by Tara Randel
Jewel’s perfectly arched brow rose.
“Her lists are so detailed she must have spent hours putting them together. I have to admit, they’re almost better than mine, and that’s saying a lot. After seeing what she has in store for this show, I realize handling all this is a big deal.” Blowing out a breath, she rested her chin on her upraised hand, sure she conjured up a picture of pure dejection. “Can I run a fashion show and go after that promotion without messing up? Especially when there are others in the office after it, too?”
“If anyone can do this, you can. The timing is perfect. It’s been a year since, well, never mind. Look at this as your get-out-of-the-rut card.”
Lilli laughed. “I hadn’t looked at it that way.”
“You should. And it’s my job, as your friend, to be there for you. You know, to remind you to get out and have a life. To meet guys. Although I have to admit, you’ve been too picky in the men department, but I’ll keep on trying.”
“Along with my mother,” Lilli said dryly.
“Well, you’re not easy to work with. All guys aren’t like Rob. If you’d give someone a chance you’d find out.”
Yeah, her head knew that, but her heart hadn’t made the leap—witness the wave of unwelcome memories plaguing her this morning. She realized she didn’t want to go down that road again. Not if the ache in her stomach that had started at the mention of the country club became a permanent ailment. Eventually she’d have to step into that place, but not right this moment. Steering the conversation back to the present, Lilli told her friend, “You know, just for spite, I should make you help me out.”
A flash of surprise lit Jewel’s eyes, then a slow grin spread across her magenta lips. “This could work, you know. I do have an eye for fashion.”
Lilli scrutinized the bohemian outfit of layered black and fuchsia tank tops matched with a flippy cotton skirt and sparkly sandals before glancing down at her own conservative outfit. What had happened to her sense of style? Standard blouse and skirt. Blend into the wall, why don’t you?
“Hey, we all can’t dress like we walked out of Vogue.”
She loved her young friend. Jewel’s fashion sense? Not always. But right now, her own wardrobe needed a major overhaul, so who was she to balk?
“I was thinking more of you helping me here, in case I get behind or if Jim starts piling on the work.” She flashed a pleading smile. “Please?”
Jewel laughed. “I can do that—as long as I get a shot at working the benefit.”
Lilli thought about it for a few seconds, glancing at the file folder sitting on her desk. Getting Jewel to help might not be a bad idea. She nodded to the file. “There are all kinds of reception pictures in there. Why don’t you take a look and put together some ideas for me?”
Jewel’s eyes lit up. “You’d trust me to do that? I’m still an intern here.”
“An intern who is about to be hired on as staff. You’ve proved yourself. Enough said. There’s already a committee set up to do whatever I need, but give me some ideas and we’ll go from there.”
“I still can’t believe Jim decided to hire me.” Jewel grabbed the large file, hugging it to her chest. “And now this. Thanks.”
“Well, that’s two jobs down for today. Since I bombed on the first one, knowing you’ll help has lessened my anxiety level.”
“Two?” Jewel asked as she took a seat and explored the file.
“I’d hoped to get my number-one priority out of the way this morning.”
“You mean getting your mother’s stuff from the historical society?”
“Yes and no. I got the lists, but first I was supposed to talk Max Sanders into volunteering as one of the grooms.”
Jewel’s head popped up and her eyes grew wide. “Max Sanders? The hunky new P.I.?”
“Private security consultant,” Lilli corrected.
“You know him?”
Boy, did she know him. She wasn’t ready to fill Jewel in on the details. She still needed to process the events of the morning.
When Lilli didn’t respond, Jewel continued. “I met him at Cuppa Joe last week. You know me—never met a stranger.”
Or a prospective date for Lilli. “You didn’t mention him.”
Jewel bent her head, busy searching the file. “Guess it slipped my mind.”
Hardly. Good-looking guys never slipped Jewel’s mind.
“Is there something wrong?”
Jewel’s head jerked up again. “No! Why would you ask that?”
“Because you didn’t try to introduce us.”
A few beats passed before a knowing grin flashed across Jewel’s face. “You’re interested in him.”
“I didn’t say that.” Nor would she ever admit it because that would lead to heartache. She didn’t do heartache anymore.
“You’ve never asked me about a guy before.”
Lilli shrugged. “I kind of have to work with him for the fund-raiser. I’m curious.”
“So am I. Now.” Jewel dragged her chair to Lilli’s desk. “Details.”
“My mother wanted me to confirm Max as a volunteer groom. That’s all.”
“And...?”
“He refused. I used my strong powers of persuasion, and he still turned me down.”
Jewel eyed her with skepticism.
“Okay, so my mother hired him to update the security system at the historical society office and provide security for the obscenely expensive jewelry she insists on showcasing at the benefit. But even if he hadn’t already signed up to work for my mother, I was still persuasive.”
Sure you were. Right up until he all but said you should take a hike.
