Autumn leaned her back against the door, taking it all in. Maybe it wasn’t about appearances. Maybe this was about feelings. She’d been so proud to show Veronica her designs, so sure they would go over well. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Reality burned in her chest. She’d had a sleepless night, but it was time to quit feeling sorry for herself and move on.
When everything was set up for the day’s business and she’d turned the sign to Open, Autumn made her way to the workbench to brainstorming designs again. Where to begin? As she walked over, she tugged her long hair into a loose ponytail to cascade down her left shoulder. Slumping onto the stool, she expected to see her tools in front of her on the worktable, but found a line of pink and white circus animal cookies, carefully lined up on a folded paper towel instead. Lagging far behind was half a cookie, the head bitten off.
“Kian!” she half murmured, half laughed. It had to be him.
She plucked the first animal out of line and bit it in half while she pulled out her phone. She was pretty sure it was late afternoon or early evening in Italy, and time to ask her dad once and for all.
Dad, she texted, is there any chance Kian has a key to the shop? That would explain things if her father fessed up to giving his neighbor a contingency key.
While she waited for an answer, she pulled her sketchbook out of her bag and flipped through the pages. There had to be something to inspire her. She was well into it when her phone buzzed with an incoming video call.
“Hey, Dad!” she answered, thrilled to see the familiar face she loved so much. “And Angie?” Her father flipped the camera so Autumn could see her—standing with a couple of other women who shared the same height, coloring, and body type.
Autumn waved, and Angie called, “Ciao, my dear!” and blew her a kiss.
Her dad flipped the camera back so she could see him again.
It did Autumn’s heart good to see the two of them so happy. “Angie looks like she’s having an amazing time. Are you?”
“Ah, you better believe it, Auttors. It’s gorgeous here, and her family is so welcoming.”
The word brought back Kian’s crack about her being welcomed at the chamber meeting. Everyone had been so nice. She’d come to Eureka Springs feeling like a complete outsider—a billionaire suffering from imposter syndrome—but the people here and in her community at The Mountain Cove helped her fit right in. Well, everyone except Veronica. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it, Dad.”
“You texted something about Kian and a key?” He looked concerned.
“Don’t worry, nothing’s wrong. Well, unless you count Kian trying to get me to believe the ghost of Mafalda is haunting your shop.” She narrowed her eyes at her dad. “You didn’t tell me about any paranormal activity.”
Her dad’s expression remained impassive except for the new sparkle in his eye. “What have you seen?”
“Nothing I would attribute to a ghost. It’s all Kian.” She filled him in on the strange things she’d noticed. “But he can’t be doing it unless he’s getting into the shop somehow.”
“I doubt he has a key. When I moved in, the property management company suggested I change the locks. Afterwards, I dropped the spare key off at their office for emergencies, so I doubt Kian has it. There’s no reason he should.” He picked a small oval from a tree and took a bite of the orange fruit. “I Auttor say, nespoli are pretty great. You ever had loquats?”
She shook her head at his horrible, rotten dad joke. “Never even heard of them.”
“They’re kind of a citrusy-peachy-mango-y mix.” He took another bite and spit out a couple of large slippery seeds. “What makes you think it’s Kian?”
Now it was her turn to flip the phone’s camera around. “Because ghosts don’t eat animal cookies.” She didn’t go into the story of the ice cream from the night before. Though it was strange. For someone who was trying to convince her there was a ghost, Kian was careful to leave clues that it was him. It was almost as if he couldn’t lie about it, something that earned her respect. “When I came in this morning, this was left here for me at the worktable.”
“Why don’t you just ask him how he’s getting in?” Her father looked so comfortable, so happy there, she was slightly concerned he wouldn’t come back to Arkansas.
“Where would the fun be in that?” Had she just admitted to her father that she was flirting with his friend and neighbor? She tried not to blush. The bell over the shop door jingled. “Hey, Dad, I should go. A customer just came in. Love you! Enjoy your trip!”
