"Podunk? First of all, it's charming. And second, it isn't that small."
Her nostrils flared. "You agreed to follow me to Portland."
Clay took a deep breath. "No, you accepted your job at that fancy law firm and took it upon yourself to find me a job in the city."
"Most people would've been happy about that." Lauryn twisted a strand of her hair around her finger, making the flesh turn white. "You hate working in a cubicle. That job would've been a dream."
"I want to be an apprentice so I can learn how to run my own future business."
"You could do that in Portland."
"Lauryn, we'll still see each other on the weekends. I can hop on my bike and be there in no time flat." His stomach dropped when he remembered Dakota mentioning Saturdays. He and Lauryn would just have to deal with that when the time came—assuming that Lauryn didn't flip. Maybe he would only have to work a few hours on the weekends.
She rolled her eyes. "You don't get it."
"It's not like we're married. And this job won't be forever. I just need some actual real-world experience before I start my own gig—maybe in Portland."
Lauryn tapped her sparkly, turquoise nails on the table. "Seriously? You want a long-distance relationship?"
He leaned his elbows on the table and stared into her gray eyes. "We've done it before. Remember when I went to school around here and you were at Yale?"
"Ugh. Not that again. Please." She reached across the table and grasped his hand. Her skin was silky smooth and the scent of her flowery lotion drifted his way. It was the same one she'd been wearing since high school. She pleaded with her eyes. "Reconsider."
"We'll be fine. Look at everything we've gone through, and we're still together."
She pouted. "I don't want to do long distance again."
"Portland is just a short drive."
Lauryn shook her head.
"You know how I drive on my Ducati."
"Yeah, and I know how much you rake in with the speeding tickets, too."
He squeezed her hand. "All to see you that much sooner."
"When are you finally going to sell that thing?"
Clay's entire body bristled and he let go of her hand. "You know how much it means to me—how long I saved for it. It's one of the best bikes on the market."
She frowned and opened her mouth. She closed it and they sat in an awkward silence for a minute before she finally spoke. "Is this your way of trying to break up with me?"
His mouth dropped. "What? Where did that come from?"
Tears gleamed in her eyes and she held up her hand to her mouth. "We're pushing thirty and you haven't proposed."
Clay snorted. "Pushing thirty? Last I checked, we're both twenty-seven. That's hardly pushing thirty."
"But we've been together since high school. What are your plans for our future?"
His stomach twisted in knots. "You're the one who wanted to make sure we both had our careers firmly in place before we even thought about anything permanent. This new job, it's the next big stepping stone for me."
"Fine, whatever. Let's just order." She opened her menu and held it in front of her face.
"Nice," Clay muttered.
"I heard that."
"What do you want me to do? You were mad that I quit my job, now you're ticked that I have a new one."
"Forget it."
"Forget what?" he snapped.
Lauryn glared at him from above the menu. "Just order your food, okay?"
He bit back a rude comment and shoved the wine menu aside.
Renaldo returned with the crab cakes. "Are you ready to order?"
Clay glared at Lauryn's raised menu. "We're not ready. Can you bring us two waters with lemon?"
"Of course. I'll give you two a few more minutes." He walked away.
Lauryn gave him a hurt expression. "What happened to the wine?"
"I don't feel much like celebrating anymore." He glanced down at the menu.
"Whatever."
He glowered at her. "Exactly. Whatever."
She brought the menu back in front of her face.
Hardly the celebratory dinner he'd envisioned. Lauryn knew how to shut him out by being the royal ice queen.
Renaldo came back. "Are you ready to order now?"
Lauryn dropped her menu on the table and ordered, keeping her gaze averted from Clay.
When it was his turn to order, he went with his usual. He'd been in the mood to try something new, but it didn't seem to matter anymore.
After Renaldo left again, he and Lauryn ate the crab cakes in silence.
There was nothing lonelier than feeling alone when he was actually with her. And he was sick of it—the mind games when she didn't get her way. When she was like that, she treated him like the hired help rather than a boyfriend.
Clay leaned over the table and stared at Lauryn, though she was busy staring at her phone's screen. "Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you."
She looked up and glared at him, sending chills down his spine. "I already did."
"You don't want distance between us?"
Lauryn folded her arms. "It's bad enough that you won't move in with me. All my friends—"
"I don't care what anyone else does. Our boundaries are ours alone."
Her mouth curved down. "Yours, you mean. You and your small-town mentality."
"It's called morals. Look, if you want someone who will move in with you, there are plenty to choose from."
She slammed her palm on the table, making her water shake. "I don't want anyone else. Why else would I put up with your ridiculous high standards? You know what people call us?"
"Did I mention I don't care what people think?"
"The nun and the pope. A nun. Me!"
He couldn't help snickering. "That is far-fetched."
She narrowed her eyes. "I want to get married, and you want a long-distance relationship."
Clay stared at her. "Married? Whoa now. You're the one who—"
Lauryn folded her arms. "Try reading between the lines, would you?"
