“I really appreciate the offer, but I’m not just the bartender. I manage the bar and am in the process of buying it.” Okay, little white lie.
Surprise widened her eyes. “Really, I had no idea. You should have told me.”
“It’s not a done deal yet, so I hope I can trust your discretion.” He could tell by the slant of her eyes there wasn’t anything about Candy he could trust.
“Absolutely, Beau. You know you can count on me. I’ll come by early before the festivities begin, and we’ll talk then.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’m so happy you feel you can confide in me. I’ll see you at the bar at five?”
Boy, she really wasn’t taking no for an answer. “I would love to, I really would, but I can’t. Not this year.” Not ever again.
She was giving him that look that said, yeah right. No one says no to me.
His sister was walking toward them, a look of concern on her face, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of Candy touching him or that Sally was by his side. Don’t upset the clients. He could hear her now. “I’m engaged,” he blurted and shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
To his horror, Candy laughed so loud, several heads turned. “Engaged? You? Never.”
“Why not? I can fall in love. I fell in love,” he reiterated. “It’s true. I’m getting married.” Someday, in the very distant future. Like almost never.
“The confirmed bachelor is engaged,” she said dryly as if the words wouldn’t even stay on her tongue.
“I am.” He nodded. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to get to work.” He turned and fled before he said anything else stupid. For the life of him, he didn’t know what he was thinking or where that came from. It was because of Rich, he thought. It had to be. He had to do something about the old man.
***
Phoebe dragged her suitcase toward the opening to the next room where she could register and pick up her packet. She couldn’t help watching Candy talking to Beau, who was standing next to that giant dog that plowed into her. The dog must be his. It looked like a Saint Bernard. Not that she’d ever seen a Saint Bernard in person, just from the movies, most notably—the rabid killer Saint Bernard, Cujo. She didn’t have a lot of experience with dogs, other than Riley who Carrie loved with all her heart. Her dog was a sweetie. Phoebe glanced at Cujo again, then quickly looked away when the dog noticed her.
Candy laughed loudly at something Beau said. That poor man was in for a load of trouble with her. Oh, well, not her problem. Phoebe entered the next room and walked over to a row of tables and got in line to register. The room was filling up quickly, and there was only one woman checking everyone in so it was slow going. The two women behind her were complaining. Which kept Phoebe from turning around to introduce herself. Before she got to the front of the line, Mr. Gorgeous himself came running forward.
“Good, you’re finally here,” the woman said and placed a placard in front of him that read L-Z. The line immediately split into two, and she was next.
“Name?” he asked, then looked up at her.
“Phoebe Lawson,” she said through a dry throat.
He smiled, and her heart did that little dance. “Welcome, Phoebe.”
“Thank you.”
“First time?”
She nodded.
He reached into a box sitting on the floor and handed her a tote bag full of goodies and a lanyard with her name on it. “You have table number thirty-eight. Just through those doors and down the stairs.” He pointed to the double doors across from them. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you.” She took the bag and the lanyard and placed it around her neck as excitement filled her. She turned toward the doors. This was it. The first step to her new life. She could do this. She would do this. That was her new mantra.
She pulled the suitcase toward the elevators and pushed the down button. The doors opened onto a large room that for the skiers was part of the dining room. She walked toward the rows of tables circling the room beneath a wall of windows overlooking the ski runs. The view of Snowy Mountain was incredible, but she had to admit she was much happier inside looking out at all the white stuff, than being outside in it.
She found her table, sat in the folding chair behind it, and unloaded her conference tote bag. ‘Welcome to Wedding Planners Convention Making Dreams Come True.’ Excitement filled her as she opened the notebook and flipped through the agenda. She took out her highlighter and marked the panels, color coding them with yellow for those she could not miss, blue for those she could take or leave, and green for those she wasn’t too interested in. Unfortunately, she found several highlighted in yellow that were all being offered at the same time.
“Darn.” She went through them again and again until she had the whole weekend laid out. Next, she opened her suitcase and pulled out her tablecloth and started to decorate her table with the items she brought that would showcase her talents and highlight why someone should pick her to plan their wedding. Not only would they judge her at the end of the conference for how well she presented herself and her talents, but her prize, should she win, would be a quarter-page ad showcase in Bride Magazine that was hard to get and super expensive.
She had to at least place. She had done her research and felt prepared. She set out her place setting, her jewelry stand with the exquisite pieces she collected all around the Bay Area. She unfolded a veil stand to place behind her with beautiful veils, running the gamut from antique to homemade to contemporary. And last but not least, her business cards.
There, she stood back and looked at her portfolio, guest books, his and her wedding ring holders, and cake toppers. She had crammed an amazing amount of stuff onto her table. She shoved the suitcase beneath it and was quite pleased and proud of herself until she walked around the room and looked at everyone else’s tables. They too had beautiful one-of-a-kind items. Anything a bride would want or need. But their tables also had an artistic flair that hers was missing. Looking back across the room, her table looked quite utilitarian.
This would never do.
What should she do?
