by Susan Hatler
“Trust me, you’ve got nothing to worry about. She and I are still good friends. We’ve worked together for a long time.”
“You mean she’s a firefighter?” I asked. Then, I watched him nod. This was getting worse by the minute. “The woman saves people’s lives? She’s a hero. And I’m a woman who has to call the neighbors ‘temptation teasers’ just so my boss doesn’t can me.”
He chuckled, but I couldn’t see what was amusing. Finally, he said, “Look, Taylor and I grew up together. She’s more like my sister than anything else. We dated for a few months, but then it was over. She’s here for the getaway. Not for me. Besides, I heard she’s totally in love with someone, and I for one completely approve.”
I glanced over at Brody, his handsome face covered in shadows as we made our way through a grove of cypress trees. He’d said Taylor was at his house for the getaway and I wanted, no needed to believe him. Like Charlie up ahead laughing with the other man, maybe I needed to put to practice what I was preaching and try to trust Brody. Sighing, I felt like a complete and total idiot. “I’m sorry, Brody. I’ve been stressed with this whole retreat thing. I’m new to the event planning business. I mean, I’ve had some difficult clients, but nobody nearly as demanding as Greta. Plus, I’ve been trying to reconnect with Charlie, but nothing’s working.”
His forehead wrinkled. “Charlie is . . .?”
“She was my best friend back in high school. We haven’t spoken in years, and I don’t quite know how to deal with that.” I squeezed the saddle horn with one hand, and nodded toward her direction with my chin. “Your buddy seems to be taking a liking to her.”
“Wyatt’s a good guy,” Brody assured me, watching them ride up ahead together. Then he turned back to me. “So what’s the deal with you and Charlie?”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek before answering. “We used to be really close. After we graduated from high school, she moved away and we lost touch. I’ve been hoping to reconnect with her, but I keep putting my foot in my mouth. I wanted to learn so much from this retreat. Instead, I feel like I’m barely keeping my head above water.”
He fell silent for a minute or two, wearing a contemplative expression. Finally, he said, “Sometimes situations like this can make you feel helpless. When I was a kid, I spent most days at my best friend Kevin’s house. His mom, Carol, was almost like a real mom to me. One night I was sleeping over their house, and there was a fire. Kevin’s dad was out of town and his mom made sure we both got out, along with Kevin’s sister. But when she went back in to save their cat, the roof fell in on top of her.” His voice thickened with emotion. “She never made it out.”
“I’m so sorry,” I murmured.
“That’s why I became a firefighter. It was the only way I could stop feeling helpless.” He tipped the bill of his hat back and shrugged. “Instead of focusing on what went wrong, I decided to do something I could make right. If that makes any sense.”
Maybe I needed to stop focusing on what went wrong and by my own standards do something right? “It does.” I fiddled with the reins in my hand, and couldn’t help but feel a swell of admiration for him. He didn’t harbor on the fact that his mother had left him, but accepted the love that was given to him in life. In that moment, my heart squeezed, and I knew I really liked him. Deeply. “She must’ve been a wonderful woman for you to honor her memory like that.”
“She was the best,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up. “Once, I brought up my mom, and she said, ‘People make mistakes. Forgive and move on, or you’re gonna miss the good stuff’. My mom never did come back, but I took Carol’s advice and stopped being bitter. Never realized how that resentment affected me until I let it go.”
We rode in comfortable silence the rest of the way, then said good-bye to each other. In the limo, I rode in the front seat next to the driver on the way back to the mansion, and he asked about our ride. I told him the experience was lovely, and I meant it.
Greta had scheduled a catered dinner on the beach, but for some reason she’d had Janine stay behind to confirm all the arrangements instead of me. I’d set everything up with Scotty’s Seafood Restaurant weeks ago, but the switch felt like a slap in the face because she preferred to have Janine handle the dinner. Greta didn’t know I’d hired Scotty’s, but I’d booked them weeks ago before I knew Greta’s history with Scotty. I doubted she’d notice, anyway.
