Beautiful March

by Christy Pastore

“Nah, we all have baggage. Stuff from our pasts we need to process.”

  Thunder rumbles in the distance and the wind kicks up.

  She turns back to face the world spread before us. “Heat lightning is really beautiful.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  She glances at her phone. “Well,” she begins, “I suppose I should get going. I need to prepare some notes for my speech when I call my boss tomorrow.”

  We cross back toward the stairs and I flip off the lights. “I hope that goes well for you.”

  “I’m sure it will,” she says, as we descend the staircase.

  My feet hit the concrete and I pull the door open. “Let me shut things down and I’ll give you a ride back to Sage’s place.”

  “Okay, that’d be great,” she calls over her shoulder.

  “You can just set your glass on the bar,” I say, locking the door.

  “Thanks again for the drink. It was amazing.” Haven tucks her hair behind her ear.

  I try not to watch as her tongue glides over her perfect pink lips. I try even harder not to watch as she props her leg up on the bar stool. The material inches up a little higher revealing her sun kissed skin.

  Haven’s stunning, making it damn hard to not stare at her. After I put the glasses in the sink, I lead us out of the restaurant and reset the security system.

  Haven sighs. “I still can’t believe tomorrow is the big day.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.” I open the passenger door for her. “It seems like they just got engaged.”

  Haven laughs and then her laughter turns into a set of . . . giggles? What in the world is so funny? As I slide into the driver’s seat, I can’t tell if she is laughing or crying.

  “Are you okay?”

  I drive my truck out of the parking lot and onto Main Street.

  Haven swipes under her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just feeling a little silly and sentimental.” She clears her throat and her smile fades. “I still can’t believe Scott dumped me, and here I thought he was going to propose. Of course, he wasn’t going to propose.”

  “Oh shit. Being at The Saffron House was that like returning to the scene of the crime?” I joke, hoping to make that smile return.

  “No, I’m definitely not going to let Scott’s assholery ruin your restaurant for me.” She lets out a soft laugh as she pulls the visor down. “Besides,” she goes on, “if I’m going to be here for the next few weeks, I’ll need a good place to eat dinner.”

  I brush my turn signal on and turn off Main Street heading down the backroad that links Mayfield and Smyrna Hills.

  My thumb taps along the steering wheel. “Since you’re not going back to Los Angeles, why don’t you come have dinner on Sunday night? You can help box up the food that you’re sending to the shelter and then I’ll make you something special for dinner.”

  Haven

  My skin warms with heat at his invitation.

  “Well, how can I say no to an offer like that,” I answer. I tell myself Tyler’s just being kind. It’s too much to think it’s anything else. Something more is out of the question. I’m sure it’s only because I’m having a pity party over Scott.

  “Besides, I heard a rumor that The Saffron House is the best restaurant in town.”

  “Damn straight,” he says. “Come in around seven. It’ll be great.”

  “I’ll be there at noon because I’ll probably be starving. I can’t cook to save my life. Now, ordering takeout is a completely different skillset.”

  Tyler grins. “I won’t let you starve, even if I have to bring you food every day.”

  “I might hold you to that promise. Sage made pancakes this morning with powdered sugar and chocolate chips. I don’t know when she learned to cook like that, I just don’t have the patience or time.”

  “Los Angeles keeps a fast pace.” Tyler cocks his head. “Looks like Sage made it home.”

  Sage’s house comes into view and I let out a slow breath. All the lights in the living room are on. I love Sage’s place. It’s an adorable three-bedroom, modern farmhouse with a gorgeous wrap-around porch.

  Tyler eases his truck up and around Sage’s driveway coming to a stop close to the sunroom.

  “If you’re sticking around for the next few weeks maybe I’ll teach you how to cook.”

  My stomach dips. This man, this very handsome man, is making plans and promises.

  “You’re really going above and beyond to make up for Scott dumping me at your place.”

  His steady gaze holds mine. “I’m not taking pity on you, Haven. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

  Ugh. And now I’ve made it awkward.