"Try just saying what you're really thinking. Are you serious? You really want me to propose? Your career is more imp—"
"Don't. Just don't. Tell me the truth. Do you see a future with me?"
His mouth nearly hit the floor. "Why do you think we're together? Why we've been together since prom?"
"Then why the new job in Enchantment Bay? I thought you were going to follow me wherever I went."
Clay took a deep breath. "I told you—"
"You'll ride up each weekend. What about during the week?"
"There's this thing called a phone. I know you've heard of it. You haven't stopped looking at yours since I told you about my new job—which you haven't even asked me about."
Lauryn gave him a double-take. "What?"
"Not one question. What is it? What will I be doing? Am I excited about it? Will it help to advance my career?"
Renaldo brought their meals to the table without a word.
"Thank you," Clay said.
Lauryn's nostrils flared. "Why would I ask about the job? You certainly didn't ask me about it before accepting, much less applying."
"It was rather sudden, and I did try calling you. You didn't answer."
"So? I knew I'd see you here."
"You still could've at least acknowledged my call with a text."
"And you could have texted me that you had big news, you know." She raised both brows, daring him to argue her point.
Clay took a deep breath. It was times like these that made becoming a monk seem like a plausible option.
He grabbed Lauryn's hand. She tried to jerk it away, but he held on tightly while looking into her eyes. "It's a temporary position at The Chateau."
Her expression softened. "The wedding venue?"
"Exactly. Forty hours a week, all I'll be able to think about is holy matrimony."
Lauryn's eyes widened. "You'll get the bug. I mean, inspiration."<
br />
"It's possible." He sighed.
"Then on top of all that, you can take whatever business stuff you learn and apply it to any other work."
He tried to smile. "To Portland or Seattle, or anywhere."
She tilted her head. "What's the matter?"
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"You're smiling, but your dimple's hiding. Are you hiding something?"
"I'm just a little surprised. You can't blame me. You went from pissed to excited on a dime. I didn't even know you were thinking about marriage. You're always saying how lame it is."
"Weddings, Clay. All that money for a big ceremony that lasts a day—and more people divorce than don't. Big weddings are stupid and a waste of money. May as well just set it aside for the divorce attorneys."
Clay stared at her. "Are you for real?"
Lauryn frowned. "Did that come off as harsh?"
"You could say that."
"Sorry. I see angry couples all the time. I've lost faith in the wedding ritual. It's so outdated, you know? Get a justice of the peace to sign the document, get a decent prenuptial, and call it good."
He stared at her, wondering what had happened to the person he'd fallen in love with.
She frowned. "I did it again, didn't I?"
Clay nodded.
"Obviously, I believe in us. That's why I want you in Portland with me. But if this new job will get you thinking about our marriage, I'm all for it."
"At least you approve now." He smiled ruefully. The only reason she had any interest in his new job was because of how she thought it would benefit her.
"Well, yes. You never told me what it was, Clay. For all I knew, you were working at some dumb construction company. You totally have to work on how you present things. That's something to keep in mind with your job."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he muttered and cut into his steak.
"Oh, you know I don't mean it like that. This is definitely the opportunity of a lifetime."
He stared into her gray eyes. They seemed lighter now.
Renaldo walked by.
"Excuse me," Lauryn said.
He stopped and turned to her. "Yes, ma'am?"
"Can you please bring by two glasses of Dom Pérignon? We're celebrating tonight."
Three
Dakota arrived at The Chateau early on Monday morning. She wanted to be prepared to train Clay.
Or was she excited about seeing him? She shook her head free of that thought. He was there to help her with Charlotte's big wedding.
Strictly business.
Oh, but that dimple… And the way he pulled his hair behind his ears.
Stop.
She set the alarm on her car and walked into the building, her head held high.
Marina walked by as Dakota came in. She stopped and tugged on her dark hair. "What are you doing in so early today?"
"We have a new hire."
"Please tell me it's another kitchen staffer." Marina's dark brown eyes widened.
"Why?" Dakota asked.
Marina tugged on her headband. "With all the extra weddings, it's short staffed in there again."
"Already?" Dakota took a deep breath. "You're right. We need two more chefs, would you say?"
"At least."
"Okay, let's make this happen today."
Relief flooded Marina's face. "Thank you. I have five bridal consultations today."
"Where's Aria?" Dakota glanced around, not seeing her other assistant.
"On the phone with one of the brides who has…" Marina paused, seeming to search for the perfect word.
"Gone bridezilla?" Dakota offered.
Marina nodded. "Essentially."
"I'll check on her. You look into finding additional chefs."
"Gladly. Thank you." Marina pulled out her phone and headed down the hall.
"No problem. Oh, and Marina?"
She turned around. "Yes?"
"Do you think you and Aria are ready to head things up if I go out of town?"
Marina's face paled. "Handle things on our own?"
Dakota chuckled. "That's the idea."
"You'll keep your phone on you?"
"At all times." Dakota patted her purse.
"I'm sure we'll be fine. Where are you going?"
"My cousin is having wedding issues down in Kittle Falls. I tried helping over the phone, but I think it's going to require an actual visit."