Once we arrived home, I showered, then changed into a little black dress with a swirly skirt before heading down to the beach. At the top of the stairs, I saw Brody approaching, and my breath caught in my throat. He wore a white, collared shirt tucked into black pants, and his golden hair was swept back with a few strands falling over his forehead.
He caught sight of me and blew a whistle. “You look amazing, lovely lady.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling suddenly shy. I’d been in such a rush, I hadn’t had time to use the hair straightener on my long red strands. I worried they hung in frizzy waves over my shoulders, but Brody didn’t seem to notice a problem. Happy dance.
We walked down the stairs together, and the scene that spread out along the bottom was nothing short of spectacular. The white luxury tent had little fairy lights strung around the perimeter. Through the open flap, I saw the tables set with beautiful china and silvery cutlery. The guests stood around holding champagne flutes and making conversation filled with laughter.
A chilly wind blew through the evening air, making me shiver. Brody slipped an arm around me, pulling me close to his warmth, and I didn’t protest this time. We paused at the bottom of the stairs, and I lifted my lashes to look up at him. The corner of his mouth hitched up, then he leaned down, and I knew he was going to kiss me. . . .
Sudden shouts drew our attention and both of us pulled back at the same time. We stared at each other a moment, then slowly turned toward the shrieking.
Greta stood outside the tent, hands on her hips, chin jutting up toward a tall handsome man who looked oddly familiar. “This is a terrible mistake. Huge. I would never have hired you, even if you were the last restaurant on earth. I meant what I said when I left. I never want to see you again, and that includes right now!”
“I’m not exactly thrilled about seeing you either,” the man responded, gesturing wildly with his hands. “You’re the most unreasonable woman I’ve ever met. If I’d known you would be here, I surely wouldn’t have come myself. Your organizer arranged to have my best service for this event, which is the only reason I came to supervise. I have her name here somewhere . . .”
Brody’s arm dropped to his side. “That’s my uncle, Scotty Mitchell. Is Scotty’s Seafood catering the dinner here tonight?”
My face drained of all feeling. “Oh, no.”
The arguing continued with each of them spouting back a comment more insulting than the one they’d received. The scene was like watching a tennis match with words and insults lobbing back and forth fairly evenly matched. I couldn’t decide who was winning.
Brody glanced over at me in confusion. “Why is Greta upset with Scott?”
“I hired them before the retreat, before I knew . . .” I pressed my hands over my face and moaned, before daring to look up at Brody. “Scotty Mitchell broke Greta’s heart, inspiring her to write her bestseller Men: Who Needs Them? Since the two of them broke up, she’s made millions with that book, convincing women they don’t need a man.”
“You’re never going to believe this.” Brody let out a low whistle, then put his hands on both of my shoulders. “My uncle was dumped for no reason a few years ago, and he’s never gotten over her. See how he’s spewing anger at her right now? Know where all of that passion comes from? My uncle Scotty is still in love with Greta.”
My hand slowly rose to cover my mouth. I had no idea what to make of Brody’s comments, but I knew I was in a lot of trouble. It appeared that Scotty Mitchell had just located his notes on who had booked his catering services, and he handed the paper to Greta. Then she read th
e sheet, looked up from the paper, and her gaze moved around slowly, then landed on me. Gulp.
Chapter Twelve
I blinked awake as the sunlight streamed through the window, bathing me in a soft, warm glow that was in direct contrast to the state of my life. Every muscle in my body tightened and I longed to be unconscious again rather than face Greta’s wrath. After last night’s shouting match with Scotty, she’d disappeared. You’d think I’d be glad I hadn’t been fired—yet—but the waiting only intensified the jitters welling inside me.
Brody had been a huge support last night, assisting me in making sure everyone was having a good time. A lot of the women showed surprising concern for Greta. I hadn’t even noticed her making friends. Many of the ladies asked if they could help, but I told them the situation might be better if Greta had some space. Seemed like almost every decision I incorporated into this retreat twisted into a knot of mistakes. I hoped my suggestion to give Greta space didn’t fuel her anger.
