by Jacie Floyd
“I should have known he’d have a spreadsheet.” Jillian laughed at Zach before turning to the two females. “I’m not great at wedding planning but tell me about the food. That’s something I do know about.”
“We’re using local people and products wherever we can, of course, but we’ve hired Mikhail Grajkowski from Chicago to cater the meals.”
Harper had floated the name out tentatively. “Do you know him?”
Jillian laughed. “By reputation only. I’ve heard he’s an excellent chef, but he’s a little high maintenance.”
The bride-to-be waved that criticism away. “That’s where my mother comes in. She hired him, she can handle him. She has a knack for talking anyone down from anything if she needs to.”
“And you’re paying him a fortune, so that should guarantee his cooperation,” Zach said.
“Not necessarily, but the promise of recommendations for events by Wex and India’s friends might keep him in line.”
“Where will the wedding be?” Jillian asked.
“At the library,” the other three said in unison.
“Fabulous idea. Who’s officiating?”
“The mayor.”
“Ooh, I love it, but aren’t the local clergy pushing back on that?”
“We invited all four of them to perform one section of the ceremony, and somehow they each think their part is the most important,” Harper explained.
“I may have inferred as much when I asked them,” Zach said. “I didn’t want there to be any squabbling or hard feelings. And Reverend Watkins declined to participate.”
“Because Liam’s in the wedding?”
“That wasn’t the stated reason, but it’s possible.”
“But they’ll miss a lovely event. And meal! Wait until you hear the menu,” Rachel said. “It may be less-than your regular fare, but it’s way fancy for Sunnyside.”
“You mean there won’t be pigs-in-a-blanket?” Jillian faked her shock. “Then what are you serving?”
“For the wedding? We’ll just have to make do with sea bass, vegetarian couscous salad, glazed carrots. Stuff like that.”
“Sounds yummy.” Challenging, but reasonably easy to prepare for a large group. Jillian doubted if the library had great kitchen accommodations.
Somewhere between the report on the food and the wedding favors, Sadie interrupted to take their orders. Zach stepped away to take a call from the hospital. After a lengthy description of the cake, Rachel changed the topic to the upcoming bachelorette party.
“It’ll be next week,” she told Jillian. “The Tuesday before Thanksgiving. Be sure to put it on your calendar.”
“The bachelorette party’s on a Tuesday?”
“There’s no school on Wednesday, so teachers and school-age parents won’t have to get up early that day.”
“Where is it?” Jillian asked.
“The Lucky Dog! Isn’t that a hoot?”
She couldn’t imagine the stylish Harper down at the local tavern. “Whose idea was that?”
“I don’t really remember,” Harper admitted, “but once we thought of it, it seemed perfect. Please say you’ll come. I want my mother to see that I actually have friends in this town.”
Jillian didn’t know Harper well enough to call her a “friend,” but the potential was there. “I’ll try, but I’m going to New York for a few days, and I’m not certain when I’ll be back.”
“I’ll call and text you reminders,” Rachel said. “If Harper wants you there, I won’t let you squirm out of it.”
Zach returned, and Lenore personally brought out their dinners. Partly, because the woman had always been partial Zach and Rachel. And partly to check on Jillian’s reaction to the pot pie. She rolled the first bite around inside her mouth, considering the flavors.
Finally, she gave in and groaned with delight. “This is delicious, Lenore. Did you make it?” The crust was flaky and delicate, and the filling had an unexpected burst of curry.
The woman grunted. “No, I got a new cook. He does okay.” High praise from the curmudgeonly Lenore.
“Excellent crust and seasonings.”
“I’d tell him, but he’d get a big head and start thinking he was too good to cook here.”
Jillian agreed with that sentiment. “Keeping good help is always a struggle.”
“He’s already pushing his luck by cooking somewhere on the side.”
“Somewhere in Sunnyside?”
“Out on the edge of town.” Lenore turned away with a huff.
“What was that about it?” Jillian asked Zach.
