by Ginny Baird
“You were my hero,” Jackie said. “You came to my rescue.”
“It was easy. I’d been helping you rehearse for weeks. I knew all the lines.”
“You stepped in that night in my place, and nobody was the wiser. Not even Mom.”
“It helped that you were better by the next…” Hope’s words trailed off when she got the parallel Jackie was making. “This is different, and you know it.”
“Yeah.” She blew her nose. “We probably couldn’t have pulled it off, anyway.”
Hope sighed, trying to imagine herself in Jackie’s shoes. What if Brent Albright really was Jackie’s Prince Charming? Shouldn’t Hope do everything in her power to support the marriage? Her sister’s luck in the man department hadn’t been much better than hers, and here was a guy who’d offered Jackie her very own happily ever after.
Loads of people had problem in-laws, but those in-laws becoming a problem before the wedding really wasn’t fair. She wanted to help her sister—she really did. But impersonating her twin wasn’t the right solution.
Then, Hope got a brilliant idea.
“Okay,” she said, deciding. “Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll go up to Maine a day early, but not as you—as me.”
“What good will that do?” Jackie asked weakly.
“I’ll explain that you’ve had an unavoidable delay and that I’m there to help with preparations in your place.”
Jackie thought a moment before answering. “I guess that could work.”
“Honesty’s the best policy.”
“Usually.”
“Always.” If the Albrights were so heartlessly unforgiving that they wouldn’t cut Jackie this tiny bit of slack for a business emergency, maybe Brent’s family wasn’t worth marrying into. She’d reserve judgment about the groom. People could choose their friends, not their families. “But, before I go, you’ll need to contact Brent to let him know there’s been a change in plans.”
“All right. I will.” Jackie heaved a breath. “And thanks, Hopie. You’re the best.”
She sounded exhausted, and she wasn’t the only one. Hope was drained by the conversation, too. And now, she had to pack.
She ended the call and swung her feet down off the hammock. Scratchy dry grass prickled the bottoms of her bare feet and poked up between her toes.
“Sounds like more than nervous-bride troubles to me,” Iris commented from beneath her broad straw hat.
“The wedding’s just hit a little wrinkle.” Hope stood, gathering her book and drink off the table. “But it will all get ironed out. I’m headed up to Blue Hill early to help.”
She smiled with more confidence than she felt, not knowing what kind of welcome she’d receive in Maine, but she was determined to give this her best try. She’d always been there for Jackie, and now wasn’t the time to let her down. Not when she was under so much stress.
Iris gave her a motherly smile. “Jackie’s lucky to have a sister like you.”
“Thanks, Iris. I’m lucky to have her, too.”
Hope walked toward her back door, and Iris cheerily brandished her garden shears.
“Well, safe travels! Good luck ironing everything out.”
…
Brent Albright sat on the patio of his grandparents’ Blue Hill home, watching the sky take on a purple-orange hue as the sun set over the deep blue water. His dad, Parker, relaxed in the Adirondack chair beside him, and a low fire crackled in the stone firepit nearby.
As many times as he’d been here, Brent never got tired of the view. The three-story white clapboard house had a covered wraparound porch facing the bay. Manicured bushes and fragrant flower gardens hedged its lush lawn.
When the tide was low, a private pebble beach rested at the bottom of the worn wooden steps leading down to the blackish sands. When it was high, like it was now, the beach was swallowed up by undulating waters.
Brent sipped his scotch, savoring its smoky warmth in the chill of the evening. Even in June, it got a lot cooler here at night.
“When is that bride of yours scheduled to arrive?” his dad asked above the low hum of crickets and the brisk evening breezes wafting off the water. His dad was in his late fifties now, with his shortly cropped hair graying at the temples. For eons, Brent had thought of his dad as ageless, but the years had finally begun to creep over his features.
“Sometime tomorrow afternoon.”
“Can’t wait to meet her.”
“She’s excited to meet you and Mom, too.”
Brent swirled the booze in his glass, wondering when his own excitement would kick in. When he and Jackie had made this bargain, it had seemed reasonable. Astute. Now, Brent worried that he’d been kidding himself.
His dad drained the rest of his glass and shot him a curious stare.
“You know I’m not one to go meddling in your business…” he began.
“No,” Brent said a tad more defensively than he intended. “That’s Grandmother’s job.”
His dad frowned. “She seems to think this hasty marriage has something to do with your taking over Albright Enterprises. Any truth to that?” he asked, tilting his tumbler with the question.
Though Grandpa Chad had made it clear he’d be more comfortable ceding control of his luxury hotel corporation to a married grandchild, he hadn’t specifically made this a condition of Brent assuming the reins.
Still, it had been obvious that Grandpa Chad viewed Brent’s older brother, William, as his next top choice should Brent continue what his grandfather had deemed his “reckless bachelor lifestyle.” William had always been more focused and settled, and it had been tough walking in his perfect shadow. Brent had taken longer to get his feet on the ground.
He’d run through various jobs in green energy and banking before scoring this Albright Enterprises slot. And, once he took over the family business, his new position wasn’t something he could bail on easily. Yet he was confident that he could handle it.
