by Kay Correll
“Well, he can tell them you’re not dating, but they might not listen.”
“I’m sure it will all blow over soon. He’s probably dating someone important or famous in Hollywood.”
“There are rumors about him and Shawna Jacobson.”
She took a sip of coffee. “And since when do you keep up with celebrity gossip?”
“You think I didn’t check the guy out as soon as Ashley showed me the photo this morning?”
She smiled in spite of herself. Her big brother was always going to be overprotective. “Willie, don’t worry about me. I’m sure it will all be over. Maybe no one will even figure out who I am.”
“Hold on to that dream, sis. Gotta run. Call me if you need me.”
She set the phone down on the counter and walked out onto the deck. A gentle sea breeze drifted in from the ocean. She turned her face to the sun, bathing in its warmth. Maybe this whole thing would just be a non-starter. It wasn’t like it had been an actual date. Movie stars didn’t date people like her.
Merry pushed through the door of Coastal Creations minutes after Whitney opened the shop. “Whit, did you see all the photos of you online?”
Whitney sighed and sat on a stool behind the counter. “I did. Willie so kindly woke me up at the crack of dawn to inform me.”
“Good thing I brought coffee.” Merry handed her a cup.
Whitney figured she could use another cup after the morning she’d had. “Thanks.”
“So, I was reading online, and they’re all trying to figure out who you are. Won’t be long before someone tells them.”
“Maybe not?” She kept holding on to that hope, slim that it might be.
Merry tilted her head and scrunched up her face. “I could barely keep you sane when you got all that publicity from Shawna Jacobson about your shop, even though it turned out to be a very good thing for you. This might help the shop again, you know?”
“I’m not going to use my friendship with Rick to help the shop.”
The bell over the door rang and Lucille Sanderson popped into the shop carrying her dog, Princess, in her arms. “Whitney Layton, you went out with a movie star,” she said in a tone of total disbelief.
Which annoyed Whitney. “I went to dinner with Rick Nichols, yes.” Did everyone in town see the photos?
“Well, that’s just… amazing.”
“Why is it so amazing? Whit is a talented, beautiful woman.” Merry sprang to her defense.
“Oh, of course, she is, dear. It’s not often that one of our own dates someone famous.” Lucille petted Princess as she spoke, her perfectly manicured fingers threading through the dog’s fur.
“It wasn’t a date.” Whitney wondered how many times she’d have to repeat that statement and to how many people.
“You went out to dinner with him. That’s a date in my book.” Lucille nodded emphatically. “Did you have a good time? The article I saw said you went to that new trendy restaurant, Bistro Fifty.”
“The restaurant was nice.” She did not want to discuss her non-date with Lucille—or with anyone. “But it was a one-time thing.”
“If you say so, dear. But if it wasn’t a serious date, maybe we could fix him up with my grandniece, Maggie?” Lucille looked hopeful.
“I think he’s going to be busy with family stuff. He’s in town throwing a birthday gala for his grandmother.” Now, why had she given her any more information than absolutely necessary? She knew better than that. The whole town would know Rick’s business by this afternoon, if not before.
“Well, you might mention her to him. She is such a lovely girl.” Lucille turned to leave but glanced back over her shoulder. “Though, I still think your night out with him might be considered a date.”
She rolled her eyes as Lucille slipped out of the shop.
Merry grinned at her. “Lucille will be stopping to talk to everyone she sees today to make sure they know about those online photos of you.”
“Don’t I know it. And I was hoping it would all just blow over.”
“Don’t count on it, Whit.”
Rick slowly scrolled through his social media accounts on his computer. Photos of him and Whitney were plastered everywhere on various social media and news sites. He ran his fingers through his hair, then shut the laptop with a resounding click. He’d forgotten how things like this could get so out of hand. The media had him paired up and serious with Whitney after just one night.
As if she’d even want to speak to him again, much less be seen with him. He couldn’t blame her. The media attention was his cross to bear, not hers. So far, he’d read no inkling that anyone had found out her name or anything about her. That much was good.
His phone rang. He glanced at it and saw a photo of his grandmother flash on the screen. He snatched the cell phone off the table. “Grandmere, how are you?”
“I’m fine, Richard. Are you enjoying your time in Indigo Bay?”
“I am. You’re right, it’s a charming little town. Things are coming along great for your big birthday party.”
“I told you not to make a fuss about it.”
Empty words. Rick knew darn well that his grandmother loved to have people fuss over her. “We want to do this for you.”
“Well, you’re sweet to go early and get things all set up. I have no doubt everything will be perfect. Besides, I know you needed a bit of a vacation. Now, do you like The Pink Ladies?”
“They are… pink. And huge. I’m staying in Pink Lady One.”
“Did you get the turret room? It’s so nice. I don’t pick that room anymore to stay in, though I love it. I don’t like climbing all those stairs anymore.”
“I did choose that room. I have the big master suite on the main floor all set up for you.”
“Thank you, dear. Oh, and did I hear something about you have a new young woman in your life? My assistant said she saw photos of you with someone new.”
“She’s just a friend. She helped me out with some… details… for the gala.” He wasn’t about to admit to his grandmother anything about the Pavilion Problem.