“The new cook works part-time for you, actually. At the Kitty Kat.” He laughed as her eyes bugged out. “His sister dances there, and he has a crush on one of the other strippers. You can imagine Lenore’s views on that.”
The never-ending overlaps and connections in Sunnyside had her frowning. “I don’t blame her. I’m unhappy about the place myself.”
Zach shrugged. “The food’s good.”
“Yes, it is.” Harper’s cheeks turned pink when Rachel and Jillian looked at her in surprise. “Liam cut his hand at the Old Barn one day. One of the desk clerks thought he should get stitches, but he wouldn’t go to the hospital, so she called Zach. We were on our way back from Springfield. By the time we got there, he’d gone over to The Kitty Kat. While Zach sewed Liam up, someone brought me a plate.” She looked around stealthily and lowered her voice. “Don’t tell Lenore I said so, but it was as good as the food is here. Maybe better.”
“Did you see any of the dancers, uhm, performing?” Rachel rattled the ice cubes in her glass instead of looking at her soon-to-be sister-in-law.
“I mean I couldn’t help but glimpse bits and pieces. Of the performances I mean, not the performers.”
Zach laughed. “You were mesmerized.”
“No, I wasn’t.” She ducked her head into his shoulder. “Or only a little. Nudity doesn’t bother me. I saw plenty of naked women when I traveled with my mom and sister to fashion shoots. But it’s much more provocative when they take their clothes off to music and strip for their customers. It’s like they take on completely different personalities. Now I can hardly look Betsy McDaniels in the eye when she brings her little boy in for story hour.”
Zach hugged her to him. “No need to be embarrassed, sweetheart. The human body is a beautiful thing.”
“Some more beautiful than others,” she muttered.
“I noticed that, too.”
Lifting her head, she poked him in the ribs. “Hey!”
“But yours is the most beautiful of them all.”
Zach and Harper’s attitude about the strip club set Jillian’s teeth on edge. She would’ve expected more enlightenment from them. “Really? You’re okay with the objectification and degradation of women?”
Scratching his head, he considered. “When you put it that way, no. But it’s not as simple as that. There are ordinary people, friends and neighbors, who need work. Zach’s done a fabulous job of getting that run-down old rattrap to a point where it looks good and makes money. He protects the girls and keeps everything on the up-and-up. And I don’t see anything wrong with stripping, if that’s how someone wants to make a living.”
“You think they want to make a living taking off their clothes while perverts stare at them with lewd and disgusting intentions?”
“Why judge them for doing what they have to do?”
“I’m not judging them.”
“Aren’t you?” a deep voice said from behind her.
Chills raced down her spine.
Jillian and the other three turned to look at Zach. Lounging against the counter, he shouldn’t have looked so desirable in work boots, dusty jeans and a flannel shirt. The beard scruff shadowing his jaw gave him the bad-boy look he’d cultivated long ago, but the hard look in his steely eyes bored straight through her. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of rich parents that provide us with everything we’ve ever wanted, princess.”
&nbs
p; Her dad had used the nickname as an endearment. Even Liam had used it as a caress from time to time, but just now, his insulting use of the nickname made her wince. “I don’t—”
With a wave of his hand, he cut her off. “Sometimes the choices the less-fortunate have to make come down to bad, terrible, and awful. If you ever get to that point, be sure to let the rest of the world know what elevating decision you make.”
“Liam, your carry-out order’s up.” Sadie’s voice boomed through the suddenly silent restaurant.
He turned his back on Jillian to pick up his food, but she recognized the gesture as a dismissal. Like she’d been in the wrong. Like she’d hurt his feelings or kicked his dog. Or let him down.
“Wait.” She stood and moved forward as he reached the door.
Ignoring her, he barreled on through.
Slamming the truck door closed behind him, Liam nudged Shelby into the back. Disgusted with himself, he tossed his carry-out bag on to the passenger seat and shook his head. He shouldn’t let Jillian get to him.
