by Lila Kane
“It’s Fitz,” he said with a wink.
Her blood boiled. She waited until her mom left the room before jerking her thumb to the front door. “Can I speak with you, please? Outside?”
His eyebrows shot up. “On or off the record?”
“Off the record. Outside.”
He left his messenger bag on the seat and followed her out the front door. They stopped in the shade of the overhang, and she folded her arms.
“Where were you last night?”
His mouth popped open. Then he grinned slowly. “Why? Am I in trouble?”
“Were you at Pearl’s? At the bar? Sharing your idiotic ideas on love and forever?”
Fitz’s smile faded, and he crossed his arms, mirroring her stance. “I’d say ‘idiotic’ is a matter of opinion. And it’s my business who I share my ideas with. The guy seemed to agree wholeheartedly, though, in case you were wondering.” His eyes narrowed and the smile appeared again. “Wait a second. That wasn’t your boyfriend, was it?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said, keeping tight control over her temper. Even her family couldn’t get her this riled. “It was my brother.”
“Your brother? Oh, the photographer. Isn’t that ironic?”
“That he’s a photographer?”
He reached out, and to her surprise, touched her shoulder, nudging her closer to the building. “People are trying to pass.”
She glanced over her shoulder and murmured, “Sorry,” when she saw a couple waiting patiently for her to move.
Fitz gave her a laughing smile, and even though she could still feel the warmth of his fingers on her bare skin, the anger wouldn’t subside.
“It’s ironic,” he said, “that he’s in the throes of angst over a woman, and yet your family is all about happliy ever afters.”
“He’s not—the throes of angst? Are you—are you serious?” she sputtered. “This is real life. People get their hearts broken sometimes, but that doesn’t mean all is lost. Might as well give up and resign ourselves to a life without love. Man, you must be depressed all the time if that’s how you really feel.”
He grinned. “Not depressed at all. But thanks for your concern. You look really cute when you’re flushed. Anger suits you.”
Shit. He was flirting with her. Her cheeks burned hotter, and she frowned. “I know we have to work together. At least for an interview. A short one. But will you please keep your opinions to yourself? Especially around Eli?”
He’d gotten hurt enough by the situation with Olympia, and he felt bad about it. He didn’t need it being shoved in his face again.
Fitz considered this. “What do I get in return?”
“You’re getting your interviews. With the best wedding planning company in the state, if you want to know the truth.”
His lips twitched. “True. But.”
“I could call your editor,” she threatened, surprised to hear the words come out of her mouth. She’d never truly jeopardize his career, but he did have a way of making her want to fight with him.
“And what would you say? ‘Fitz doesn’t like weddings’? ‘Fitz doesn’t believe in forevers’?”
She didn’t answer. She had no idea what she’d say.
Fitz grinned. “And you know what my editor would say to that? ‘I know.’ She’d say, ‘I know Fitz doesn’t like weddings, even though he’s been to half a dozen in the last two years alone. But hey, we’re paying him to write an article, not to love the topic.’”
“Sounds like a poor way to run a business to me,” she said. “Employing people who hate the job.”
His eyes flashed, and for a brief moment she felt triumphant. Good. Now he knew what it was like to be on edge. To have someone he hardly knew light a fire of frustration inside.
“I love my job,” Fitz said. “But everyone has to do things for their job they’re not so fond of. Even you, Miss Everything-Is-Magical, should know that.”
She gritted her teeth together, remembering her mom and Jillian were waiting inside for them. “I’m asking nicely. Please leave Eli alone about this. You don’t know the situation, but he doesn’t need any comments about his love life.”
“In my defense, he started talking to me, not the other way around. But, yes, I’ll keep my thoughts to myself when I’m around your brother.” He held out a hand. “It’s a deal.”
Warily, she put her hand in his, already sure he’d find some way around the agreement. But she nodded. “Deal.”
He squeezed her hand when she tried to pull it back. “You really are hot when you’re angry.”
She yanked her hand from his grasp and turned for the door. “They’re waiting for us.”
“Let me.” He tried to reach around her to grab the handle, but she didn’t move.
“I’ve got it,” she said.
Then she yanked the handle, hard enough to have the door flying open and hitting Fitz with a thud. Her mouth dropped open, and when she glanced over to see him covering his nose, she gasped.
Then she saw the blood.
“I think,” he said calmly, “you might have broken my nose.”
Chapter Three
Fitz watched as her eyes widened, amused despite the throbbing in his nose.
“Oh my God, you’re bleeding,” she said, the anger gone. She reached for him, seemed to change her mind, and slowly pulled the door open. “I’m so sorry—come inside and we’ll find something. Oh, God—”
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he assured her. “I was joking about the broken nose.”
But she didn’t seem to hear him. And once they returned to the lobby and Mrs. Keller and Jillian saw him, there was a rush of hands and gasps and a whole lot of chaos he could have done without.
“What happened?” Jillian asked.
“She hit me with the door.”
Summer’s mouth dropped open, and guilt ran across her face. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to—”
“Just joking.”
Her eyes flashed at him, and already he felt better. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just clean up in the bathroom.”
