by Aven Ellis
A beautiful white cake was brought out next and was served with champagne. Now people have drifted off around Beckett’s property, some enjoying the fire pit, others dancing on the terrace, and some hanging out inside. Beckett hired a fleet of drivers to take everyone safely back to Chicago, and they are waiting on the driveway for the party to end.
I’ve finally gotten to a point where I can relax. The caterers are packing up the kitchen, the bartenders are closing down, and I can start taking down the décor as soon as everyone leaves.
I never eat when I’m working, and normally I’d be ravenous at this point, but it’s hard to be ravenous when your stomach is in twisted nervous excitement because of a certain goalie in attendance.
Luca and I have been exchanging glances all night. I was busy with dinner service, cake slicing, and getting Taylor up on Connectivity, but I couldn’t resist stealing looks at him. Every time our eyes met, I felt a shiver of excitement race down my spine.
I hope I get to talk to him before he leaves.
“Ms. Brady?”
I turn and find Carla, the caterer, standing behind me.
“Can you come inside and direct us where to put the cookie favors?” Carla asks.
Right. One more thing on my list, making sure engagement ring sugar cookies with Landon and Livy piped on them are ready to be given to guests as they leave.
I head back inside and show Carla the spot in the foyer I picked out for the purpose and instruct them to set up a folding table for the bags.
“Make sure the table cloth is covering it,” I say. “And triple check that each one has a Save the Date card for the wedding in it, yes?”
Carla nods. “Will do.”
“Perfect, thank you,” I say, smiling at her. I’ve worked with Carla on several events, and she is such a pro. I swear I’d cry if she ever quit her job as catering manager.
I turn to go back outside, but Landon stops me, putting his hand out so I can’t move.
“You’re off the clock now, Collins,” Landon says, flashing me a smile. “We’ve had the perfect engagement party. You’ve outdone yourself for us, and we couldn’t be more grateful.”
Happiness fills me. I love this part of my job, when I organize an event and everything goes smoothly and my clients—or in this case, friends—are happy.
“The party isn’t over, Landon,” I say cheerfully.
Landon cocks an eyebrow. “It is for you. Working on it, I mean. Livy and I want you to have fun. Everything is under control, and my guess is, if some crisis with parting gifts comes up, we can handle it.”
“No, Landon, that’s my jo—”
“You’re fired.”
I stare at him. “What?”
“You’re fired. On the spot. Collins Brady of Suzanne’s Soirées, you are no longer working my event. But because I’m a great guy, you can help yourself to something to eat and drink. Bonus points if you go talk to that goalie dude who has been waiting to talk to you all night.”
Then he winks at me and walks away.
Did Livy say something to him?
What if Luca did?
Ooh, what if he did?
“Collins, sweetheart, we’re leaving,” a familiar male voice says.
I turn around and find my mother and father standing behind me.
“Okay,” I say, hugging them both. “I’ll see you tomorrow for Sunday brunch.”
Mom makes a face and touches my cheek. “I wish you would have lived at home a little longer. You didn’t have to move out this past month, you know. The house is empty without you.” She stiffens as if she failed by letting that sentiment escape. “But I suppose it’s what professional young women do, they move out and into the city. I thought it would be for Gabe, you know, but sometimes things don’t work out. We have to trust that, even when it doesn’t make sense.”
Oh my God. She’s bringing up Gabe. Again. Maybe it’s because I’m tired of it or maybe it’s because of Luca, but talk of him is more irritating than usual tonight.
“It does make sense because I don't love him,” I say bluntly. “Gabe said some evil, horrible, nasty things to me and about me after we broke up, and that alone should make you happy that I ended it.”
Mom blinks. I can tell she doesn’t like the turn the conversation has taken.
“I don’t like hearing these things, Collins,” she says, shaking her head. “I don’t like such ugliness.”
“Then let’s stop talking about him,” I say firmly.
“You’re obviously tired. Or cranky from lack of food. Please get something to eat, and we’ll see you tomorrow, all normal and bright like sunshine,” Mom says, nodding at me as she walks out the door.
She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t want to get it. If she had her way, I’d marry Gabe because it was more pleasant than telling her friends I was with a man I didn’t love and broke it off when he wanted to look at rings.
“Collins,” my dad says, his voice gentle, “you know your mother doesn’t cope well with life’s difficulties. It’s best we humor her.”
It’s all I can do not to scream. Most of my life has been spent hiding the way I feel from my parents. I think I was in the mess with Gabe because of how I was raised. I should have felt happy with him, so I forced it. I should have loved him because he’s perfect on paper, so I did—even though I didn’t, not in the I want to be with you forever kind of way.
“I’m going now, sweetheart,” Dad says, kissing me on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”
“Right,” I say softly, watching him take a bag of cookies and walk out the door.