A tap on the window grabbed his attention. Expecting to find Zach ready to complain about his rude treatment of Jillian, his head jerked back in a double-take at finding his former girlfriend peering in. After clicking his seatbelt into place, he pushed the button to slide the window down.
Shelby stuck her head out and woofed at Jillian who obliged by rubbing behind the golden’s ears. “Hey, there, Shelby. There’s a good girl.” The big sweetie responded by resting her head on Liam’s shoulder and lolling her tongue out.
Letting his eyes feast on the woman who kept him awake at night, Liam clamped down on his anger and his desire. “What?”
She shivered in the cold and bit her lip, but he didn’t expect an apology. She’d said what she meant inside, even if she hadn’t meant for him to overhear her. “Something’s come up. I’m leaving for New York in the morning.” Her nipples visibly hardened beneath her light-weight sweater.
“Okay.” He had to look away, so he wouldn’t stare. Or salivate. On every level of his memory bank, he remembered their shape and texture. How they felt against his tongue. Beneath his fingertips. Oh, hell, yeah. Time to go.
“I have to reschedule our meeting.”
He sighed with relief when she stuffed her hands in her jeans pockets and hunched her shoulders against the chill. Okay. That was better. “When will you return?” Not that he cared.
“Next week, probably. Before Thanksgiving.”
“Will the boyfriend be with you?” He winced, wishing he’d cut out his tongue before asking that.
“Boyfriend?” Her eyes widened and then she chuckled. “Lance? I doubt it, but you never know.”
“Right. Well…” He shifted the truck into drive, beyond ready for the conversation to end. “Thanks for letting me know.”
Jillian placed one hand on the window ledge and stroked one of Shelby’s ears with the other. “I’d have called or texted, but I didn’t have your number. I was going to have Zach or Mick let you know, but then you walked in, so I…” Ceasing the babble, she crossed her arms over her midsection and rubbed her hands up and down her triceps.
“Followed me outside. I got that. Is that all?” Her sparkle had dimmed since the last time he’d seen her—was that last night? She’d sure been having a tough go of it the last few days. But that wasn’t his problem. She wasn’t his problem. As much as he craved wrapping himself around her and warming her up, he stayed in the truck with his dog.
“I would say I’d call you when I get back, but I still don’t have your number.”
He sighed and shifted the truck back into park. “Do you have your phone?”
“Inside. In my purse.”
He grabbed his phone from the cup holder and poised his finger over the screen. “What’s your number?” He punched in the digits as she rattled them off. “I’ll text you, so you can save the info to your contacts.”
“Thanks.” She hovered in place, feet not moving.
“What?” he asked again.
“Nothing. But…” Lights from the diner had her backlit, but he sensed her hesitation. “Something came up today. In New York. Did you see the news? I wondered if you have some thoughts or insights.”
What had he seen on the news? Same old, same old. His efforts to not follow the happenings in the city failed miserably most mornings. Looking over the Wall Street Journal and the New York Times online with a cup of coffee was too ingrained of a habit to break. Considering all the worse habits he’d been forced to set aside, his news fix seemed harmless enough. And today there had been some interesting articles about… What? Political crap. Corruption. General malfeasance. Greed. Some construction bigshot had gotten in over his head, playing fast and loose with his finances. “The Wyland construction company blow up? I saw that. Didn’t pay much attention to it.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Okay, no problem. I’ll see you next week.”
“What’s it got to do with you?”
“They have the contract for my restaurant.”
Oh, shit . “That’s not good.”
“I wondered if you knew anything about it or had any inside knowledge about them.”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t have inside information about anything anymore, honey, and one of the terms of my plea bargain is that I’m prohibited from having contact with anyone who does.”
Embarrassed, she ducked her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. With your understanding of finance, I thought you might know, in theory, what would happen next with my money.”
“Can’t help you.” The phone in his hand beeped and he checked the screen, eager for an excuse to end this conversation. Leah, again. A call he really did have to take. “Say goodbye to Shelby. We’ve got to go.” He shifted back into drive and checked over his shoulder for traffic. “Have a safe trip.”