After he’d become engaged to Jackie, Grandpa Chad had shared that confidence, too.
“I’d hate to see you rushing into anything,” his dad said when Brent didn’t answer. “On account of professional ambition.”
“It’s not that at all,” Brent said firmly. “Jackie and I make a great team.”
Love would come later.
He hoped.
“What ever happened to that girl you dated right after college?”
“Amanda?” Brent asked, thrown. His dad hadn’t asked about his old girlfriend in years. Amanda Robbins had been the first—and only—woman to break Brent’s heart. Afterward, he’d promised himself he’d never let that happen again.
Brent was proud of the fact that he’d been successful so far.
“I have no idea. I’m guessing she’s married by now.”
“And that other gal… Sheryl, was it? Sheryl Bryce? The attorney in New York?” His dad thoughtfully tapped his chin. “Then there was Wesley, the extremely talkative one.”
Brent frowned. “What are you getting at?”
“Just that life is long, son. When you’re choosing a life partner, it’s important to choose carefully.”
“I have chosen carefully.”
His dad’s forehead rose. “After three months?”
“You told me yourself that three minutes was all you needed to know that Mom was the one for you.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” His dad chuckled. “The moment I looked into those pretty brown eyes, I was a goner.”
Brent had heard this tale a billion times, but he indulged his dad in the memory.
“We were in a creative writing class together,” his dad went on, “and Elsa sat beside me. I’ll never forget the way she smiled. Just as beautifully as she does today.”
He finished his drink and set the glass on a table beside his chair. “I don’t
recall a lick of that first lecture,” he reported with a grin, “but I did ask for her number. It took me nearly the entire semester to work up the nerve to call her…”
“Then, she asked you out first,” Brent finished.
His parents had a ton in common, and both had set their sights on New York. His dad now ran his own literary agency, and his mom was the managing editor of a home and garden magazine. They still lived in the same upscale Brooklyn neighborhood where Brent and his siblings had grown up, but Brent’s childhood summers had been spent right here in Blue Hill.
His dad gave him a thoughtful look. “It’s pretty awesome stuff, marriage with the right person. I just hope that Jackie’s the right person for you.”
“She is, Dad,” Brent said, but way deep in his heart there was a shadow of doubt. He couldn’t compare his situation to what his parents had, though. These were different times, and he was his own man. Besides that, he was thirty-two, not some kid, so old enough to make up his own mind.
His dad shared a warm smile. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”
Chapter Two
The voice on the GPS commanded Hope to turn left in fifty feet onto a gravel country road. For the past several miles, she’d driven across one-lane bridges, over inlets, and beside the stunning banks of Blue Hill Bay. Across the slow-rolling waves, she could just make out the hazy outline of Cadillac Mountain. Lobster boats trolled the glistening waters, and sailboats glided along, billowing winds caught in their colorful spinnakers.
When she’d lived here as a teen, Hope had never really appreciated the beauty of Blue Hill. Then again, she and her family had lived in the more…modest part of town near the coffee shop where her mom had worked. Basically, nowhere near this ritzy stretch of private homes on secluded waterfront acreage.
The audio directions announced that she was approaching her destination in another twenty feet. She searched the left-hand side of the road, but there were so many blueberry bushes between her and whatever lay on the other side.
There. Up ahead. An ivory flag covered in four-leaf clovers hung proudly from the mailbox at the end of a driveway, sporting the name “Albright” in gold-bordered green letters.
That was…fancy.
She slowed to a stop and glanced down at her white slacks and sleeveless top, worried that she’d underdressed. She wasn’t exactly used to hanging with high society, but at least her outfit was coordinated. Her navy sandals matched her clutch purse, and her gold hoop earrings went with the small heart necklace that she always wore on a chain around her neck.
Her hair, though…that was a mess. She’d straightened her dark waves with a flat iron before her flight, but the whipping winds in the convertible Jackie had rented had undone her effort.
She twisted her hair up in a clip and frowned at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Still disheveled, but passable. She’d run a brush through it later when no one was looking.
More blueberry bushes bordered the drive as Hope rounded a bend, tiny fruit clusters weighing down spindly branches. She’d always loved the color of ripe blueberries, but the season wouldn’t peak until later in the summer. Some of the small orbs were already deep blue, while others held a reddish tinge, bordering on purple—
A figure appeared in front of her in the drive, and Hope slammed on her brakes. Tires squealed and rocks scattered as the convertible skidded to a halt.
The woman spun toward her. A wicker basket dangled from the crook of her arm, and a long blond braid tumbled past one shoulder from beneath a floppy hat. She looked to be in her fifties. Could this be Brent’s mom?
She shoved her gear stick into park and cut the engine, her pulse pounding.
“Jackie,” the woman said with a stunned smile. “Close call. You almost hit me!” Despite her casual jeans and checkered shirt, the woman’s enormous rock of an engagement ring glimmered in the bright light, and silver bangles jangled on her wrist. “I’m Elsa Albright.”
So, she was Jackie’s future mother-in-law.
Eeep.
