by Kay Correll
He strolled down the streets, debating on whether to grab another ice cream cone at The Trixie Cone but decided against it. A couple of weeks of eating everything he wanted and not going to the gym wasn’t going to help him any with landing the next role he was hoping to get. He looked wistfully through the window as he determinedly passed by the ice cream shop. As if to torment him a little bit more, a couple came out of the shop, laughing and licking on ice cream cones. He smiled a forced smile at them and walked on by.
He pushed through the door of Whitney’s shop, and a friendly bell announced his entrance. She looked up from where she was sitting behind the counter, her head bent over her work, and smiled when she saw him.
“Come look. I’ve started on your grandmother’s jewelry. I found some wonderful pieces of emerald green sea glass.”
Her smile and eager words were impossible to resist. He crossed over to where she was working. She’d spread out a collection of sea glass and sorted out a few bright emerald pieces.
“Those are great. My grandmother has emerald green eyes and loves to wear that color. This is going to be perfect.”
“Well, I hope you like it when I get it all made up.”
“I’m sure I will.” Whitney made very creative jewelry pieces, and this was one thing he was confident of in his gala planning. He was sure his grandmother would love this jewelry set. Who knew he had the ability to pick out the perfect gift?
“You just out for a walk today? It’s a lovely day. One of those perfect summer days we’re known for. Not too hot, and a nice gentle breeze.”
“It is a perfect day. And your rental suggestion in Charleston had everything I needed. I can’t thank you enough for saving the gala.”
“I wouldn’t say I exactly saved it.”
“Close enough.” Not to mention she saved him from embarrassing himself in front of his family with a failure to pull off the party after assuring them he had it all under control. Not that any member of his family had actually believed he could do this.
“Well, I’m glad it worked out.” She shoved a few wisps of blonde curls away from her face. He tried not to stare at her delicate hands with their pale pink nails. Or her hair. Or her eyes. Her blue eyes the color of the sky on this perfect summer day.
“I actually… well, I was wondering…” Since when did he turn into a stuttering fool? “I wondered if I could take you to dinner. Just to say thank you for your help.” He hurried to add that caveat.
“Well, sure, I guess.”
Not the overwhelming acceptance he’d been hoping for. “I know it’s very last minute, but would you like to go tonight? I thought I’d make a reservation at a place in Charleston called Bistro Fifty.”
“I’ve never been there. I’d love to go.”
“The reviews I read sounded like it’s really great. If I pick you up at seven, would that work?”
“It would. I actually have help coming in the shop tonight, so I can leave a bit early.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you at seven.” He turned to walk away before she saw what he knew was a silly grin on his face. He was ridiculously happy that she’d said yes to his invitation.
Merry perched on the end of Whitney’s bed. She tilted her head to one side. “Not that one. It’s too casual.”
“Well, how fancy is this place?” Whitney scowled. She liked the dress she’d tried on. A simple, casual sundress.
“Well, I looked Bistro Fifty up online and read some reviews.”
“You did?” She stared at her friend.
“Of course I did. Right after you called me. I didn’t want to steer you wrong.” Merry popped off the bed. “I wonder what the fifty stands for in the name. Or maybe it’s just a trendy thing to put a number in the restaurant name.”
She marveled at her friend. She would never have thought to look up the place. “Okay, so what should I wear?”
“How about the blue dress you have? It brings out the color of your eyes.”
She rooted through her closet to the very back and pulled out a simple royal blue linen dress. She held it up and eyed it. She rarely wore it because linen wrinkled so badly, but she did think it looked good on her. “Okay, I’ll try this one on.”
She slowly turned around in front of the full-length mirror after she’d slipped on the dress. “Okay, I think this was a good choice.”
“Yes, it’s perfect.” Merry nodded. “Now, you need to wear heels with it.”
“I was thinking about just wearing my black flats.”
“Of course you were. Which is exactly why you have me as the perfect friend. Wear heels.”
Whitney sighed and looked through the shoe boxes on the upper shelf of her closet. The shoe boxes that held shoes she rarely wore. She found the box with some cream-colored heels and slipped them on. “I hope I don’t trip in these.”
Merry grinned. “You’ll be fine. Sometimes I think that being your friend is a full-time job.”
“Very funny.” She stuck her tongue out.
“Now, let’s find you the perfect necklace.”
“Ah, now jewelry, that I can do.” Whitney opened the large top drawer of her dresser and picked out a simple but elegant necklace she’d made.
Merry jumped up to fasten the necklace. “That looks perfect. Your jewelry is always so lovely.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, I’m going to fix your hair.”
“What do you mean fix it? It’s basically a pixie cut with a few longer wisps.”
“I brought some texturing gel to keep it under control.”
“Some what?” She eyed her friend.
“Sit. I promise you’ll like it.” Merry opened a small container and rubbed some white pasty-looking goo on her hands. She slid her fingers through Whitney’s hair, then picked at some locks until she was satisfied. “Go look in the mirror.”
