by Susan Hatler
“Here you go, lovely lady.” Brody set a tall glass, filled with a bright blue liquid over ice, in front of me. “I hope this soothes your soul. Bottoms up.”
Before I could think of a witty response he stepped away, attending to another patron’s need for alcohol. I took a sip of my drink and gasped. Definitely strong, sweet, and tasted like something I couldn’t place . . . maybe a blue raspberry snow cone with a kick. Oh yeah, the Blue Moon Breeze was delish. I drank a little more.
“Hey, girl. Sorry I’m late,” Wendy said, suddenly materializing out of thin air. She slipped onto the bar stool beside me and hung her purse on the hook beneath the bar top.
“You’re only late by two minutes,” I said, glancing at my phone. Then my gaze unintentionally wandered back to Brody, who smiled at the couple he served. H-O-T. His head turned suddenly and our gazes locked. My cheeks heated and I whipped my head to Wendy, embarrassed that I’d been caught staring at him.
Wendy smiled. “Checking out the new bartender, huh?”
“No,” I lied, taking a gulp of my delicious drink.
“Glad to see you’ve gotten over Hunter while I’ve been away.” She laughed, leaning over to give me a hug. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“You were only in Japan for three weeks,” I said, but I’d missed her too. She’d moved back to Blue Moon Bay when she inherited her grandma’s quirky inn on the water and it felt good to be reconnected with her again. “I can’t wait to hear all about the trip—”
“Hang on.” She held her hand up. “I’ve been hearing about some interesting new developments with your business.”
“Who told you?” I raised my brows, figuring it had to be Megan, since Wendy had lost touch with Charlie as well. “And what exactly did you hear?”
“I see you’ve been joined by a new friend.” Brody’s smooth male voice came out of nowhere, wrapping around my shoulders like a silk scarf.
Ignoring the butterflies in my belly, I glanced up to find deep blue eyes peering back at me. “Yes, this is Wendy.” I gestured toward her, noticing that he gave her a polite smile but then promptly turned his gaze back to me. “Wendy, this is Brody Mitchell, who recently started working here for complicated reasons.”
He chuckled, crinkles forming on either side of his eyes. “Truer words have never been spoken.”
“Nice to meet you.” She glanced from Brody to me, then back to him again. “I have the feeling I’m missing part of an earlier conversation.”
He opened his mouth to answer—
“It’s a long story,” I cut him off, pretending I wasn’t dying to know what his story was. “I think it’s best we just leave it at that.”
Wendy gave me an odd look. “Okay . . .”
“Olivia’s a smart woman,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching before he turned to Wendy. “What can I get you to drink?”
She raised her shoulder. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”
He nodded, giving me a quick smirk. “Blue Moon Breeze coming right up.”
As soon as he turned away, she leaned toward me and whispered, “You’re flirting with the bartender, which I find odd since Megan says you’ve rented a mansion on the bluffs to bond with a group of man-hating women.”
“Shh!” I flared my eyes because she needed to keep her voice down with Brody still in the vicinity. “No one hates men. It’s a professional women’s retreat.”
“Are you doing this retreat because of what happened with Hunter? You can’t let one bad break-up take you out of the game.” She gave me a look then glanced at Brody who was working the shaker like nobody’s business. “Or . . . did this guy ask you out?”
My stomach fluttered at the thought. “No and no.”
She nudged her shoulder against mine. “What’s going on then?”
“Keep your voice down,” I said, glancing over at Brody again to make sure he hadn’t overheard us. As if on cue, he returned and set down Wendy’s blue drink. Giving me a quick smile, he moved down the bar to help another patron. Once he seemed out of earshot, I turned to Wendy. “I did rent a mansion on the bluffs, because I’m running an event there for Greta von Strand.”
“The author?” Wendy’s jaw dropped open as she stared at me. “Greta von Strand has been on every major talk show since her book hit the bestseller lists. Even I have a digital copy of her book on my e-reader. Not that I’ve read it.”
