by Debbie Mason
Dana offered Ava a tentative smile then looked at Sophie. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
Sophie prayed the stone walls had provided a sound barrier against her cousin’s vitriol. “Not at all.” She gestured to the boards with swatches of fabric on them and a file folder in Dana’s elegant hands. “Looks like you’ve been busy. Sorry I had to postpone our meeting. Sit down. I’m anxious to see what you’ve come up with. Dana’s agreed to take on the role as event planner. She’ll be helping to coordinate Michael and Bethany’s wedding,” she explained to her cousin.
“Ah, I see. Well, if you don’t need me, I’ll—”
“If we’re going to pull off this wedding, I don’t just need you. I desperately need you. Helga can’t handle this without your help, Ava.”
Dana looked relieved. “I’m so glad you brought that up, Sophie. I didn’t know how to approach you about Helga. Lately my meals have been so bad, I’ve been going into town to eat. Sorry, I know that’s not what you need to hear right now.”
“It’s exactly what I need to hear, and why I want Ava to take over the restaurant.”
“Helga chased me out of the kitchen with a butcher knife the morning the Widow’s Club met here. I’m the last person she wants in her kitchen.”
“I’d wondered where you were. You should have come to me.” The old Ava wouldn’t have needed Sophie to defend her. Sophie would have ended up having to protect Helga instead. “Or maybe you should have yelled at her like you just did me,” she said, secretly pleased when her cousin shot her a narrow-eyed look.
“I wasn’t yelling at you.”
Since they both knew she had, Sophie ignored her. “I’ll talk to Kitty and Jasper. They should be able to make Helga see reason. Between us, though, I’m hoping she’ll retire. Because what I’d really like to do is have someone lease the dining room.”
“Sophie, I’ve seen that look in your eyes before. Do not aim it at me. I can’t do it. I can’t take over the restaurant.”
“If it makes you feel better, Ava, I didn’t think I could do this either.” Dana held up the swatches and files. “But I’ve enjoyed it more than I’ve enjoyed anything in a long time. And the meal you and your cousin prepared for the reception was fantastic.”
“Grazie. But even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I have my father to care for.”
“We can talk about it at another time. Right now, my sole focus is this wedding. We need it to be fabulous, a wedding that gets future brides dreaming of holding theirs here. I have a list of wedding planners on the East Coast that I’ll be reaching out to early next week. So the food for Michael and Bethany’s wedding has to be amazing. Which means, unless we outsource, which will cut into our profits, I need you, Ava. Not tomorrow, today. We have to design a menu. I have a feeling Bethany will require several tastings before making a decision.”
“I wouldn’t know the first thing about designing a menu for—”
“You don’t have to. All you have to do is cook.” Dana pulled some papers from her file folder and handed them to Ava. While her cousin perused the menus, Dana continued. “I’ve already dropped off three alternate designs for the wedding cake to Truly Scrumptious. They’ve promised to have a quote to us by tomorrow. The tasting samples will be ready for your meeting Saturday morning, Sophie. In Bloom will have quotes for the floral arrangements to you by then too. And so will Tie the Knot. The owner, Arianna Summers, is a designer. Her line of bridal gowns is fabulous, and she also carries bridesmaid dresses and tuxes. I’m sure Bethany’s ordered hers months ago, but Arianna’s sisters design one-of-a-kind invitations, programs, and guest books. Their wedding favors are super cute and unique too.”
Sophie stared at the woman, stunned. “I never expected you to have done so much in such a short time, Dana. You’re amazing.”
“Thank you, but I can’t take all the credit. You wouldn’t believe how excited everyone is. They made my job easy. I was actually pretty shocked that I didn’t have to order online or make a trip to New York. The stores here are unbelievable. There’s this candy shop on Main Street—A Spoonful of Sugar—and they make the most adorable teaspoons coated in just about anything you can imagine. And they have these lollipops…” She released a self-conscious laugh. “Sorry, I’m getting a little carried away.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m as excited as you are. I forgot how much the town has to offer. I didn’t realize till now what this could mean for the local business owners. Especially…” An idea hit her. If they cut out the wedding planners and advertised directly to newly engaged couples, they could…
“Oh no, she’s got that look in her eyes again. Hurry up, Dana, and show us your ideas for Michael and Bethany before she turns Harmony Harbor into Wedding Town,” Ava said.