He wasn’t overjoyed at the prospect of being part of the fashion show. She couldn’t blame him. She wouldn’t want to model in front of all those people, either. Her mother hadn’t gone as far as asking her to participate as one of the brides. Lilli would have refused. Wearing a wedding dress again would make the memories all too real.
But Max could look at this as a working gig. A great way to gain clients. So why turn down the opportunity? He may have been a bad boy years ago, but it looked as if he’d cleaned up his act and become responsible. She could give his business a boost by promoting Sanders Security around town, the least she could do for causing him trouble all those years ago.
She grinned when she remembered his appalled expression at the mention of wearing a tuxedo. It had been worth the visit to his office to see the look on his face. And when they shook hands... She shivered in memory. She couldn’t deny the thrill when those smoky gray eyes focused on her alone. His clean-scented cologne and the promise of excitement hung in the air between them. She’d been mesmerized. And alarmed at her strong reaction to the man. The rugged tough-guy thing? Too much. So not Orlando Bloom. So not her type.
Maybe he should be, an impish voice taunted her.
Lilli caught Jewel grinning at her. “What are you smiling at?”
“Nothing.”
Riiight.
“So, as of right now, phase one of mission ‘Return Favor to Celeste Barclay’ is a failure.”
“You’ll just have to come up with a better plan.”
“Like what?” Lilli asked.
“I have no idea. That’s your department.”
Lilli thought back to their conversation. “He was adamant about not being a groom. I wonder if the vision of him and all those brides locked in one room made him nervous?” She paused a beat. “Oh, wait, that’s my nightmare.”
Jewel chuckled. “So, what’s he like?” she asked, scooting closer to Lilli’s desk so she could settle in to hear all the dirt. “I only got a few minutes in Cuppa Joe with him. Not a chatty guy. More interested in getting his morning coffee and heading out the door.” Lilli knew perfectly well her fr
iend wouldn’t budge until she had her fill of information. “A real bad boy, right?”
“How would I know?” But yeah, a bad boy. She’d known that the first time she’d laid eyes on him. Today’s meeting only confirmed her first impression. Because of that, she had a hard time loosening up around him and probably came off sounding very starchy. But he just oozed masculinity. Did he have to be so good-looking? And smell so good? Exceptionally good. When their gazes had connected over the desktop, she’d had to ignore the urge to ask what he’d done with his life since the summer they’d met.
Jewel continued. “So, we know he’s gorgeous—”
Yeah, that, too.
“—if you like that kind.” Jewel eyed her with suspicion.
“What kind?” Lilli had lost track of the thread of conversation.
“Tall, built, alpha attitude?”
Oh, yeah. All those things.
“You got all this at a coffee shop?” Lilli asked, busying herself with papers on her desk, hoping to hide her sappy smile.
“It’s the vibe he sends out. Can’t miss it.” Jewel watched Lilli tidy up. “So that’s why you haven’t gotten any work done.”
“Huh?”
“And you’ve got the look.”
“What look?”
“Interested.”
“No way.” Did she? She hadn’t been dwelling on him all morning, just snatches of time here and there. “And I can prove he’s not my type. Not only did his clothing leave something to be desire—”
“What was he wearing?”
“What was he what?”
“Wearing? Obviously it bothers you.”
“I don’t know. Faded jeans. Tight black T-shirt. Five-o’clock shadow first thing in the morning.”
Jewels eyebrows arched. “I didn’t know shaving qualified as a fashion accessory.”
“It’s just unprofessional.”
“He’s a private investigator.” Jewel threw her a look. “The last thing he wants to do is stick out in a crowd.”
“I guess.” Lilli pursed her lips, exasperated by her friend’s interrogation. Cringing, she hoped she hadn’t come across as uptight with Max, but she was very afraid she had. “Then explain this. When we were in his office, I noticed a wall calendar. Penciled in every Saturday is a woman’s name. A different woman’s name. Cards with Terri. The gazebo with Margaret. Drive with Carolyn.”
“Which means what?”
“I don’t know. He’s a player?”
Jewel laughed.
“What?”
“That sounds so funny coming from you.”
“Hey, I can be hip if I want to.”
Jewel continued laughing. “Keep telling yourself that, but I know better.”
“You know I don’t go out with guys like him.” Even to herself Lilli sounded uppity.
“Problem is, you don’t go out at all,” Jewel muttered, then flushed at Lilli’s hurt expression. “I’m sorry. I call ’em like I see ’em. And you’ve got Max on the brain.” Jewel placed the wedding file back on the desk. “Let’s go eat. You need a break from all this charity-event talk and I want to check out the new place downtown, Pointe Café.”
Lilli glanced at her computer screen again, knowing she wouldn’t get any more work done. Max Sanders had captured her thoughts, thanks to Jewel’s prodding. She needed a change of scenery. After saving her work, she stood. “Let’s go.”
Lilli grabbed her purse, knocking over the accordion file Mrs. Rumpold had given her earlier. Wedding gown photos spilled to the floor. Exasperated, Lilli knelt down to collect the pictures, her eye catching on an image of a beautiful gown. The white strapless creation hugged the model’s body before flaring out in an embroidered trumpet skirt and train.