“Oh, is she from Indigo Bay? You should invite her to my party.”
“I don’t know if she’d want to come. She wouldn’t really know anyone.”
“She’d know you. If she’s a friend of yours, I’d love to meet her. You should invite her over for drinks next week after I get to town. Promise me you’ll do that.”
He’d never been able to say no to his grandmother. “Okay, I’ll see if she’ll stop by.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Bye.” He set his phone back on the table. It seemed like the whole world knew about his date with Whitney last night. The date that wasn’t even a date. It was a thank you.
Chapter 7
To heck with being concerned about what he was eating this week. It was going to be stressful enough without adding anything else to worry about. He grabbed his cell phone and headed outside. He was going to reward himself with another one of those fabulous ice cream cones from The Trixie Cone. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was rewarding himself for. He hadn’t gotten through much of his to-do list. He’d mainly browsed the internet looking for all the places photos from last night had turned up and feeling guilty for putting Whitney in the limelight.
His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket.
Shawna.
He couldn’t face talking to her right now. She’d evidently seen the photos, too. He slid the phone back in his pocket, feeling only slightly guilty for ignoring her call.
He entered the Trixie Cone and the woman behind the counter smiled at him. “Ah, Whitney’s friend. You’re back.”
“I am.”
The woman stared at him for a moment. “I usually remember faces. You look familiar. I mean besides being in here with Whitney.”
Ah, his curse and blessing. Not quite famous enough for everyone to recognize him, but famous enough when some people did. “I probably just
have one of those faces,” he answered noncommittally.
“What can I get you today?”
“I’ll have a butter pecan cone. Two scoops.”
Just then the door to the shop opened and Whitney entered. She stopped when she saw him standing there, then a small smile—very small—crossed her face. “Hello, Rick.”
“Rick. That’s it.” Trixie snapped her fingers. “Rick Nichols, right?”
Whitney walked up beside him. “Yes, he’s Rick Nichols, but he’s trying to keep it quiet around town, okay?”
“Sure thing.” Trixie handed him his cone. “What can I get for you, Whitney?”
“Double chocolate fudge.”
“You want to sit at one of the tables?” He wasn’t sure if she’d agree to it, but took the chance.
“I… I guess so.” She didn’t look very certain of her answer.
They took their ice cream to the far corner table and sat down. He looked at her as she concentrated diligently on her cone, basically ignoring he was sitting right across from her. “So, I take it you found out our photos are everywhere.”
She looked up at him and sighed. “I did.”
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Well, of course it is. I’m the reason it happened.”
She gave him that tiny smile again. “Okay, so it is all your fault.”
He laughed. “Blame accepted.”
“I’ve had a constant stream of people coming into the shop today to ask about it. I thought I’d escape to Trixie’s and indulge in chocolate.”
“Is it working?”
“It’s starting to.” Her blue eyes twinkled.
Whitney relaxed a bit and enjoyed her ice cream. She didn’t know why she was letting those silly photos get to her.
The door to Trixie’s opened again and Vicki Holloway and her daughter, Mia, walked in. Vicki looked over at Whitney and her eyes widened in unmistakable amazement. Whether it was more in seeing Rick or seeing her with Rick, she wasn’t sure. She ducked her head and concentrated on the cone, hoping Victoria would just leave them alone.
No such luck.
Vicki and Mia walked up to their table. “Well, Whitney. This is a surprise. Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” Vicki flipped her hair behind her shoulder and showered Rick with a glorious smile.
“Vicki, Mia, this is Rick. Rick, this is Vicki Holloway—I mean, Tanner—and her daughter, Mia.”
“Whitney, you know no one calls me Vicki anymore. It’s Victoria.”
“Sorry, hard habit to break.” She turned to Rick. “I’ve known Victoria since we were kids.”
Rick smiled at Vicki-Victoria. “Nice to meet you.” He then turned to Mia. “So, Mia. What flavor of ice cream is your favorite?”
She gave him a bashful smile. “I like Miss Trixie’s homemade vanilla.”
Victoria let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “I’ve tried everything to get this girl to experiment a bit, but she insists on vanilla every single time.”
Rick winked at the girl. “You know what? I get butter pecan every single time. It’s my favorite, so I figure why change?”
Mia grinned at his kind support of her only-one-choice-ever of ice cream.
Vicki ignored Rick’s comment and the fact he gave her no sympathy for her long-suffering over having a child that only liked one flavor of ice cream. “So, I saw you two were out at that new restaurant in Charleston. We really do have to go over and try it out soon. There just aren’t many good places to eat here in Indigo Bay.” Every word of Vicki’s came out as haughty indictment of the town. She faced Rick while she spoke, ignoring Whitney completely.
“It was nice. But to be honest, I love Sweet Caroline’s here in town.”
Whitney wanted to jump up and hug him for coming to the town’s defense. She didn’t know why she let Vicki get to her.
“Well, if you want simple food, I guess so.” Though Vicki shook her head no as she said it. “Anyway, I heard you’re having a party for your grandmother’s birthday. Too bad it’s the same day as the Ashland Belle Society’s auction at the pavilion here in town. Maybe you’ll have time to stop by, though?”