He said his quick goodbye, and Autumn pushed thoughts of her father, loquats, and Kian to the side to consider later. She had work to do before heading to Spokes that evening. She’d made a bargain; now it was her responsibility to uphold her end of the deal. While she had absolutely no desire to sing onstage—was actually quite terrified to do it—she was a woman of her word.
It didn’t hurt that she’d been terribly curious about the weekend noise coming from the club downstairs. Feeling left out could be so annoying. Not wanting to appear too interested, she hadn’t gotten close enough to Spokes to read the flyers on the door, but she had poked around their website. The problem was that whatever was going on there in the evenings seemed to be new enough that she wasn’t sure if tonight’s performance was a comedy club, an open mic, or a band who might call her up to sing backup. None of the prospects sounded appealing, but she would be there, just like she said she would.
Several hours later, in the middle of eating dinner salads Katrina had picked up at Freddy’s Diner, one of the vintage shop chandeliers dimmed, grew in intensity, dimmed again, then then went back to full strength.
“Did you see that?” Katrina asked, pointing with her fork at the light fixture.
“I did.” The next light fixture did the same. The two women watched in silence.
“Weird,” Katrina said.
Autumn blew out a breath. Ever since she’d made the offer to buy the building, something had been niggling at her about it. Because she was uncomfortable, she hadn’t pushed to pursue it, leaving the deal in limbo while she tried to decide. Maybe this faulty wiring was a sign—a good reason to leave it instead of getting sucked into a huge problem. The lights did it again, only this time, both overhead lights dimmed in tandem.
“Did you notice electrical issues before my dad left?” Autumn asked. He hadn’t mentioned it to her.
Katrina gave a half shrug and took a sip of her water. “Not that I noticed or that he said.” She took a bite of her salad, chewed, and swallowed. “Maybe it’s the ghost.”
Autumn gave a short, derisive laugh. “Not you too. Or did Kian put you up to this?”
Katrina laughed. “I’m just kidding. Other than what you’ve told me, I’ve never seen any proof that a ghost lives here.”
Exactly what Autumn thought. Next to her plate, her phone buzzed with a text from Kian.
Showtime!
Before she could reply, another text came through. Come on down so you can familiarize yourself with the stage before the audience trickles in.
Forget butterflies—a whole colony of bats took up residence in her stomach. She exhaled and centered herself. Time to get this over with. On my way.
As it was a Friday during summer vacation, Eureka Springs was packed. The Looking Glass had kept up steady business not only with lookie-loos, but sales had also been high. Having worked since the shop opened, Autumn was more than ready for a break. Even though it was Katrina’s night to close, Autumn still felt bad about leaving her.
“Are you sure you’ve got this?” Autumn asked.
“Oh no.” With both hands on her hips, Katrina shook her head and gave Autumn the sternest look she could manage, though with her thin, late-teen body and cute button nose, she hardly screamed scary. “Don’t think you’re getting out of going down there. You promised Kian.”
Busted. But Autumn didn’t want to fess up to it. She feigned innocence instead. “I just want to make sure you’re okay
. Is there anyone else I could call in to help you?”
“I’m fine.” Katrina smiled at a customer before turning back to Autumn. “It’s not like people are stealing stained glass off the shelf. Karma on that could get pretty painful.”
Autumn chuckled. “Text me if you get slammed.”
“Will do.” Katrina said. When Autumn had her hand on the doorknob, she followed up with, “Or won’t. Have fun!”
Autumn left. The girl was a hoot, and she really did have this under control, which left Autumn with exactly zero excuses. She jogged down the concrete steps and opened the door into Spokes. She’d braced herself for a bike shop turned entertainment establishment, as it had looked a week and a half ago when she’d dropped in before their bike ride, but found a trendy club instead.