She got up, walked back over to the mirror, and looked at her reflection. She had to admit that her hair did look nice. Just a bit of texture to her short locks. The blue dress and heels also looked nice, she grudgingly admitted to herself. “Thanks, Merry. I’d never have pulled this off without you. I mean, what do I know about what one wears when they are going out with a movie star?”
“You look perfect.” Merry squeezed Whitney’s shoulders. “Now, do you have a purse other than that old beat up one?”
“Over in the dresser. Second drawer.”
Merry crossed over and brought back a simple clutch bag. “Give me your purse. I’ll put your wallet and cell phone in here. Oh, and some lipstick.”
“You think of everything.”
“Hey, I’ve been waiting a long time for you to go on a real date. I want you to get it right.”
She wanted to get it right, too. Her pulse raced with just the thought of going out with someone famous. What did she know about going out with someone used to the jet-set crowd? But then, as soon as she thought of him as just Rick, it made her feel better.
They both turned at the sound of a knock at the door. Whitney took a deep breath.
“You going to answer that?” Merry grinned at her.
“Yes. I guess I’m ready.”
“You are. You look perfect, trust me.”
Rick stood at the door of Whitney’s cottage, a small bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand. He’d no idea why he was so nervous. It wasn’t like he didn’t go out on dates quite a bit. There was always some function his agent wanted him to go to. But somehow, this woman had managed to do what the most famous actress, or heiress, or anyone he’d dated had never done. She’d set him on edge and made him as nervous as he’d been on his first audition.
The door swung open, and the woman he’d run into at Whitney’s shop stood in the doorway. “Hi, I’m Merry. I was just leaving.” She slipped past him. “Oh, nice touch on the flowers.” The woman grinned. “You two have a good time.”
Then Whitney stood in front of him, looking so different than the woman who owned Coastal Creations and her simpl
e, casual everyday style. Not that he minded her everyday look, but she looked stunning tonight.
“You look great.”
She gave him a tentative smile. “Thank you.” She nervously ran her hand along the side of her dress.
“Oh, these are for you.” He stepped inside and handed her the flowers.
“Thank you. I’ll go put them in a vase.” She disappeared, then came back with the flowers in a vase and set them on a table. “They’re very pretty.”
He cleared his throat. “You ready to go?”
“I am.”
They walked outside and he held the door open for her to get into the red sports car. She slid into the passenger seat, offering him a good look at her long, tanned leg. He carefully closed the door behind her and walked around the car, getting his bearings. This woman had a way of knocking his senses off kilter.
He got into the car and the engine started with a low, purring growl. “Okay, off we go.”
They headed into Charleston, and Whitney sat quietly clutching her handbag. He knew he should start up a conversation, but words were failing him.
Say something.
“So, do you go into Charleston often for dinner?” That was the best he could come up with?
“Not often. Honestly, I’m usually so busy at the shop that I rarely even leave Indigo Bay. My brother keeps bugging me to come see him on Belle Island on the gulf coast of Florida, but I haven’t made time to do that in ages.”
“Any other family?”
“My father. He recently moved back to Indigo Bay after being gone for years.”
“That must be nice for you.”
“It’s an… adjustment. We were estranged for years, but I think we’ve worked things out.” She pressed her hand against her dress. “How about you? Family?”
“Ah, yes. I have family. My grandmother, of course. A brother and sister, my parents, nieces, aunts and uncles, and I’ve lost count of how many cousins.”
“Wow, that’s a lot. It’s just my father, my brother, and I. I can’t imagine having a big family like that.”
He hadn’t really thought about it. He did come from a huge family. He’d just accepted that was his life. Even if they were critical of him. Even if they drove him nuts at times. He guessed he was lucky to have that much family. Usually. “Well, most of them will be here for the gala. My brother will be here, and my sister will be here with her kids and stay at one of The Pink Ladies. So will my grandmother and my parents. A couple of aunts will be here with their broods. They all are staying around Indigo Bay or in Charleston. A lot of my grandmother’s friends are coming, too.”
“Sounds like it will be huge.”
“A couple hundred people, I guess.”
“Wow.”
He didn’t think it was that many people. He was used to huge shindigs in L.A. A couple hundred people were barely called a party in his circles. “Well, my grandmother does have a lot of friends, plus our family. It’s a lot, I guess.”
He pulled up in front of Bistro Fifty, and a valet opened the door for Whitney as he slid out of the driver’s seat. He tossed the keys to the valet and took Whitney’s arm. A young woman walked up to them and he paused.
“Oh, you’re Rick Nichols, aren’t you?”
He forced a smile and nodded. “I am.”
“Could I get a photo with you? Please?”
“Of course.” He knew that having his photo taken with fans was just part of his job, though Whitney looked a bit shocked.
The woman jumped beside them and snapped off a few selfies on her cell phone. “Thank you. Thank you. My friends will never believe I saw you—Rick Nichols—right here in Charleston.”
“You’re welcome.”
The girl walked away, busily tapping into her phone as she walked. He took Whitney’s elbow and led her into the restaurant. He noticed the stunned looked still plastered on her face.
“Mr. Nichols. We’re so glad to have you here.” The maitre d’ hurried up to them. “I have reserved our best table for you.”