That’s all Hope needed—for the Albrights to think of the Webbs as reckless drivers. She hoisted herself up in the seat so she could speak over the top of the windshield. It was odd that Brent hadn’t told his mom about the change, but maybe he hadn’t had time.
“I’m so, so sorry, Mrs. Albright. And, actually, I’m not Ja—”
“Of course you aren’t.” Elsa skirted around the two-seater and popped open the passenger door, hopping right into the car. “Nobody’s used to navigating this narrow driveway.” She set her blueberry basket on the floor and leaned toward Hope.
“And now a proper introduction and a hug.”
Oomph. Elsa squeezed Hope so tightly a burst of air escaped from her lungs.
“I’m so thrilled to finally meet you.”
“Mrs. Albright—”
“Elsa, please.” She tucked a lock of Hope’s hair behind her ear. Then, she latched on to Hope’s chin, turning it from side to side. “Aren’t you pretty? Every bit as pretty as Brent said.”
Wait. “No—”
Elsa stopped her by patting her cheek. “No false modesty, now. Haven’t you heard?” Her brown eyes twinkled. “Brides are supposed to be beautiful.”
No. No, no, no. “I’m not—”
“What’s all the commotion out here?” a woman’s voice demanded.
Hope whipped her head around to see a stern older woman bulldozing her way toward them with her chin held high. From her haughty demeanor, Hope guessed she was the grandmother.
She rammed a hand loaded with gemstone rings against the driver-side door and sneered. “I see you decided to join us.”
Gah. This is what Jackie had to deal with for the rest of her life? “Actually, I—”
Margaret’s blue gaze was as cool as ice. “I’m surprised you could work us in.”
“Brent’s told us all about how busy you’ve been,” Elsa inserted nervously. “With that Maupin wedding?”
“Martin,” Hope said, dazed. This was not going the way she’d expected. She was under siege from all sides. At least Brent’s mom seemed nice enough, but Grandmother Margaret definitely wasn’t the warm-and-fuzzy type.
Far from it.
Elsa gave a short laugh, trying to downplay the situation. “Believe it or not, Margaret here thought you’d prioritize that wedding over this one.” She rolled her eyes like the idea was absurd, and Hope wanted to melt through the floor.
Jackie needed to show up and fix this.
“Now we know that’s not true, hmm?” Elsa grinned at Hope. “Here you are!”
“There she is.” A dark-haired guy in a black polo shirt and khakis ambled down the drive.
Hope nearly swallowed her tongue. Brent Albright was gorgeous as a teen, but as a man? She couldn’t breathe. In addition to the rugged-yet-refined-man thing he now had going, he walked with an easy stride that implied he was in command of his completely flawless body.
His smile, though…that’s what stole her breath away.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he said, gently nudging past Grandmother Margaret.
Hope’s breath hitched when she saw his unbelievably hot mouth dropping down toward hers. Wait. Was he going to kiss her?
“Brent!” she gasped, abruptly turning away. She could not kiss her sister’s fiancé.
No matter how exciting that had momentarily seemed.
He stumbled forward, his lips landing awkwardly on her cheek while his hands grasped her shoulders.
Hope’s world turned upside down, and her heart thundered as the pressure of his kiss lingered, his scent washing over her. He smelled like sand and sea and pine…and she had to resist wrapping her arms around his neck and yanking him into the car.
She broke into a sweat. This is not happening. I am not attracted to Jackie’s future husband! This was so incre
dibly twisted.
Not as twisted as Brent thinking she was Jackie, though. Shouldn’t he have some gut-level instinct about the woman he loved and was about to marry?
“Sorry about the display.” His whisper tickled her ear, and tingles raced down her spine.
Not good. Not good at all.
He shot a glance over his shoulder, meant for only her, and Hope got his meaning. They were playing the loving couple for his grandmother’s benefit. But why was it an act anyway?
She had to tell them she wasn’t Jackie now. Now, before it was too late. Her sister must not have gotten in touch with Brent, but Hope could explain things.
“In truth, I’m…er, not…” She tried to speak, but she got caught up in Brent’s heady stare. He had very dark eyes, maybe the darkest she’d ever seen. And, ooh, how they sparkled in the sunshine. “What I mean is…”
Desperate to regain her footing, she wrenched herself free of Brent’s gaze and turned to Elsa, who sat beside her in the passenger seat.
Brent’s mom’s immediate acceptance of her—no, Jackie—made her heart pound harder.
Elsa was trying so hard to be warm and welcoming, despite that fact that Hope had nearly flattened her in the driveway like a blueberry pancake.
Hope was at a total loss over what to do.
She’d told Jackie that this was impossible.
That she would no way in a million years impersonate her.
It was unethical and wrong.
And yet, she’d been helplessly cornered and suddenly had nowhere to turn…
An unnerving silence filled the air. She bit her bottom lip and peeked at Grandmother Margaret.
Sure enough, the older woman gave her the eye.
Hope prickled with agitation. How dare Grandmother Margaret judge her sister as not being good enough for Brent? That’s pretty obviously what she’d thought when she’d first challenged Jackie not to show up here. Now, she was being just plain mean. Acting surprised that she’d make time for her own wedding.