“Kian!” she called out as she walked in. Since it was still more than an hour before showtime, the place was empty and her voice echoed through the room. “The place looks amazing!” It really did. When she’d been here last week, the basics had been there, but the additional finishing touches made all the difference. The dark brick with the German schmear was the perfect backdrop for the stage, especially when complemented with old bike parts on the wall and numerous Edison pendant lights.
“Come on back!” he called from the stage area.
But she walked through the room slowly, wanting to take it all in as she went. “I don’t remember a snack bar before . . .”
Not waiting for her to come onstage, Kian joined her. “My most recent addition.” Like a magician showing off a trick, he spread his arms wide, fingers splayed in front of it. “We’ll be taking it for its maiden voyage tonight, complete with our shiny new city permit and just-hired employees. But I don’t think a few sodas and buckets of popcorn will be difficult to manage.”
Autumn shrugged her shoulders, all serious. “I don’t know. Add in the Junior Mints, and it just might be too much.”
Kian rolled his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head. “Funny girl. I guess I should invite you onstage for your comedic contributions rather than your choral ones.”
“I don’t think so.” She shook her head and backed toward the exit.
Kian grabbed her forearm. “Ah, now, don’t get stage fright.” His eyes flicked to the front of the room. “Speaking of stage, I figured it might help to have you do a run-through before the audience shows up. My employees will be here in about fifteen minutes.”
Audience. He used that word again. The bats took flight, swirling in a tornado this time.
He hit a button on his phone, and a Thomas Rhett song came on over the house speakers—the same one she’d sung along with at the top of her lungs the week before. Was that where he’d gotten this idea? Her face flushed with embarrassment. He took her hand and stepped up onto the low stage, leading her up with him. Ignoring all obvious signs of her reticence, he acted like he was asking nothing. Honestly, this was nothing. Nothing compared to what he’d be expecting an hour from now.
Kian grabbed the microphone and sang along, swinging his hips and shoulders in time to the music. When the chorus came closer, so did he, his eyes catching hers in question. Her mouth went dry. How was she supposed to sing when her voice would crack like the Nyiri Desert?
He started to tip the microphone her way, but at the last second, took it back, belting out the next line himself. Rather than handing it over, he abandoned the mic and took her in his arms. As he swirled her into a dance, her quick heartbeat of nervousness switched to something completely different but just as fast. He smelled amazing. She tried not to think of the muscles in his arm where her hand rested. The soft hairs on his cheek rubbed against her forehead as he sang along to the tune, and this time, when the chorus swelled, she joined in.
As the song drew to a close, Kian finished in more of an embrace than a dance position. “See? I knew you had a beautiful voice.” His voice was low in her ear and sent glorious goose bumps down down her arms.
“I told you I’d sing onstage Friday night,” she said just as softly back to him. “Looks like I just fulfilled my end of the bargain.” She didn’t even feel bad about it. He’d found his loophole, and she had as well.
He chuckled softly and then squeezed her hand before he twirled her from his arms. “You better pick your seat for the show.” He pointed to a chair about a third of the way down the first row. “I was thinking right here up front will make it easiest for when I call you up onstage.”
She glared at him and chose a seat in the back.
He shrugged. “Fine by me, but that means a longer walk with all eyes on you. More opportunity for you to trip.” He made a grimace. “We don’t want that.” He shook his head. “But if you sit here—” He indicated the same seat again. “—I can reach down and help you up. I won’t let you look bad.”
She blew out a frustrated breath, loud enough for him to hear, though she really wasn’t that upset. She’d sit up front because he was going to be onstage, and that was something she wanted a front-row seat for.
When Kian took the stage less than an hour later in front of a packed house, Autumn had to deal with the fact that it was comedy night, not open mic. Would he really encourage people to laugh at her? Starting to feel panic creeping in, she looked around her for a way out. She should have stuck with the back row, where she could have escaped unnoticed. Here, she was right up front with happy couples holding hands on either side of her. A smile from Kian transformed her bats to butterflies, and she settled in to enjoy the show while she could.