“I keep the hardback on my nightstand as a guide,” I said, leaving out the fact that I also had digital copies on my e-reader and phone. “Greta hired me to run a two-week retreat we’re calling The Date Escape, a luxury women’s retreat that’s basically Men: Who Needs Them? come to life. Eight women paid a premium to attend and I hired Janine to help me out.”
Wendy choked on her sip and put a hand to her chest. “My former assistant, Janine? Who just became a Realtor? How can you afford that?”
“Greta’s paying me well and Janine really needed the extra money since she’s still building up clients.” I took a sip of my drink and stole a quick glance at Brody who was pouring beer from the tap. The muscles in his arms were well defined. I imagined running my hands over them. Mind out of the gutter, Olivia! My single lady’s drink was so not working. “Anyway, the retreat’s all about bonding and sisterhood and having fun as a fabulous single woman. Janine and I are working the event, but we’re both looking forward to the retreat on a personal level, too.”
She took a long swig from her glass. “That’s generous that you’ve offered Janine a job, but you know you need that money. What if Chutney breaks down again?”
I’d be totally hosed. Sigh. “Women need to stick together. That’s even in Greta’s book.”
“I can’t believe you corrupted my assistant,” she said under her breath.
“Former assistant. And being strong, independent women doesn’t make us man-haters. Greta’s book teaches about empowerment. About . . . how you don’t need a man to be a complete person.”
She gave a wry smile, then touched my hand. “Oh, is that why you can’t keep your eyes off the bartender? You think he’s hot. Admit it.”
I swatted her hand. “Whether or not he’s hot is irrelevant. If this retreat goes well, my business will take off. Greta has so many connections that I’d be flush with clients forever. And then I could finally stop working at The Market,” I said, doing a little dance in my seat then holding my hand up for a high-five. “This is a big step for me. I’ve been scared to move forward with my life, afraid I’d fail, but now I have a real chance at success.”
“In all seriousness, I’m proud of you.” She smacked my hand. “Now tell me more about this retreat. Do you chant around the fire and burn gifts your ex-boyfriends gave you?”
“You’re hilarious,” I said, but couldn’t help laughing. “The retreat will mimic the sections of Greta’s book. One, focus on our independence from men. Two, focus on ourselves. And third, focus on friendships. In addition to Greta’s lectures, I’ve planned fun activities to go with our lessons. We’re going to a day spa, chartering a boat to go fishing, going horseback riding on a ranch, and learning to change a tire on a car. Should be incredible.”
Wendy wrinkled her nose. “I’d be down for the day spa. But fishing and mechanic work? I’d rather hire out.”
“I think all of the activities are great,” I said, defensively. The truth was that catching a fish or changing a tire didn’t thrill me. But how independent would I look to admit that? Not so much. “Greta wants all of her guests to learn to be self-sufficient. Just because it’s nice to have a man in your life, that doesn’t mean you have to rely on one.”
“If you say so,” Wendy said drily. “Now should we get something to eat?”
“Sure,” I said, watching her wave Brody over. I sighed because the second he came near I’d want to start talking to him. I lowered my head and stared at the floating ice cubes, reminding myself to concentrate on my business only right now.
“
Hey, what can I do for you ladies?”
My head snapped up as he stopped in front of us.
“Could we get some menus?” Wendy asked. Brody pulled two leather-bound menus from beneath the counter and set them on the bar. Then she tossed me a smirk. “I’ll be right back. Just need to run to the ladies’ room.”
I flinched as she disappeared, then glanced up to see Brody’s ocean-blue eyes boring into mine. I gave him a wry grin and shrugged. “She has an ironic sense of timing.”
“I think she’s perceptive,” he said.
“How so?”
He leaned down, resting his forearms against the bar so we were eye level. “Well, the way I see it, she’s giving us a little alone time together.” His gaze held an intensity that made my heart pound against my ribs. “You know, it’s really too bad you’re focusing on your career right now.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? Most people applaud my focus.”
“Well, I mean, if you weren’t so focused on your career, I’d be asking you out,” he said, the corner of his mouth hitching up on one side.
My stomach flooded with butterflies. I managed to return his smile. “Oh. Um . . . yeah, I . . . well, thank you. Truth is, if you asked me out . . . I’d be tempted to accept. But I need to concentrate on building my business right now.”
