And as bad as she felt, Olivia had to admit that Sarah’s mistake could be the biggest boost her photography career had ever had. Her photo had gone viral? What were people seeing in it that was any different than the hundreds of thousands of shots of horses out there? She herself had identified something ethereal and exceptional about Rowan. Racing potential aside, maybe it was that magical quality that Rafe wanted to keep for himself.
Olivia knew she deserved every bit of his anger. If someone had posted one of her private photographs, she would have been livid. But she wasn’t sure she bought his argument about publicity.
“Rafe, most of the people who saw these posts aren’t horse people or race lovers. They’re just people. Moms. Dads. Friends. I think you’re getting worked up about something that may not impact you at all.”
He looked as if he wanted to chop her head off. “I don’t like it, Olivia! This horse was important to my dad.”
There, she thought. So this was about his grief. If she was ever going to be his friend, it should start today. “Rafe,” she said gently. “Rowan is magnificent already. A photo won’t take that away.”
“He can be better,” Rafe retorted sharply. “Look, I can’t expect a—a caterer—to understand what I’ve spent a lifetime learning. Rowan isn’t just a horse. He’s a champion. He has incredible genes.”
“I believe that,” she said, choosing to ignore his condescension.
“Good. Great. Then you’ll control your urge to try to make yourself seem special to your girlfriends by using my horse.”
Okay, that was it. Olivia put her hands on her hips and marched around the bakery case and right up to Rafe. “Look, you bonehead, I did nothing of the kind.” She tilted her head back to glare at him. “Coming here to insult me doesn’t get that post off social media. It doesn’t help your horse win a race. What it does is tell me you chose me to be angry at today. Bingo! I’m the winner. I’m truly sorry that your dad died, but that doesn’t give you the right to come into my restaurant and bawl me out for something unintentional. It was stupid—I’ll give you that. And I can promise you it won’t happen again. Ever.”
Olivia stepped back. She had a crick in her neck from how close she’d been standing. It was the first time she realized how tall he was. “Now, please leave.”
“Fine.” He stomped away. Just as he reached the door, he swiveled around. “You’re right. I am angry about my dad. And I did take it out on you. That wasn’t fair. I’m sorry for that. Goodbye, Olivia.”
“Goodbye, Rafe.”
Olivia walked to the picture window, and through the gold lettering, she watched him get in his truck and drive off. She went to the door and locked it. Double-checked it to make sure it was secure.
Rafe had acted like a jerk tonight. Yet she didn’t feel maligned. If anything, she felt compelled to run after him and give him a hug. He was obviously in a great deal of pain and didn’t know how to deal with it.
Still, Olivia felt bad about the photograph. She’d call Sarah to make sure she didn’t re-Tweet or repost it, though she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to ask her friend to take it down. As selfish as it might be, Olivia was secretly thrilled so many people were seeing her work.
As for Rafe, Olivia’s heart filled with compassion for him. At the same time, his visit had disturbed her. He’d been reactive and volatile, and running through all of it was the idea that his horse was “special.” A winner. She’d heard those same words come out of her father’s mouth. Too many times.
Olivia had bonded with Rowan, but she wasn’t pinning her hopes and dreams on him the way Rafe was. It was possible that Rafe’s grief was too deep for tears and he’d subconsciously convinced himself that winning the Derby or some important race would bring his dad back. Had Rafe fallen into that unhealthy mind-set? It was a common enough coping skill for those who’d lost a loved one. Olivia had certainly done her fair share of magical thinking when her dad was around.
Olivia turned out the rest of the lights in the deli. Maybe she should stop at the hardware store on the way home, she thought. Maybe caution tape wasn’t enough where Rafe was concerned. Maybe she needed razor wire.
CHAPTER NINE
JULIA’S HOME LOOKED like a doll’s house. Surrounded by a white picket fence, it was only a story and a half with a bedroom and bath in the loft. The exterior was painted a New England blue with white shutters and a dark blue shingled roof. There were newly planted pansies in the flower boxes on either side of the small front porch.
