Promoting her to managing editor had been a smart move, as he’d known it would be. They’d been friends since Riley had interned at the Herald as an undergrad at Vassar. He knew her work. Knew the friend she was. Life had dealt both of them hard blows with death and grief, and that had made their friendship even stronger.
He’d met resistance from his family over Riley’s lack of actual experience, of course, but she knew her way around the newsroom and Max knew Riley. She learned on her feet and was the best person for the job.
He’d won that skirmish. Largely because his grandfather had supported the decision. He may have retired from the Herald, but he hadn’t stepped down from his role of family patriarch yet.
An electronic screech cut through the quiet, and Max reached for the intercom. He didn’t get a chance to say a word before his assistant’s voice said, “Code 125.”
His mother swept into his office the way she always did—as if she owned the place. She did, so her refusal to knock wasn’t personal. And she wasn’t the only one with that sense of entitlement, either. Various Downey family members could be counted on to show up unannounced at any time of the day or night, which was a job hazard of working in any of the family businesses. His clever assistant had come up with a series of codes to give Max a heads-up on who was about to barge into his office.
“What a nice surprise, Mom. What brings you by today?” he asked, although he suspected he already knew the answer.
She was carrying a copy of today’s edition.
“Hello, Maxim.” She didn’t say another word. Dropping her purse into a chair, she cocked a hip against his desk and peered down at him.
His mother had always been an attractive woman. Quite beautiful even with the black hair and green eyes she’d passed along to him. She was tall and willowy with the benefit of a fleet of capable cosmetic surgeons who kept age at bay. Not that she was elderly by any stretch. She hadn’t yet reached her mid-sixties and wore that stylish, timeless aura privilege and breeding could buy.
He waited while she shook open the paper to display the headline above the fold.
Extreme Romance Hits Hudson Valley
“Catchy headline. Bet there isn’t a paper left in a box anywhere in this town.” She smiled, clearly pleased. “Here’s hoping.”
“You did a fine job with the article, Maxim. Informative and tasteful.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
Mission accomplished, then. He’d known when he’d written the piece a lot of folks would be paying close attention. His mother included, as it concerned her favorite pet project.
Worldwide Weddings Unlimited.
“I do.” She set down the paper. “And that’s why I’m here. Now that Lily’s in town, we need to make some decisions regarding Raymond’s wedding. I’m on my way into the office to meet with her. I thought you might want to weigh in.”
Very nice of her to consider him since he was, of course, hosting the event. But here was something else Max knew wasn’t personal. Any event involving Overlook and Worldwide Weddings Unlimited would create a pot his mother simply wouldn’t be able to resist stirring. Overlook was her home, too, and as the reigning matriarch, all things social were her exclusive domain. That unspoken rule had been set in stone for more generations than Max had been around.
But he sometimes thought they’d all be better off if they put his mother to work at any one of their business interests since his mother’s charitable endeavors and social calendar obviously weren’t fulfilling her. She was a smart woman. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see her catering to VIP clients at the bank. Dictating more described her personal style.
“Raymond and Jamilyn have given me a general idea of what they’re looking for,” he said. “Shouldn’t be too hard to figure things out. They’ll be calling whenever they’re able, and they’re both accessible by email when they can’t make a phone call.”
“Maxim, that’s all well and good, but this is going to be a grand affair. Raymond’s future career is on the line here, and you’ve already given the media a heads-up. Add Lily’s involvement and this wedding simply must live up to its press. I’m afraid the planning won’t be quite as simple as you’re making it out to be.”
“So I’ve heard.” From a very beautiful wedding planner in no uncertain terms.
She leaned forward and patted his cheek, her fond smile making him brace himself before she uttered her next words. “Leave everything to me. Lily’s here and we’ve got Mara and the office at our disposal. We’ll run everything by you if you’re worried. We all know how busy you are.”
“I’m not worried, Mother.” A lie if ever there was one, but here was a place where all of Lily Susan’s arguments came in handy. “I don’t want us to get ahead of ourselves, though. Lily Susan only heard about the wedding the day before yesterday. She has another wedding to plan first.”
His mother waved him off with an impeccably manicured hand. “She can plan more than one wedding at a time. That’s her job.”
Given Lily Susan’s history, the assumption was a reasonable one. But his mother didn’t know how exhausted Lily Susan was, although saying so might violate what she’d told him in confidence. “I’m only pointing out that we’ve sprung this on her, and it won’t serve anyone’s purpose if we don’t give her a chance to figure out her own schedule.”
His mother frowned. “She needs to move on this. There’s isn’t much time.”
“Give her some room, please.”
“Honestly, Maxim. I gave the girl her start in business, and she’s still my partner. We enjoy working together. It’s going to be fun.”
Fun? The only fun that Max could see in the entire equation was the time he could spend with Lily Susan. But he’d barely admitted that to himself—and certainly wasn’t ready to say a word to his mother.
Lily Susan intrigued him more than he’d expected. Her cool, polished exterior contrasted with the warmth she’d shown with his daughter. And the challenge in her eyes fascinated him. Especially her strength and the vulnerability he sensed she was hiding. Oh, yeah, the woman fascinated him.