“Coming?” Jewel called.
“Be right there.” She took one last look at the gown before scooping up the remaining pictures, securely placing them in the file and out of her sight before her resolve to stay unaffected by weddings unraveled.
CHAPTER THREE
MAX HELD THE PRINTOUT with the particulars of the Wingate collection in his hand. He perused the information, realizing this collection was not just fancy jewelry. The pieces, which showcased several diamonds and sapphires, were more like artwork, he noted. His eyebrows rose when he saw the estimated value of the collection. Unbelievable. Why on earth would Clare Wingate loan her collection to a friend? Benefit or not? Thankfully, the collection had full insurance coverage. That lowered his heart rate some.
He’d do everything in his power to keep the collection safe, but couldn’t deny he’d be glad when the pieces were returned to their owner.
Tossing the fax onto his desk, Max leaned back in his chair and stacked his bootheels on the windowsill, taking a moment to contemplate the scene from his office window. From here, he had an unimpeded view of the beach and the Gulf waters. If he’d realized all the stress that went into starting his own security firm, he might have had second thoughts. He’d loved police work, being something of an adrenaline junkie, but when word of his grandmother’s bad heart had reached him he decided to come back to Florida.
Laverne Sanders had raised him after his father died and his mother couldn’t deal with a son who tended to get into mischief. He grinned. His grandmother’s kind description of his actions. Most people had plain-out called him trouble.
His old friend and mentor, the town police chief, called to inform Max that he’d assisted Gram after a fainting spell in the produce section of Winn Dixie. Apparently she’d been dealing with some health issues and hadn’t told Max because she didn’t want to worry him. He also found out her finances were a mess, so he came home to pitch in and help, whether she wanted him to or not. Each was all the family the other had. She’d always been rock solid for him, now he would take care of her.
Another reason to make sure his business became successful here in Cypress Pointe. Folks of this fine town might remember him as a hoodlum, but Gram knew better. The burden of proving he’d changed would be tough, but he’d always liked a good challenge.
She’d be miffed when she found out he’d turned down the groom position for the charity function, since she’d been telling him he needed to get out and meet people. Women people, to be exact.
Right now he had to concentrate on his security business. The longer he was in town, the more he realized the need here. And he would make himself indispensable. Even if it means volunteering for the wedding fashion show? The thought made him shudder, until one particular bewitching redhead came to mind.
Max had to admit, working undercover might be his only option to guard both the jewelry collection and the vintage gowns, but he wouldn’t give in easily. He ran a hand through his hair and drank the last of his coffee. Gone stone-cold again, along with his mood. The more he thought about Miss Barclay—which he’d done pretty much nonstop since she’d waltzed into his office, dragging the past with her—the more he vowed to prove himself to the folks of Cypress Pointe. He rose and walked to the outer office to get another mug of coffee just as Blanche breezed through the door.
“I’m back, boss.”
“I could have used you about two hours ago.”
“Why?”
“I had a visitor try to talk me into volunteering as a groom at that charity function.”
She stopped just inside the threshold, closing the door behind her. The middle-aged control freak with short, spiky blond hair regarded him with an amused tilt of her lips as he explained Miss Barclay’s visit. “I’m gone for the morning, and this place falls apart.”
“You don’t even know the half of it.” He told her how he turned Lilli down flat. “She pretty much ran out of here.”
“After such a heartfelt refusal? What a shocker.”
Max scowled at his secretary,
not missing the sarcasm in her tone.
“Hey, I agreed to security. Nothing more.”
“Even if it means spending time with a pretty, young, single woman?”
“How do you know all that?”
“Please, you’ve forgotten that this is a small town.” Blanche grinned. “Remind me never to leave you alone again.”
He scowled at her.
She shook her head as she crossed the room to her desk. “Really, though, you should take advantage of these events. Look at it more as a business opportunity and less as getting wrangled to volunteer for Celeste.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Max, you were under the mistaken belief that you can say no to this event. I know those historical society ladies. They’re going to figure out a way to con you into volunteering, and they won’t stop until you give in. And the chief warned you. Celeste Barclay expects results.”
“She didn’t ask me. Her daughter did.”
Blanche shrugged. “Doesn’t matter who did the asking. It’s town tradition to volunteer and we all know what happens when you buck tradition.”
“I don’t.”
“You don’t get any business. Trust me on this.”
“Like I have time for ridiculous stuff like escorting fake brides down the country club aisle,” he grumbled. “I’m going to be working that night.”
Blanche ignored him. “Think of Jake Riley and the animals at the shelter. How would he feel if you refused?”
He stared at her. “He’s a dog. He doesn’t care.”
“Honey, there’s just some things that are implied and this is one of them.”
Shaking his head, he raised an eyebrow at the petite, bossy secretary. “This is crazy.”
“This is Cypress Pointe.”
No matter what he decided, this had all the signs of a disaster in the making.
Blanche crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry, Max. You’ll have to go.”