In the summer the garden would be a sea of herbs, forty varieties of lavender, edible violets, nasturtiums and chrysanthemums. Julia had planted six raised beds in the back, where she grew tomatoes, shallots, lettuces, peas and beans. She’d lashed together tree branches into six-foot-high tripods, which would support squash, cucumbers and pumpkins and prevent them from rotting on the wet ground.
Olivia smiled as she pulled up to the house and pictured the garden in full bloom. At this time of year, her mother spent her nights in the potting shed under an electric heater, tending her seedlings and planning new recipes around the vegetables she was just starting to put in the ground.
After locking her van, she walked up the flagstone walk to the front door. Julia greeted her with a mug of coffee.
“Hello, darling.” Julia smiled and kissed Olivia’s cheek. “I made cappuccino. We’ll need the caffeine.”
Olivia took the mug and followed her mom into the living room, taking a seat on one of the floral love seats in front of the fireplace. On the mantel was Olivia’s high school graduation photograph alongside two tennis tournament trophies she’d won in her senior year before breaking her ankle in the sectional playoffs. Olivia had asked her mother several times to put the trophies and photograph away, but Julia had been proud of her daughter’s accomplishments, and so the mementos remained.
The main floor was open concept, with the kitchen taking up half the space, and a round walnut pedestal table sitting between it and the living area. Olivia had worked puzzles, completed homework and cut her high school graduation cake at that table. It had three leaves and could be extended when Julia needed space to assemble party trays or spread out order books and catalogs when planning a major event.
Like now.
Not only was the table extended to its full length, but it was also covered with magazines, boxes of invitations, two calculators, legal pads and catalogs for everything from tents to fabrics to flowers.
“What’s going on?” Olivia asked, taking a big slug of coffee. She went to the table and lifted one of the catalogs, finding an issue of Bride’s Magazine underneath. She whirled around to stare at her mother. “I came to help plan Liz and Gabe’s baby shower. I brought some notes that Gina gave me. But these are wedding books...”
Julia beamed proudly. “I’ve been on the phone for hours with Katia Stanislaus.”
Olivia’s mouth fell open. “We’re catering Austin and Katia’s wedding?”
“No. We’ve been hired to help plan the entire event. From the rehearsal dinner to the reception.”
Olivia lowered herself into a chair and held on to the back. She didn’t know whether to be thrilled or run for shelter. “Can we do this? I mean, we’ve done small weddings, showers—sure. But Austin McCreary. He’s...discerning, to say the least.”
Julia burst into laughter. “You should see your face. I would think you would enjoy the challenge.”
“Mom. I’ve seen those celebrity weddings you’re always making me watch. I’m sure that Austin—”
Julia sat down next to her and took Olivia’s hand. “That’s the best part. They’re only having forty guests.”
Olivia was speechless. Austin had been a regular customer of theirs since the day they’d opened their doors, and she had no doubt he was the reason they’d been hired. But something wasn’t ad
ding up. “Forty? I don’t get it.”
“Katia told me she only has an aunt and two cousins in Chicago. Austin has no family left. Everything will be held at his house. The ceremony will be in the living room. The dinner outside on the tennis court.” Julia picked up the tent rental catalog. “That’s why we need this. She wants a Medieval-looking tent.”
“Okay, so only forty guests, but exquisite.”
“Her words exactly.”
“Now I’m really worried,” Olivia said, scanning the items on the table. She pointed to the box of invitations. “Katia wants us to help with the invitations, as well?”
“Actually, she’s already got the invitation. She sent me a picture of it. Hold on.” Julia picked up her iPhone and scrolled through her messages. “Here it is.” She showed Olivia. “I thought I’d seen everything, but this is amazing.”