“Wedding Town.” Sophie nodded. “I like it. That would be the perfect way to market—” Ava cut her off with a groan. “Okay, you’re right. One thing at a time.” But the idea was definitely going on Sophie’s list.
Dana reached down and picked up the boards to place them on Sophie’s desk. “Here’s what I’ve come up with so far. I thought it would be best to have a few ideas for Bethany to choose from. If she isn’t happy with them, I’ll go back to the drawing board.”
“I don’t know how she couldn’t be. These are amazing. Are you sure we can pull them off?”
“Absolutely. All I need is their budget, and I’ll go from there.”
“This one is fabulous,” Sophie said, indicating the ice-blue-and-white theme. “But this one is my favorite.” She tapped the board with the red-and-gold theme.
Ava moved to the edge of her chair. “You’re very talented, Dana. All three are beautiful. Myself, I like the black and white.” She held up the sample menus. “I might make a couple of suggestions, but otherwise, I like how you coordinated the food to each theme.” Her cousin made a face at Sophie. “You think you’re so smart. This, I will do, because it’s good for Greystone. The other, non.”
Dana shared a smile with Sophie then said to Ava, “If you do decide to lease the space, I know exactly how to update it without a heavy outlay of cash and in a short turnaround time. I’d love to do it. I’d do it for free just to—”
“Pazzo. Now I have two crazy ladies to deal with.”
The phone on Sophie’s desk rang. “Greystone Manor, Sophie DiRossi speaking.”
“Hey, Sophie, it’s Michael.” She mouthed who it was to Dana and Ava.
“Hi, we were just talking about your wedding. I think you and Bethany will be pleased.”
“About that, we have to cancel again. Something’s come up, and we’re not going to make it next Saturday. Any chance you can fit us in around Thanksgiving? My mother and Bethany’s mother and grandmother want to be there. We figured we’d stay a couple nights and get everything nailed down then. Work for you?”
She widened her eyes at Ava and Dana. “Of course, we’ll make it work. I’m just a little concerned about the timeline. It’s cutting it close.”
“Bethany will be in touch with you today, and you can go over the colors and whatever else you need a decision on with her. That way, all we’ll have to do when we’re there is finalize last-minute details.”
“All right, that sounds”—she glanced at an incoming text, and then another, and another—“great. Just get back to me with dates and times and how many rooms you’d like booked.” She reached across the desk to hand her phone to Dana as two more texts came in.
Dana’s eyes widened. Ava leaned in to read over the redhead’s shoulder. “Pazzo. The woman is pazzo,” her cousin muttered.
“Will do. How did your meeting with Olive go?” Michael asked.
“Good.” She glanced at Ava and Dana, who were looking over the menus, talking quietly. “No more in-home visits to worry about. Liam tells me that’s thanks to you. I appreciate all your help with this, Michael.”
“Just gave Boy Wonder a few tips.” He cleared his throat. “From what Liam told me, I owe you an a
pology, Sophie. I was a grade-A asshole that summer. Even though it turns out I’m not your daughter’s father, I can’t say I would have behaved any better if you told me back then that I was. If it makes you feel better, I got what was coming to me. Karma’s a bitch, and she bit me good.”
“Sounds interesting. You know my deep, dark secret. Seems only fair you share yours. Does karma have a name?”
He gave a dry laugh. “You probably do deserve to know since she was the girl I was cheating on you with. Shay Angel.”
“It couldn’t have been Shay. She was arrested that summer for grand theft auto.”
“And that’s a story for another time. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks. And, Sophie, you and Mia got lucky. Liam is the best man I know. He’ll be an incredible father.”
“I’m sure he will be. Thanks again, Michael.” She disconnected, feeling like she’d closed a chapter on her past. Like the choices she’d made back then had been the right ones. Even if she’d made them for the wrong reasons, Michael’s validation was somewhat freeing.
