“You’re being sensible,” Pallas told her. “I admire that.”
Bethany leaned close to Natalie. “I so want to be her when I grow up.”
“Me, too.”
“Next subject,” Wynn said, eyeing them. “So, Silver, how’s it going with your trailers?”
Silver sipped her soda, then laughed. “That was subtle, but sure. Let’s talk about me. I’m still drooling over the two Airstreams I found. I’ve filled out two bank loan applications and now I wait to see what they say.” She looked at Bethany. “How’s life back in El Bahar?”
Bethany looked oddly guilty for a second before throwing herself back on the blanket and staring at the sky. “My parents are making me crazy,” she said dramatically. “It’s the marriage thing.”
“Which frequently comes after an engagement,” Natalie pointed out.
“I know, I know. I get it. There is the complication that my dad is who he is.”
“The king of El Bahar?” Silver asked. “Is that the problem?”
“Yes.” Bethany sat up. “Where do we have the wedding? How many millions of diplomats and the like get invited? How formal does it have to be before my mother starts worrying that we’re doing it wrong? It’s not just that I’m his only daughter, but my brothers are so much younger. It’s going to be years before we have another royal wedding. I keep thinking that eloping would be so much easier.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Pallas said lightly. “Even my brother has accepted the reality of who you are. Maybe it’s time for you to do the same.”
“Is Cade going to get a title when you’re married?” Natalie asked. “Will he be a prince or a duke or something?”
“A prince. At least, that’s the plan. It’s quite the delicate negotiation.”
Pallas sighed. “I’m so glad Nick and I ran away to Italy to get married. It was beautiful and perfect and I will treasure those memories always.”
Bethany whimpered. “Why are you rubbing that in?”
“A future sister-in-law’s prerogative.”
“How are you feeling?” Natalie asked Pallas. “You’re eating more.”
“I’m so much better. Thanks for asking. My body has accepted the pregnancy, at least for now, and I’m spending much less time heaving up my guts. Fingers crossed it continues.”
“And with that appetizing note,” Wynn murmured as everyone laughed.
The lunch went on another hour. When it was time for them all to leave, they helped carry everything back to the animal preserve offices. Natalie hung back to talk to Silver for a second.
“I wanted to let you know I’m not pregnant,” she said when the others had left. “I saw my doctor and I’m on birth control. You were great and I appreciate the support.”
“Thanks for letting me know. I wondered, but then when I didn’t hear anything, I figured all was well.”
“It is now.” Natalie shook her head. “I got off lucky. I know that. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Good.” Silver hugged her. “Having a baby changes everything. It’s a huge decision that should be made thoughtfully.”
There was something in the way she said the words, Natalie thought, then told herself she was imagining things.
* * *
RONAN STEPPED OUT of the shower in the studio bathroom. He’d put in a long day of work and was pleased with the progress being made on his commission. Things were going so well he was actually a little ahead of schedule.
There’d been a change in his work, he thought as he dried off and started to dress. He was more focused. He could clearly see what needed to be done. It had been a long time since he’d been so inspired.
He knew he had Natalie to thank for that. Not just being with her, but also being around her. She was an open, gentle spirit. She saw the best in people and somehow she’d managed to share a little of that with him. She’d made him see that he needed to be with his brothers, needed their energy to unleash his own creative forces. Which all sounded way too out there, but it was true.
He’d missed Mathias and Nick. Had missed working with them. When they were around, he was less in his head, which was probably much better for everyone.
He hung his towel, then walked back into the studio, only to find Natalie waiting for him. She shifted her weight impatiently.
“Finally,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door. “You took forever.”
“It wasn’t five minutes.”
“Really? Because it felt like at least ten.” She walked over to his truck and waited for him to open the passenger door.
“I take it we’re going somewhere.”
“Duh. To the recycling center. We have to get moving on our bridge piece.”
“Nick, Mathias and I have it handled. We’re using the car as the basis and the theme is ‘coming and going.’ You don’t need to worry about it. You’re busy with your own stuff.”
“I finished the flowers for the wedding and I’m working on a mixed-media piece to clear my head before I start on the flowers for Atsuko, so I have time. Not to be too judgy, but what you guys have done is okay but it needs pizzazz.”
“Aka junk?”
“Not junk.” She settled on the passenger seat. “Dazzle.”
“Uh-huh. I’ve seen your dazzle before and I’m not sure we should be flashing that in public.”
She flushed and laughed. He circled around to the driver’s side and they were off to the county trash and recycling center on the far side of the animal preserve.
Happily Inc had one of the most successful recycling programs in the country. All trash was sorted and nearly all of it was recycled, sold or composted. Only a tiny fraction went into the landfill.
The food waste was combined with the droppings from the animals at the preserve into an excellent fertilizer that was sold at cost. Many of the farmers in central California had banded together to hire a truck to deliver the fertilizer to their farms. The material was organic and of a much higher quality than anything they could buy elsewhere, and by working together, they kept costs down.
