texted you. And left a note on your desk. And—”
“No, I remember. That lady, right? Said she’d be hanging out, getting some pictures, doing interviews.”
“Yes to everything except for the lady. Her baby came early so they’re sending someone else. A man by the name of…” Jillian checked her tablet. “Fitz Tennyson.”
An image of the man in her shop flashed through her mind. The quirk of his lip, his eyes steady on hers. But no, he wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow. It was someone else completely.
She was surprised at the flicker of disappointment she felt at possibly never seeing him again. She didn’t meet a lot of men in her field. Or the ones she did were either married or on their way to getting hitched.
She chided herself for those kinds of thoughts. She’d meet the right person at the right time. Wasn’t that what she always told her sisters? And Eli? Even her clients. It would happen when the time was right.
Which meant she needed to put the man out of her mind and focus on work.
And Eli, because Jillian was already turning to him. “One last thing.”
She braced herself for the news and hoped Eli wouldn’t be too upset.
Chapter Two
Fitz hadn’t planned on staying at the little inn the magazine was paying for, but he’d gotten distracted by the town and by the people. It was only an hour and a half drive to his place in the city, but why turn his back on a free vacation?
After all, he usually wrote travel articles, and Park Creek was new to him. Maybe after he was finished telling fairy tales for Kiss the Bride!, he could do an actual story on the town. The inn he was staying at had history, the pizza place on Main had a loaded pie to die for, as he’d discovered last night, and the antique store just down the street had a nice collection of baseball cards.
He ate a bagel in the dining room while he caught up on emails, and then grabbed a cup of coffee to go and headed out into the sunshine. Right next door, he spotted a park with a gazebo and shaded benches, and headed in that direction.
Today he had to suck it up and get to work. Brides, grooms, cakes, tulle, “I do,” “You may kiss the bride,” and all that. He’d gone through those steps half a dozen times with his parents. Any day now, he expected a call from either one with new news.
“Hey son, it’s a destination wedding this time. Don’t forget your snorkel.” Or eventually, a call from his mom. “Honey, you work too much. You should settle down. And speaking of settling down, I’m engaged…”
He was pretty sure th
ey had a bet who could get married the most times. His dad was winning, but not for long. Mom was tenacious.
Fitz settled on a bench facing the town. The photographer would be down later this morning to start with the wedding cakes, so he planned on meeting with Anna Keller first to check out the bakery and interview her.
But it wasn’t Anna he really wanted to talk to. In fact, he had half a mind to head over to Keller Designs first just to get another glimpse of Summer. Maybe charm a little smile out of her. Maybe see if she was free for lunch.
To his left, a group of women did yoga on the lawn. And just behind them, arms full of bags and trays of coffee, came the exact woman he wanted to see. She headed toward the bench next to his.
He stood automatically, setting aside his own coffee and reaching for the tray she was about to fumble.
Her eyes flashed to his, and he didn’t have to charm the smile after all. It came on its own.
“Let me help,” he said, taking the tray and setting it on the bench.
She lowered the rest of the bags to the seat and sighed, rolling her shoulders. He tried to keep his eyes from her collarbone, or the soft slope of her neck. Or any of the exposed skin he could see around her printed dress. But damn, it looked soft. Same with her hair. Just a sweep of deep blonde across her shoulders.
“You must really need the caffeine this morning,” he said.
She laughed. “It’s not for me.” She gestured to the yoga ladies. “It’s for them. And decaf so they don’t get all jittery.”
“You brought coffee for all of them?”
“Sure.”
He eyed her outfit. “But you don’t…” He mimed a yoga position, making her laugh again.
“Nope. I just watch.”
She unloaded one of the bags, pulling out a sketchbook and a pencil holder.
He lifted his eyebrows. “Just watch? I don’t think you get quite the same amount of exercise doing it that way.”
Again, those dimples flashed. “Nope, but it’s good practice.”
With that, she sat on the bench, faced the other way, and opened her sketchbook.
Dismissed. Or at least, that’s what it felt like. Of course, he had given her a bit of a hard time yesterday. But it was all in good fun.
He hoped she didn’t act like this when it came time for the interview. Probably best if he told her who he was.
Fitz returned to the seat, picked up his coffee, and narrowed his eyes. He could barely make out the outline of a form on her sketchbook. The shape of a body, one of the yoga ladies. The arms stretched to the side, willow-slim, and toes pointed like a ballerina.
So she was an artist? She used the figures for inspiration? That’s what she meant by good practice.
As he continued to watch, she sketched a gown over the top of the form. Not just a gown; it looked like a wedding dress.
When she shifted and he glanced up, he found her eyes on his.
“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked.
He hid a smile and shook his head. “No, nothing at all. I like your sketch.”
Her eyes fell to the pad of paper. She shut the sketchbook and set it aside, standing once more. Okay, a sore spot, maybe? Either that or she thought he was rude. So he’d been staring. Who brought a whole group of women coffee and…croissants? Is that what he smelled? Something fresh, anyway.
She unloaded the bags in front of her, pulling out more than just croissants. Muffins. Bagels.
“I didn’t mean to stare,” he said, trying to get her to open up to him again.
“No problem.”
“Would you like some help?”
Her lips curved. “No, thanks. I’ve got it.”
“I’m Fitz, by the way.”
She stopped, propping one hand on her hip. “I know who you are, Mr. Tennyson.”
