by Olivia Miles
Anna dropped her bag and hurried over to them on the sidewalk. “Rosemary?” She placed a hand on the woman’s arm. “Are you okay?”
“It’s just… this heat!”
Anna regarded her quizzically. “Heat?” A cool breeze rustled the leaves in the oak trees lining Main Street. “You’re worrying me, Rosemary.”
Mark frowned in concern. “Let’s have you sit down on a bench, Aunt Rosemary. Anna, can you run and grab some water from next door?”
“What?” Rosemary asked sharply. Then, catching their shocked expressions, said hurriedly, “No, no. Don’t leave, Anna. Stay right here with me. And Mark.”
Anna glanced up the street. “Oh, but—”
Rosemary groaned, and Mark and Anna froze. “I… think I might faint. My head…”
“Let’s get you over to this bench,” Mark ordered, and Anna helped, arranging Rosemary gingerly onto a shaded bench. “I’ll go get the water.”
“No. No. Just stay… here. With me. For a few minutes. Both of you.”
Anna and Mark exchanged glances and finally, shrugging, did as they were told. Anna inched forward, hoping to sit on the far left, but Rosemary pushed herself all the way to the end, leaving Anna no choice but to sandwich herself in the middle. A strange smile passed over Rosemary’s painted lips as Mark settled onto the bench, so close to Anna that she could feel the heat of his body on hers, and the steady rise and fall of his breath through his chest.
Her chest tightened and she pushed away from him, but Rosemary didn’t budge.
“A little more space, dear,” she said, and Anna, sighing, inched closer to Mark. “A little more. There.”
Anna gritted her teeth, steeling herself against the desire that coursed through her blood. “Why don’t I get that water?” she suggested, but Rosemary smacked a hand on her knee.
“No. Just stay. It’s only a dizzy spell. It will pass in no time.” She smiled wanly and leaned back on the bench, glancing sidelong at Anna’s arm, which was unfortunately resting on Mark’s upper thigh. “Now, isn’t this cozy?”
Cozy. Anna’s mind whirred, but her body was doing all the talking. Every shift of his body, every breath that he took brought her back to a time and place she needed to forget. For months after they’d parted, she could still remember the feel of his touch, the way his body felt next to hers, the natural ease of his kiss. It had taken years to banish that memory, and now, thanks to Rosemary’s suspicious behavior, it was all flooding back.
CHAPTER
20
Anna plunked into one of the old chenille club chairs near the window of Main Street Books, watching as Grace rang up a customer. Grace handed over the brown paper bag stamped with their newly designed logo and glanced at her ring finger. The cushion-cut diamond on a thin platinum band was stunning, and even from across the room, Anna caught its sparkle.
“Have you and Luke discussed a date?” she asked, determined to steer the topic of conversation away from herself. She didn’t need Grace inquiring into the state of her bad mood or the causes behind it. The contest was only two days away. She should be happy. She should be nervous, even. Instead, all she felt was sadness. Come next week, she and Mark would go back to the way things were—the way things had to be, she told herself firmly.
“Oh.” A mysterious smile swept over Grace’s face. Her eyes went to the ring again. “We were thinking a fall wedding might be nice. It doesn’t leave much room for planning, but we’ve lost enough time.”
Anna tried not to let her sister’s last comment sink in. “Is Ivy doing the flowers?” she inquired.
Grace nodded. “She’ll be in the wedding too, of course, along with you and Jane, and Kara and Molly.”
And Mark, she thought.
There was no getting around it, not in a town this small, not when her sister was marrying into Mark’s family.
“Are you taking his name?”
Until now, she hadn’t considered it. Her sister was going to be Grace Hastings. Once she had thought she might be Anna Hastings. Oh, what a silly girl she had been.
“I think so,” Grace said, giving another dreamy sigh. “It feels a little weird to think about not being a Madison anymore. It’s just one more connection I’ll lose to Dad.”
“He loved Luke like his own son.” Anna gave her sister a sad smile. “And you have this place. You have Dad’s legacy.”