I turn around and move through the crowd in Beckett’s den then slip back outside, wanting to clear my head after that conversation. I don’t need this now. Not tonight. Not when I’m starting to feel like taking a chance on romance again.
I step back onto the terrace and instinctively look for Luca.
But I can’t find him.
My heart sinks as I search for him. He’s nowhere to be found. Not dancing on the terrace, not at the fire pit, not clustered in a group conversation. I notice some of the other players have already left. Did Luca go with them while I was working?
Defeat swallows me. Maybe Luca changed his mind. Or got bored waiting for me to finish my work. That’s the negative thing about being an event planner. I work nights, I work Saturdays, and I get home late. I’m not easy to date, I know that.
Crap. I’ve gone off the deep end. Luca introduced himself to me. Talked to me. Flirted a bit. Exchanged looks with me from across the terrace.
That’s it.
That. Is. It.
I shouldn’t be upset.
Disappointed.
That’s how I should feel. Disappointed, but not upset.
But I can’t help it.
I feel like I missed a connection. Like in the movies. When your life could end up one way if you had done one little thing differently. But you didn’t, so you are on a completely opposite track.
Hmm. I should consider a new career writing screenplays for Hallmark instead of supervising weddings and corporate luncheons.
Buzz!
My phone vibrates in my hand. I flip it over and see a number I don’t recognize. Curious, I read the text.
Whoever you hired to re-light the candles is terrible.
Oh my God.
It’s a text from Luca.
Chapter 4
Always be ready to take action . . .
Every nerve in my body jumps the second I realize the text is from Luca. I instinctively look toward the lake, to the cobblestone fence, and indeed, the same three candles we lit earlier are blown out.
Illuminated by the moonlight is Luca, standing in front of the fence.
Waiting
for me.
As an event planner, I’m always prepared to take action. I can solve problems on the fly and make snap decisions.
Right now, I’m making one of those decisions.
I’m going to take action tonight with Luca.
I take off my shoes and hold them in one hand so I can walk easier on the lush lawn. I make my way down the grass, my excitement increasing as I move toward him.
As I get closer, I see his suit jacket is already off, and Luca has it draped over one arm. His beautiful eyes are locked on mine, and I feel my heart beating like crazy out of my chest.
What a wonderful, magical combination. I feel more alive in this moment than I have in a long time.
I stop in front of him, once again drinking in the sight of him illuminated by the light of the full moon shining overhead.
Luca doesn’t speak. He moves around me and drapes his coat over my shoulders. Swoon.
He sits down on the fence, and I do the same, parking my cell phone and shoes next to me.
“It’s a shame you had to come down here to check these candles,” Luca says. Then he smiles at me. “Good help is so hard to find these days.”
“I know. I have a feeling these candles are the reason I got fired from this job, too,” I say, setting him up.
A crease forms in Luca’s brow. “What? Fired? What are you talking about?”
I sigh heavily for dramatic effect. “Landon fired me. He said I was officially off the clock now.”
I see recognition in Luca’s eyes, and a slow, sexy smile spreads across his face. “Landy can be brutal. How are you holding up? That had to be devastating.”
“It was soul destroying,” I quip.
Luca rakes a hand through his hair, and I marvel at the unique combination of brown and red. I snap a picture in my head of this moment, of Luca in his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing huge, muscular forearms. The way his hair moves wildly when he touches it, how the breeze from the lake carries his crisp cologne scent toward me every now and then.
Pure. Magic.
A moment I never want to forget.
“Sometimes devastating losses lead to better things,” he says.
Excitement races through my every nerve.
“Very true. One has to be brave enough to confront the truth,” I counter. “Sadly, my truth is that I needed to quit working so I could spend the rest of the night having fun.”
“Are you?” Luca asks softly.
“I am now,” I admit.
Luca smiles in response, and I smile back at him.
“We do need to talk about your truth, though,” I say.
“Oh?”
“Yes. I don’t think you followed me down here because I was storming off to the lake.”
Luca’s expression doesn’t change.
Hmm. I wonder if this is his goalie face.
If so, it’s very good. If I caught him off guard, he’s not showing it.
“I didn’t?”
“No, you knew who I was, from Livy’s website. Therefore, I’m not the only one who lied tonight,” I tease.
Luca studies me. “It was a lie of omission, maybe; I’ll give you that.”
“Luca,” I say, my tone serious, “why did you want to meet me after seeing that website picture?”
“It’s not obvious?” Luca asks, surprise resonating in his deep voice.
“No.”
“Have you ever seen a picture of someone that made you intrigued and want to know their story? That’s what happened with you.”
I furrow my brow. “What story?”
Luca is silent for a moment. “I think you have a lot of stories, Collins.”
Ooh!