Pulling my quilt up tightly around my neck, my mind drifted back to the horseback ride with Brody. I really admired the way he had taken such a hopeless situation in his life and turned his loss into something so positive. Not only had he never known his own mother, but he’d lost the woman who had become a second mom to him. I wanted to be that kind of person, who could make something positive out of something that seemed hopeless.
With that in mind, I sat up in bed, and whipped the covers off of me. Why waste any more time worrying about my friendship with Charlie? It was time to take action and talk to her and not let anything stop me this time.
I pulled on a pair of sweats, then I scurried to the dining room where we kept the breakfast spread. On the sideboard were china plates, sterling silver cutlery, crystal goblets, and a lavish array of breakfast foods. A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling above the dining table. Each time I walked in, I gazed out the bank of windows taking in the spectacular view of Blue Moon Bay below, which sparkled as if infused with glittering diamonds.
I helped myself to a plate, happy to see Charlie sitting at the far end of the table, eating a bagel with smoked salmon, capers, and cream cheese. She was sipping a mimosa when I came over, and she glanced up and gave me a brief smile. I took that as an encouraging sign, and set down my plate. Suddenly, I was starving, and couldn’t wait to devour my eggs, bacon, and toast.
Inhaling deeply, I asked, “Mind if I sit with you?”
“Not at all.” She gestured to the many empty chairs around her. Only a couple of the ladies were up yet, and they had taken their plates out on the terrace.
Glancing down at my plate, I wrinkled my nose. “I’ll be hitting the gym when this retreat’s over. I can’t believe how much I’ve been eating. It’s got to be stress. I’ve always eaten my feelings when I’m stressed. Do you remember in high school how I used to keep a stash of donut holes in my locker? I won’t fit into any of my clothes after these two weeks are over.”
She glanced up again with a bemused smile on her face. “You look great, Olivia. I wouldn’t worry too much about a few pounds.”
Encouraged by her support, I plunged ahead, taking another bite. “Charlie, listen, I acted like a complete bonehead when I met you outside the limo on our first day. After all that’s happened over the years, I was just nervous at seeing you again.”
Her gaze fell to her plate and the corners of her mouth turned downward. “You mean because Rex made me famous? Or should I say infamous?”
“Partly,” I admitted, feeling sublimely lame. I took a deep breath, deciding to be completely honest. “You know that day we were doing the friendship activity with the trust exercises? I realized how much I miss you. We were best friends in high school. I regret we lost touch.”
Her almond-brown eyes widened. “I feel the same way.”
“Really?” Adrenaline rushed through me. “I wasn’t even there for you when you were going through your divorce. Megan, Wendy, and I talked about calling you. We just didn’t know how to reach you. But we should’ve tried harder and found a way.”
“That’s not your fault.” Her eyes watered. “It’s not like my number’s listed. And I’m not on social media—I totally avoid the Internet. Besides, I’m equally guilty of cutting you out,” she said, her voice shaky. “Everything was all about Rex for so long. When he cheated, I was so embarrassed I couldn’t face anyone from our old group.”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” I said, firmly, reaching for her hand. “He’s the slimeball.” Part of me couldn’t believe I’d just called Rex Rockwell a slimeball, but saying my thoughts felt good. Really good. “It must’ve been so hard for you, feeling like you couldn’t reach out to us. I really do wish I could’ve been there for you. But I’m here now.”
“That means so much.” She reached over and squeezed my hand, then she swiped at the tears falling down her cheeks. “I’ve missed you.”
My throat tightened as I scooted out of my seat and wrapped my arms around her slender shoulders. She hugged me back immediately, and the walls between us crumbled. “I’ve missed you, too,” I said, meaning every word.
As we settled back into our seats, she dabbed under her eyes with her linen napkin. “You know, I haven’t been there for you, either. What you’re going through with your parents? I’m here if you want to talk about that or anything else that’s bothering you.”
