by Jean Oram
“Oh, sweetie,” Mary Alice said good-naturedly, “you don’t get teased much, do you? But it’s obvious you two have something.”
Olivia shook her head. They most definitely did not have something, unless it was the urge to bury each other under ten feet of sand. Okay, maybe that was a little extreme. It was probably more like five feet.
But there was nothing to speculate about other than how much Devon must work out to have such a ripped chest. And those big, strong arms. She’d always been such a sucker for them. That and his sense of humor and the way he made the whole world seem like a fun place when he was around.
She cleared her throat. “Do you know where I can purchase a briefcase?”
Maybe he’d allow her to give him a small makeover. Just to take that immature edge off, so he’d look like a real contender and not someone playacting at adulthood. Because the more she thought about it, the more she realized her only hope for securing the meadow of valerian long enough to figure out if it was what she needed was to ensure Devon won the mayoral seat. And that meant she had to intervene a teeny bit.
“In town?” Mary Alice gazed up the street as though mentally checking each store. “Now that’s a good question. That’s not something we need much here in the mountains.” She glanced at Olivia’s Chanel dress.
The woman reached down the front of her own floral blouse, digging around until she pulled out what looked like a tin of mints. Olivia leaned away from the window, trying not to appear bothered by her lack of boundaries.
“Mint?” the woman asked, offering the tin.
“No, no thank you.” She glanced at Ginger’s store. The lights were on even though the sign said Closed Sundays. “Is she open today?”
“Not officially, but she’s often in there puttering about.”
“Great.” Olivia left her windows open an inch or two for her dog and got out of the car. She shivered as the cool mountain air hit her, and pulled her suit jacket tighter around her. It was a chilly morning, the town still shadowed by the nearby peaks, some of which were still snowy despite it being mid-June.
Mary Alice made a comment about how a classic A-line gown would suit Olivia, and led her to the bridal store. As Olivia opened the door she paused, taking in the rows upon rows of gleaming, pristine gowns as their flood of possible happily ever after dreams rushed over her. New lives. Love and expectations. It all hit her like a surprise punch to the gut and she couldn’t figure out why. She stood in the doorway, not quite inside and not quite out.
She wanted a happily ever after. She did. But she couldn’t see Luke as the man waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Why was that? What was wrong with her? He was perfect and her parents adored him.
Mary Alice gave her an encouraging shove forward, breaking her stream of thoughts.
“Hello?” Olivia called, realizing with relief that Mary Alice had abandoned her. The last thing she needed was the town gossip trying to outfit her in bridal wear.
A woman with auburn curls was adjusting a gorgeous trumpet-skirted gown in a raised display case. She turned, a friendly smile in place. “Good morning. I’m not officially open except for brides with emergen—Olivia!” Ginger’s eyes lit up and she bounded over, arms open, squealing in delight. She engulfed Olivia in a hug. “I can’t believe it’s you! Logan said you were in town, but he was being so secretive.” She rolled her eyes and waved a hand through the air, and Olivia caught the flash of her new ring. “He’s so overprotective and acts like everything is such a big drama. How are you?”
Olivia snagged her friend’s hand to take in the spiral Celtic knot design of her ring. The knots were woven in around emeralds and diamonds, possibly the most unique piece of jewelry she’d ever seen and totally Ginger.
“It’s beautiful. Where did you two meet?”
It was girlie-girl chat time.
“At this amazing corporate retreat. I learned so much about the wedding industry, matched up three couples and came home with a husband. It was a good week.”
“A week?” Olivia asked in disbelief. She hadn’t heard that part of the story. Then again, she knew that when love struck, it moved like lightning, quick and with an unrelenting force.
I’ll bet the two of you are married by the end of the month.
Ha! And pigs were going to learn to fly, too.
“A week,” Ginger confirmed with a grin. “He’s got the best accent in the world.”
Olivia laughed, thinking back to college parties. It felt so long ago, but some things never changed—such as Ginger’s taste in men. “So was it a whirlwind fairy tale romance?”
Ginger beamed, just about hugging herself with happiness. “Totally. And his adopted daughter is fantastic. She’s fitting in here in town which is a big relief since Annabelle has special needs and was doing really well back in Indigo Bay.” She paused, her expression expectant. “So? I heard Carrington Cosmetics brings you to Blueberry Springs?”
“We’re looking into the local strain of valerian.”
“Those stinky white flowers?”
“Those are the ones.”
“Ew.”
Olivia laughed at her friend’s honest reaction. There was no pretense with Ginger and never had been. She was a bubbly open book. “They don’t stink once you boil them. Then they actually come in quite handy.”
“Come! Let’s talk. We have so much to catch up on.” She began ushering Olivia toward the back of the store, through rows of gowns whispering promises of a lifetime of love and devotion as they passed.
“Don’t you have to work? I mean—”
“Oh, shush! How often do I get to see you in the flesh? Two or three times a decade?”
Ginger led her into a room littered with boxes. There was a beautiful antique table with four chairs set in a corner, at odds with the dented green fridge and stained laundry sink that sat behind it. Really, the room was like a massive, disorganized, disjointed kitchen slash storeroom.