She looked at the two women with their heads bent over Dana’s file. “Please tell me Bethany’s texts weren’t as bad as they looked at first glance.”
“Worse,” Dana and Ava said at almost the same time.
“That woman is going to be a nightmare to work with. She’s already sent five more texts that contradict the first ones. Oh, and her mother sent two, and so did Michael’s,” Dana said.
“She has a grandmother. Hopefully she doesn’t know how to text,” Sophie got out just before there was another ping from an incoming text.
“She does.” Dana sighed as the phone kept pinging.
“Okay. We’ll write them all down and see if there’s something we can work with to—” Sophie was interrupted by a knock on the study door.
Jasper peeked his head in. “Sorry to disturb you, miss, but you need to see this right away.” He walked in and handed her a copy of the Harmony Harbor Gazette. She stared at the front-page headline: BOSTON SOCIALITE BETHANY ADAMS IS HOLDING HER WEDDING HERE? Several unflattering photos of Greystone Manor accompanied the article. Sophie opened her mouth to curse out the publishers of the Gazette in Italian, and the lights went out.
Chapter Eighteen
Sophie was tired of taking on the chin whatever life had to throw at her. Every time she took one step forward, she took two steps back. Thanks to Byron and Poppy Harte, the publishers of the Harmony Harbor Gazette, and Greystone’s outdated circuit breaker box that needed to be replaced ASAP, those last two steps might as well have been made by a giant. From where she was standing, they seemed insurmountable.
Her cell phone pinged with an incoming text as she pulled into a parking space half a block from the Harmony Harbor Gazette. To add to her already craptastic day, it had started snowing on the drive there, and all she had on over her uniform of a white blouse and black skirt was her suit jacket, and no boots, just shoes.
She picked up her phone and was about to put it in her purse when it started to ring. She’d been forwarding Bethany’s texts to Dana without reading them. Well, at least no farther than the first line or two. So far there’d been no mention of the article in the Gazette. But given the state of Sophie’s luck these days, she didn’t count on that being the case for long. Hopefully by then, the Gazette will have printed the retraction Sophie planned to insist upon.
She glanced at her phone. It wasn’t Bethany.
“Hi, Mom. Do you mind if I call you back? I’m a little busy right now.” She’d spoken to her mother only once since she’d arrived in Harmony Harbor. Tina had wanted to make sure Sophie knew that she’d given a glowing report to her previous caseworker.
“This’ll just take a second. I’m on my way into my yoga class, and I can’t be late. Oh, did I tell you I’m teaching now?”
Sophie bowed her head and took a couple deep breaths before saying tightly, “No, you didn’t. Congratulations on the job.”
“Thanks, baby. I don’t have to work, you know. Larry takes such good care of me. But it’s just so much fun and, wink wink, it keeps me flexible, if you know what I mean.”
Her fifty-four-year-old mother had left her father and turned into an incense-burning, om-chanting, tantra-practicing nymphomaniac who thought her twenty-six-year-old daughter, who probably requalified as a virgin, was her best friend.
Thanks for asking, Mom. Your granddaughter and I are doing great. You remember Mia, right? The seven-year-old you thought was capable of babysitting herself. No, she’s still not talking. But guess what? She has a father. That’s right, Liam Gallagher, the boy I thought was God’s gift to womankind. Oh, and I got my dream job even without my degree. I’m managing Greystone Manor. Now if I can just keep it from falling apart around us, prevent the local newspaper from sabotaging the wedding of the century, and satisfy a woman who gives bridezillas everywhere a bad name, everything will be just peachy keen.
“Sophie, did you hear me?”
“Yes, I’m sure Larry’s thrilled by how flexible you are. I really have to—”
“You know it, girlfriend. That’s not what I was talking about, though. He wants to know when you’ll get the Cadillac back to him. You know how the man loves his babies. Wink, wink. How does a week sound?”
“I thought you said I could keep the car for as long as I needed it.”
“I was overwrought and feeling guilty—”
“Gee, you got over that pretty quick. Glad to hear it.”
