Like every other kid who’d grown up in the area, she’d taken field trips to Vanderbilt Mansion and Springwood, probably more times than she could count throughout her school years. And now, as a woman, she’d traveled all over the world planning events in some of the most beautiful homes.
But she still liked his home best.
She moved to the Palladian-style windows and stared at the piazza that formed the inner courtyard of the house’s three wings. That piazza created the entry point to the neat expanse of lawn overlooking the Hudson River that had given the house its name.
“Why, oh, why can’t this be spring or summer?” she lamented more to herself than him.
He’d have obliged her if there had been a way, a juvenile urge to exercise amazing superpowers over the seasons, or greater influence over Raymond and Jamilyn’s wedding plans. Since he had neither, he remained as he was, appreciating the sight she made as she jotted notes, silhouetted by the sunlight beyond the windows.
No one but the staff and his grandfather was around this time of day, so the house was quiet. The outside world didn’t penetrate through the thick stone walls. His grandfather would be napping in his suite in the east wing and the staff would stay invisible unless summoned. So it was just Max and Lily Susan.
“I’m glad there’s enough space to accommodate guests,” Lily Susan said. “Every estate is so different. Sometimes it’s a real challenge to figure out ways to adequately seat people.”
Max supposed for the types of functions Lily Susan planned the accommodations could be interesting. “What did my mother suggest for seating? Because that table won’t seat everyone. That much I know.”
Lily Susan glanced at the table in question. “Not by a long shot, I’m afraid. Lovely as it is. Your mother suggested clearing out the long table and rearranging the room with smaller tables then opening the parlor for a buffet.”
“That’ll work? The ballroom’s a lot bigger. We could have a seated meal in there. I don’t mind a buffet personally, but the guest list is extensive.”
“I know, but we don’t want to get involved with the ballroom. It’s almost impossible to break down the banquet and set up the reception quickly, which means we’d have to entertain the guests in the interim. It’s stressful.”
“I didn’t consider that. Guess that’s why you’re the expert.”
She nodded then flipped a page on her pad. “Gallery, please. Up the main stairs. The route our guests will take.”
“Your wish.” He gestured in what he hoped was a gallant bow, and Lily Susan moved past him into the hall. She assessed the route on their way upstairs, seeming to take in every detail.
The long gallery ran the length of the second floor and provided possibly the best view of the river from inside the house. It was a unique feature, a room that was a bit of an oddity as a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows invited the vista inside Overlook, but didn’t lend the room any conventional purpose, such as a drawing room or study.
“I don’t know if you’re aware,” Max said. “This room was my great-grandfather’s conversation piece.”
“What’s it used for now?”
“It’s my grandfather’s conversation piece now. He eats breakfast here every morning to watch the river traffic and invites friends to watch sunsets as they discuss business over port and cigars.”
“I can certainly understand why,” Lily Susan whispered reverently. “The view is more magnificent than I remember. And I adore your mother’s idea about having the cocktail reception here. Oh, why can’t this be spring?”
“Then you’d have to deal with the rain and the river blends right into the gray sky. Visually uninteresting. Summer, and everyone would roast. These windows absorb heat. If we were outside, we’d be dealing with mosquitoes at sunset. Not fun.”
Lily Susan laughed, a heartfelt sound that chimed through the quiet room and filtered through him in such a physical way.
“My hero. Mosquitoes are not on the guest list.” She smiled at him. “You know, Max, I site venues with my couples, but you’re very handy to have around in this instance. Normally I do more research because I don’t like surprises. But you’re saving me all sorts of steps with your inside information.”
He didn’t doubt that remotely. Lily Susan had become the most sought-after wedding planner in the world for good reason.
She tilted her head to the side, considering. “Okay, I’m seeing rustic French countryside. I won’t miss the romanticism of this setting, but I don’t want to be obvious, either. Raymond’s French and Overlook has your family’s background to consider. You said your great-grandfather used local resources to build Overlook, but I happen to know he was from Montreal. You can see the influence in the structure, in the furnishings. Not overt, but definitely unique to Overlook. I wouldn’t be able to consider this at Vanderbilt Mansion, where the architecture’s Italianate and the furnishings were imported from Italy. What do you think?”
Okay, so maybe she hadn’t needed his history lesson.
“Sorry, I have no idea what rustic French countryside looks like.” Subtract a few more hero points.
“What does it sound like it looks like?”
“I’m visualizing the Loire Valley, which I’ve only visited once in my life. Close?” He didn’t want to lose all his hero points in one shot.
She nodded, clearly pleased. “I’ll bet what you’re imagining isn’t far off. Think elegant, yet not formal. Fields. Farmhouses. Bright flowers. All dressed up.”
Resting a hand on his sleeve with a light touch, she guided him onto the second-floor landing. She stood behind him, lifting on tiptoes to place her hands on both sides of his face to direct his gaze.
“Now look straight ahead.”
Max couldn’t do a damn thing except brace himself because her nearness was having an effect on him. Her voice filtered through him. He could inhale her subtle scent on a breath. Feel the graze of her soft hands on his skin. Sense the warmth of her body radiating between them. Imagine the way her body would melt against his if he leaned back a little.