Her friend began moving boxes out of the way so she could get clean cups from a cupboard. She then poured two coffees, placing them on the table along with cream and sugar.
Ah, she was a good friend. No awful coffee served straight up around here.
“So I heard Devon tracked you down?” Ginger had a sly look in her eye. She’d been there when everything had collapsed between them and knew how destroyed Olivia had been, and how she’d even transferred universities, unable to face seeing him again. Ginger was one of the very few people who knew everything, but that didn’t mean Olivia wanted to go anywhere near memory lane just because she happened to be in the same town as Devon and sort of working together temporarily.
“Let’s not talk about all that. Tell me about you. You own the store now?”
Out of habit, Olivia idly flipped over a dog-eared wedding magazine that sat on the table, checking the back cover. Not surprisingly, it held a Carrington Cosmetics ad. And naturally, being from a few years ago, it featured her and her younger sister—the faces of Carrington. Somehow seeing herself in glossy ads still caught her by surprise, but this time it was more what she saw in her photographed expression that took her off guard. Emma was as vibrant and full of life as ever, but Olivia looked…resigned at best.
She quickly turned the magazine over again. That couldn’t have been right. She loved her family, loved being part of the company, and the sense of independence and power her current job instilled in her. There was no sense of resignation there. The picture must have been taken by that awful photographer Vaughn, who’d always complained that Olivia wasn’t skinny enough, and had tried to hide her behind Emma whenever possible.
Ginger was chatting animatedly about the challenges and excitement of taking over her grandmother’s store, and she struggled to focus. At one point Olivia had hoped to get a minor in fashion design, with her business degree a backup. She’d been silly to think she could design something as intricate and fussy as wedding dresses for a living, that she could step away from her family and he
r real life to be with someone as carefree as Devon. To work in a small town, in a store exactly like this one.
“Are you okay?” Ginger asked softly.
“Yes, of course. I’m sorry.” She gave her friend a reassuring smile and sipped her coffee.
She’d definitely taken the right path with her life. She most definitely could not see herself working in a place like this. All those dresses and fabric. The pretty lace and pearl beads just waiting to be sewn onto a gown to make a perfect finishing touch for a glowing bride. That wasn’t something she could do.
“So?” Ginger was asking. She was leaning forward, her green eyes wide.
Olivia had lost track of the conversation again. “I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind.” And coming in here had been a big error. She couldn’t not think about Devon with Ginger around.
“It must be hard being around him.” Ginger’s hand rested over hers in sympathy. Her friend knew exactly where Olivia’s thoughts had strayed.
She slipped her hand away, grasping her coffee and taking a sip. She hated that the emotions she was struggling with were so obvious. “It’s fine. We’ve both moved on.” Her cup was empty and she carefully set it down, keeping both hands wrapped around it.
“Have you?” Ginger prodded gently. “You’re both still single.”
“It’s fine. Really. Just because he didn’t trust me and my plan, and thought his little dream world would be enough for us to—” She caught herself. She smoothed her dress over her thighs and tried for a smile. “Sorry. That’s all in the past. I’m in PR now and developing a new line of cosmetics. Let’s talk about our lives, our futures.”
Ginger nodded. “How long are you in town?”
“Maybe another night. It depends how today goes.”
“Did you find a place to stay? The town’s pretty booked up with the music festival.”
“Um, yes.”
Ginger gave her a sidelong look. They’d lived together for a few years while undergrads and she apparently still knew Olivia well.
“I stayed with Devon.” She felt herself blushing, images of Devon’s chest floating through her mind, that spark that had surged and flashed between them starting to burn through her again.
Ginger was trying her best not to grin.
“Not like that!” Olivia protested. Her cheeks were flaming at the thought.
“That must have been awkward.” Ginger was still trying to fight her smile. “I’d offer a place, but we basically live in a storeroom.”
“It’s fine,” she said quickly, eager to change the subject. She’d definitely made a mistake coming here. How could she not expect Ginger to want to talk about Devon and the fact that the two of them were currently joined at the hip after ignoring each other’s existence for years?
“He’s matured a lot since dropping out of school,” Ginger said quietly. “Don’t let his joking demeanor fool you.”
Olivia’s guard went up. “He can’t fool me.”
“According to Jill it sounds like you need him to win the election to save the valerian.”
Olivia sighed. Nothing was a secret in Blueberry Springs.
“Anything I can do to help? Maybe marry him off to someone so he looks less aloof and like a fancy-free bachelor? I had a jilted bride returning her gown the other day. She might be game.” Ginger took a sip of her coffee, mischievousness making the corners of her lips curve upward.
I’ll bet the two of you are married by the end of the month.
“Wait…” Olivia paused, focusing on something Ginger had said. “He dropped out of college?” Devon had had only had a few months left until graduation when they’d broken up.
“After you two…you know.” Ginger gave a small shoulder lift. “One day he was gone. Packed his bags and…” She made a whooshing sound.
But a degree was required for his current position as the town’s property manager. How did he get the job if he hadn’t completed his final semester?
And why had he left? Had he been more affected by their breakup and the miscarriage than he’d let on?
