by Olivia Miles
She hadn’t been in the office since yesterday afternoon, when she’d left to attend a menu tasting with a new client. Now she sorted through the handwritten stack of messages that Sara, the office receptionist, had left on her desk in her absence. She read them quickly, barely bothering to skim for anything other than a potential crisis, and then breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that nothing had gone wrong—no vendor conflicts, no flowers stuck in transit, nothing that could somehow be pinned on her, because that was what Meredith was hoping to do, of course. Next she scanned through her emails, happy to see that the photographer had sent a confirmation for next Saturday’s events. One less thing to worry about, she thought, rubbing her forehead. Still, she’d go over the key poses and general schedule. Just to be sure.
She pulled the hefty Jones-Montgomery binder from her bag and flicked through the vendor contracts and itineraries, but she knew them by heart. There was nothing left to check or recheck.
Kate shut the binder and pushed it to the edge of her desk. She leaned forward and put her head in her hands—a brief indulgence she could permit herself only behind closed doors. Any further weakness right now would result in a pink slip. It didn’t matter how hard her heart was breaking, or how nerve-wracking it was to know this was her last shot. She had to pull it together. It was that simple.
“Kate?” At the sound of Meredith’s sharp, rapping tone, Kate startled and tipped over her coffee mug, which was thankfully empty.
“Yes?” she called out, and then cursed under her breath. She could have been in Boston now. Should have been in Boston. Living in Jake’s town house. Working for that event planning company she’d had two interviews with right before—
Well. No sense in thinking about that.
Meredith appeared in the doorway. All five foot two of her. Her blond hair was still pulled into the bouncy ponytail she sported all through high school, but the brightness in her blue eyes had dulled over the years.
Kate would have been happy to commiserate. Thirty was a far cry from eighteen, when the world felt so full of promise. But something told her that Meredith wasn’t interested in a little pity party over a bottle of rosé anytime soon. No, Meredith, as she loved to tell everyone, drank only French Champagne. And that wasn’t exactly in Kate’s budget at the moment.
Because yes, fine, she would admit it: sometimes she did still dare to dream. It was a brisk, fleeting, maybe even foolish moment when she stowed an extra twenty in her Future jar, as she’d fondly called it. Usually by the time she was screwing on the lid she was muttering under her breath, becoming angry at herself for even daring to think that things might turn around or something might actually work out. But every once in a while, when she passed the jar, her heart sped up and for a moment…
Meredith cleared her throat. A truly tedious habit that made her seem like an old schoolmarm, not a girl who deep down loved nothing more than flipping cartwheels while her cheerleading skirt flew up to her waist.
“Hello, Meredith,” Kate said pleasantly. She was genuinely smiling, unable to shed the image of the former Meredith from her mind.
“I thought I heard you came in.”
It amazed Kate that such a simple observation could be made into an accusation.
Meredith slipped into one of the two light blue velvet visitor chairs opposite Kate’s antique ivory desk. Her petite frame was clothed in an expensive ivory suit. Her unreadable eyes stared through Kate until she began to squirm in her seat.
Rather than giving Kate credit for being at work on what was technically her day off, given that she had no event to oversee today, Meredith remarked, “It’s always a surprise to see you here. Ever since that five-month vacation you took, I have to do a double take when I actually see you come through the door.”
Kate silently counted to three. “It was one month, Meredith,” she said evenly. “And it wasn’t a vacation.”
It was a leave of absence. A medical leave of absence. And Meredith knew it. And the reason behind it. Hell, the whole town knew the reason behind it, much to her horror. But while most were kind, if pitying, others, like Meredith, never ceased to find an opportunity to scratch that wound.
Meredith just shrugged. “If you say so.”
A heavy knot formed in Kate’s stomach. It was a sentiment she had become all too familiar with since returning to Bride by Design. It was the feeling of defeat. Silence fell over the room as Kate talked herself out of saying something she would regret. She loved being a wedding planner—even now, in spite of everything—and she wouldn’t let anyone take that away from her. She’d lost enough already.