“I’ll be pretty busy the day of the party.”
“That’s a shame. Maybe you’d have something to donate? We’re raising funds for the school.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“You know, while you’re in town, I’d love to have you over for dinner. My cook can do the most exquisite Southern cuisine. Not simple, it’s more Southern with a twist.” Vicki flashed her patented charming belle smile at Rick. “I’d love to show you some real Southern hospitality.”
She wondered if Vicki could say Southern any more times in a row.
“Well, thank you for the invite, but I’m afraid I’m going to be very busy. My family is coming to town and I have the party to finish getting set up.”
Vicki frowned. “Well, that is a shame.”
She was insanely happy Rick had turned down Vicki’s offer.
“Can we get our ice cream now?” Mia tugged at her mother’s hand.
“Mia, how many times have I told you not to interrupt the grownups when they are talking?”
“Sorry.” Mia looked down at her feet.
“Well, Whitney and I were just leaving, so I bet it’s time for you to get your ice cream.” Rick smiled at the girl and she looked at him shyly. “It was nice meeting you, Mia. And you, too, Vicki.”
“Victoria,” Vicki corrected. She took Mia’s hand and led her away.
“You called her Vicki on purpose.” Whitney smothered a grin.
He winked. “Yes, yes I did.”
They escaped into the afternoon sunshine and left Vicki and Mia inside The Trixie Cone.
“You certainly have some… interesting… people here in Indigo Bay.” Rick laughed, aware that Vicki had been flirting with him right in front of Whitney, not that Vicki had seemed to care what Whitney thought about that.
“Vicki has always been her own biggest fan. She decided, sometime after high school, that Victoria was a fancier name. She’ll always be Vicki to me, though.”
“To me, too.” He laughed again.
“You were very nice to Mia.”
“She’s a cute kid.”
“Poor Mia. She seems to never do anything quite right in her mother’s eyes.”
Rick could relate to that. He felt a sudden kinship to the young girl, trying to please her mother, never knowing when she was going to misstep.
“I should head back to the shop,” Whitney interrupted his thoughts.
“Before you go, I was wondering…” He cocked his head and gathered his courage. “I was wondering if you’d like to go have dinner with me tonight.”
She stood in front of him, a stunned expression plastered on her face. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I was thinking something a bit less… photographic.” He grinned at her. “Like maybe I could fix you dinner at The Pink Lady. I’m pretty handy with a grill.”
“You want to cook for me?” Her tone bordered on incredulous.
“Don’t sound so surprised. I have other talents besides acting.” He looked at her, hoping for some sign that she’d say yes to his invite. “So, how about you say yes? I promise there won’t be all the media attention we had last night. Just a nice, quiet meal.”
“You don’t have to do that. You’ve already done the thank you dinner thing.” Whitney frowned.
“I think that dinner was more than you bargained for. Let me do this for you.” He scrambled to come up with more reasons to convince her. “Besides, I don’t really feel like eating alone. You’ll be doing me a favor. How about it?”
He could see the exact moment he’d convinced her in the depths of her blue eyes. The blue eyes that mesmerized him and made him want to see them light up with her smile.
An unsure expression still covered her face. “Okay… What time should I come over?”
&nb
sp; “I could pick you up,” he offered.
“No, I’ll just walk over.”
“How about seven?”
“Okay, I’ll see you then.” Whitney turned and walked down the street toward Coastal Creations.
He grinned to himself and headed off to the market to buy groceries for dinner, whistling a tune under his breath.
Chapter 8
“Seriously, Merry. Why did he ask me out again?” Whitney tapped her phone to change it to speaker mode so she could talk to her friend and still get ready.
“Because he likes you?” Merry’s voice was filled with laughter. “You’re panicking about what to wear again, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not,” she lied as she stood in front of her closet at a loss.
“Wear that cute sundress you got a while ago. That teal one. It has some kind of floral print to it,” Merry commanded her.
She reached into the closet and pulled out the sundress. “This might work.”
“I gotta run, but Whit?”
“What?”
“No flip-flops.” Merry’s laugh came through the airways before the phone went silent.
She set the dress on the bed and dug around on the floor of her closet. She found a pair of simple white flats to wear. She got dressed, put on a bit of makeup, and surveyed herself in the mirror. Not bad. Not glamorous like a movie star, but okay for a small-town shop owner.
She glanced at her watch, then hurried to finish getting ready. She slipped out the door to the cottage with just enough time to walk over to the bay side of town. The closer she got to The Pink Ladies, the more nervous she got. Why had she said yes?
Before long she stood in front of Pink Lady One. The wide steps beckoned her, but she stood at the bottom of them, ignoring their call and gathering her courage. She looked both directions to see if anyone would notice her entering the house, especially anyone with a camera. Satisfied with the lack of prying eyes, she climbed the stairs and knocked on the commanding double door—bright pink, of course.
Within moments, Rick opened the door and stood with a kitchen towel over one shoulder. He wore khaki shorts and a blue shirt that brought out his eye color. He looked startlingly handsome and every bit the movie star.