“Nothing I can do to change your mind?”
Keep staring at me with those amazing blue eyes of yours, I thought, then mentally kicked myself. But I was tempted to say yes. So very tempted. Hunter had done me wrong but that didn’t mean other men would, too. Unfortunately, I needed to learn from Greta how to be on my own two feet before I opened myself up for another possible heartbreak. So, I shook my head. “No, sorry.”
“Maybe I’ll see you around the bar here from time to time?”
“Probably not,” I said, reluctantly, still feeling tempted.
“My loss then.” He gave me another smile, but this one had lost the light that had been in his eyes. I tried to ignore the pang in my belly, and was thankful when Wendy slid back into the seat beside me.
She glanced from me to Brody’s retreating figure. “What’d I miss?” she asked.
The question should’ve been what was I missing by refusing to date Brody? Ah, well. Just bad timing, I supposed. I gave my friend an overly bright smile. “Nothing. Now, let’s order some food. And you can tell me all about your trip to Japan.”
Chapter Two
Wendy’s white Mercedes SUV that she’d been gracious enough to loan me drove like a dream. Such a contrast to my dear Chutney. The thought reminded me of Charlie, and a mix of nostalgia and nerves flooded me. I had to wonder what it would be like when I saw her again. Would she be sweet and recall all of our childhood memories, or would she be stuck up? I mean, she’d married the world’s sexiest rock star, and I’d just stayed around in Blue Moon Bay, working my tail off.
As I pulled to a stop in front of the massive Spanish Colonial mansion that overlooked Blue Moon Bay, I killed the engine and the thoughts of Charlie. Time to focus on creating my career. I sent a plea to the universe to help me nail this retreat. If I could impress Greta, then I’d be more than just a woman who smelled like fish and got dumped by the perfect man. More than the butt of all of Piper Lewis’s jokes.
With determination to make this event perfect, I grabbed my folder with the retreat’s itineraries and guest information. My stomach roiled, but I reminded myself I’d done a full rehearsal yesterday. I’d even practiced my greeting for when the eight women arrived. Deep breaths, Olivia.
The mansion’s arched wooden front door opened as I stepped out of the car. Janine hurried over to me, wearing a huge smile. Her blond hair was pulled neatly back into a bun and she wore a red business suit with a white silk blouse. Very professional. She may be costing more than I could afford but a little tension eased out of me, knowing she had my back for the next two weeks. “Hi, Janine. I’m glad you’re here right on time,” I said.
“Hi, Olivia,” she said, her voice high-pitched and enthusiastic. “I’m so excited about this retreat. I arrived early actually and made sure everything was spotless. Check!” She made a mark in the air with her finger.
“Ah, a woman after my own heart,” I said, thinking she’d love my triple check method. I’d never had an assistant before, so I had no idea how to treat an employee. I gave her a handshake and received an awkward look in return. Should I have given her a hug? I rubbed my sweaty palms against the front of my skirt, hoping she didn’t notice how insanely nervous I felt, then hurried to the trunk to retrieve my luggage. “Greta is a bestselling author and she told me she’s accustomed to top quality. She expects nothing less for our guests.” I lugged the wheeled bag to the ground and pulled out the handle. “I have a feeling she’s going to be tough to please, but if we work together we shouldn’t have any problems.”
“Don’t worry.” Janine grabbed one of my suitcases and rolled the canvas bag up the walkway. “I’ve dealt with many high-maintenance clients in the real estate world. I’m sure Wendy’s told you I had a meltdown once. Okay, twice.” She held a hand up, pausing for a moment before she started walking again. “But I’ve been working with my psychologist on maintaining my calm, so it’s not going to happen again.”
My eyes widened and I suddenly remembered Wendy’s odd reaction when I told her Janine was going to be my assistant. “Um, Wendy never mentioned anything.”
Her mouth puckered as if she’d eaten a sour lemon. “Oh, never mind then.”