Marina's mouth twitched. "Sure it doesn't have anything to do with looking at summer homes?"
Dakota laughed. "I haven't made my dream a secret, have I?"
"Nope. Have fun."
"Thanks, but it'll have to wait until I train the new guy."
Marina arched a brow. "New guy?"
Dakota nodded. "My new assistant."
"Is he cute?"
Her spine straightened. "We don't mix business and pleasure here."
"Doesn't mean I can't enjoy some eye candy."
Dakota waved her off. "Find some chefs, would you?"
Marina laughed and headed back down the hall.
Dakota headed for her office.
Aria's voice trailed from one of the rooms. "We have our own florist for the venue and she—No, I assure you…"
She found Aria and whispered, "Everything okay?"
Aria gave her two thumbs up and spoke into the phone again. "If you want to bring in your own flowers, that's fine, but we have a deal with this one and she gives us unbeatable rates."
Dakota was tempted to take the phone from Aria and deal with the bride herself, but that was why she brought Aria on—her immeasurable patience and people skills. She went into her office and took a deep breath. Even though some of what they had to deal with was stressful, she loved it.
Soon, she'd enjoy it even more once Clay took over much of the stuff she hated and yet had staunchly refused to let anyone else touch for so long. She needed to prepare one of the empty offices for him. Probably the one next door to hers, just in case he had any questions.
She pulled out files of paperwork. Half the stuff would need to go into Clay's office, and she didn't feel like lugging it all over right then. She glanced around the room, unsure how to even manage the task.
"Is everything okay?" came a deep voice from her doorway.
Dakota spun around.
Clay stood there, looking even better than he had the other evening. He grinned and pulled on his hair. "Looks like I arrived just in time. What's the problem?"
She fluffed her hair. "No problem. Just trying to figure out what to put in your office."
He put a laptop bag on a table, slid off his jacket, and hung it on a hook. "Let's not worry about that yet. We'll just start in here. Then when I'm ready, I'll move everything over." His muscles flexed as he adjusted his short-sleeved dress shirt.
Dakota's breath caught. "It's all business," she whispered to herself.
"What?" Clay pulled some of his hair behind his ear.
Her pulse raced. She needed to focus—and fast. "Just trying to figure out where we should start, though given your recommendations, you'll have no problem with any of this. It'll just be a matter of learning the particular ways we do things around here."
Clay reached for his coat, pulled a tablet from it, and slid a stylus behind his ear. "I'm all set, boss." The dimple seemed to dance as he smiled.
Dakota cleared her throat. "Perfect. Why don't we start with the filing system? I keep all current clients in this drawer." She slid it out from the filing cabinet. "In the lower ones are the previous clients."
"What about prospective clients?" Clay asked.
"Over here in a different one." Dakota headed for the other side of the room. "Until they've paid their deposit, their paperwork stays in here."
"For how long?" Clay slid the stylus around the tablet's screen.
"I give them a year. After that, if they still choose us, they have to fill everything out again."
Clay nodded. "One year. Got it. What do
you keep track of online?"
"Most everything, actually. But there are a lot of signatures needed, hence the files."
"If I can find a way to turn all this,"—he gestured toward the filing cabinets—"online, would you let me?"
"Let you? I'd probably throw you a party."
He laughed. "Not necessary." Clay slid his stylus all over the screen. "What else should I know?"
Dakota went around behind her desk and opened her laptop. "Let me show you our computer systems." She typed in her password and opened the program. "This is the main one."
Clay brought over a chair and took notes as she showed him the ins and the outs of the program.
"You know, I could come up with something twice as efficient as this."
She arched a brow. "Come up with a software program?"
He laughed. "No, but my friend, Andy, could come up with something. I can throw something together in a spreadsheet if you want."
"Well, uh, whatever you want to do."
"It'll be fun."
"I'll take your word on it. If you can come up with something to make things flow smoother, I'm not going to complain. In the meantime, I'm going to focus on planning weddings. That's what I consider a good time. The only thing better than setting up a party is actually going to it."
He nodded, but didn't say anything. Maybe he was the type who wasn't into big gatherings. The strong, silent type, perhaps.
Not that Dakota cared. Clay was her assistant, and also, she was taking a break from dating. She didn't need any more Tates in her life. What she needed to focus on was getting Clay acquainted with The Chateau's way of doing business and then getting herself to Kittle Falls and helping with the latest Hunter wedding.
She relaxed and showed him the ins and outs of the program, then finally handed him a stack of files she'd been avoiding.
"I'm telling you, I can come up with something twice as effective. There are so many steps that can be cut."
Dakota leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. "And how long will that take you?"
He scrunched his face, looking deep in thought. "A few days, maybe. You'll be shocked at the time—and money—it will save you. I don't blame you for hating this system."
She glanced back and forth between him and the pile. It was tempting, but did she dare give him three days of potentially working with nothing to show for it? What if his skills weren't what he claimed? On the other hand, what if they were?
Bayside Evenings Page 2