“How’s the Jones-Montgomery planning going?” Meredith inquired.
“Good,” Kate said with more conviction than she felt. Seeing this as an opportunity to exhibit her competence, she pulled the checklist to the front of her desk and skimmed it quickly. “The flowers are scheduled to arrive Friday. The cake will arrive two hours prior to the reception. Elizabeth had a dress fitting today, and I don’t foresee any further alterations.”
“What about the suits?” Meredith interjected.
Kate swallowed hard. She hadn’t been questioned on such basic tasks since she first shifted over from assistant to planner more than five years ago. It was Meredith’s way of trying to wear her down and push her out. She was no dummy. But until Kate had something else lined up, she would stand her ground.
“All the men have been fitted but one. The best man is scheduled to have a fitting tomorrow at ten,” Kate replied, not bothering to elaborate on the fact that she was personally going to oversee the appointment. If she didn’t, there was a strong chance Alec wouldn’t bother to go. His mind was obviously elsewhere; he had openly admitted that he was in town to work, not partake in the wedding festivities. But Meredith didn’t need to know about this issue—it would only alarm her. Besides, Kate had it under control.
Or, at least she hoped.
* * *
Two hours later, Kate unloaded the last gift basket from the trunk of her car. Balancing it with two others as best she could, she used her hip to force the passenger door closed. An older gentleman was kind enough to hold the hotel door for her, and always surprised lately to see that chivalry was not completely dead, she breezed into the cool, air-conditioned lobby of the Beacon Inn with a smile that could only be brought on by a warm heart.
“This should be the last of them,” she told the woman behind the front desk. She slid her eyes down the hotel’s reservation list one more time, taking care in cross-referencing it with the out-of-town guest list she had printed at the office. Most would be arriving on Thursday and Friday, but Kate already felt lighter knowing that the welcome baskets were dropped off at the hotel, ready and waiting as the guests filtered in. “One per room,” she added, her pen poised over her list. “Not per guest.”
A deep, gravelly voice purred into her ear, causing her to jump. “So you were the one behind the basket of treats in my room?”
Kate whipped around to face Alec square in the eye, and her heart skipped a beat when she took in his chiseled face and twinkling eyes. She soaked in the broad, muscular chest that was hidden behind a crisp button-down shirt he had casually rolled to the elbows, and okay, her knees went a little weak.
Eye candy, she reminded herself. She could look. But she could definitely not touch.
“It’s a welcome basket.” She felt a twinge of pride that he had noticed her effort. She’d stayed up way too late three nights last week compiling them. “All the wedding guests staying at the hotel receive one.”
Alec’s lips twitched into a smile. “And here I thought it was something special just for me. Mixed nuts are my favorite, you know.”
Kate narrowed her gaze, flashes of her ex-fiancé blinking as bright as a fire alarm. The man was full of himself, and if he was looking for a girl to stroke his ego, he was looking in the wrong place. So he was cute. Lots of men were. And most of them, from her experience, were not worth falling for.
“The saltwater taffies are made locally, and I thought everyone would enjoy—” Kate began, and then faltered as she saw the sheen in Alec’s eyes. Pinching her lips, she looked away and then said briskly, “I should get running along to meet the girls. And you should probably be leaving to meet William soon.”
“Leaving so soon?” he asked, casually leaning a hip into the counter.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “You suddenly have time to spare?”
He looked her up and down, his lips curving slowly and—dare she say it—suggestively. “Honey, I always have time for a pretty woman.”
Kate narrowed her eyes. Once, she would have basked in that kind of comment. Now…
She straightened her stance. “First, I’m not your honey. Second, you hardly had time for me this afternoon, and my looks haven’t changed since then. In fact, neither has my outfit.”