“Okay . . .” The pressure in my chest hitched, but there was no time for distress when the guests would be here shortly. I just had to hope Janine’s shrink had nipped her freak-out problem in the bud. With shaky hands, I set the folder on the entryway table and shrugged out of my cropped leather jacket.
I inhaled deeply, checking myself in the mirror above the antique table. The peacock-blue top I wore made my blue eyes stand out, and my long red hair rested over one shoulder. I’d hated my hair until a friend of mine from The Market went to beauty school. She charged me practically nothing to color my hair a fiery red with gold highlights, and she’d also taught me how to use a straightener. Under my critical stare, I knew I looked professional. I had to hope Greta agreed.
“You look fantastic.” Janine said.
“Thanks.” I swiveled to face her, feeling slightly more secure. But in the back of my head, I could still hear Piper Lewis’s words: Don’t you want a more promising career than The Market? My spine straightened. “When the guests arrive, we’ll show them to their rooms. Greta gets the master bedroom suite, and I’ve assigned a pair of women to share each of the guest rooms on the upper level.”
“Perfect!” She followed me toward the kitchen. “Sharing a room will foster bonding, which is one main focus of the retreat.” She placed her hand on my forearm. “I read your itinerary many times last night and practically have it memorized.”
“Wonderful.” We stepped into the kitchen and I triple checked everything. The island had already been arranged with the afternoon’s refreshments. We had the meals catered, and the refrigerator stocked with snacks and such. After a quick perusal of the spread, I breathed a sigh of relief and stared out the window to the empty shoreline. “I’ll be in the room down the hall. You’ll have the one next to mine.”
“Uh. . . Won’t we be sharing a room?” Janine asked, catching me off guard. She sounded so keen to be participating in this whole event. “That way we’d receive the full effect of the retreat in addition to working, just like you mentioned on the phone.”
“Oh, we can . . . ” I’d been looking forward to having some time to myself, since being on call twenty-four hours a day for the next two weeks felt daunting. Plus, Janine’s high energy was already wearing me out. Her brown eyes rounded and I would’ve felt bad saying no. “Yes, let’s definitely share a room. The one at the end of the hall has two double beds. Let’s put our bags in there so they’re out of the way when Greta arrives.”
> “I’ll take your suitcase.” Janine clapped her hands, then snatched away my bag before I could say anything. I watched as she disappeared down the hall. She seemed like a really sweet girl, but her previous word kept circling my brain: meltdown.
I couldn’t afford a meltdown from anyone. I checked my cell. No messages from Greta or any of the guests. That was good since they’d be arriving at any moment. When Janine came back to the kitchen, I gestured to the island. “So, the first thing we’ll offer the ladies once they arrive is a light snack and a mango mimosa. Greta ordered the mimosas specifically, so they must be her favorite. After everyone unpacks, we’ll have a barbeque on the back terrace, then a volleyball match down on the private beach. We’ll make a bonfire once the sun goes down. Sounds good?”
“This sounds a lot like summer camp,” Janine said, then glanced around at the high ceilings, and expensive furnishings. She laughed. “But slightly more elegant.”
I nodded, thinking how ironic it was that I was flat broke yet staying in a mansion and talking to my assistant. Suddenly there was a high-pitched squeal of tires outside the front door. “Someone’s here. Are you ready?”
Janine nodded, her eyes slightly wide as she followed me to the front door. My chest tightened and I tried not to think about the possibility of working my entire life at The Market if I blew this retreat. No, I couldn’t think that way. I was about to meet Greta von Strand, author of Men: Who Needs Them?, and the woman I most wanted to be like.
I walked outside in time to see Greta hop out of a shiny red Porsche convertible. She slipped her large black sunglasses off and then pushed them up, resting them on top of her head. Her dark hair fell in a bob, framing her delicate face. She couldn’t be more than five-foot three, but she radiated power and confidence.
“Welcome, Greta,” I said, feeling in awe just being in her presence.
“Olivia Lane.” She used a tone as if we were the best of friends. “So wonderful to see you, darling,” she planted a kiss on both of my cheeks then pulled back and smiled radiantly. “I assume everything is set for the ladies’ arrival?”