Mrs. Keller looked lost, but Jillian gestured to the hallway. “Of course. Second door on your left. I’ll get you some ice.”
When he entered the hallway, he overheard Jillian’s chiding voice and Summer’s guilty one. Damn, the girl sure knew how to speak her mind. Too bad that only made him more curious about her.
And standing up for her brother? He didn’t have siblings, but he could see the love there. Tell all of them cared about each other. It was nice. Something he didn’t have with his parents. Sure, they loved him. But their idea of showing him love was giving him space so they didn’t all nag each other to death.
Inside the bathroom, he found tissues to mop up the rest of the blood, and then gently washed his face. It was mostly dry by the time he heard a knock on the door.
He opened it to reveal Summer holding an ice pack. She bit her lip while she eyed his face.
“How bad is it?” she asked.
“Dire.”
She stepped closer, eyes narrowing. His nose must have been functioning just fine because her scent swirled around him. Something floral, almost sweet but not quite. Mysterious.
“Are you serious?” she asked. “Because now I feel like you’re messing with me.”
He exhaled, trying to clear his head. Then he reached for the ice pack, fingers closing over hers. “I think I’ll survive.”
She blinked, stepped back. Then the moment vanished and her eyebrow arched. “Well, you might want to tell Jillian that because I’m pretty sure she’s preparing to fire me.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Don’t sound so happy about that.”
He grinned. “Good thing you’re family. She’ll have to go easy on you, right?”
“You sure you’re okay?”
He leaned against the door. “I’m sure. Although…maybe your sister will take it easier on you if you help me with something.”
He chuckled. “I meant something with the article.”
“I’ll do the interview. I’ll even stop myself from opening any doors near you just because I’m nice like that.”
“Ah. Well. I was thinking more like…a guide.”
“What?”
He enjoyed the way she bit her lip again, confusion in her eyes. No, not confusion. Wariness. This was working out perfectly. “I need someone to show me around. You know, each of the places, get a little more background.”
“Anna’s at the bakery, and I’m sure she’d be happy to give you the full tour. Same with Poppy. And Eli—”
He grinned when she broke off. “Yeah, I’m supposed to stay away from him, remember?”
“You know what I meant. I—”
She sighed when Jillian joined them in the hallway.
“Everything okay?” Jillian asked. “I’m so sorry about this, Mr. Tennyson—”
“Fitz.”
“Fitz.” Jillian settled her glasses on top of her head. “I’m sorry. Is there anything else I can get you?”
“I’m fine. Truly. Though I’d love to take a look at the shops and maybe some of your venues.”
“Absolutely.”
Fitz smiled. “Summer was telling me about the barn and mentioned she might have time to take me by there this afternoon since I know you have other meetings scheduled.”
He didn’t miss the quiet flicker of irritation in her eyes, or the way the fingers of one hand curled into a fist.
“Oh.” Jillian glanced at her sister, thrown for a minute. “Uh, sure. I mean, I have the morning free and I know the photographer will be here soon. But that would be great for this afternoon.”
Summer’s mouth opened. He could tell she was searching for an excuse. “I have a fitting in an hour. Not sure how long it’ll take.”
“No problem,” Fitz said. “I’ll do the bakery photos and interview first and then head on over to the flower shop. Should be plenty of time, right? Then I’ll swing by and get you.”
Jillian nodded before Summer could say anything. “Carole is there all day, right? Then you two can do your interview if you have time so we stay on schedule.”
“Perfect.” Fitz smiled at Summer. “Looking forward to it.”
Summer was barely tolerating him right now, shooting daggers with her eyes in his direction behind Jillian’s back. But he wasn’t going to back down. If he had to be in Park Creek writing an article he wanted nothing to do with, he might as well have some fun at the same time.
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The fitting went way too smoothly. Summer had hoped she’d be able to stretch it out, use the excuse that she was far too busy to work to babysit someone so cocky. Frustrating.
Attractive.
But that was beside the point.
The best they could hope for was to withstand each other’s company and politely—no, professionally—go their separate ways. But the worst…well, that spelled disaster.
She’d injured the man. If that didn’t show how incompatible they were, what would?
Summer jabbed a pin through the hem of the dress and then yelped. It stuck her right in the finger.
She backed away hastily so she wouldn’t get blood on the dress. Her finger throbbed, and she put it to her mouth. Footsteps behind her made her turn, and when she spotted Poppy, she tried to release the tension in her shoulders.
Poppy grinned at her. “Stab yourself again?”
Summer shook her hand as though that would take away the sting. She went for her desk drawer in search of a Band-Aid. “No big deal.”
“I heard you broke the reporter’s nose.”
Summer whipped around. “Did he tell you that? It was an accident. He was standing right in the way. And—”
“Whoa.” Poppy backed up as far as the small room would allow. “I’m steering clear of the danger zone.”
Summer sighed, fished a bandage out of the drawer, and ripped open the package. “It was an accident.”
“Jillian’s the one who told me. And you know Jillian. She can be dramatic when it comes to the job.”
“Maybe he deserved it,” Summer mumbled.
“Wait. Repeat that. A little louder.”