He bypassed the poo storage and circled around to the recycling center. It was a busy place. Ed and Ted Lund, two brothers interested in waste management and saving animals, had contracts with two of California’s largest prisons. Through a work-release program, former inmates learned everything from the ins and outs of working at a recycling facility to how to repair small appliances and discarded furniture. The repaired items were sold in a very busy store and proceeds went back into upgrading the dump.
Natalie walked through the store without glancing at anything and passed through an open doorway with a sign saying Free above it.
Of course, Ronan thought, telling himself he shouldn’t be surprised. He would guess she was also a big fan of garage sales and “free to good home” items left on curbs.
She was nothing if not methodical. Natalie grabbed a shopping basket and started on the left side of the room, slowly making her way up and down the aisles. She stopped at what looked like the wheels from a couple of old wheelbarrows and picked up one of them.
“It fits the ‘coming and going’ theme,” she said. “Too on the nose?”
“Let’s make it a maybe.”
“I’m hoping for door handles or hinges.”
“Why?”
She looked at him. “Because I have a feeling. I think they’d work well and the material could withstand the weather. Ronan, seriously, you have to be willing to use your imagination.”
“Okay, door hinges and handles. Got it.”
She eyed him. “Don’t just go buy them. It wouldn’t be the same.”
“Hey, would I do that?”
“In a heartbeat.”
She was right, of course, but he wasn’t going to admit it. They found a clock face that wa
s missing several numbers. Natalie picked it up and hugged it as if it were golden treasure.
“This is going to work really well,” she told him. “We’re off to a great start.”
“You like doing this, don’t you?”
“Sure. It’s fun. You never know what you’re going to find. Even if there isn’t a lot of stuff for the bridge project, I may find something for my next art piece. I’m in flower mode right now but that could change.”
She picked up an old pie tin and he wasn’t the least bit surprised when she slipped it into her basket. He took the basket from her.
“Let me carry that for you, pretty lady.”
She flashed him a smile. “Thank you. Isn’t this fun? My mom and I used to do this all the time when I was a kid. We’d go to flea markets and church bazaars. Oh, and library sales. It made the teachers at school go totally insane when she would start ripping up the picture books for art projects. In the end, she had to tear them up at home so the teachers wouldn’t get upset.”
“I didn’t know your mom was a teacher.”
Natalie looked at him, obviously confused. “She wasn’t. She was an artist. Why would you think she was a teacher?”
Now it was his turn to not know what they were talking about. “You said the teachers got upset when she ripped up books for an art project. Why was she at school if she wasn’t a teacher?”
Natalie’s expression cleared. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t explain that well, did I? My mom was kind of well-known in our little community. She volunteered at the elementary school. She came in once a month and taught an art class to two or three different grades. She loved doing it.”
“You enjoyed having her with you at school,” he guessed.
“I did. I got to show her off and all my friends were impressed. My mom always said that art was an important way to expand the mind. It wasn’t about ability but being able to think in different ways. To have tangible proof that there are dozens of ways to solve a single problem.”
She rushed forward. “Look! Forks.”
Sure enough, there was a pile of battered forks. Each of them had at least one tine missing. Ronan would have passed them over but Natalie sorted through them and chose five that she carefully put in the basket.
“I can’t believe all the great stuff they have here,” she said happily.
“Me, either.”
She poked his arm. “You’re lying and we all know it, but I don’t care what you think. This is fun.”
He looked at her. “It’s fun for me, too.”
Being with her, listening to her talk. He didn’t care about junk except that she wanted it. But what she’d said about art was interesting. He wondered if they were still able to teach it in schools or if money was too tight. Were there still art teachers? He was a part of the local community now. Shouldn’t he know stuff like that?
They continued to examine every object—or rather Natalie examined and he dutifully held the basket. She found three broken license plates that she had to have, the back of a metal chair and two sprinkler heads.
“Treasures, every one,” he said as they walked to the exit.
“Mock me all you want, but you’ll see.”
She paused to put five dollars in a can by the doorway. Above it a sign said Donations Welcome.
Natalie looked at him. “I can’t just take it. I can’t. So I always leave something.”
Of course she did, he thought as he pulled a twenty from his jeans pocket and surreptitiously dropped it in the can as he went by. Natalie couldn’t possibly take without giving back. Even from a room where everything was free.
What she’d said about art in schools had stuck in his head and refused to budge. He reminded himself that he didn’t have anywhere near the time to teach art to a bunch of kids, and even if he did, he had no idea if anyone would be interested in him helping. And if they were, he had neither the skills nor the experience to design an art project that a bunch of eight-year-olds would enjoy or learn from. He should just write a check and be done with it. Only he couldn’t help thinking writing a check might not always be the answer.
* * *
“I’M RENEE.”