He was having life signs where he’d least expected them. Figured that he’d start to emerge from his shell for a woman who in no way meshed with any aspect of his life.
Max leaned back in his chair and considered his reply. He needed to redirect before his mother thought she had permission to assume control. His mother understood money.
“Please keep in mind that while I—” emphasis on the singular “—may be hosting this event, Raymond and Jamilyn are paying for it, so I’m accountable for every dime. I have no choice but to be involved with the decision making otherwise I won’t be able to adhere to their budget.”
Rising quickly, he kissed her cheek. “But I do appreciate your connections and your help. You know that.”
Her expression said she recognized the dismissal for exactly what it was. There was nothing left to say as far as Max was concerned. Of course, he didn’t think for one second his mother would back off of the planning even if she didn’t have carte blanche to assume control.
“Kiss Madeleine for me.” She sounded cool as she retrieved her purse and copy of the paper. “Please let her know we’re scheduled at the spa Friday afternoon for our nails. Brigham will pick her up after school.”
“I’ll tell her.”
She didn’t say another word as she strode out the door, unhappy. Max rubbed his temples, determined to come up with the next move before he had a train wreck on his hands.
But at least his mother hadn’t taken out her displeasure on his daughter. That was definitely something. Madeleine always enjoyed outings with Goddess, usually involving grooming or shopping expeditions. His mother wasn’t exactly an involved grandparent—nothing along the lines of the hands-on Rosie—but as his daughter and mother were both female and kindred souls in a family with a lot of men, he encouraged his mother whenever she reached out.
Max didn’t want to strain their r
elationship, either, but he refused to allow his mother to ruin his plans. He had to tread carefully because Lily Susan was comfortable working with his mother.
He had no intention of stepping aside. His mother and Lily Susan had no choice but to deal with him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LILY DROVE DOWN Main Street with the noon traffic in her dad’s Cadillac, which she’d commandeered as her own until arranging for a rental. Downtown Poughkeepsie had come a long way since the days when she and her friends used to sneak into town to hang out at the Main Mall and ogle boys. The pedestrian mall had been built to preserve the nineteenth-century commercial buildings that lined the town’s main street. While it had been a noble endeavor, the inception of suburban shopping centers had degenerated Main Mall into a seamy place that had fascinated teens from the rural hamlet of Pleasant Valley.
Main Mall had met its official demise only a few years before Lily’s last visit home. The street had since been reopened and all those commercial buildings were now on the historic register.
Her own building had undergone a similar transformation, and as she turned onto a side street and found a parking space, she remembered how this row of Victorian town houses hadn’t looked nearly so well-preserved a decade ago. But to the twenty-year-old college student with very big dreams, the three-story town house, with its mansard roof and dormer windows, had been the epitome of worldliness and charm.
As the property had needed considerable work and everyone had believed the demise of the Main Mall inevitable, she’d purchased it for a song. Then, with the help of her father, brothers and friends, she’d undertaken the renovations of the interior and exterior herself.
Not much of that quirky, hand-renovated memory remained in this latest upgrade. While always a part of the Mill Street-North Clover Historic District, this row of town houses had only recently been listed on the register. Only the wrought-iron nameplate beside the door indicating the name of the business looked familiar.
That nameplate was the reworked original—the very one her dad had given her as a shop-warming gift so long ago. As he proudly displayed the first dollar bill he’d ever earned above the cash register, he’d given Lily that nameplate to display.
The suggestion had actually been Ginger’s, who always had plenty of suggestions and was never shy about sharing them. Many were sheer brilliance.
“You want to establish yourself as a professional consultant from inception. You do that by tasteful subtlety,” she’d explained when they’d first viewed this location as a potential office.
Ginger’s reasoning had proven as good as her word, and now when Lily was far more experienced, she recognized that no strip plaza could have ever laid the groundwork for Worldwide Weddings Unlimited in the same way this Victorian town house had.
She’d emulated that same sense of style with each operational expansion. Her offices in Manhattan, Los Angeles, Paris and Beijing all exhibited similar cultural appeal. And on each, no other signage was necessary beyond a replica of that tasteful nameplate.
“Welcome home, Lily.” Ginger appeared in the doorway. “Are you not amazed? I’ll bet you barely recognize the place.”
“You have outdone yourself.” Lily crossed the street and hastened up the brick steps, running a hand along the new wrought-iron railing. “Definitely better than the photos.”
While kissing Ginger’s cheek in greeting, Lily suppressed a twinge of guilt that she hadn’t had the time or inclination to make a personal appearance during the renovation process.
“A year from start to finish,” Ginger said proudly. “The attorney on the opposite corner began four months before we did and still hasn’t wrapped up yet.”
“You have worked a miracle.”
“You’ll definitely think so when you see inside.”
“I already do. The trim looks remarkable.” She shielded her eyes from the autumn sun. “I fell in love with all that gingerbread trim. I actually think it’s what convinced me this was the perfect place. So who owns the house next to the attorney now?”