The invitation was padded crème satin fabric overlaid with a gathered black sash. Sealing the invitation closed were two rhinestone “brooches” that looked to Olivia like Edwardian period reproductions. She swiped to the next image, which showed the black script lettering on the inside of the invitation.
“They want a June wedding? Is that enough time?”
“Not really. I told Katia that, but she said she didn’t care. My bet is there won’t be a tent available within three hundred miles of Indian Lake. We may have to rent out of Ohio.”
“Every chair and table and linen will be rented. Not to mention glasses and china.”
“I thought of that, but they’re using Hannah’s dishes, serving pieces and stemware. Even the tablecloths and napkins. They won’t all match, but that’s kind of the beauty of the whole thing.”
Olivia grabbed a legal pad and started making notes. “Austin’s kitchen is large enough that we can work there.” She glanced up at her mother. “Has Katia talked about the menu yet?”
“We’re batting around ideas. Nothing concrete yet, but she’s leaning toward rack of lamb. With only forty people, it’s not such a big production.”
Olivia tapped the pencil against her cheek. “Staff. We’re going to need a bartender and then two people for pickup and cleaning.” She paused, thinking of Austin’s housekeeper. “Will Daisy be a guest?”
“Yes. I didn’t even ask. Katia made it clear that Daisy wasn’t to work that day.”
“Flowers. Cake? I assume Maddie will make the cake.”
“Correct,” Julia replied and finished her cappuccino. She scrolled through her photos. “This is the cake Katia wants. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
The three-tiered cake resembled a stack of gifts, complete with white bows, icing roses and latticework decor. “It’s magnificent. Have you talked to Maddie yet?”
“She sent me a text and said it was no problem.”
“Maddie is so talented. She could create anything. After that Chanel purse cake she made for Mrs. Beabots’s birthday party last year, I thought I’d seen it all. Apparently not.”
“Katia is meeting with the florist this week. I’ve hired the musicians. That leaves the photographer.” Julia stared at Olivia with a long, penetrating gaze.
Olivia knew that look. It was the one Julia threw at her whenever she elected Olivia for a specific job or task. It was decisive and final. Once Julia made up her mind, she was unwavering.
Olivia threw up her hands. “Oh, no.”
“No one in town can shoot a wedding like you. That is, when you deign to do so.”
“Weddings are so boring,” Olivia groaned.
“Look, I’m not relegating you to a lifetime of wedding photography. I know you have high aspirations. It’s just this one...”
“Impossible,” Olivia said sternly. “Besides, I have to either be the photographer or the caterer. I can’t do both.”
“I know that. So you’ll be the photographer. I can hire someone to help in the kitchen. This is too important. Katia wants you to take her engagement pictures, the formal wedding pictures, rehearsal dinner, showers if there are any and all the candid shots of the ceremony and reception. We’ll need a videographer, too.”
“That’s a lot of work.”
“Commensurate with the fee she’s paying.” Julia smiled.
“She really wants me this much?”
“They both do.”
Olivia was flattered, and the praise and acceptance created a warm feeling inside her. It had been months since anyone had acknowledged her talent professionally. Her girlfriends were always very sweet about the Christmas pictures she shared with them or the group shots at birthday parties. Julia was right. Austin and Katia could hire a photographer from Chicago or even New York if they wanted. But they didn’t. They wanted her.
“Let me see what I can do about a videographer. I know a good one out of New Buffalo, and if he’s booked there’s that guy from Indianapolis that Sarah hired,” she offered. “You’re right, Mom. Wedding photographs last a lifetime. Even generations. These have to be so special.”
“Isn’t it exciting? Can you imagine what you could do with her photographs? I mean if this invitation is a preview of what Katia expects this wedding to look like, your photos could be spectacular. Maybe you could send them to one of these bridal magazines. Who knows, sweetheart? Maybe they would hire you.”
“Oh, Mom. That’s such a long shot.”
“Life is a long shot, sweetie pie. How do you know if you don’t try?”
