“And now that I’m lucky enough to be in a position to pay you back just a fraction . . .” she said, though he wasn’t going to accept that. “Besides, you’re earning it. All the custom work you’re doing on my house . . .” Truly, the stained-glass doors and windows he’d created for her home would have cost her a fortune if she’d hired someone to do it, and it meant so much more knowing her father had designed and crafted them. The home would be a family heirloom, something she hoped she’d be able to leave to her children. If she was ever fortunate enough to find the right guy.
Of course, if she mentioned the work on her house, her father would argue it was to pay for the cottage she’d had built for him and Angie. And then she’d counter that caretakers often had their own residences on estates like hers. Best to stop the conversation here.
“What do I need to know about the shop before you leave tomorrow?” The fact that she’d be left alone with it that soon brought a jolt of anxiety to her. It had been a long time since she’d run a shop day to day. While she’d only just sold her shop in Dallas a few months ago, she hadn’t actually managed the store in person since her lucky break a few years back. All it took was getting a design talked about by one celebrity, and the commissions snowballed from there, leaving her with hiring a store manager and diving into designing full time.
“The books will be easy—I think you used the same software, and you can always call if you have a question.”
“I know, Dad.” She chewed on her lip. “It’s been a while since I’ve done any glasswork, though.” She touched the smooth glass petals of a lotus flower between her thumb and forefinger. Like the metal of her jewelry, it was cool to the touch but warmed quickly.
“Don’t even worry about that. I created a stock of pieces—just rotate them, replace them as they sell, you know the drill. If you get bored, you could make a few of your own—I’m sure it’ll all come back to you. You were always a natural with an artistic eye. Which is why I might have offered . . .” Her father actually squirmed. Something was up.
She pinned him with a searching eye. “Spit it out, Dad.”
“I have an amazing opportunity for you.”
She didn’t want to hear this. “Dad, you know I love you, but—”
“Hear me out, Auttors.” He put both hands out like he was slowing her down. “Seriously, I think this is right up your alley, and since it’s one of your college friends hosting it . . .”
Dad was baiting her, but she let him. She kept a patient expression and let him explain.
“Eureka Springs is known for its events, and one of the biggest is its annual Barefoot Ball with dances held in various locations around town.” Just like the blues festival. “Celebrities come from all over to attend the most exclusive one in the Basin Park Hotel, where they also have a silent auction to raise money for charity. This year’s host—an Aaron Mills or something like that—contacted the chamber of commerce for some help getting it organized.”
Aaron Mills? The same one who’d married her old college friend Tara? A sudden sadness clutched at her. If it was the same guy, it would be interesting to run into him again. Last she’d heard, he hadn’t handled his wife’s passing well, and his life was riddled with scandal.
Her father, however, was still explaining. “I was sitting in a committee, brainstorming famous fashion and jewelry designers to draw people in, and I might have mentioned you.”
“Might have?” Autumn raised her eyebrows like a mom waiting for her child to dig himself out of a hole he’d gotten into. My, how the tables had turned.
“I might have told them how my famous daughter had designed the engagement and wedding rings for the royal couple—”
Autumn squeezed her eyelids shut. It was one thing to be proud of your daughter, but this was bragging. Not the way she wanted to be introduced to her new community.
“I know what you’re thinking, but Emily Wood, the executive director, was beyond ecstatic. The host wants you to design pieces for the celebrities to wear at the ball—don’t worry, you’ll get them all back unless they want to purchase them from you. You’ll only have to donate one piece to the silent auction.”
Speechless, Autumn blinked at him, not caring that her mouth hung open.
“Think about it.” Her father rushed to defend himself. “It’s great advertising for the Autumn Molinero jewelry brand.”
He had her there. It was the perfect venue, the right clientele. “When is the event?”
Dad crossed his arms, looking confident he’d done something right. “August. So you’ll still be here.”
“August?” She would have accepted in a heartbeat, except—August? That was less than three months away. “As in this year? How many pieces are we talking about?”
How could he do this to her? Anxiety clamped down on her chest.
Dad laid a heavy but reassuring hand on her shoulder, his eyes drawing together. “You’re not worried, are you?” As if he hadn’t even considered that he was asking a lot of her in a short period of time. “You can do this. Stuck here in sleepy, small-town Arkansas—” He used her own observation about Eureka Springs against her. “—you’ll have all the time you need.”
Sure, if she could just whip anything out. Except she had a brand to build, a name to protect. She’d built her platform on custom designs specific to each customer, unique pieces unavailable anywhere else.
The shop door opened, the first time since Autumn had come in, and she looked up, grateful for the interruption. Until she saw who it was.
“Tommy, my friend, how are you? Ready to ship out tomorrow?” The one man Autumn apparently couldn’t get away from clapped Dad on the shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re going to leave me all summer.” He shook his head playfully and then looked at Angie. “Are you sure you can put up with him that long?”
Angie raised an eyebrow and looked up at Tommy’s face, her look softening when he winked at her. “I hope so, since I married him.”
“Yeah, you’d better like him since you’re stuck with him.”