“I can’t imagine what I would have done if we’d lost this place,” Grace agreed, and Anna felt a ripple of panic roll through her stomach. Nearly a month had passed since the fire, and the next loan payment was due in a couple of weeks. She’d be able to cover it—barely—but the next… She blew out a shaky breath.
“You know, it’s funny,” Grace said as she came around the polished wood counter and began dusting a bookshelf. “I never understood why Mark chose to take over the diner instead of opening a restaurant in his father’s old space.”
Anna inspected her fingernails, deciding to get a manicure before the weekend’s events, if time permitted, and waited for the subject to drop. She knew damn well that Mark hadn’t set out to run a diner—not at first, at least—but Grace didn’t need to know that. It would just lead to a series of questions Anna would rather not answer. Ever.
She pushed herself off the chair and smoothed her skirt. The Annex was empty, and on the counter sat at least a quarter of the food she’d brought over that morning. It was already five—the chances of anyone stopping in for more than a hot tea after dinner were slim. At best, they might sell a cookie or two. She’d prepared more than they typically sold in a burst of optimism, hoping that more offerings would entice customers, but now she felt the sting of reality that she might be forced to ask for Luke’s help, to admit she had tried and failed.
“Well, I should probably head over to Mark’s to work on our contest entry.” The words were spoken with such nervous energy that she was sure Grace would notice, but instead her sister’s green eyes sparked.
“Good luck. I don’t know how I’ll sleep tomorrow night; I’ll be so nervous for Saturday!”
Anna kept quiet. That made two of them. “I think I’ll stop by the dance studio first. Rosemary works Thursday, right?”
Grace set down her dust rag. “Don’t be too hard on her about your date with Simon,” she warned.
Anna gave her a long look. “Grace, she set me up with the one man in town she knew I would have absolutely no interest in.”
Well, not the only one, she thought to herself.
“She probably forgot!”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do.”
“You’re right,” Grace said quietly, giving a small smile. “Just… go easy on her. I’m sure her intentions were in the right place.”
Oh, they most certainly were, if Anna knew Rosemary. Rosemary did mean well—it was why she had suggested the contest after all—but when it came to her love life, Anna could do without Rosemary’s help. Judging from the strange pleasure she’d taken in her so-called fainting spell yesterday, Anna was beginning to think Rosemary had her sights set on Mark for the next date. And there was no way she could allow that to happen.
She pulled the door and a jingle of bells sent her off, but her spirits deflated the moment her feet hit the pavement. She hated keeping the truth from her sister, but worrying her didn’t seem fair either. Grace had finally found her happy ending after so many years apart from Luke. Who was Anna to ruin this time for her now, when Grace finally had everything she’d always wanted? It could only lead to more strain between them, when they were finally behaving like sisters again.
She wouldn’t say a word about the loan. Not until after the contest. And hopefully by then, she wouldn’t need to.
Anna took her time meandering down Main Street, stopping to glance in shop windows and peer into the pub, which was already crowded even though the sun hadn’t yet ducked behind the mountains. The sky had turned pink, and clouds swirled in shades of lavender, drumming up images of cotto
n candy and all sorts of confections Anna had so enjoyed making in her pastry classes back in school.
The studio was four blocks east of Main Street, on the first floor of an old red barn. Rosemary had transformed the space, putting in walls of mirrors, a state-of-the-art sound system, and dressing rooms that were every little girl’s paradise with pink walls, crystal chandeliers, and purple velvet–covered benches tucked into white vanities.
Anna pushed through one of the double glass doors and entered the lobby, which was closed off from the main studio by a one-way window. Inside, she saw Jane shuffling about in her ballet slippers, her pale pink leg warmers pulled to the knee, tidying up what appeared to be a mounting pile of fluffy tutus.
Ducking through the partially open door to the studio, Anna called, “Need a hand?”
Jane tossed her a grateful smile and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “I’m just finishing up for the day. Feel free to come in, but remove your shoes first.”
“Is Rosemary here?” Anna looked around the studio.
“She might be in her office,” Jane volunteered.
“Good. I wanted to talk to her about this matchmaking scheme.”
