One Perfect Day
Jennifer Youngblood
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
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1
A stab of uncertainty ran through Piper as she searched her brain. “No, that can’t be right. I double-checked the item numbers of the prints before I ordered them.” Hot prickles rained down on her. She’d been so meticulous. Had Deidre given her the wrong information? She began sifting through the papers on the reception desk where she was sitting, searching for the sticky note where Deidre had written down the item numbers.
“Well, obviously you didn’t, or you wouldn’t have shipped the wrong ones.” Deidre threw her hands in the air, leveling a hard glare. “This is a disaster! Mac and Angie Wilbrook’s anniversary party is tomorrow night. Mac was planning to present Angie with the prints.” She rubbed her forehead, barking out a brittle laugh as she paced back and forth in front of the desk. She stopped in her tracks, balling her fists. “I can’t believe this is happening, now, when we’re in the middle of getting ready for Nolan’s reception! Do you know how much clout Mac Wilbrook has in this town?” Her voice went shrill. “Do you?”
Piper flinched, drawing back. “Mac seems like a reasonable person. I’m sure he’ll understand that we made a mistake.”
Fire shot from Deidre’s eyes. “You made a mistake!” Her head swung back and forth. “How could you be so irresponsible?”
Piper’s chest squeezed. “Can we call the distributor and have them overnight the right prints?” Piper felt like a condemned prisoner at the gallows, and her executioner was her diva boss. Piper winced at the crimson filling Deidre’s fine-boned face. She looked like an overripe tomato about to burst.
“Sure!” Deidre spat. “The other ones only took … what? Three weeks to get there?”
“I’ll call Mac and explain the situation.” Piper continued searching through the items on the desk, looking for that blasted sticky note, which would hopefully get her off the hot-seat.
“You bet you will!” Deidre asserted.
Piper bristled. She hated it when Deidre went on her rants, something that was becoming more frequent. “Everyone makes mistakes,” Piper said, fighting to keep her voice even. Six months ago, when Piper first started working at The Landin Fine Art Gallery, she’d considered it a huge blessing to be able to learn from the celebrated owner, Deidre Landin, who was well-connected in the art world. Deidre had been impressed with Piper’s photographs, saying that she saw loads of potential. Deidre assured Piper that if she worked hard and proved herself that Deidre would help Piper get discovered. Deidre had allowed Piper to put a couple of her photographs in the gallery, but they were hanging on a rack in the back, getting hardly any attention. The only thing that kept Piper holding on was Deidre’s assurance that she would hold a reception after the first of the year, introducing Piper’s photographs.
“I expected more from you.” Disgust coated Deidre’s voice.
Piper felt a burst of adrenaline when she found the note stuck against the back of a catalogue. “Here it is! The note you left me.” She held up the pink square of evidence. “Let me just check these numbers against the ones in the order.” Placing the note beside her keyboard, she began typing. Swift feelings of exultation ran through her. “Here are the prints I ordered. They match the item numbers you wrote down.” It was all Piper could do to keep her expression impassive. She turned the screen so that Deidre could see it.
A furrow dented the strip of skin in between Deidre’s sculpted brows. “That can’t be right. Let me see that note,” she said brusquely.
Piper handed it to her, her insides swelling with victory. Would Deidre actually admit that she was wrong? Probably not, but at least she would realize that Piper wasn’t to blame for the mishap.
Deidre pointed. “Ah, ha! Here’s the problem. I wrote down Summer Sunrise, prints I & II. The ones you ordered are called Daybreak.”
Was Deidre seriously going there? Piper’s words rushed out. “That’s because the item numbers you wrote down were for the Daybreak prints.”
Deidre drew herself up, giving Piper a scathing look. “You should have caught the discrepancy.”
Piper’s spine stiffened. “And you should’ve gotten the titles correct, so as to avoid confusion.” The air gathered tension as the two women eyed one another like gladiators about to face off. Yes, Piper wanted this opportunity, but she was tired of cowing to Deidre.
Something hard and impenetrable flashed in Deidre’s eyes, evidence of one who’d been bred to get her way. “I beg your pardon. Are you questioning me?”
Think of the long term … your goals! “No.” Piper swallowed the tightness in her throat. “I’m only saying that I can see how I could’ve made the mistake.”
Deidre’s hand went to her hip, a snarky smile twisting over her lips. “So, you’re admitting that this is your mistake.”
An invisible noose tightened around Piper’s neck as she clutched her throat. “I acknowledge that I should have noticed the discrepancy between the titles and the item numbers. However, if you had gotten the titles correct to begin with—”
Deidre held up her hand. “It doesn’t matter whose mistake this is. What matters is that we solve the problem.”
Piper had to fight the urge to laugh out loud. Cruella De Vil was changing her tune now that she realized she was partly to blame for the mix-up.
“In the future, I expect you to come to me if you have any questions about an order, especially one so important.” She gave Piper a steely look. “Is that understood?”