His gaze dropped to linger on her pencil skirt. A flattering purchase thanks to the Spanx she faithfully wore underneath, but one she suddenly regretted. The last thing she needed was for him to go getting any ideas.
She lifted her tote from the front desk counter and shrugged it onto her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the suit fitting,” she said through a tight, professional smile, but Alec’s firm grip on her upper arm halted her. Heart thumping, she shifted her eyes to meet his.
She hadn’t been touched by a man other than her father since Jake. Hadn’t wanted to. At first she didn’t want the memory of his touch to be replaced or tainted. She wanted it to linger, to savor it, even when she knew she shouldn’t, that she was just making it worse for herself. But she couldn’t help it. Clinging to those feelings—the weight of his arm around her waist when they slept, the smooth, firm hold of his hand on hers—it was the only thing she had to remind herself that she wasn’t crazy. That he’d loved her…once.
“Wasn’t there something you needed to tell me?” Alec asked, waiting patiently for her response, but all she could do was stare at him blankly. “Are they going to be able to do the raw bar at the rehearsal dinner?”
Kate felt her face blanch. “Oh, that.” She’d completely forgotten.
It was a small oversight, one she could have dealt with tomorrow, or maybe even Monday, but it would have been just enough to have Meredith sailing into her office, looking for trouble.
She vowed to add another twenty to the Future jar tonight.
Alec slowly loosened his hold on her arm. He shrugged as he jammed his hands into his pockets. “Don’t worry. I called myself. We’re all set.”
Well, he could have told her that in the first place. “Thank you,” she said. Eager to get back on better footing, she asked, “Did you see the itinerary in your basket?”
“Couldn’t miss it,” he remarked, and Kate felt her shoulders relax. She’d worked hard on that schedule, printing it on heavy cardstock and including a watercolor image of the Misty Point Lighthouse. It was all in the details, after all…
“Well, if you have any questions about other things to do in town, I’m happy to refer you to some of our hot spots.”
“Hot spots.” Alec looked at her warily. “What exactly do people do around here for fun?”
Kate shrugged and jammed her pen back into the pocket of her handbag to avoid eye contact. She could hardly admit to him that she spent most of her evenings at home these days or that she looked forward to her trash TV and wine night with Elizabeth more than was probably normal. She’d always been a homebody, and she didn’t see anything wrong with it, but she doubted a man like Alec sat home alone each night. He was probably too busy dining in the best restaurants night after night, throwing around his money on his flavor of the week.
“I probably spend my evenings much the same way you do,” she said simply.
“The same way I do?” Alec repeated. He leaned into the counter, folding his hands at his chest. She couldn’t help it; she glanced. Hard and a little chiseled, and those shoulders…“I doubt that.”
Kate tipped her head. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I spend most of my evenings in the office,” he explained. “And the nights I’m not sitting behind a desk, I’m busy schmoozing at charity events and dinners.”
Kate peered at him thoughtfully, trying to assess the validity of his statement. It seemed plausible enough—after all, Elizabeth had made it clear that he made no time for a personal life—but it was hard to believe with his good looks that he didn’t have anything—or anyone—else in his life. “Surely there must be something you enjoy other than work.”
Alec jutted his bottom lip. “Guess I haven’t stopped to think about it.”
“So all work and no play, then.” She could be accused of the same these days.
Alec’s lips curled into a mischievous smirk. “Well, now, I wouldn’t say no play…”
Kate worked hard not to roll her eyes. For some reason she felt as disappointed as she did disgusted. It wasn’t that Alec had women in his life. Heck, he could have a harem of women—and he probably did—and it wouldn’t matter. What mattered was that his casual admittance to his nighttime activities only served as a fresh reminder that Kate was not so lucky these days. Romance didn’t come easily to her—she couldn’t embrace that same casual attitude about it that Alec possessed. And she wished she could. She wished desperately that she could.
If she could just move on…somehow. Then she might finally stand a chance at picking up the pieces of her broken heart.
She managed a smile as she hitched her handbag tighter. “Well, I should go.”