  Straightening my shoulders, I attempt to recapture the good vibes. “Well, I appreciate it,” I acknowledge, as I climb out of the truck. “Thanks for the ride.”

  He gives me that sexy panty-melting smile. “Good night, Haven, and you’re welcome.”

  A mixture of nerves and excitement swims through me as I skip up the back stairs. I turn back for a brief moment and watch as Tyler’s tail lights disappear into the night.

  Sage is waiting for me when I step inside. Shoving a glass of Champagne into my hands, she barely gets the words out, “So, where did you two end up?”

  I drop my purse onto the dining room table. “Not in his bed, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  She frowns and flops onto the couch. “Pity.”

  I hold up the glass of bubbly. “What’s this all about?”

  “It’s after midnight,” she says with a full smile. “It’s my wedding day.”

  “So it is,” I say, kicking off my heels. “Cheers to you, my friend.”

  I curl up next to her on the couch. The entire place smells like red apples and peonies. Thunder rumbles, shaking the entire house and causing the lights to flicker.

  “You’re not going to lose power, are you?”

  She waves me off and walks over to her credenza. “Nope, I’ve never . . . nope, I’m not saying another word. Not going to jinx anything today.” She lights a few of her pillar candles. “Just in case the power goes out.”

  “Good idea. Hey, have you heard from Anna?”

  “Yeah, her dad made it through the surgery and she’s with her mom at the hospital. He’s still not out of the woods yet.”

  “I really hope that he pulls through. I can’t imagine what they must be going through right now.” My thoughts drift to my parents. I’m shocked that my mom hasn’t called me yet. Surely by now Maybelle informed the entire tri-county area that I’m here. I’ll see them soon enough.

  Sage tilts her head in my direction. “They have a strong support system. Lots of family and friends to help out.”

  We sit in the quiet, enjoying the sound of the rain rapping against the windows. I swallow down the last of my Champagne and think about going to bed. The storm has me wired, plus I’ve been going over all the things I need to say to Frankie tomorrow. It’s left me feeling extra edgy.

  “How about one more glass and then we call it a night?” Sage suggests.

  “It’s your big day. Whatever you want, we’re doing.”

  She passes me the bottle and the sweet scent crashes over my senses. I refill my glass and Tyler flashes in my mind. Settling back onto the couch, my eyes close shut. The feel of his hands on my body lingers on my skin. The sound of his smooth southern drawl echoes in my ear. It’s all very lovely.

  “Seriously, what happened tonight with Tyler?” Sage asks, resting her head on my shoulder.

  I hum a laugh. “Seriously, nothing. He made me a drink. He had a beer and we talked. Tyler showed me the second story of his restaurant. He wants to turn it into a rooftop bar.”

  “Oh, I’d love that. He’s so damn talented. I swear Reed and I eat at least twice a week at The Saffron House.” She lifts her head from my shoulder.

  “Yeah, he’s making me dinner Sunday night.”

  “I knew it, you are holding out on me,” she teases, and pinches my arm.


  “Dinner is no big deal,” I claim, and sip my Champagne.

  She rolls her eyes. “The man is going to cook for you. That’s probably one of the most romantic things in the world.”

  “Hey, where’s Oliver?”

  “Nice subject change,” she scoffs, refilling my glass once more. “Might as well finish the bottle. Oliver, he’s probably hiding in the bathroom in the basement. He hates thunder.” Sage stands stretching her arms out. “Okay, I’m off to bed, even though I probably won’t sleep a wink.”

  “Maybe you should soak in the tub before you go to sleep. It always relaxes me, especially when I have a lot on my mind.”

  Champagne glass and bottle in hand, she stops when she reaches the fireplace. “That’s a good idea. What time do you talk to your boss tomorrow morning?”

  I shrug, rising from the couch. “I’ll call Frankie at noon our time.”

  “Well, I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.” Sage shuts off the lights in the living room and dining room before making her way up the stairs.

  “Night.”

  “Don’t forget to blow out the candles.”

  “I won’t,” I call out.

  I walk over to the table and pick up my clutch. Pulling out my phone, I swipe the screen to life and fire off a text to Frankie.