“Oh?” Jane looked away, bending down to stuff the tutus into a wicker basket at the end of the barre.
“You know she set me up with Simon last weekend, right?” Anna bent to help Jane return a pile of classical music CDs to their holders.
Jane laughed. “Grace told me. I take it you didn’t have a good time?”
“If you call defending my choice of career—or lack thereof—a nice time, then yes, it was wonderful. About as enjoyable as staring at Simon’s retainer, which served as a centerpiece for most of the meal.”
Jane’s hazel eyes grew large. “He didn’t!”
“Oh, yes,” Anna said. “He did.”
Jane clapped a hand to her mouth, but it did little to muffle her roar of laughter. “Oh, come on, Anna,” she said, when she’d calmed down. “You have to admit it’s funny.”
“You don’t see me laughing about your recent date with Mr. Wonderful,” Anna reminded her.
“Fair enough,” Jane said. “But this is Simon we’re talking about. Remember the time he stole a pair of gold earrings from his mother’s jewelry box and gave them to you as a gift?”
“For Valentine’s Day.” Anna had to laugh at the memory. “I came home and showed Mom and she demanded I return them. I didn’t even have my ears pierced.”
“He always had a thing for you,” Jane said ruefully.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we’re a good match.”
“What’s this about a good match?” Rosemary stood in the open doorway, wearing a black leotard and matching chiffon skirt that skimmed her knees. She strode into the room, still in her well-worn ballet slippers, and paused with her hand on the barre. An expectant expression took over her fine features, and Anna felt herself begin to waver.
But no. No. Rosemary had insinuated she chose her date with Simon for a reason, and Anna wanted to know just what that reason was.
“How are you feeling today, Rosemary?” Anna began.
Rosemary turned to her, her face folded in confusion. “Just fine, of course!”
Anna frowned. “So no more… fainting scares?”
Rosemary seemed to blanch. “Oh. No. No, mercifully, no.” Her eyes shifted to the mirror. “It was so sweet of you and Mark to sit with me.”
“Yes, well, it’s good that you had such a quick recovery,” Anna said, recalling the way after half an hour of being pressed against Mark’s warm body, feeling the cords of his muscles under the thin material of his T-shirt, and every bit of willpower she had left turn to jelly. Rosemary had claimed she was feeling better, and with a bright smile, all but bounced off, waving off their concern. “It was the least I could do, since you’ve helped me out so much recently. And about that… Jane and I were just talking about our recent dates.” She squared her shoulders. “I don’t think we need your help in the romance department anymore.”
Rosemary ever so slowly lifted a brow and turned to the mirror to tuck a loose strand of hair into her bun. “No?”
“No,” Anna said firmly. She had expected Rosemary to argue, but her lack of outward reaction was far more disconcerting. “I know I asked you to set me up, but I’m sticking with my original decision. I don’t need any help.”
“Don’t you?” Rosemary tipped her head to the side, admiring her reflection from another angle, catching Anna’s eye in the mirror. “Remember, Anna, we had a deal.”
“And that deal is over. Jane told you that she didn’t want to be set up anymore. I was there when she said it. That means I’m off the hook, too.”
Rosemary’s blue gaze shifted to Jane, who stayed engrossed in the task of removing her slippers and placing them in the canvas bag she brought with her to work. “Oh, but you see, Anna, Jane’s had a change of heart. Go on, Jane; tell her.”
Anna snapped her attention to Jane, whose cheeks had turned pink with a guilty flush. “Jane?” she demanded. “Is this true?”
Jane gave a small shrug, barely meeting her eye. “You know what they say… three’s a charm.”
Anna waited a beat before speaking again, for fear she might lose her temper. “So you’ve asked Rosemary to match you up again?”
Jane skirted her gaze to Rosemary, whose lips had pursed into a pleased pinch. “That’s right, Anna,” Rosemary said. “And you know what that means.”
She did. All too well. “Rosemary, I’m sorry, but no. I don’t have time for dating, not now.” Not… ever.
Rosemary tutted. “Nonsense. Everyone needs love.”