“You are uniquely beautiful; I won’t lie. That’s what caught my attention at first,” Luca continues. “Then seeing you posing with a horse, I couldn’t get over how genuinely happy you looked. Livy told me the horse was yours. While she went on to talk about bracelets, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. The girl with the cool name. The girl with the freckles and the light-brown hair and the toffee-colored eyes. The girl who loves horses. I wanted to know her story. Your story.”
I stare back at him, impressed with his honesty. This is a man who doesn’t play games. Luca is direct. He takes charge and goes after what he wants.
He took action tonight, just like I did.
“Hopefully, my story will live up to what you envisioned,” I say.
Luca is quiet for a moment. His hazel eyes linger on mine.
“So far it has.”
Zing! Pure electricity shoots down my spine. Never in my life have I had a reaction to a man like this.
Then again, I’ve never met a man like Luca.
I clear my throat and turn my gaze back up to Beckett’s house. “I will only share my story if I get to hear yours.”
“More than fair.”
I turn back to him. “Good.”
“Tell me about the horse.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You are going to be so sorry you asked that.”
Luca grins at me. “Why is that funny?”
“I can talk for hours about horses.”
Luca flips up his right arm and gazes down at the huge silver watch adorning his wrist.
“I’ve got a few hours. You’re good.”
“You’re left-handed.”
Luca’s eyes dance at me. “You’re observant.”
“It’s part of my job, remember?”
“But you’ve been fired, remember?” he counters.
“My job now is to get to know you,” I reply smartly.
Whoa! Where did that come from? I mentally give myself a pat on the back for coming up with such a confident pickup line.
“I like your job change,” Luca says.
“Me, too,” I say, unable to tear my eyes away from his.
“So, tell me about horses.”
I smile. “I’m obsessed with them.”
“When did it start?” Luca asks, placing his hands behind him on the stone and casually leaning backward, as if settling in to hear me talk.
I turn and carefully tuck my legs underneath me. The cold rock brushes against my bare skin, but I don’t care. I only want to talk to Luca. Nothing else matters.
“When I was a little girl, I fell in love with horses. It didn’t matter if they were on TV or in picture books, I wanted one. Not a pony. A horse. I continually begged my parents to let me take a lesson at the horse farm down the road, the one that backed up against a nature preserve. Mom and Dad caved after months of me relentlessly asking. They put me on a horse at age five, and it was magic. I loved every second of it. From the way the horse smelled to the feeling of being in the saddle.
“One day, I saw jumpers in the arena, and I was like, ‘I want to do that,’” I continue. “Mom said I had to learn English riding first, so I did. But once I got to jump, it became my true passion.”
“What do you like about jumping?” Luca asks, studying me.
I smile brightly. “What do I not love about it? Oh my gosh, it’s the greatest feeling in the world. When jumping your horse over a fence, there is a split second of pure flight. I can’t get enough of it. It’s an adrenaline rush like no other.” Then I laugh. “But I do fall a lot, so I’ve eaten a good share of dirt, too. I remember the first time I sailed over the head of a horse. Thank God Mom didn’t see. She would have ended the lessons right then and there.”
Luca grins. “Eaten dirt, I like that.”
“I’ve broken my arm, cracked a rib, and gotten a ton of bruises, but I don’t care. I won’t give it up.” I shift on the rock, angling my body more toward him. “Okay. Next question.”
“Did you grow
up in the Chicago area?” Luca asks.
I nod. “Yes, the far northern suburbs, down the road from the horse farm. Where are you from?”
“Chicago suburbs, like you,” Luca says. “Northbrook.”
“Wow! You’re playing for your hometown team. That must mean a lot.”
“Crazy, isn’t it?” Luca asks, touching his hair again. “Born here, my family is still here, and I got drafted by the Buffaloes at eighteen. I played in the minor leagues, made it up to the top team in Milwaukee quickly, and then got the call last spring to replace Ben, the number one goalie. I’ve been up here ever since.”
“That’s crazy,” I say. “What are the odds of playing for the team you grew up watching?”
“Yes, but it’s also a lot of pressure,” Luca admits. Then he smiles at me. “I have another horse question.”
I’m beaming. “Of course. Twist my arm and ask me more,” I say happily.
“Do you still ride?”
“Yes. I rode at Purdue. I was on their equestrian team and brought my horse to college with me. I showed in English there. Then in the summers, I’d jump. I would love to compete now, in jumping, but most horse shows are on weekends and I’m usually working events, so I can’t. But I ride every week. It’s a part of me.”
“I can see that,” Luca says. “Your eyes light up when you talk about your horse. What do you own, by the way?”
“A Thoroughbred. He’s gorgeous. His name is—”
“Ballerini! Car is leaving!” someone yells from the top of the terrace.
Luca lets out a heavy sigh. “Shit. That’s my ride.” He stands up. “Give me five minutes!” he yells back toward the terrace.
I bite my lip. I don’t want him to go, not when I just sat down to talk to him.