“Stuck?” She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Nah, I’m not stuck. I more than kinda like him.” Her smile was even bigger than it had been on their wedding day. “Good to see you, Kian.” She stepped around the counter and gave him a quick hug.
Kian’s eyes drifted over to Autumn, his first acknowledgment that she was in the room. “I came up to see if the lost tourist found you. GPS was giving her trouble.” He gave her a brief smirk and then a big smile. “Looks like she found you all right.” He chuckled dryly. “Might need directions how to leave, though.”
Autumn stood up from the stool, her hands on her hips, and glared at him.
“Kian!” Angie thumped him playfully on the shoulder. “This is my new daughter, Autumn.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, though it wasn’t clear who he was apologizing to. With his eyes still full of mischief, he stepped forward and reached out to shake her hand. “Nice to officially meet you, Autumn.”
His hand in hers reminded her of Saturday night when they’d intertwined fingers, only the buzzing she felt this time came from his watch. He retracted his hand and checked the notification. “Looks like someone’s here.” He gave a half wave, even as he started toward the door. “Sorry, I’ve got to run. Bon voyage, my friend, and I’ll see you on the other side.”
Autumn watched through the window as he started down the steps. He flashed two fingers—was that a peace sign, or was it supposed to be something else? “Two,” he mouthed.
Two what? She shook her head, confused.
She wouldn’t spend the time trying to figure that one out when there was so much more about him she didn’t understand. On the one hand, she’d liked Kian—a little too much for someone she’d just met—but then the next time she’d run into him, he’d come across as arrogant and aloof. Truth be told, she was still in shock. When he’d disappeared Saturday night, she’d never expected to see her hero again. Now, she’d seen him in
three separate situations in the same number of days, and she had absolutely no idea what to make of him.
4
The concrete of the steps gripped Kian’s tennis shoes as he jogged past Tommy’s side window. The last thing he needed was to tumble down two stories of hard angles in front of the girl who seemed intent to haunt him. What he wasn’t sure yet was if that was a good thing or a bad one. She was already an almost permanent fixture in his mind, a favorite memory to replay, so why wouldn’t seeing the real thing be an improvement?
He looked up and found her watching him through the window. He grinned and flashed two fingers. “That’s two you owe me, Autumn,” he muttered to himself, liking the sound of her name.
While he’d always liked the name Taylor, this one fit her so much better—the chestnut hair with just a bare hint of auburn, deep brown eyes that reminded him of football, and the dimpled smile that came and went like sunlight filtering through fall leaves. Autumn. His new favorite season.
Now that he was past the window, his curiosity went to his shop’s front door. Who was down there that set off his alarm? Spokes wasn’t technically open today. After jam-packed weekends, Mondays were slow. He typically used the day to catch up on boring essentials like laundry and grocery shopping. He’d need to hurry to catch whoever was before they left.
He turned the corner to find a petite woman with a blond bob, leaning against his door, her arms crossed and basking in the sun—his friend from the chamber of commerce, Emily Wood.
“Took you long enough.” She stood up straight. “You might consider hiring an employee so you could be open more hours.”
“Eh.” Kian shrugged. “That’s what the security system is for.” He could have checked the video feed and had a conversation remotely. It wouldn’t have been his first bike tour he’d scheduled that way. He went to the door and unlocked it, then held it open for her to enter.
“Friday’s the big night, right?” She tapped the flyer posted on the door window as she crossed the threshold.
“It is! The comedy club officially kicks off this week. Saturdays will be for live bands, and starting next week, Thursdays will be open mic/karaoke nights.”
“I like it.” She nodded appreciatively. “Did you get the permit for the snack bar?”
“Still working on that.” He would keep things simple—a basic soda fountain, some popcorn and candy. It shouldn’t be hard to get. If only the permits were his only outstanding tasks. He still needed to finish interior construction and hire a couple of employees.
Emily looked around the shop, and Kian tried not to wince at the mess. “What happened to all your bikes?” she asked.
Bike wheels and T-shirts decorated one wall, but he’d moved most of the parts and tools to a storage room upstairs to make room for audience seating and the stage he was building. “I moved my rentals to the shed at my house—that way it’s closer to the trails.” He would still run the bike tours during the day. He loved them too much to let them fall by the wayside, but he wouldn’t put off his dream of becoming a comedian any longer. “Are you coming for opening night?”
“Of course! Grant and I are looking forward to it.”
He could always count on their support. He offered her a chair and then leaned against the counter. “I’m sure you didn’t come here to check up on the state of my shop. Are you planning another matchmaking bike tour?” He managed to keep a straight face, though the memory cracked him up.
Her cheeks pinked and she shook her head. “Are you kidding me? I gave up on all of that matchmaking stuff.”
He’d known that, but couldn’t help teasing her. At least she hadn’t tried setting him up—well, not intentionally.
“I wanted to check if you have any leads on the event you said you could secure for me. I know November sounds like it’s a long time away, but it’ll come sooner than you think, and we need time to advertise.”
Kian kept from rolling his eyes, but just barely. It was his own fault, but he still hadn’t worked out any of the details. “I know, I know.” If only he hadn’t opened his big mouth two months ago at the chamber of commerce board meeting. He’d regretted it ever since.