She took a snapshot of several tables and then hers and sent them all to Carrie. It had to help to have an ad-exec turned wedding photographer as her best friend. She would know what to do. She sent the pictures along with SOS in capital letters.
It looks great. Carrie quickly typed back. All you need is a splash of color. Go outside and collect some greenery.
Greenery? Outside? Are you sure? Phoebe quickly typed. The thought of going out into the winter wonderland was a little daunting.
Yes. Your table will pull the outside beauty from the windows inside, and they’ll complement each other. Trust me, you always want to look at the background when composing your artwork.
All right. I’m heading out into the wild blue yonder. I hope I survive.
LOL!
Phoebe put her phone in her pocket. Okay, all she needed was a little color. Her centerpieces were beautiful. Her photo of Carrie and Ryan at their wedding was beautiful. Carrie was right. She just needed some color. There was too much white. It didn’t help that the view out the window was mostly white. Apparently, those ladies who were here last year knew that and compensated for it. She could fix this. She didn’t panic in the face of adversity; she was a problem solver, and this was an easy fix.
Now that her white blouse was dry and only slightly stained, she pulled the red silk scarf off her neck and placed it on the table. Add some fresh boughs and pinecones and that should do the trick. All she had to do was go out and find some. She was in the middle of a forest; how hard could that be? She checked her schedule. The welcoming seminar was in thirty minutes. No problem, she didn’t want to be outside more than ten, anyway. She grabbed her tote bag and jacket and quickly went back up the stairs and toward the front door. The last thing she wanted was for everyone to watch her poking around in the snow through the big windows out back.
She hurried through the em
pty lobby and out the front door toward where she parked her car. There were a ton of trees next to her car. She just had to go down the embankment a little to reach them. Note to self—go into town early tonight and buy some warm gloves and snow boots. Or even rain boots that she could slip on over her shoes. She cringed as she stepped into a puddle and felt slush seep between her toes.
A thick white blanket covered everything, and she could see only a few pinecones. She walked past her car and down the embankment, heading toward a few sugar pinecones that caught her eye. They were okay but not perfect. She kept going, up the other side of the embankment and through the snow, deeper into the trees.
She saw a broken bough in the next bunch of trees and walked toward it. That was all she needed, that and a few pinecones. She saw a house with a wide porch and smoke rising from the chimney. They must have beautiful views of the mountains. With her eye on the picturesque house, she’d only gone a few feet when suddenly the ground opened up beneath her, and she fell screaming into a deep snowdrift.
She landed with a painful thump and quickly got to her feet as she felt the dampness seep through her pants. She couldn’t see anything around. Oh no! She gasped in a breath to scream again, and snow filled her mouth. Panic tightened her chest, and she flailed her arms trying to get out but only caused more snow to fall, burying herself deeper. Oh my God, she would die out here. No one could see her; no one even knew she had left.
She huddled on the bottom of the drift and wrapped her arms around her legs, trying to keep warm as she let out an ear-piercing scream. Maybe if she yelled loud enough and long enough, someone from the house would hear her. It was the only chance she had. She’d made sure no one was watching when she’d left. How dumb was she? Wait. Her cell. She pulled it out of her back pocket. No service. “Damn.”
“Help!” She screamed again and again until her voice went hoarse. Oh my God. I’ve been buried alive. I’m going to die down here. Snow melted and ran beneath her collar as tears filled her eyes. “Help!” She screamed again as she thought of her fingers and toes turning black. How long did it take to get frostbite? How could she come up to the snow without boots and gloves? Did she not have a brain? Don’t answer that. She had to stay positive.
Don’t panic. She could fix this.
She thought she heard something. She could only see a small fraction of the sky above her. “Hello?” She tried to slow her breathing. She was hyperventilating and growing light-headed because of it. And worse, even if someone was coming, she couldn’t hear anything beyond all her huffing and puffing. She gasped in a deep breath and held it. There she heard it again. Not footsteps, but a kind of shuffling. “Help!”
More snow fell on her head. She looked up and saw that giant dog staring down at her. “Cujo! Go get help, boy. You can do it.”
He just stood there, staring at her, drool falling into the hole. “Come on, boy. You’re a rescue dog, aren’t you? Rescue me. Go get Beau.”
He cocked his head at the sound of Beau’s name. Then he moved, his foot sliding into the hole. Suddenly he was backpedaling, trying to keep from falling. More snow fell on top of her. Oh, good God, no! He was falling in! She would be trapped with Cujo in this tiny hole.
“Help!”
Chapter Five
Beau was exhausted. They’d gotten through registration, and they checked everyone in. His sister no longer needed him, and the welcoming panel was ready to start. He was free for another hour. He headed toward the house to visit his mom. Ever since his dad died, Mom had been a trooper, running things on her own, including the ski chalet. He tried to help whenever she called, but he’d been coming less and less. Unfortunately, now that Paige was getting more involved in her job in Sacramento, she was around less to help.