A scene flashed through Piper’s mind—her springing to her feet and slapping that superior look off Deidre Landin’s face.
“Is that understood?” Deidre asked again.
“Yes,” was all Piper said. The urge to tell Deidre off was so strong that Piper could scarcely contain it. Think of your photography, the voice in her head screamed. Before coming to work for Deidre, Piper had spent two long years trying to get a foothold into the art world. The fact that she had two of her photographs in one of the most prestigious galleries in Park City, Utah was huge. Never mind that the photos were buried in the back. Come the first of the year, Piper’s work would be featured in this very gallery. Deidre had to know that if she didn’t make good on her word then Piper would quit. And, Deidre didn’t want that to happen. Piper worked her butt off, turning herself inside out to meet Deidre’s often unreasonable demands.
“Call Mac Wilbrook. Apologize profusely. Tell him that we’ll order the right prints and have them shipped right away. If he wants to keep the ones he has, we’ll sell them to him at a sixty percent discount. Then, call a florist and have a bouquet of roses sent to the Wilbrooks, congratulating them on their anniversary.”
Piper nodded, jotting down the instructions.
Deidre glanced around the empty gallery. “Where’s Scotty?” The gallery had only been open twenty minutes and there hadn’t yet been any customers.
“In the back, taking care of the new shipment that arrived this morning.”
Deidre brightened. “The Rutledge Collection?”
“Yes, I believe
so.”
“At least one thing has gone right this morning. Make sure to get all of the inventory logged into the system. We won’t put any of it out until after Nolan’s reception. How are things going with that?” Her words came out in short thrusts as she enunciated every word. “I don’t have to tell you how important this is. We can’t afford any more mistakes.”
Piper raised her eyebrow. “Got it,” she snipped, “so long as my instructions are clear.” It gave her a slight feeling of vindication when she saw the hardening of Deidre’s eyes. Piper’s dad was always saying that, You teach people how to treat you. It was good that Deidre realized that Piper was frustrated. She was dang frustrated, as a matter of fact! Yes, she wanted the opportunity that Deidre could give her, but she didn’t want to be the woman’s doormat.
“Did you contact the caterer?” Deidre snipped.
“Yes.” Several times. “They’ve assured me that everything is set.” Sheesh. It was only Tuesday and Deidre was already obsessing over the details for the reception taking place this Friday, the day before Christmas Eve. Piper let out a long sigh. It was bound to be a long week.
“I want everything to be perfect for Nolan.” Deidre’s voice went soft and gooey the way it always did when she spoke of Nolan Vant.
Piper fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I’m sure it will be.”
“It had better be,” Deidre snapped.
The reception was for Nolan Vant, the elusive photographer whose fame and fortune spanned the globe. Eighty percent of all sales at the gallery came from Nolan Vant’s photographs. Nolan was Deidre’s boyfriend. She’d been raving about him for weeks. It would be nice to finally meet the man. Of course, Piper doubted that the real man could live up to the lofty picture Deidre had painted of him.
He certainly wasn’t much to look at. The only photo Piper had seen of Vant was taken when he was out on location. It was a side-shot, obviously a candid. Vant was wearing sunglasses and had a rather obnoxious-looking beard. Not the sort of man Piper would have pictured with glamour girl Deidre Landin. Then again, Vant’s tremendous success could make up for any lacking physical traits.
When putting together the promotional materials for the reception, Piper asked Deidre if there was a better photo of Vant they could use. Deidre had laughed, saying that Nolan hated publicity and preferred to remain behind the camera. “I had to twist Nolan’s arm to even get him to agree to this reception,” Deidre said. “It’s the first time in who knows how long that Nolan has made a public appearance, and it’s happening right here in our humble gallery.”
There was nothing humble about Deidre or her gallery. Deidre came from old money. Her dad had helped her start the gallery. Deidre’s problem was that she was pampered and spoiled. Everything had come too easily for her. Piper’s gaze flickered over Deidre. As usual, she was the picture of perfection … like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Her long, platinum hair that gleamed like water was owed to expensive hair products and the adept hand of a highly sought-after stylist who knew how to do highlights. Deidre was dressed in a winter white coat and matching pants, a Prada bag slung over her arm. She removed her sunglasses from her head.
“Here’s your mail.” Piper handed her a stack of envelopes.
Deidre glanced down, sifting through the envelopes in her hands. “I’m working a few hours in the office before heading to the airport to pick up Nolan.”
That was great news! Hopefully, Deidre would be so preoccupied with her boyfriend that she would stay out of Piper’s hair. Piper kept her voice casual as she asked, “Nolan’s coming in today? I assumed that he’d get here on Thursday.”
Deidre’s expression softened. “He’s coming in early so we can spend time together.”
“Will you be bringing him by the gallery today?”
“Nope, I plan to keep Nolan all to myself the next few days.”
Piper bit back a smile. “Have fun.”
“I will,” Deidre sang as she strolled to the back, her heels clopping with every step.