Really, if anyone had connections to the rich and famous, Emily should, with her best-selling novelist boyfriend. Still, Kian had been the one to volunteer, selfishly hoping to tie Eureka Springs’s newest event in with his own business ventures, if possible. What he hadn’t taken into account was the area’s overwhelming preponderance of established mountain biking activities. Coming up with something new to pull in tourists was proving to be a bigger challenge than he’d wanted to take on.
“I’m following up on some leads,” he said as vaguely as he could. “I’ll let you know when I have something definite.”
“If you’re still looking for ideas, why not work your family’s Al Capone angle? Everyone loves a treasure hunt.”
Kian cringed, even though Emily hadn’t meant it as a personal cut. “I know he’s the big draw to Alcatraz, but we don’t have any actual evidence he was even in Eureka Springs.”
“Mollie talks about his sister having stayed at the Basin Park Hotel.”
“Yeah, for a month.” It shouldn’t surprise him that tourists and tour guides alike grabbed on to any bit of notoriety they could, but this was personal to him. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t searching for treasure; he was searching for proof. He also wasn’t trying to claim a family connection to Al Capone, but the exact opposite. “Don’t worry. I’ll find something.” He was talking about a festival idea, but the comment fit his personal quest as well.
“—big,” she added, raising an eyebrow for emphasis.
“Big,” he repeated. “I’ll find something big.” Though his event wouldn’t have anything to do with Al Capone. “But . . .” He drew it out. “If you want me to get to work on it, you could give me a hand moving furniture and building a stage. Then I’d be free to get to your project that much sooner.”
“My project?” Emily shook her head. “You volunteered for it. And this isn’t one of your deals.” She smirked at him good-naturedly.
Kian shrugged and walked her to the door. “I’ll let you know soon.” He was overselling it, but he was an optimist. Of course, that was what had gotten him in this mess to begin with. “Tell Grant I’m getting a group of guys together for a ride next week if he wants to join.”
Emily gave him a slit-eyed glare.
Kian lifted both hands in front of him to defend himself. “Sorry. No girls—and no girlfriends—allowed.”
She stepped into the sunlight, shaking her head. “Mature, Gould, real mature.”
He sighed dramatically as if she were forcing him into something. “Okay. I’ll do one for the girls too—when I open an easy trail.”
She smacked him playfully on the shoulder. “You’re afraid I’ll best you.”
“No.” He shook his head, completely serious. “I’m not afraid. I know.”
This made her smile.
She was good to take his teasing. He wouldn’t risk the sexist talk with anyone else, but Emily felt like a big sister. She could dish it just as well.
She lifted a warning finger. “Make sure it’s good.”
He lifted one right back. “You didn’t say anything about good. You said big.”
“Kian!” she said warningly through gritted teeth that just barely held back her smile.
He was pushing it. He waved and went back inside. Next to the smattering of disorganized chairs sat a fragrant stack of pine 2x4s, ready to be cut for the stage base. He breathed in deeply, relishing one of the best scents in the world. He’d planned on being away from the office today, but it wouldn’t hurt to hang around and get some work done, especially if that meant he had the chance of running into Tommy’s daughter again.
5
A few days after her father and stepmother left for Europe, Autumn was still getting the hang of the steady stream of tourists coming in and out of the Looking Glass. If this
kept up year round, her father’s shop would out-earn Autumn’s former boutique’s annual income in a matter of months. She was happy for him—sad that her mother hadn’t been there to run the shop with him, since it had been their dream together—but pleased something that brought him so much joy was going to work out. What wasn’t working was Autumn finding time to get any preliminary designs done.
“I’m pretty sure you did not hire me to be your Uber Eats delivery person.” Autumn’s assistant, Linzi, set a white paper sack on the counter and flopped onto one of the stools.
Autumn walked to the door and flipped the sign to Closed with a breath of relief. “Don’t complain too much—at least I let you choose the food.” She reached for the bag and unfolded the top, taking in a whiff of the bakery herb bread the veggie sandwich was on. “Thank you so much for this.” She pulled out both paper-wrapped sandwiches and figured out from the black marker scribble of letters which was hers. She handed the other to Linzi. “I haven’t had a moment to myself since the shop opened this morning.” With dusk settling in the window behind them, she didn’t have to tell her what her grumbling stomach had been complaining about for at least an hour.
“Not my fault.” Linzi crossed her ankles in front of her and unwrapped her sandwich. “You know you could hire someone to do this.” She pulled out her phone as if ready to take notes. “I could do some interviews—"
Autumn put out a hand to stop her. “Thanks. Dad has someone, actually, I just haven’t called her in because I was trying to get the lay of the land.” Not only had she wanted to assess foot traffic, she’d also needed the time to remind herself how to work with stained glass. She’d grown up working alongside her parents, but she’d taken the skills and applied them to jewelry design, and she hadn’t touched a glass cutter since. Ignoring the throbbing pain from a few too many cuts on her hands, she took a bite of her sandwich and almost died of pleasure. “Okay, I’m ready. Give me the rundown of the day.”
Bargaining with the Billionaire (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove) Page 3