Why did that possibility feel as though it changed everything, when she knew it truly didn’t? There had to be another reason why he’d left.
Ginger was chatting, laughing here and there, and Olivia smiled where it felt right. But she needed space and time to think, to breathe.
Her phone buzzed with an incoming call and she excused herself to take it. It was Vintra. He was just about at the meadow’s parking lot. Not good. She needed to be out there in case the protesters returned and gave him grief. Plus they needed Devon out there with them. But before she could tell him to hold off, their connection cut out. She tried to call him back, with no luck.
“The cell service in this town is so frustrating,” Olivia complained as she tried to contact him again.
“Tell me about it,” Ginger commiserated. “The internet isn’t much better. But we have hunky men.” She smiled, leading Olivia back through the store. “You know, I always thought you’d end up designing dresses for this place.”
So had Olivia. But back then she’d been a fool in love and under the spell of endless, unrealistic possibilities.
“If you ever want to change careers, I’ll give you a shot,” Ginger declared, her expression open and happy.
Olivia gave her friend a smile that didn’t feel real. “That was just a hobby.”
“Do you still sew?”
She shook her head.
“Well, nuts. I had a whole thing planned out in my mind where we’d have our careers here, with our little ones ripping around the store…oh, well.” She gave Olivia a hug. “But if you do get bored while in town and still remember how to pull out a few stitches, my seamstress is tied up with a family emergency and I have a gown in desperate need of alterations. The poor bride lost ten pounds.”
“I have plenty on the go, but thank you for thinking of me.”
Ginger studied Olivia for a second, then in a flash threw her arms around her for another hug. “You guys can win this.”
“Huh? Sorry?”
“The election. All he needs is a wife, and his image will improve. That’ll help him win and you can get whatever you need for your product line.”
“A wife?” Olivia’s voice choked with disbelief. Ginger wasn’t kidding this time.
“You’re one of the best PR people on the planet. Tell me there isn’t a more expedient, surefire way to make Devon look like someone capable of running the town. Right now he screams carefree, daredevil bachelor. I was joking earlier, but honestly, there’s nothing that would make him look more dull, steady and reliable than being married.” Her grin grew. “Unless you’re a newlywed like me, of course. Then things are pretty exciting. Steamy, too.”
“How would Devon marrying someone in less than a week make him look stable and not whimsical, immature or carefree?”
“No, no,” Ginger laughed. “You’re thinking too far ahead. For now he only needs someone from his past to step up as his fiancée.”
5
Devon, still waiting to hear from Olivia and Vintra, stood outside his brother’s latest business purchase—Benny’s restaurant. Ethan had owned it for about a year and was already looking to sell it. However, Devon didn’t think it was merely because of the current tax issue. It was more that his brother’s web design company was taking off and he was burning both ends of the candle, running both places as well as Mandy’s old catering company, which Ethan had also bought out a while back. There seemed to be something about Mattsons biting off more than they could chew when it came to life and jobs.
Devon adjusted his clipboard, looking up the street. The Sunday morning foot traffic was greater than usual due to the music festival and he was catching quite a few people to sign his petitions. One to stop the dam, another to convince the town to release funds to replace the roof on the seniors’ continuing care wing. The center was attached to the hospital but under the authority of the town, and Barry Lunn believed a buck
et of tar would fix the fact that the roof was currently threatening to fall in on Blueberry Springs’s aging population. Not cool. Barry also seemed to think the dam would create jobs, but seeing the deal Barry had hashed out? There would be one new job. One.
The sun began to warm Devon as it reflected off the restaurant’s main bank of windows and he pushed up his shirtsleeves. In the distance the horizon was fringed with dark clouds, suggesting rainfall after lunch. He hoped Vintra would hurry up and arrive before then.
Bored, he waited for more people to walk by. So, so bored.
His mind wandered, curious as to the errands Olivia had scooted off to take care of. He’d bet anything she was working with her lawyers over the phone. Little did she know John Abcott was already modifying a boilerplate agreement from the town’s files and would have it ready by ten. Yes, that was right. One hour from now. Why? Because John was a good guy who was feeling on top of his game thanks to some running tips Devon had shared with him just that morning.
Uh-huh. Devon was connected. Not bad for a small-town dude.
He rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t slept well last night and needed to stay focused. Fighting with Olivia wouldn’t win him the election. Fulfilling his campaign promises ahead of time would. Getting a roof on the center. Stopping the dam. Getting a deal with Carrington. Those were the things that mattered. He would make a difference right here in his cotton shirt and jeans. He was a good fit for the job—despite what Olivia thought about his appearance. People liked him and that was what mattered. Right?
Devon smiled and snagged another group walking by, his little speech about why they should sign his petitions rolling off his tongue.
He thanked them for signing before stopping Mary Alice and her sister, Liz—two of the town’s biggest gossips and two of the biggest holdouts. If he got them on side it would definitely help his campaign. People listened to the sisters, who had some serious social sway.
“Hi, ladies. Want to add your signatures to my petition? I’ll take off my shirt if you do.” He flexed a biceps for them, his playful shtick feeling tired even to him.