“Then my work here is done.” He grinned at her and stepped back. “I think I’ll go find my date and rock this very fine party with her.”
Hayley was headed across the room to where Jon-Michael was shooting the breeze with former band members when she heard his father’s voice say from over at the bar, “…’ly saying this is a ridiculous venue for an engagement party when he belongs to a perfectly good country club. I can only imagine what people are saying. I assume this was his fiancé’s idea. If I had had any idea my son would end up marrying her I would have put an end to the little charity-case spending so much time with Kurstin.”
She spun around to tell Richard once and for all where he could shove his supercilious, smugly superior arrogance. But Mildred Bayerman beat her to the punch.
“Richard,” the older woman said coolly, “Jon-Michael is smart, charming and a goddamn business asset. He’s dragging Olivet’s into the 21st century. More importantly, he is a fine man. If anyone is the charity case here it’s…well.” Shaking her head she cut herself off, but gave Richard a pitying look.
Hayley watched Mildred collect her purse from the bar and slide off the stool she’d occupied. The older woman turned away from Jon-Michael’s dad.
And saw Hayley standing there.
To Hayley’s surprise, Mildred’s cheeks turned pink as if she, who according to Jon-Michael was one of the fiercest women in the business, were embarrassed. Touched, Hayley walked up to the board member and pulled her into a heartfelt hug. “Thank you,” she said in Mildred’s ear. “Richard has needed to hear that for a very long time. Maybe coming from someone he respects as much as Jon-Michael says he does you, it will even sink in.” Setting Mildred loose, she stepped back and gave the older woman a wry smile. “But I won’t hold my breath.”
“Hayleeeeey!”
Whipping around at the sound of her best friend’s voice, she saw Kurstin bearing down on her from across the room, an unbuttoned Burberry wool and cashmere trench coat flapping behind her.
Hayley turned back to Mildred and squeezed the older woman’s hand. “I am so sorry, I need to…I have to…” She shrugged helplessly. “Kurstie’s here.”
Mildred squeezed back. “Go.”
With a hoot of pure joy, Hayley raced to meet her best friend.
Jon-Michael watched his sister and Hayley collide in the middle of the floor and grinned as they whooped with laughter. Hayley had missed Kurstin something fierce, regardless of all the hours they spent talking on the phone or texting since Kurst’s move to New York with her reporter. But as though no time at all had passed, the two women hugged, pulled away to check each other out even as they chatted ninety miles an hour, then hugged again.
When they separated once more, Jon-Michael watched Kurstin lean back and use her hands to sketch a body silhouette over Hayley. He had lived with his sister long enough to know she was verbally high-fiving his girl’s dress.
Not without good reason. Hayley looked hot in her smoky silk stockings, sky-high black heels and little heart attack of a dress. The body-skimming old-gold peek-a-boo lace snugged over a silky, skimpy black slip. He spared a moment of serious admiration for the way its uneven hem flirted with her firm thighs as he bee-lined toward the women.
He met up with them just as Halloway, who must have dropped Kurstin at the door and parked the rental, arrived. Ty clearly made his sister happy, so Jon-Michael exchanged polite greetings before giving his sister an enthusiastic lift-her-off-her-feet hug. While he was not quite ready to sing Kumbayah with the guy, he would admit Ty had done an excellent job writing the Patsy story. And Hayley trusted him enough to have given him an in-depth exclusive regarding her mixed emotions over capital punishment and the man who had killed her late husband. Which had had the added bonus of getting rid of the rest of the media crowding Gravers Bend last summer. That meant if Lawrence Wilson was eventually put to death, even after last August’s final hour reprieve, Hayley would likely still be yesterday’s news.
Plus, and Jon-Michael would stick a needle in his eye before admitting this to anyone but Hayley, he followed Halloway’s In One Man’s Opinion blog. It disseminated some of the most erudite takes on current events he had ever read.
“We miss you at Olivet’s,” he told his sister.
“Oh, God,” she said, “I miss everyone there, too. Telecommuting is great. But it’s not the same as being there.”
“So how is the Big Apple treating you?”
“Not too shabby.”
“She doesn’t love it,” Ty put in.
“But I love you,” Kurstin assured the man.
“Which is why she puts up with it.” The look of love Ty gave her went a long way in upping Jon-Michael’s approval rating. Then Ty turned to him. “So I have an engagement present for you two…and a little something for my love, as well.”
“Ooh.” Kurstie wiggled. “I love presents.”
“Me, too,” Hayley agreed. She eyed Ty’s empty hands. “I don’t see any ribbon-festooned packages so I am guessing it’s smaller than a bread box.”
“It is. But I hope you’ll consider the sentiment behind it big.” Ty’s mouth quirked up on one side. “Huge, even.”
“The suspense—not to mention the hyperbole—is killing me.” Kurstin smacked Ty on the arm. “Show us already!”
“As you wish. I tendered my resignation to the New York Times. I thought we could move back here.”
For an instant, the space surrounding the four of them was a vacuum in the midst of the party revelry. Then Kurstin, who looked ecstatic and horrified at one and the same time, said, “But…you love the Times.”
“No, I love you and I am damn fond of my blog. I like the prestige of working at the Times but I’m a small cog in a very big wheel. It could be years before I’m promoted to a spot where I get to do even half of what I’m already doing on One Man’s .” He ran a thumb down the pink flush on Kurstie’s cheek. “So I thought, why not make that my focus? It’s really taken off in the past few months and I can write anywhere.” He gave a casual shrug, but watched Kurstin closely. “Gravers Bend seems like a good place.”
“Omigawd!” She threw herself in his arms. Hayley bounced up and down on her stilettos, then hugged Ty herself when he set Kurstin free.
Jon-Michael decided maybe the guy was all right after all.
Later, as he and Hayley swayed together on the stage they had designat3d the dance floor, he heard her mumble something into his neck. He tipped his chin to see her face. “What’s that, darlin’?”
“I am just so, so happy,” she said. “I have you, a job I really like, a kick-ass engagement party—and my best friend is gonna be back in town soon. Does life get any better than this?”
“Depends. Wanna go rip off a piece in the restroom?”
“Um, no. But I will give you a rain check for the room of your choice when we get home.” She kissed his neck. “And just to sweeten the deal I’ll add an additional ten years of the same. Whataya say?”
“It’s a start, lover girl.” He pulled her closer yet. “It is a damn sweet start.”
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Susan Andersen is the bestselling author of a couple dozen books. The proud mama of a grown son, she lives in the Pacific Northwest with her decades-long soulmate and “The Boys,” her cats Boo Radley and Mojo. The inhabitants of her little piece of the world are weird and wonderful, and Susan attributes her attempts to stay one step ahead of them with keeping her young.
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Notorious Page 30