He cut through the parking lot toward the house, walking between the two buildings, glad to get away from the noise of all the women. Women individually were a beautiful thing—soft, delicate, beautiful. Women in a group were downright terrifying. He was still kicking himself for telling Candy he was engaged. Why not just tell her the truth? He didn’t like bondage games, really didn’t enjoy waking up in her bed tied up and blindfolded last year. She might think role-playing was fun, but it wasn’t his cup of tea. The fact that she wanted a repeat of the one night he’d tried all year to forget was a nightmare come true.
But engaged? Rich put the thought in his mind, or he never would have gone there. He walked through the thicket of trees, breathing in the fresh air. It was a gorgeous day. Smoke was drifting out of the chimney. Good, Mom was home. Sally, their Saint Bernard, was sitting in the snow staring at something.
“Sally, come here, girl.”
The dog looked at him but didn’t budge.
“Sally,” he called again.
Something had her attention. Beau kept going. She’d come in when she was ready. He almost reached the house when he heard a slight whimper. He stopped and listened. Surely Sally wasn’t sitting on another critter. Not that she hadn’t done that before, she had, but he thought they’d cured her of that.
He walked toward the dog. As he got closer, he could see a hole in the snow in front of her. He approached it and looked down inside. The woman who spilled coffee on him was sitting in the bottom. Her red-rimmed eyes widened as she saw him, and she scrambled to her feet.
“Please help me,” she called, but the words came out a hoarse whisper. Her teeth were chattering through blue lips, and snow covered every inch of her. How long had she been down there?
“I will try to pull you out.” He lay on the ground and reached down into the hole. “Take my hand.”
She reached up and grabbed his hand with frozen fingers.
“Don’t you have gloves?”
“They’re wet. I took them off.”
He started to pull. She didn’t budge. She was shivering so hard; she was a little unsteady, and he was afraid he’d have to climb down to help her. “Can you climb at all?”
“No, the snow just keeps falling in on me.”
“All right, let’s try again.” He grabbed her hand and pulled. Sally even grabbed the cuff of her jacket and pulled with her teeth. “Try to get a purchase with your feet and climb up.” Pain burned through his arm, but he felt her coming toward him. “You’re doing it.”
He repositioned himself and pulled again. She flew out of the hole and landed on top of him, flattening him into the snow. Sally started barking like crazy. The woman dipped her head, burying it into his chest.
“It’s okay, girl. We got her,” he told the dog.
“Thank you,” the woman said as she lifted her head from his chest. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “I thought I was going to die out here.”
“You’re welcome. Sally wouldn’t have left you alone.”
She looked up at Sally, then leaned over and gave his dog a huge hug. “I’m sorry I called you Cujo.”
He grinned. “Come on, let’s get you inside and warm.”
“Yes, please.”
He got to his feet and started to lead her toward the house, but she stumbled and almost fell. “I got you.”
“I can’t feel my feet.”
“How long have you been out here?”
“Forever. I can’t thank you enough,” she said, rubbing her arms. She was shaking all over.
He leaned down, picked her up, and carried her toward the house. She looked at him in surprise, her lips parting to say something, but then she closed them again and buried her head into his chest. He had to admit he liked the feel of her, liked the way she smelled even better. He held her tighter, enjoying the feeling of knowing he saved her, that he was there for her when she needed him. It was a good feeling and one he hadn’t had since he left the service.
He carried her up onto the porch of his house. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. I was walking around looking for some greenery and pinecones for my table. It needed some color, and I figured it shouldn’t be that hard to find some. I was just w
alking along, and I fell. Just like that. Now my feet are soaking wet. All of me is wet. I’m frozen to the bone,” she said with stuttering breaths. “And I almost died.”
“But you didn’t. Because Sally rescued you.”
“I love that dog.”
“Hey, Mom. Are you here?” Beau asked as he carried her inside.
“Beau?” His mom came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Oh my, what happened?”
“She fell in a snowdrift out front.” He set her on the couch and pulled a blanket around her, then stoked the fire and got it roaring back to life.
“We need to check your feet for frostbite.” He pulled off her soaked boots and thin socks, then scowled as he held them up, then laid them on the hearth. “Where are you from?”
“San Francisco. We don’t get snow there. I’m afraid I wasn’t prepared.”
“I can see that.”
“I’ll get her a fresh pair,” his mom said and ran out of the room.
“I’m sorry to be so much trouble.” She examined her feet. “I’m afraid I’ve been causing you problems all day.”
“No trouble.” Her toenails were a bright pink. There was no sign of frostbite, but her skin was a slight tinge of blue.
“Here you go,” his mother said, returning to the room and handing her a pair of thick socks.
“I’m so sorry,” the woman repeated, but she happily took the socks and pulled them over her feet.
“Don’t be silly. These things happen. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks to your dog. She found me.”
“Aren’t you a good girl?” She ruffled Sally’s head. “I’m Connie Rivers,” his mom introduced herself.
“Phoebe Lawson. Thank you so much for your kindness.”
“How about something warm to drink?”
“Coffee would be wonderful.”
“Coming right up. You want some, Beau?”
“That would be great. Thanks, Mom.”
All Night Long: Kiss The Bride #2 Page 3