He blinked, mouth open. But she abruptly turned as the ladies finished their yoga, giving a wave and immediately striking up a conversation with the instructor. So much for getting her to open up.
He grabbed his coffee cup again, hauled the strap of his satchel over his shoulder, and headed back to the inn. No problem. He’d talk with Summer later—she’d have no choice. And maybe then he’d see just what it was about her that intrigued him so much.
{}{}{}
She knocked on Eli’s door, loud enough to wake him if he’d still been sleeping. Knowing him, he was, but he didn’t get that luxury anymore. Per Jillian’s warning this morning, they all had to be at headquarters or in their own shops all day long in case the reporter came by. Or the photographer.
After a moment, she knocked again and grinned when she heard a loud thump and his curse. Eli opened the door, hair askew and a scowl on his face.
“Dammit, Summer. It’s not even—is that coffee?”
She held it out for him. “You weren’t up? Jillian is going to kill you.”
“No, I was up. Damn coffee pot broke, though. Please tell me you have food in that bag.”
“Anna’s croissants.”
He snatched the bag. “Thank you.”
She followed Eli to the small table off the kitchen, amused when she nearly tripped over a tripod. “You need a housekeeper.”
“What I need is an espresso machine. No, I take that back. I need my own chef. Omelets for breakfast, with a cappuccino. Maybe a BLT for lunch. Or a spicy tuna roll.”
She joined him at the table, laughing when he pulled out a croissant and ate half of it in one bite. “And dinner?”
“God, anything with meat. Bacon cheeseburger, sirloin with—”
“Bacon?”
He laughed. “Sure, why not? Thanks for bringing this over. I’m pretty sure I drank half the bar at Pearl’s last night.”
“Eli,” Summer said softly. “I’m sorry.”
He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “Yeah, laid it all out there for some guy who looked like he might be doing his own commiserating. Said true love was overrated, there’s no such thing as forever. Why waste my time, right?”
Summer stiffened in her seat. “Did he have short hair? Kind of light brown? Probably some sort of messenger bag or—”
“Shit. How am I supposed to remember? Sounds about right, but hell, I don’t know.”
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Eli, if you don’t want to work with Olympia, just say so. I know Mom will understand.”
He rolled his eyes. “And Jillian? She’ll give me that look. You know the one.”
“When she puts on her glasses and kind of looks down her nose like she’s your eighth-grade teacher and she just caught you cheating?”
He chuckled, finishing the last bite of the croissant. “Yeah, that one.”
“You still care about her, don’t you?”
“Jillian?”
She gave him a gentle smile. “Olympia.”
He shoved the bag aside and stood. “It’s—whatever. It was a long time ago. We’re adults now. We should be able to work together in a professional capacity, right?”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t have feelings for her. That doesn’t mean it’s not hard to be around her.”
“That’s life, right? I’m beginning to think the guy at the bar was making a lot of sense. He said to move on and not look back. Who needs a relationship anyway? Life’s too short to worry about all that bullshit.”
Summer frowned, but didn’t say anything. It had to be Fitz. What the hell was a guy like that doing writing for a wedding magazine? He should be writing his own Love Sucks or Yes, You Should Definitely Get a Divorce column instead.
He’d better be a little more professional than that when it came to his job. Marriage was a magical thing for most people. And more, Keller Wedding Consultants was one of the best. The last thing they needed was a cynical reporter making it look like some big joke.
“Whatever.” Eli sighed. “I’d better get ready or Jillian’s going to send me to the principal’s office.”
“She just might.”
“You ready for this?” he asked, tossing his empty coffee cup in the trash and rooting around in the cupboard for some Advil. “The interview?”
“I’m ready,” Summer said.
In fact, she was more than ready. And Fitz Tennyson was going to get an earful.
{}{}{}
Since Carole was already at the store, Summer decided to go right to the source. She’d find Fitz, warn him to keep away from her brother—except for the interview—and then she’d stay as professional as she could until he was far from town.
Summer hiked down the stairs that lead to the overhead apartments and walked straight to the rear entrance of their main headquarters. She spotted Beckett pulling up to the bakery, but didn’t stop when he slowed and leaned out the window.
“Hey, Summer.”
“I’m on a mission,” she said, casting him a wave.
“But—I had a question.”
She kept going, calling back, “No time!”
She was running on anger right now. No one messed with her family, and if she didn’t speak up, he might go trying to ruin someone else’s day. Like Anna’s, if he found out she and Beckett had just gotten together. The last thing they needed was someone telling them love wasn’t worth it. They’d waited too long to be together, and they were perfect for each other.
Inside the building, she passed the meeting rooms and headed straight for the front. When she heard voices, she paused, her courage faltering. She couldn’t very well chide him in front of her mother or Jillian.
Taking a calming breath, she walked into the lobby and spotted her mother chatting with Fitz. When he saw her, he stood.
“Oh.” Gail smiled. “Fitz Tennyson, this is my daughter Summer. She runs—”
“Keller Designs,” he said smoothly with a nod. “That’s right. I had a chance to stop in there yesterday.”
Gail angled her head. “Is that so? Summer didn’t say.”
She forced a bright smile. “It got busy last night. I didn’t have a chance. Where’s Jillian?”
Gail stood as well. “She was supposed to be putting on some coffee. I’ll go check and see if she needs some help. Summer, why don’t you tell Mr. Tennyson a little about your shop.”