“Another musician. She kept the place a studio and is doing extremely well by the looks of it. And she’s a young woman, too. Obviously motivated. Reminds me a lot of you.”
Lily smiled. “I took piano lessons from Mrs. Carr, the previous owner, when I was younger. Bless her heart. She was so patient with me.”
“You didn’t play well, dear?”
“I played very well. Just not what Mrs. Carr wanted me to play. I loved classical and ragtime—anything above my level that presented a challenge. I couldn’t be bothered with the scales or the theory.”
“No surprises there. You’ve always been impatient.”
“Me?”
Ginger didn’t reply. She didn’t have to—her expression said it all. But she beamed as she swung open the door. “Ta da!”
Lily knew the details of the interior, had authorized every purchase after reviewing photos and prices and sketches of proposed layouts. But the reality of the lavish colors and fabrics and patterns, the way the gossip bench and chairs and side tables transformed the foyer into a cozy entry, made her smile. The atmosphere couldn’t have been more Worldwide Weddings Unlimited if she’d wielded the hammer and nails herself.
She had no words, only an excitement that took her by surprise. The hug she gave Ginger seemed to take her the same way. But she was clearly pleased. “I knew you’d love it.”
“It couldn’t be more perfect.”
“Just wait.” Ginger motioned around them with a sweeping gesture, and Lily actually giggled as they began a grand tour.
In addition to the foyer, there were two offices and a viewing room on the first floor. There was a kitchen in the back, too, but that had never seen much use beyond providing light refreshments for clients. A cup of espresso or herbal tea. A glass of wine. Cheese and crackers or a fruit-and-veggie tray for fittings that ran into the night.
The second floor at the top of the sweeping staircase had changed little.
“Not much to do in here,” Ginger said. “The lighting has been upgraded, of course.”
Lily had originally done extensive work by knocking out every wall down to the support beams to transform the entire floor into a workroom. With mirrored walls and tall windows and support beams transformed into decorative columns, the workroom had always reminded her of a dance studio. Bright and airy and absolutely perfect to view wedding parties in full regalia or test runners and trains for all-important walks down the aisle.
“They did a nice job bringing the floor back,” Lily said. “I’m so glad we didn’t have to replace the original.”
“I was, as well. Allowed me to put the money to good use elsewhere.”
The third floor—an odd-shaped attic behind dormer windows—was still used for storage. Ginger had upgraded with custom-built shelving, drawers and cabinets to store everything from office supplies to wedding arches.
But once upon a time Lily had commandeered a corner of this attic for herself. She’d fitted one of the window boxes with cushions, so she could sit and stare out at the lights twinkling on the Hudson River at night, and a bed where she could nap when studies or work kept her too late to make the drive home.
Her corner was no more. And for some reason that tugged at Lily a bit, even though she had offices as elegantly furnished in much more exciting cities. Nowadays, she seemed only to breeze through those offices on her way through whatever part of the world she was currently working.
Once upon a time, however, this had been her place. She’d worked her heart and soul out in this town house. Had greeted her first clients in the foyer. Had dragged herself up to this attic to catch a few hours of sleep when she was so wiped out she couldn’t keep her eyes open another second.
This town house had memories.
“You missed all the excitement,” said Mara. “And the headaches.”
Lily shook off her reverie and smiled automatically at the woman who appeared in the doorway, mak
ing an entrance in her tailored pencil skirt and filmy blouse, straight red hair falling over her shoulders and down her back.
“No question about that,” Lily agreed. “Thank you for all your effort. Ginger has said it was a joint venture.”
Mara smiled. “Then she’s being generous. I’ve been busy with our events. She’s been doing the actual renovation work.”
“It’s simply lovely. You both worked a miracle.”
“Now aren’t you pleased we didn’t sell this office?” Ginger asked, satisfied smile in place.
Lily gave a laugh. There was only one way to answer that question, but there was actually more to the decision, as Ginger well knew.
As business had expanded, the need for offices in central locations had become essential. Professionally it hadn’t made sense to keep this place, but Ginger had resisted selling her shares of this original venture, even though she wasn’t interested in being a stakeholder in the expansion.
She’d never been ugly about it, of course, but she’d always played the guilt card. So Lily had allowed herself to be manipulated because she understood Ginger’s desire to remain quasi-involved. But Lily also refused to become passive-aggressive about running a location she no longer had time for, so she’d long ago limited the scope of this operation, largely as a form of damage control, since the office still bore her name and Poughkeepsie wasn’t a regular stop in her hectic schedule.
The redheaded stepchild, indeed.
“There are so many memories here,” she said wistfully. “And this branch of Worldwide Weddings Unlimited is still making brides’ dreams come true. What could be better?”
Diplomacy as its finest—even Ginger seemed appeased. She continued the tour, pointing out various improvements as they made their way downstairs to the working office, as Lily had always thought of it. Clients weren’t shown this space, but it’s where most of the work was accomplished.
“I didn’t intend to interfere with your schedule since you’re in production in Rhinebeck,” Lily told Mara. “But with a full-scale event at Thanksgiving, I’m going to need your help.”
No Groom Like Him Page 6