My stomach tightened, and I inhaled sharply. Did I want to talk about all the things that had been building up since we’d arrived? The problems were pressing against the steel wall I’d so carefully crafted to hold the pain in, but suddenly the dam broke. “My dad won’t accept that he and my mom’s relationship is over, and that breaks my heart,” I said quietly.
“That’s surprising about your mom.” She dropped her chin on her fist, shaking her head. “Your parents were always so good together. But I know what it feels like to have a marriage that looks perfect when, in reality, everything’s crumbling. I’m sorry, Olivia.”
“My dad keeps texting me asking for advice on ways to get my mom back. It’s been stressful, and with this retreat . . . I have so much at stake here with my career.” I bit my lip, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Greta hadn’t come in. I dropped my voice. “If I impress Greta, then my event planning business will be set for years to come. But the way things are going . . .” I shook my head, helplessly.
“What do you mean?” Her brows furrowed. “I think the retreat’s going really well. I’m happy to sneak in a good word with Greta if you think my opinion will help.”
I smiled at her gratefully. “Thanks. I’d really appreciate a good word from you. She seems to adore you.”
“Not a problem.” She patted the table as if the matter were settled, then a mischievous look crossed her features. “Now, tell me something I’ve been dying to know. What’s going on with you and that hottie, Brody?”
A small laugh escaped. Here I’d thought I was being so sly. “I don’t know exactly, but I really like him. I think he likes me, too. We’ve been flirting since before the retreat, and he almost kissed me last night. Oh, wow. I sound giddy, like I’m in seventh grade, don’t I?”
Her grin widened. “Kind of, but in a good way.”
“Now it’s your turn to tell me what’s going on with your hot firefighter.” I smiled, having forgotten how nice it felt to share everything with Charlie when it came to guys.
“His name is Wyatt. Isn’t that a perfectly normal name?” she asked, a gleam forming in her eyes. “And he’s just so . . . normal. I said that already, didn’t I?” She giggled. “Can you tell I miss having a regular everyday life? He’s sweet, for sure. He’s also . . . what’s the word? Humble. I’ve never actually been with a humble guy before. Rex wasn’t even humble before he hit it big, and his ego’s the size of the Grand Canyon now.” She put a hand to her mouth. “I can’t believe how good it feels to talk to someone I trust completely.”
My vision blurred again. Her trust meant a lot since she�
�d obviously had “friends” who sold her conversations to tabloids. Here I’d thought Charlie and I needed the trust exercises, when in reality we’d secured our faith in each other years before. No matter how much time had passed, we knew each other inside and out.
She got quiet for a minute. An odd look crossed her face—something bittersweet. “You still have feelings for him,” I said softly.
“Stupid, isn’t it? After all he’s put me through.” She fiddled with her fork, then set it down again. “I’ll probably always have feelings for him. When we got married, I thought we’d be together forever. But, in truth, things weren’t great even before he cheated on me.” She shrugged, tilting her head. “That’s why I kind of admire your dad for trying to win your mom back, even if you think it’s a futile endeavor. He still loves her, so why should he give up?”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” I said. “Things seem so impossible, but you’re probably right. He won’t know unless he tries.”
After a few moments of silence, she scooped up a bit of salmon. “Greta wants me to let her write a book about Rex. A tell-all. She keeps saying retelling my story would be cathartic for me. That writing Men: Who Needs Them? helped her get over her ex, for good. She says all I have to do is share the stories, and she’ll do the rest.”
Greta’s strange phone call came back into my thoughts. She must’ve been speaking with her publisher, who was probably urging Greta to convince Charlie to write this tell-all about Rex. Greta’s name was already huge, so add in a celebrity to the mix and the book would be a guaranteed bestseller.
From the strained expression on Charlie’s face, I could tell she was torn about whether or not to write the book. “Are you going to say yes?” I asked.
“Honestly? I don’t know,” she said, and shook her head.
We lapsed into a comfortable silence, and it felt good to be talking to Charlie again. I was about to ask her more about the tell-all when Greta walked in.