“I said maybe he deserved it.” Summer gave her a rueful smile. “He doesn’t even believe in marriage, you know. He practically told Eli he might as well give up on relationships because—”
“Hold on.” Poppy grabbed the bandage from her. “Finger.”
Summer held out her finger. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, but she didn’t want to risk getting anything on the dress.
Poppy bandaged it and then nodded. “There. Now, take a breath.”
Summer obliged, turning back to the dress to pick the pin off the floor. “Aren’t you supposed to be over there getting interviewed by Fitz?”
“Fitz? You’re already on a first name basis?”
“He said to call him Fitz.” Summer rolled her eyes. It suited him. Sounded snobby, pretentious. Probably short for Fitzgerald.
“He stopped by, all charming with his smile and quick wit, and then the photographer—who’s pretty decent himself—wanted to break for lunch. So they’ll be back later.”
Summer turned. “Good. So you guys probably have a few hours to go.”
“Why?”
“No reason.”
Poppy’s lips curved. “You’re not going to keep me in the dark.”
“Is that why you came over here? To gossip about the writer? Or the photographer?”
“No, but Anna only has eyes for Beckett now, and Jillian probably wouldn’t notice a hot guy if she ran him over with her car. You, on the other hand, have a wonderful set of eyes so I thought I’d come see if you got a look at them. The guys I mean. Which you obviously have.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Aha. Okay, well, I’ll work it out of you. So…” Poppy sat at the desk while Summer continued on the hem of the dress. “Almost all of Anna’s stuff is out.”
“Must feel strange having the whole place to yourself.”
“I was hoping it wouldn’t be for long.”
Summer glanced up with a laugh. “You didn’t convince Eli to move in with you, did you? You know he leaves his camera equipment everywhere. An accident waiting to happen.”
“No, I was hoping to convince you to take the spare room.”
Summer poked herself with the pin again and winced. “Dammit.”
“Summer. Maybe you should step away from sharp objects. Take a lunch break.”
She stood with a sigh. “I’m not hungry.”
“Are you upset?”
“No. Yes. I mean—” She rubbed her hand over her eyes. After dealing with Fitz this morning and knowing she had to deal with him later, she didn’t need additional stress on her plate. “You know I can’t.”
“Move in? Why? Because of Mom?”
“She’ll be in that big house all on her own. I know she still misses Dad. I couldn’t do that to her.”
Summer had only been a teenager when her dad had died, but the rest of her siblings had already been off to college or getting jobs. She felt obligated to stay with her mom. To help take care of her. That’s why jumping into the family business had been so easy. It made sense all around.
Poppy shifted in the seat, lowering her chin. “She’s sort of…the one who brought it up.”
“What?”
“Not—I mean, not that you should move out, just that I have extra space. And she wants you to be happy.”
“She thinks I’m not happy there?”
Poppy shook her head. “That’s not what she said, and not what I meant. Sorry, that didn’t come out right. I just think she wants you to live your life. To…branch out. And she’s ready. She’s got the job and her group with the church. She doesn’t need a roommate.”
Summer let the words settle. It was one thing for her to leave because she wanted her own li
fe, but another for her mom to want her gone. What if something happened? What if her mom got hurt or felt lonely in that big house all by herself?
“I’m sorry,” Poppy said, standing. “Don’t look at me like that. It was just an idea. I’d love another roommate and…Just think about it.”
“Sure. I will,” she murmured. “I need to finish this.”
Poppy leaned in, giving her an apologetic hug. “We should go out tonight. Get some dinner.”
“We’ll see.”
She waited until Poppy turned to leave before sitting at the desk. Her finger throbbed. So far today she’d almost broken a nose and poked herself twice with pins. At least she hadn’t stabbed the client. Maybe Poppy—and her mom—were right. She needed a life. She needed to get out there.
It hadn’t been too long ago when she’d had big dreams for the future. Designer dreams. Once her mom had taught her how to sew when she’d been only ten years old, there wasn’t anything she didn’t try to make.
But wedding dresses were her favorites. Big ones, simple ones, lacey ones. All types. But she considered herself lucky that she got to work in an industry she loved. And sure, she wasn’t designing many dresses—none of which were out in the store—but she had inspiration every day. She enjoyed her job.
Sometimes, though, just sometimes, she wanted more.
She heard the chime at the front of the store, then Carole’s cheerful greeting. The voice murmured a hello and said her name.
Shit. Fitz. She checked her watch. Here already? Didn’t he have to finish up with Poppy? Or maybe he wasn’t taking any of this seriously. Maybe he didn’t care at all how the article turned out.
When she heard his footsteps, she turned in her seat, bracing herself.
She saw his grin first, then the boxes in his hands. “It’s still lunch time.”
“Nice to see you, too,” he said.
“I mean, I still have work to do. I said—no, you said—I’d show you around this afternoon. It’s barely after twelve.”
He held up the boxes. “Right. And it looks like you’re still here. Working. So I thought I’d bring you lunch.”
“But…” Words dried in her mouth. There was no way he did this for all the people he interviewed. “Did you bring Poppy lunch? Is that who the other box is for?”