  Need to talk to you. Will call tomorrow.

  Frankie: Oh no, how about we chat now? I’m up and could use something else to focus on. Thea Ritchie decided to go on a Twitter rant so we’re on damage control.

  Me: Okay. Give me a minute.

  Well, at least my clients are behaving themselves. At least I think they are. I haven’t heard from Beatrice other than when I text her from the airport letting her know that I’d arrived safely. I swallow down more Champagne and walk down the hallway toward the sunroom. Calm washes over me as I hit the call button.

  “Hello, darling.”

  “Hi, Frankie, so a Twitter rant, huh?”

  “Yeah, she tweeted that the feud between Kylie Clemson’s boyfriend and Kylie’s sister was completely staged at the Met Gala last month. Thea claims that they’re gaslighting breakup rumors for album sales.”

  My lips part on a long, slow exhale. “Good lord, oldest trick in the book.”

  “So, what’s up? Are you having the time of your life in God’s country?”

  Frankie’s comment makes me laugh. She was born and raised in Los Angeles. I don’t think she’s ever stepped a foot on Kentucky soil.

  “Not the time of my life, but it’s been nice to see Sage. Which is why I’m calling. Her house sitter’s father was in an accident and she had to fly home to be with her family. It’s put Sage in a bind, so I’m going to stay here for the next few weeks and work. Maybe even take a vacation.”

  “Are you kidding me, Haven?”

  My heart begins to beat a furious rhythm in my chest. “No, I’m being completely serious. She needs someone to watch her place and take care of her cat.”

  “You have two clients with press tours coming up. And another client who is currently out there promoting his Netflix show that debuts in a few weeks. How are you going to manage that from the middle of nowhere? And what’s this business about Scott Benson firing you?”

  I’m not their fucking manager—aka babysitter. I’m their publicist. I down the rest of my Champagne. Apparently, I’m going to need more booze for this conversation. “Okay, so I can’t exactly attend any media parties this month, Kenna and Zooey can handle all that. They’re perfectly capable. And it’s not like I don’t have phone service or internet, Frankie. It’s Kentucky not the middle of the desert.”

  She laughs. “You still haven’t told me about Mister Benson.”

  I swallow hard. “I was planning on scheduling a conference call with you first thing Monday. Beatrice has already drawn up the paperwork. I have the situation under control. He was a jerk about it—didn’t even give me real reason.”

  A tiny lie.

  I’ll be sending Beatrice a text as soon as I get off the phone with Frankie. Followed by an email with a lengthy to-do list.

  “Scott Benson clearly doesn’t understand how contracts work.” I hear the distinct sound of her pen tapping against her glass desk. “This guy’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. I pity the woman who ends up with him. Who tries to leave their publicist before a major US tour?”

  “He said that because his album was burning up the charts and since the tour was sold out, he felt that publicity was a waste.”

  “Idiot.” Frankie clears her throat. “So, what’s your plan with Mister Benson?”

  “It’s going to be fine, Frankie. My team and I will handle it.”

  “Don’t make me regret this, Haven. No slip-ups.”

  “Have I ever let you down before?”

  “No, which is why I’m being so compassionate on this matter. If you succeed this month, you’ll find yourself with a partnership promotion and a thirty-five percent raise. This friendship must be pretty damn special.”

  My feet do a happy dance and I pump my fist into the air. “Yeah, trust me,” I say, moving the curtain to peer out over the duck pond and wide-open space spread before me. “I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.”

  I wouldn’t choose to stay here any longer than is necessary. And I haven’t exactly packed for a month-long stay but maybe I can persuade Beatrice to ship some of my stuff out here.

  “Enjoy your weekend. I’ll talk to you soon, good night.”

  “Night, Frankie.”

  I blow out the candles and turn off the lamp in the foyer. As I shuffle over the hardwood to the guest bedroom, I catalogue my to-do list for Beatrice. When I reach the guest bedroom, I pluck my tablet from the writing desk. Swiping the app to my email, I type up a message to Beatrice. Lightning flashes illuminate the whole sky and I wonder if this is some kind of omen. Foreshadowing for the days ahead.