Natalie shook hands with the petite redhead and did her best not to feel intimidated. There was something about Pallas’s new assistant that made her feel instantly inadequate, not to mention slightly out of place and badly dressed.
Maybe it was the fact that Renee was, well, perfect. Her dark red hair hung perfectly straight down her back; her thick bangs were perfectly even. The black suit was professional, well fitted and conservative, as if designed not to draw attention. Even her patent leather pumps were polished, contemporary and had a killer five-inch heel. In a word—perfect.
“Pallas told me you agreed to step in and help with the movie wedding.” Renee consulted her tablet before smiling at Natalie. “She’s been doing way too much for a woman dealing with her first pregnancy and all that morning sickness. I know she appreciates you providing support. I’m looking forward to working with you, as well, as I settle into my new position.”
There was a slight formality to her speech. Natalie couldn’t tell if it was because English hadn’t been her first language or if she’d gone to a really demanding high school. Maybe a private one where everyone had to use multisyllable words or risk being kicked out.
“It’s been fun,” Natalie said, then wanted to groan. Couldn’t she have come up with something less dweeby than that?
“I’ve been working in wedding planning for a couple of years now,” Renee told her. “In Beverly Hills. Those weddings were all very formal and traditional. I’m pleased to have the opportunity to experience events that are more relaxed and fun. The idea of a wedding based on a movie will provide great memories for the couple to share. I hadn’t seen the movie myself, but I watched it over the weekend.”
“What did you think?”
Renee hesitated before smiling. “Let’s just say I’m glad it’s so meaningful to them.”
Natalie laughed. “That is a very diplomatic way of saying it wasn’t your thing.”
“I’m more a foreign-film kind of girl.”
“Oh, really?” On purpose? Natalie tried to find common ground. “The guy I’ve been seeing loves action movies, but I’m willing to overlook that.”
Pallas joined them. “Oh, good. You’ve met. Sorry I’m running a little late. I actually got hungry and made myself a sandwich. Yay, progress.”
“You’re looking great,” Natalie said, noting her friend had some color in her cheeks and she didn’t look as tired. “I’m glad you’re feeling so much better.”
“Me, too. All right. The bride and groom have just pulled into the parking lot. Silver texted to say she’ll be here in minutes, and the parents are waiting on the conference room screen. Shall we?”
They walked toward the conference room. Natalie hung back a little, letting Renee go ahead. Pallas moved next to Natalie and lowered her voice.
“What do you think of Renee?”
Natalie looked at the petite redhead. “She scares me a little, but she seems nice. Is she as accomplished as she appears?”
“More. I know what you mean about the intimidation factor, but she knows her stuff. Sometimes I think she knows it better than me and she’s what? Two years younger. Ack!”
They reached the conference room just then and went to greet the bride and groom. Silver arrived and Pallas connected the parents for the meeting.
“Are we ready?” Pallas asked as everyone took a seat.
Ellen squeezed Barry’s hand. “I’m so excited about all this,” she said happily. “We’re talking menus and finalizing our plans. It’s starting to be real.”
“Very real,” Pallas told her with a smile. “Renee, why don’t you tell our bride and groom what you’ve been working on?”
R
enee nodded, then glanced at Silver. “I’ve been consulting with our master mixologist and we have a few more exciting cocktail ideas for you to consider. Obviously the signature cocktail needs to be green, both for the Joker and Poison Ivy—two excellent and well-developed characters. Silver and I have been discussing infusing vodka with different flavors and then using an organic food coloring to get the shade of green we want.”
“I’ve been trying out a few ideas,” Silver said. “It’s going to be really easy and we can work with different ingredients.”
“That sounds great.” Ellen beamed. “I’m excited to try everything.”
“We’ll set up a tasting right after the meeting.”
“Not too much tasting,” Ellen’s mother said from the screen. “It’s the middle of the day.”
Ellen rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mom.”
Natalie tried not to smile.
Renee checked her tablet. “I have a vendor who will make custom tortilla chips. I’ve checked and a bat shape is no problem. That allows us to consider a wonderful chip and dip station. We can have the traditional salsas and guacamole, of course, but also things like crab dip or artichoke dip. I wrote down some thoughts.”
She passed around sheets of paper. Natalie blanched when she saw the neatly organized spreadsheet complete with a floor plan for the reception space and a flow for the guests. Pallas caught her eye and mouthed, “I know!”
Renee turned to Natalie. “I’ve been admiring your flowers. They’re lovely and I appreciate that you used comic book print to make them. Taking that one more step, a trend these days is to serve finger food in rolled-up paper.” She turned to Ellen. “The notes from the previous meeting mention that you’re interested in a lot of finger foods. What if we used the comic book paper for that, as well? It would be so charming and fun.”
Renee was on a roll. She shared over a dozen other ideas that all had the bride and groom giddy with excitement. Pallas seemed relieved and Silver was scribbling furiously every time a drink was mentioned.
Why Not Tonight Page 20