“Not me,” Anna insisted, folding her arms across her chest. “Besides, you told me that you had a perfect guy in mind for my date. You said by the end of it, I would know exactly the man I was looking for.”
Rosemary gave a knowing smile. “And did you?”
“Well, I knew exactly what kind of man I wasn’t looking for!”
Rosemary’s smile broadened. “That’s half the battle.”
Anna’s mouth fell open but no sound escaped. Jane sat on the floor, still unwilling to meet her eye, but Anna knew better than to say anything to her. Her sister wanted to find love, and she couldn’t fault her for wanting such a thing.
Even if it was more trouble than it was worth.
CHAPTER
21
Anna lived at the north edge of town, a few miles from her restaurant, on the second floor of a two-flat that bordered Willow Park. Even though Mark had never been invited over, Briar Creek was small, and his cousin Kara lived a few houses down the road, closer to Cedar Lake. More than once he’d seen Anna outside her building, planting tulips or collecting her mail, and each time he’d have to fight the kick in his chest, the urge to pull over and call out to her.
He dropped off the paycheck Kara had left behind that day and cut the engine in front of the green-and-white house set behind a row of hydrangea bushes. They had arranged to meet at his place at seven, but it would just be a repeat of last night, and this morning, and every other interaction since last weekend. Chilly silences, brittle conversation. Missed opportunities.
Time to change that.
His mind made up, he climbed out of the car and took the stairs two at a time. A wreath hung on the door to her unit, oddly welcoming him into a place he’d never been invited. His fist hovered over it, finally falling hard on its oak surface.
Before he had time to reflect, there was a turning of the latch, and the door swung open. Surprise lifted the corners of Anna’s mouth into something that bordered on a pleasant smile.
“I was just getting ready to meet you. Did we…” She hesitated, her hand still clutching the doorknob, as she tipped her head in confusion. “Weren’t we meeting at your house?”
Mark nodded once, and his groin tightened as his gaze shifted over her body. She was barefoot, in a knee-length cotton skirt and a pale blue tank top that cinched her waist an
d dipped at the swell of her breasts, revealing the faintest hint of what lay beneath the soft cotton. Honey blond hair skimmed her shoulders, reflecting off the golden sunset filtering through the window at the back of her apartment.
He swallowed hard and forced himself to focus on the inquisitive spark of her turquoise gaze. “I was in the area. I had to drop something off to Kara. Thought I’d see if you were home.” He rubbed his chin and shifted the weight on his feet, wondering just what the hell had gotten into him. Talking to women came easily to him—too easily, Anna might say—and yet here he stood, feeling downright nervous.
After a long pause, Anna opened the door wider. “I don’t mind using my kitchen tonight, if you don’t mind the small quarters.”
Mark glanced around the front hall, and the rooms that spiraled off from it. The kitchen was at the back, basking in the golden glow of the fading sun. To the left was the living room, cozy and clean, with a white couch and chairs, and an area rug in a floral pattern. Soft green curtains hung from the tall windows, and lamps dotted the room.
He imagined Anna curled up against one of the colorful throw pillows. He imagined himself next to her. It was a dangerous image, but a tempting one nonetheless.
“Shall we?” she asked, turning abruptly to move into the kitchen. He followed her, his eyes sweeping the rooms, imagining her living here all these years. He spotted the little stuffed bird he’d won for her at a carnival one of those last weekends at the Cape—when everything was so painfully perfect his senses were on high alert, twitchy and panicked, waiting for it all to come crashing down.
“You kept it.” He pointed to the small toy tucked on the windowsill of her bedroom. It was no bigger than the palm of his hand. Somehow his memory had distorted it, making it bigger.
“I was saving it for—” She stopped herself, lowering her eyes. “Yes. I kept it.”
“Good. I had to chuck about a hundred ping-pong balls into that bucket to finally earn that thing.”
“Yes, well. We should probably start cooking,” she said. She reached out and closed the bedroom door. “I’ve been thinking more about whether to use soy or mustard for the maple glaze on the salmon and I still think that mustard is best. I went shopping this afternoon, so I have everything on hand.”