This time, Piper gave herself the pleasure of rolling her eyes. Deidre was a piece of work! Nothing like the kind, considerate boss she’d appeared to be when Piper first took the job.
The bell over the door rang, signaling the arrival of a man and woman—the first customers of the day. Piper stood, a professional smile curving her lips. “Good morning,” she said warmly. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“Just browsing,” the woman said with a hint of dismissal. Piper got it. People wanted to look around without being hounded by a sales associate. “If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask,” she said cordially.
“Thanks,” the man replied, his expression a touch apologetic as if to make up for the terseness of his wife.
A little before noon, Scotty emerged from the back. “The cases are all unpacked,” he announced, stepping up to the reception desk and handing Piper the packing slips.
Aside from Deidre, Piper and Scotty were the only full-time employees at the gallery. Another woman, Gail Finley, worked part-time to help fill in when needed. “So,” Scotty began, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “It sounds like the witch was on her broom this morning.”
Piper made a face as she glanced furtively toward the back area where Deidre’s office was located. She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Did you hear her? She accused me of mixing up an order, when the bulk of it was her fault.” Anger rushed back with a vengeance, souring her mouth.
He shook his head. “Sounds about right. Did I hear correctly? Is she leaving soon?”
“Yes,” Piper whispered conspiratorially, “to pick up Nolan Vant from the airport.”
Scotty clucked his tongue as he shook his head. “Poor, miserable chap. I wouldn’t wish that wazzock on a snake.”
A giggle rose in Piper’s throat as she put her hand to her mouth to stifle it. “Wazzock. That’s a new one.”
“It means idiot.”
“You’re terrible,” she said appraisingly, feeling vindicated that she wasn’t the only one who had a hard time with Deidre.
Scotty flashed a cheeky grin that revealed deep dimples as he began singing along to the tune of Jingle Bells playing in the background, “The witch is gone, the witch is gone, the witch is gone all day. Oh, what fun we’ll have today, as long as the witch stays gone.”
“Shh,” she hissed. “She’s not gone yet.”
From England, Scotty was a combination of handsome and cute in a Hugh Jackman meets Adam Sandler sort of way, but there were no sparks. In Piper’s eyes, he was just a friend.
“So, love, after the witch is gone, maybe we should swing by the chocolate shop, and then grab lunch.”
Piper was amused. “You mean swing by and grab Cori, and then we can get lunch?” It was cute to see the color that stained Scotty’s cheeks. Yep, just as she suspected, Scotty had a thing for Piper’s roommate and best friend Cori who worked at the chocolate and gift shop a few doors down. Piper threw Scotty a perceptive look. “You know, you could just ask Cori on a date.”
Scotty laughed, his face turning redder. “I’m working my way around to it.” He winked. “Just give me time.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t say a word to her about my … err … intentions.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Piper made a zipping motion over her lips. Cori and Scotty would make a great couple. Cori needed to find a guy who was down-to-earth as opposed to her normal pretty-boy, model types. “Word to the wise. You’d better act fast before another guy steps into the picture.” Cori had recently split up with her boyfriend. With her vivid red hair, lively green eyes, and bubbly personality, Cori had a string of guys wanting to go out with her.
Scotty’s eyes widened. “Yikes! I thought she’d at least wait a few days before finding a replacement for …”
“Axle,” Piper supplied.
His eyes rounded. “Axle? What was he? The starring character in an action movie?”
Sh
e laughed. “Oh, no. Axle’s too pretty to be an action star. He’s more of the runway model type.” She pursed her lips, posing.
He straightened to his full height, pushing out his chest. “Cori needs a real man … not some glass ornament type who can’t move for fear of getting broken.”
“I hear ya. Just don’t let any grass grow under your feet.” She pumped her fist. “I’m pulling for you, man.”
“Good to know,” he said with a cheeky grin.
The speaker clicked. The music was replaced by Deidre’s voice. “I got Nolan’s flight information and am surprising him at the airport.”
“You go get him, girl,” a woman said.
Deidre’s throaty laughter bounced around the cavernous space. “I can’t wait to get Nolan all to myself. No more camera crews or people around. Just me and him.”
Piper and Scotty looked at one another, fighting laughter. The music for the gallery was controlled from Deidre’s office. She must have hit something and was unaware that her phone conversation had overtaken the music and was being broadcast to the entire gallery.
Scotty sat down on the edge of the desk, propping his leg up as he folded his arms over his chest. “No wonder the poor chap travels the world taking photos. It’s to escape her clutches.” He jutted a thumb toward Deidre’s office.
Piper sniggered. “Probably.”
“You’ve got this,” the other woman purred in a cultured tone that reeked of wealth. “Maybe Nolan’s coming into town to propose.”
Pleased laughter rumbled in Deidre’s throat. “You never know,” she said coyly.
The woman’s voice shot up several octaves. “Girl, you’ve been holding out on me. You’ll be the toast of the town. A gallery owner joining forces with Nolan Vant. You’ll be unstoppable.”
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