Only with the greatest effort was he able to shift his focus to the decor. She’d aimed him in the direction of a corner he’d seen a thousand times yet never really noticed before.
“Tell me what you see.” Her voice was a warm whisper against his ear, a sound that evoked a purely physical reaction.
“There’s a cast-iron bench with a cream-colored cushion.” He got the words out and was impressed with himself. “There’s a mirror with a white frame made of some sort of distressed wood that my grandmother brought on a trip. Can’t remember which one.”
Her hands glanced against his skin again as she redirected his gaze, a soft, tempting touch. “What else?”
Some sort of silky scarf had been draped over the frame, held in place with big silk flowers. A pendant chandelier dangled crystal teardrops from the high ceiling.
“I see rustic French countryside.”
She exhaled a laughing breath and stepped back so he could face her. Her beautiful features beamed with excitement. “See, it’s already here. Hints of it in unexpected places. That’s what’s always so amazing about estates that stay in families for generations, or even those that remain privately owned—everyone contributes to the evolution. There’s personality. I absolutely adore working in places like this. The events are always fresh, and because of the different floor plans and features, planning events is always challenging in a good way.”
Max tore his gaze from her face, making an effort to slow the racing of his heartbeat. He could see the humidor his grandfather had picked up on a trip to Cuba decades ago. Lily Susan’s corner, as he would think of it from now on, would have been his grandmother’s handiwork, since his mother’s tastes ran more along the lines of lavish luxury.
But he understood what Lily Susan meant about the evolution of a home. Places like Springwood, where President Franklin D. Roosevelt had lived when he wasn’t staying at the White House, and Vand
erbilt’s Mansion had been donated to New York State for preservation. The lifestyle was frozen in time, unchanging as the buildings became museums.
That in itself was a unique perspective, one that gave Max his own fresh glimpse of a corner that he’d run past his entire life, and a new appreciation for the uniqueness of his home.
And of the woman who stood so close she was affecting his ability to think.
An image of that photo of Lily Susan on a yacht flashed in his mind. It had epitomized the celebrity Wedding Angel.
But not so much this woman who created blinders with smooth hands, the woman who viewed his house with such enthusiasm and artistic attention to detail.
“So rustic French countryside?” he asked, somewhat distracted.
“Definitely. I can see it.” All hesitation had gone. Lily Susan knew what she wanted, and she turned to him then, eyes still molten, only now the gold of sunshine in one of her French fields.
“Madeleine’s our flower girl, so she’ll lend our setting authenticity. Can’t you see her walking down the aisle, dropping rose petals, greeting the guests with bonjour?”
The image made Max smile. And in that moment he realized what it was about Lily Susan that captivated him—she wasn’t what he expected.
The ambitious businesswoman who reminded him of his family. The woman kissing her lover on a yacht in the French Riviera. The woman on her knees engaged in conversation with a five-year-old. The woman who could find one unique corner in a house with fifty-four elaborate rooms.
Who was the real Lily Susan?
Because this was the woman Max wanted. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to overthink the moment. Lily Susan was home for only a few weeks. She had her life to resume once she rested and found her peace again.
Maybe he was only supposed to savor the moment where he felt alive in a way he’d feared he never would again, and enjoy remembering that he was more than a widower and a daddy. Maybe Lily Susan was nothing more than his wake-up call, so he could remember what it felt like to be a man again— A man who knew what it was to want a woman.
To remember how it felt to live.
After the demise of her engagement, maybe Lily Susan needed a reminder to get back to living, too.
CHAPTER TWELVE
LILY UNLOCKED the front door to her office. Max had followed her into town and was now circling the block to find a parking space. She had a grand total of two minutes to get a grip on herself. Right here. Right now.
Unfortunately, Mara wasn’t in the office this afternoon to pose a distraction. She was off meeting with local vendors, running from a menu tasting with the caterer, to a vineyard, to the entertainment company. Ginger had called to say that the florist would be dropping by after her luncheon. Why couldn’t Ginger have been at Overlook for the walk-through? Her presence would have forced Lily to keep her mind where it belonged—on business.
A deep breath.
Lily couldn’t look to everyone else to curtail her ridiculous reaction to Max. This was her deal, a throwback to the days when her head had been filled with weddings. Of course her head was still filled with weddings, but back then most of her fantasy events had been set at Overlook with Max standing at the altar with his arm linked to hers.
Her perfect groom.
God, she hadn’t needed the reminder. Of course she would be stuck in a time warp since she was finally planning an event at Overlook. All these lingering emotions made perfect sense.
What didn’t make sense was her stupidity around Max. She wasn’t thirteen anymore. Nor was he the reckless teenager he’d been then, either. The man was a widowed father.
She actually trembled when she remembered standing so close in the reception hall, close enough to kiss. If she’d lifted her face… Or was she remembering the way he’d been so close he’d blocked out the world with his broad shoulders?
Was that tremor because she was upset by her reaction? Oh, please, let him not have noticed.