With one last pat on the dog’s head, she slumped her shoulders and toed a pebble on the curb. “Thanks.”
“Go back inside,” he said. “It’s cold out here without a coat.”
She nodded and turned, looking lost and vulnerable. Had she ever had to handle a crisis in her life without her father’s support? He watched her from his rearview mirror. Things had taken a bad turn for the Sunnyside Princess. “But we don’t care about her problems, do we, Shel?”
The dog looked at him with her big brown eyes, laid her head on his knee and whimpered. Apparently, Shelby cared. And so did he, damn it.
A week later, Jillian pushed her way through the back door of her father’s house—her house, damn it! If she could ever remember to call it that—parked her rolling suitcase and dug around inside her purse for her ringing phone.
“Are you in Sunnyside or still in New York?” Rachel’s voice on the other end was several shades too perky for Jillian’s mood.
Tempted to lie as she remembered her promise to attend the bachelorette party, she discarded the idea and admitted the truth. “Just got back.”
“Great! Come to The Lucky Dog.”
After the complete and utter failure of her trip to New York, Jillian had hoped to come home, go straight to bed, and hide under the covers for about two weeks. The last thing she wanted to do was join a bunch of tipsy women laughing at absurdities. “I’m pretty tired. Could I just beg off instead?”
“Come for a while,” Rachel urged. “You need to eat, don’t you? And you should meet Harper’s famous mom and sister. You may see beautiful people like them in New York all the time, but it’s bound to be a rarity to see them outside their natural habitat.”
The offer of food offered was a giant incentive, but she doubted if she’d be great company. “Wouldn’t Harper rather just have her close friends? I’m almost a stranger to her.”
“It’s Sunnyside. How many close friends do you think she has? She asked you to come, remember?”
Socializing sounded like torture. But she’d need to eat to ward off the ferocious migraine hovering at the back of her skull. She didn’t feel like co
oking and poking around inside the refrigerator confirmed the lack of options. And maybe hanging around Dad’s house by herself wasn’t such a good idea either. “Will it be just the girls?”
“So far. Nathan, Jillian’s gay best friend from Chicago, might join us. He’s been invited to the bachelor and bachelorette parties, but he may come to ours, because we’re more fun”—she dropped her voice to a confidential tone—"and he kind of has a thing going with the bartender here.”
The Lucky Dog had a gay bartender? She wondered how that had gone over with the rednecks in town. “Then why would he prefer the guy’s party?”
“Well, Harper’s step-father is with the guys and he’s, you know, Wexley Wilde. So that’s pretty cool.”
“Harper’s step-father is Wexley Wilde? Wow. I think I still have my Wilde at Heart t-shirt from the concert Liam and I went to in Chicago senior year.” A famous rock star would be a big draw. “That settles it. I’m crashing the bachelor party.”
Rachel laughed. “It’s at the Kitty Kat Club and you own it, so they’d probably let you. But since Liam’s Zach’s best man, he’s sure to be there. If you’re still trying to avoid him, you’re better off with the girls.”
Was she still trying to avoid Liam? She couldn’t stop thinking about their kiss, his thoughtfulness of coming to check on her at the house, and the nice texts he’d sent her this past week with advice about the Wyland Construction fiasco. But probably best not to push it. She’d be seeing him soon enough at the meeting with Mick.
“I feel like I’m intruding though. I’m not even invited to the wedding.” Despite the fancy dress and shoes she’d brought back from New York just in case Zach insisted that she attend.
“You’re not intruding. Harper told me to call you. And you are invited to the wedding. Why do you think you’re not?”
“Uhm, I didn’t get an invitation?”
“They didn’t know you’d be in town.” Rachel spaced out the words like she was explaining things to a slow student. “Your dad was invited and he RSVPed. You should go in his place, so his absence doesn’t throw their dinner count off. For now, just come on down to The Lucky Dog, have some laughs, some food, some drinks, and you can decide about the wedding later.”