  Nah.

  “Hurry up, Haven,” Sage yells from the sunroom.

  My eyes rake over the classic car parked in the driveway. “What kind of car is this?”

  I haul my bag higher onto my shoulder as I trek down the back steps. Our dresses are already in the bridal room at Cranberry Ridge. Sage’s mom picked everything up early this morning. All we have to do is worry about getting ready.

  “It’s an LTI Fairway, Austin FX4, ma’am,” the driver announces, opening the door for me.

  “It looks like the car that the Queen of England takes to church.”

  Sage smiles as she settles into the backseat. “Precisely the style that I was going for.”

  The sun is shining, not a cloud in the sky. The breeze is perfect—just enough to provide a welcome relief from the summer heat. But according to the weather app on my phone, the temperature is going to soar to a hot and sticky eighty-eight degrees later.

  “I heard you on the phone last night, were you talking to Tyler?” Sage asks.

  “No,” I answer. “My boss. I’m your new house sitter.”

  “Oh, thank you. I’m so glad I didn’t have to call a stranger.”

  I glance at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “There’s a pet-sitting service I was thinking about if you couldn’t stay. Totally on the up and up, but the thought of having a stranger in my house makes me nervous.”

  Cranberry Ridge comes into view and the driver pulls up to the tack house.

  “Speaking of nerves,” I say, climbing out of the car. “You ready to do this?”

  Sage nods and then we make our way back to the bridal room.

  “Here comes the bride,” Sage’s mom declares.

  The room erupts with claps and cheers from her other bridesmaids and the hair and makeup team. Erin, Sage’s college roommate, hands her a glass of Champagne.

  “The day has finally come,” Sage’s cousin Angie says, raising her glass. “Cheers to you and Reed.”

  I grab a glass from the bubbly bar in the corner and call out, “Here, here.”

  Sage and I situat
e ourselves into the seats in front of the mirrors after Sage’s mom hugs us on her way out of the room to meet with the wedding planner. The stylists go to work and the bridal room soon fills with laughter and music. Erin and Angie’s hair and makeup are nearly finished. Their dark locks are styled in neat waves that cascade over their shoulders. They could easily be mistaken for sisters.

  “So, has anyone seen my future husband today?”

  Angie pipes up, “He and the other groomsmen were around back playing cornhole and drinking whiskey.”

  A frown paints Sage’s face. “He better not be drunk when we get married or it won’t be legal.”

  “It’s Kentucky, I’m sure there’s been more than a few drunk people getting hitched over the years.” My eyes meet Sage’s in the mirror.

  Angie and Erin both laugh out loud.

  “He won’t get drunk,” Angie assures. “Reed’s too classy of a guy to be hammered.”

  “Well, not only that,” Erin speaks up, “he’s going to want to remember your vows. It’s all so romantic.”

  “It’ll be even more romantic when Reed and I consummate this marriage.”

  “Are you saying you haven’t been having sex?”

  Sage shakes her head. “Nope. Four weeks of nothing but kissing.”

  “Lord, I don’t think I’d be able to contain myself if I had a man like Reed,” Angie says before taking another drink.

  “Trust me,” Sage says, studying her manicure. “It’s been super difficult to not push him up against a wall and take him like a sailor on leave.”

  Ugh. I’m having my own dry spell. It’s been roughly two and half months since Scott and I last had sex. This summer I’m sure my sex life will be pushed into a serious drought since we are no longer coupled.

  Unless. Tyler.

  Nope.

  Tyler Nichols is strictly off-limits.

  “What’s the story on Reed’s best man, Tyler?” Erin asks, fluffing the ends of her hair. “Is he single? He’s absolutely delicious.”

  I feel Sage’s eyes on me at the mention of Tyler’s name. Heat rolls over my entire body.

  “Well, he’s in his early thirties,” she begins. “Independently wealthy. Kind to animals. Respects his mama. He owns a restaurant and Reed works with him at Nichols Corp. As far as I know he is single.”