He nodded, but showed no sign of moving. “Enjoy your wild night.”
Kate laughed. It would hardly be a wild night, but dinner out with the girls was exactly what she needed right now. There was no room for a man in her life. Especially the one standing in front of her.
Chapter Four
It wasn’t until Kate had pulled to a stop on her gravel driveway that Meredith’s voice had faded from her mind and she finally felt her shoulders relax. Somehow, it didn’t matter what she knew to be true, her boss had a way of rattling her, homing in on all her little insecurities, making her question her past, her present, and more than anything, her future.
Despite everything that had happened in the past year, she still loved being a wedding planner. Loved thinking through each detail, making each event unique and special and beautiful. She never tired from seeing the months—or sometimes years—of planning come together for a few, fleeting, magical hours. She was forever inspired by new venue locations, food presentations, and flower trends. To lose that…She’d lost enough already.
She set a hand to her stomach, reminding herself as she always did that there was no use taking the office home with her, at least, not her boss’s icy warnings and threats. Worrying would only make things worse.
She sighed and sat in the car after she’d turned off the ignition to admire the small white cottage that was now her home, a reminder that things were improving and that her life had moved forward…somehow. When Jake had called off the wedding—if you could call it that—she’d been unable to see even one day ahead, much less a month or a year. Yet here she was. Settled. Happy. Or at least content.
She hadn’t thought it was possible at first. But it was Elizabeth who had been there, showing up at her then apartment door with wine and chocolate and those celebrity magazines they used to love so much. Elizabeth made an effort to point out all the divorces, especially the really messy ones, and Kate had loved her for it. And it did brighten her spirits to see that she wasn’t alone, and that even though Elizabeth was falling in love with a guy who was in many ways a kinder, better, more loyal version of Jake, she understood.
Jake hadn’t just been Kate’s fiancé. He was the only guy she’d ever really loved. And she hadn’t been good enough.
“Nonsense!” Elizabeth had scoffed when Kate ever voiced her deepest feelings. “You were too good!”
In time, Kate had come to know that El
izabeth was right. She’d stopped missing Jake before he’d even moved back to Boston. Her hurt was replaced by white-hot anger and a pain far deeper than losing your fiancé and all the dreams you’d built around him. He hadn’t just let her down. He’d betrayed her.
She blinked, then forced her eyes on the house and the puffy peonies that were on their last bloom. She’d clip some tonight, before it was too late and their petals scattered in the wind. So there was no man around to give her flowers. She’d give herself flowers. At least then she could be sure she always received the variety she liked, not those orange tiger lilies Jake had been partial to sending her on her birthday.
She always felt better when she saw the three-bedroom Cape that she’d purchased just after Christmas—a new start for a new year, she’d told herself. Though small, it was cozy and far from cramped, and anything bigger would have only made her feel alone, like something was missing.
And something was missing, she knew, when she dared to admit it to herself. A few things, really. But in their place she had filled her life with new treasures, from a favorite book to the sweet little dog who was now staring at her out the window, his paws on the sill of the dining room windows, his ears alert, and no doubt his tail wagging.
At the sight of Henry, Kate felt her face break into a grin, and she thrust open the car door, eliciting a series of yelps that could be heard through the glass. She hurried to the front door, stopping only to pull her mail from the old-fashioned box that was nailed to the cedar siding, and bent down to pet her puppy as soon as she’d turned the key.
Henry licked her face excitedly and bounced on his hind legs as Kate reached for the leash she kept on a hook near the door. She knew she should probably crate him when she was gone, but she didn’t have the heart to do it, not when he had so much fun playing with his toys and exploring the house. When Henry had first come into her life, she’d spent all day with him—they went everywhere together, even the grocery store until he’d been discovered in her handbag and they’d been asked to leave—and now that she was back at work, well, Henry hadn’t adjusted well to that, if the chewed-up corner of her armchair said anything.