Try. Yes. She needed to get her act together. She needed to try. Maybe her mom was right. Katia’s wedding would give her an opportunity she hadn’t had before. Already she envisioned how she would pose gorgeous Katia and handsome Austin, dressed in their wedding ensembles and standing in a summer garden or next to one of his fantastic antique cars.
“I don’t suppose she’s talked about the wedding party. Attendants?”
“Actually, yes. Liz is the maid of honor. The baby isn’t due until late July or early August, and Katia was adamant that Liz stand up for her. They’ve become quite close, I understand. Then Sarah and Luke’s kids—Annie will be flower girl and Timmy the ring bearer,” Julia said, looking down at her pad. “Oh, and Rafe is best man.”
Olivia’s hand froze, and slowly she put her pen down. It made sense. Rafe was Austin’s best friend. Before Katia came to town, one of the only people Olivia ever saw Austin with was Rafe.
Olivia put her hand to her cheek as her face grew hot. It was hard enough to take Rafe dressed in jeans and boots. In a tux, he’d kill her. She’d have to wear armor to deflect his charm...except for the fact that he terrified her nearly as much as he magnetized her. Well, she just had to make sure that armor was extra-strong. She had vowed never to get involved with anyone in horse racing. She didn’t need to relive that kind of heartbreak.
In any case, the way he’d acted last night proved that whatever connection they might have made had been severed. There was even a chance they could meet at Austin and Katia’s wedding as photographer and guest. Professional. No emotion.
Yeah, right.
“What’s wrong?” Julia asked.
“Nothing. Why?”
“You haven’t taken a breath since I mentioned Rafe Barzonni.”
“We, uh, we had a slight altercation,” Olivia admitted sheepishly. She twirled her finger around in a circle on the pad, the way she’d done since she was a child whenever she was trying to think up an excuse.
“How slight are we talking?” Julia probed cautiously.
“Okay, not a fender bender, but not legally actionable, either.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Olivia, what did you do?”
Olivia peered up at her mother, wishing she didn’t feel so small and ashamed. Surely, there would come a day when she would handle her life with more confidence. But obviously she wasn’t there yet. “After you left the funeral dinner, Gin
a asked me to take a plate of food down to the horse trainer, Curt, in the stable where he was working...”
“Yes, I saw the stable. Go on.”
Olivia wished her mother wasn’t so anxious for this confession. Olivia folded her hands in her lap to stop herself from squirming as she explained about the photo shoot with Rowan and the social media debacle.
“Why would he be mad about that?” Julia asked, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
Olivia heaved a deep sigh. “Because he specifically asked me not to let anyone see them.”
Julia dropped her forehead to her palm. “You didn’t.”
“I did. Well, not on purpose. I forgot about the promise. Spending time with Rowan made me think about how I first fell in love with horses, and I wanted to thank Sarah for all those times she took me to her dressage class.”
“I so wished I could have afforded classes for you, too,” Julia said despondently.
Olivia reached out to her. “It’s not that, Mom. I never felt bad about it. I didn’t care about riding. I cared that I was there. I got to touch the horses and talk to them. I took pictures of them on those disposable cameras I bought with my allowance.”
Julia gave Olivia’s hand a little squeeze. “And Sarah, being your number one fan, posted the photo. I’m sure it was phenomenal.”
“One of my best,” Olivia admitted. “Sarah alone has had over a hundred likes on it. People I don’t know are Tweeting it and sharing it. It’s been a nightmare.” She didn’t want her mom to know she was also enjoying the attention.
Julia was quiet for a long moment before she said, “It’ll blow over. Things like this always do.”
“I’m not so sure. Rafe wants to race Rowan professionally. He said that he didn’t want people who might also be judges or reporters to see photos of Rowan before he was ready to be presented publicly. Rafe and his father had talked about trying to get Rowan into the trials for the Kentucky Derby, at the very least.”
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