“Recently, I spent twelve hundred dollars on a memory foam mattress,” Kian was saying. “Anyone out there have one of those?”
A couple of hoots and hollers answered among a smattering of applause.
“Yeah, I was looking forward to some good sleep. I’m sure there are others here having difficulty sleeping.” He threw Autumn a look, one eyebrow raised and a quirk to his lips. Tingles traveled down her body. “So I was excited to try out my new mattress, and let me tell you—that first night was amazing. I don’t think I ever slept so well. The next night, I couldn’t wait for bedtime.” He shook his head. “Terrible night.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck and twisted his head as if in pain. “My mattress didn’t remember me at all! Turns out it has short-term memory loss.” He shook his head in mock disgust. “But then the next night, I decided I’d try one more time, but without the sheet and blanket, just in case my memory foam mattress didn’t recognize me because I was undercover.”
Half of the audience groaned at his pun, but everyone had a smile on their faces.
Seeing Kian perform, completely at home, was a treat. In person, he was funny and witty and fun to be with. Onstage, he was all that times a hundred. Around her, people laughed and clapped, having a good time, and it wasn’t until Kian asked for a volunteer to help him that she remembered their deal.
In her periphery, she saw a few hands go up, but he hardly paused before looking at her. “How about you, the pretty brunette on the first row? You seem to be here without a date. Maybe you can be mine?” He reached a hand toward her, and she forced a swallow and a smile before she took it.
While she came up onstage, the first strains of the Thomas Rhett song came on, and Autumn’s stomach dropped. This was it.
“This is my friend Autumn,” he said over the music. A couple of cheers answered him, and he continued. “Yes, give it up for Autumn.”
The audience clapping did nothing to encourage her—all it did was stir up those bats again.
By now, Autumn had made it onstage—without tripping or doing anything embarrassing, at least. She stood next to him, still clutching his hand. The song’s intro was winding down, and he hadn’t said anything about her singing yet. Should she just start? Would he hand over the microphone at the last second?
Just as Thomas Rhett started singing, the volume on the song decreased and faded back.
“I first met Autumn at the blues festival a few weeks back when she was new to Eureka S
prings. It was an unforgettable night. Anyone else here from out of town?”
Thunderous applause answered him.
He nodded. “I thought so. Y’all look pretty normal—which isn’t normal around here.” The audience laughed. “Poor Autumn was struggling to understand our Eurekan customs. I’m sure none of you feel that.” Some light laughter followed. “Tell me, Autumn, what is the weirdest thing about Eureka Springs? One thing that sets this town apart from the rest of the world?”
So he wasn’t going to make her sing. Relief washed over her, almost making her knees buckle, except she still had well over a hundred sets of eyes on her right now. The room was cavernous. She couldn’t think about that.
She leaned into the microphone, and his hand brushed her hip. The tingles she felt from his touch kept her grounded. “No question—the ghosts. I had no idea when I moved here that was going to be a thing.”
The room erupted in applause. She wasn’t the only one who thought that.
“The paranormal.” Kian accepted her topic with several huge nods and an equally enormous smile. “I can work with that. Thanks, Autumn.” With a hand at her back, he guided her to the edge of the stage. Before helping her down, he leaned in close. “You filled your end of the bargain,” he whispered, his cheek brushing hers.
She stepped onto solid ground and out of the spotlight and practically fell into her chair with relief. Still clearing her mind from the panic of being center stage, she missed his segue into jokes about Eureka Springs spirits and legends and settled in to enjoy it. At some point, he moved on to celebrity sightings and how there are several billionaires who called this town home. Just him using the word billionaire, and being surprised still that it described her, made Autumn pause. There was nothing special about her. She was just like everyone else here. Except for her bank account. She’d gotten lucky, somehow becoming successful doing what she loved.
Bargaining with the Billionaire (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove) Page 11