“Thanks, baby, I knew you’d understand. I gotta get to my class. Larry has a big night planned. Text me the deets on where and when the car will arrive. Ciao, bella.”
Pow, another one right on the chin. And one more gigantic step back. But Sophie didn’t have time to worry about how she was going to get the car back to Larry and how much that would cost. She had to convince Byron and Poppy Harte to print a retraction or, better yet, do another piece on Greystone highlighting the manor’s history and the fabulous architectural features and views.
Sophie got out of the car and was about to lock the door when she thought back to her earlier conversation with Michael. She opened the door, put the keys back in the ignition then closed the driver’s door without locking it in hopes someone would steal the car and save her the trouble and cost of sending it back. She bowed her head against the biting wind coming off the harbor and slipped and slid the half block to the Gazette.
By the time she reached the white Colonial with its black door and shutters, she was shivering. Her skirt and jacket were molded to her body, her shoes soaked, and her hair plastered to her face. She swiped a finger under her eye to check for mascara. Surprise, surprise, her finger came away covered with it. She faced the wall, licked her fingers and rubbed them under her eyes and over her cheeks then pushed her hair from her face. Turning, she straightened and opened the door with a professional smile on her face. A pile of snow fell off the overhang and onto her head.
“Say cheese,” a man said with a smirk in his voice.
Sophie shook off the snow in time to see the flash go off. When her vision cleared, she noted the man at a desk with his feet up and a camera in his hand. His blond hair was slicked back from his angular face. He had a Hollywood tan and movie-star teeth. “If it isn’t Sophie DiRossi, Greystone’s esteemed manager.”
Sophie assumed he must be Byron. She didn’t know the Harte grandchildren well. They only spent summers with their grandmother and were older than Sophie.
“Byron, I told you snow was building up on the roof.” A tall, attractive blonde hurried over to Sophie with a towel in her hand. “I’m so sorry. Are you all right? Please, come and sit down.”
“It’s just a little snow, Pop Tart. I doubt she’ll sue. You know what, on second thought, please do.”
“Just ignore him. Byron, go get Ms. DiRossi a coffee from Books and Beans, or do you prefer tea?”
“A coffee would be great, thanks. And it’s Sophie,” she said as she towel-dried her hair and took th
e seat Poppy pulled out for her.
“Any excuse to stop by and chat up the lovely Julia,” Byron said as he walked to the coat rack and grabbed a jacket and scarf.
His sister sighed when the door closed behind him. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse Byron. He just found out our brother’s latest book sold for millions at auction.” She made a face. “You’re probably here about today’s edition, aren’t you?”
“Yes, it’s not exactly a flattering piece about the manor. And, as you probably know, we need all the good publicity we can get.”
“I do, and believe me, I did everything in my power to talk them out of running it, but Hazel’s our landlord and Paige paid a premium for the front page. We need the revenue.”
“Wait a minute. You didn’t write the article?”
“No, Paige did, with some help from Byron, and she took the photos. The majority of people in town want Greystone to succeed, Sophie. It’s good for all of us if it does. But Paige has managed to convince Hazel, and a few other people, to back the condo development. They’re willing to do anything to make it happen.”
“So you won’t print a retraction?”
“I can’t. I fact-checked the article. There’s nothing she said that wasn’t true.”
“What if you wrote one from another angle? In the past the manor has hosted several high-profile weddings. You could do a feature—”
Poppy tapped her finger on her lips. “Why don’t we save that for the spring? I’m thinking more Christmas at the manor. We’ll do a big spread.”
“That would be great, but we need this wedding, and I’m afraid our bride-to-be will be second-guessing her choice of venue after reading the article.”
“I see what you mean. Okay, if you can get me names of couples who had winter weddings at the manor, I’ll interview them for a piece. I’ll come by and take some photos next week that will show the manor in the best possible light. But, Sophie, I stopped by after Mrs. Gallagher’s funeral and Greystone is looking more shabby than chic. There’s lots of tricks I can do with lighting and such, but it would help if you spruced it up a bit. Even decorating for the holidays would make a difference.”