Lily flipped on the lights. Deep breath. She could only deal with one problem at a time. Right now she had a wedding to plan. She needed to get her mind wrapped around the details, not on the man who was on his way up the steps, each long, confident stride proving no matter what twists his life had taken he remained attractive, his agile steps bringing him closer, ever closer…
“Hi again, Lily Susan.” That husky voice again.
“Hello again, Max.” She stepped aside. She was not going to notice how glossy his black hair looked in the afternoon sun, curling just enough to hint it was almost time for a haircut.
“Are you and Joey still playing in the town baseball league?” She kept the conversation normal while leading him into the viewing room.
He paused in the doorway. “Where do you want me to set up? Desk?”
“The desk is good. I’ll spread out these books on the coffee table.”
The viewing room had been designed for lengthy visits, with stylish, but comfortable furnishings. This was where Worldwide Weddings Unlimited’s clients reviewed proposals and discussed ideas.
“To answer your question, we’re not playing in the town’s league this season,” Max explained. “Scott recruited us for the police-department league. I’m surprised Joey didn’t mention it. He’s been pretty excited about the whole thing. Playing in a new league makes everyone more competitive. Especially with cops. Joey’s been working out so he can keep up. Sarah’s thrilled.” Max set his laptop on the table then shrugged out of his coat.
Lily was there to take it from him, determined to focus. She would not be noticing the broad shoulders of any other groom. Of course, Max wasn’t a groom…?. “Joey does look good, but I’m afraid he isn’t speaking to me at the moment.”
“No comment.”
“That’s usually my line.”
That got a chuckle from him, and the dimple made a cameo appearance. She was quick to put distance between them and headed to the coatrack in the foyer, then grabbed some design books from a shelf and booted the computer.
The audiovisual arrangement was the same in each of her offices because at this stage of the planning process, resources were important. Whether couples were listening to musicians, scanning table settings, surfing websites for registries or watching streaming footage of bridal runway shows, this was where Lily interpreted preferences.
But there was one more thing she needed to do before getting down to business. Heading into the kitchen, she brewed two double espressos and grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge. She needed fortification if she was going to survive a prolonged engagement with Max in close quarters. She needed a moment to regroup and refocus.
“Now we’re ready to go.” She found Max seated on the couch with his notebook computer logged onto Skype.
She set the drinks on the table in front of him then sank onto the couch, as far away as she could while not appearing as if she wanted space between them. But she did. Oh, she did.
Lingering aftereffects of a teenage crush she could handle. But now was not the time to start viewing this man through adult eyes. Not when he’d only grown so much more handsome through the years, and more charming—when he wasn’t bullying her into taking on a wedding she didn’t want to plan or interfering with her vacation plans.
But he was such a foil to Lucas, who was always “on” for the media, always focused on networking and business opportunities. Lily had admired that, but Max was so easy to be around by comparison, with his quick laughter and caring attention to his beautiful daughter.
No, Lily couldn’t gaze at Max through a woman’s eyes. Not when she saw the man he’d become rather than the boy he’d been. She hadn’t realized until this very second how much she counted on the distance of those years to temper her reaction to him.
Taking a sip of espresso, she sighed as the hot brew worked its magic with fortifying heat.
Max reached for his cup, clearly amused. “I’m discovering a new appreciation for your line of work.”
“Glad to hea
r it.” She raised her cup in salute. “The caffeine will alleviate the headache.”
“You’re planning to get one?”
“A side effect of this part of the process. But caffeine constricts the blood vessels and makes it easier to concentrate.” And would remind her that she was a grown woman, not a teenager. “Think of this as preventative medicine.”
Then she reached for the first of the display books. “Now let me give you an idea of what I have in mind.”
“Do you want Raymond and Jamilyn?”
“Not yet. We’ll go through my notes and have some solid ideas to present before getting them online. It’ll save time. How does that sound?”
He nodded.
“Let’s start with table displays. I want to create a traditionally romantic atmosphere for the bride and groom.” On the computer, she pulled up photos of table displays with crystal and silver, floral arrangements swelling with lush peonies, chandeliers and candles on linen-draped tables. She tilted the display toward Max.
“Can you see?”
He inclined his head slowly, and beneath that striking gaze, they were a man and a woman sitting close on a sofa in a quiet room alone. Could he sense she was insanely aware of him? Oh, please, no, no, no.
“The whole theme will be very romantic, but here’s where I want to veer from tradition.” Leaning forward, she reached for a display book of photos from past events she’d coordinated. Even shifting her gaze away from him worked wonders for her heart rate. “I did a wedding once… Where is it?” She flipped pages. “I know exactly what I want. Under normal circumstances, I’d have an impressive presentation to show you.”
“These aren’t normal circumstances.”
There was a threat in there somewhere, a threat that promised anything was possible.
“You wanted breakneck. You got it.” She smiled.
Max smiled back.
Their knees were separated by only inches. One false move, and they would be touching.
Scrolling through photos, she fixed her gaze on the display book in front of her, but she could still feel him watching her, knew he hadn’t taken his eyes off her.
No Groom Like Him Page 10