“Thank you.” Rick had to admit that having actor status sometimes helped with getting the perfect reservation at the perfect table. At least the restaurant had recognized him even if Whitney hadn’t. He was going to get over that fact really soon. Maybe.
The man led them to their table and handed Rick an extensive wine list. “The wine steward will be over to take your order.”
He nodded as he opened the wine list.
“Does that happen often?” Whitney’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Does what happen?”
“People stopping you to get their picture taken with you.”
“Often enough. Hence the sunglasses and ball cap in Indigo Bay. Sometimes it’s just easier to be incognito. But the fans are what make my job. More fans, better roles.”
“It seems so… invasive.”
It was a bother sometimes, he’d admit that, but he’d come to realize it was part of his life. “Guess it just comes with the territory.”
“I don’t think I could handle that.” She shook her head. “I had a hard enough time when Shawna Jacobson bought jewelry from my shop and posted all over social media. I had reporters coming to do articles on me and my shop. It was so surreal. Though her doing that kind of made my shop the success it is now. It exploded with online sales as well as sales in the actual shop. I get a lot of custom orders.”
“Like my grandmother’s.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, the media attention might have attracted some business for you, but it’s your talent that really sells the pieces.”
She blushed a rosy pink. “Thank you.”
“No, I mean it. Your jewelry pieces are stunning and very unique. I can’t wait to give my grandmother the set you’re making.”
“I hope she’ll like it.”
“I’m sure she will.” He glanced at the wine list again. “So, shall I order us some wine?”
“Yes, please. I usually prefer a drier white.”
“Perfect, they have some unoaked white burgundy from the Alsace region.”
“That’s all French to me.” She grinned. “But I’ll trust you.”
He ordered their wine and glanced around the room. Some of the patrons were looking at him surreptitiously, but thank goodness no one had actually gotten up and come over to their table. He wasn’t sure Whitney would deal well with another intrusion.
Chapter 5
Whitney tried not to let her eyes widen at the prices on the menu. Nor did she know what half the items on the menu were. Or the sauces. How would she know if she was ordering something she’d enjoy? She sighed, knowing she was going to have to admit her ignorance to Rick. Rick, the movie star who was used to dining in places like fancy French restaurants with fancy French words.
She looked across the table at him, his head bent over the menu. “Um, Rick?”
He looked up and smiled at her and she almost dropped her menu. When would she develop a force field that protected her from that smile? “I don’t know what most of this stuff is.” She smiled ruefully. “Or what any of it says.”
“You’re in luck. My grandmother speaks fluent French and taught me. Do you like chicken or fish? Maybe beef?”
He ordered her meal without making her feel foolish about her lack of knowledge, and they sat back and sipped on the wine he’d ordered. It was really good wine even if she knew nothing about unoaked wine and wasn’t burgundy wine supposed to be red? She refused to ask him, unwilling to show any more of her cluelessness. Instead, she’d just fill the evening with small talk. That was safe. That was something she knew about.
“So, you said you have a brother and a sister. Where do they live?” She wanted to know more about Rick the person. Well, she wouldn’t mind knowing more about Rick the actor, too, but she didn’t want to sound like a groupie or something. Or were groupies just for rock stars? She wanted to know all the things about him, which bothered her a bit. She hadn’t been
this interested in a man in a long time. A very long time.
So she decided to be interested in an actor who lived all the way across the country? Not a very smart choice on her part.
Rick, oblivious to her rambling thoughts, answered her question. “My sister, Christina, lives in Philadelphia. That’s where we grew up. She’s a surgeon. My brother lives in D.C. He’s a lawyer there. My parents have a place in both Philadelphia and D.C.” He paused and took a sip of his wine. “My mother’s a senator.”
She sat back in silence. Actors, a doctor, a lawyer, and a senator for Pete’s sake. You couldn’t get a more degreed and notable family. She couldn’t be any different from him if she tried. Far apart in distance and in upbringing.
“I’m just a mere actor. The family’s black sheep.” His eyes twinkled, but she could see the tiniest bit of hurt in their blue depths.
“So being a famous actor is a black sheep?”
“Well, I’m not that famous.” He grinned. “You didn’t know who I was when you met me.”
She felt the heat of blush flush her face. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t… I mean…” How to get out of this gracefully? “I don’t see movies often, and I’m not a television fan. Merry says I live in my own little world… and it drives her nuts.”
“No, I’m just teasing about you not recognizing me. As far as my family is concerned, I’m a very mediocre one, especially compared to my grandmother. My mother hoped I’d follow along in her footsteps in politics, or at least go on to law school. But, to her great chagrin, I never finished college and moved out to Los Angeles.”
“But your grandmother must be pleased.”
“I think she is. I doubt if I’ll ever reach her level of famousness—is that even a real word?”
She couldn’t believe his family wouldn’t be proud of him, but then she knew better than most that families could be difficult.
“You said your brother lives on an island in Florida?”
“Yes, he owns a tavern there on Belle Island.” She owned a jewelry business, Willy owned a tavern, and her father was a barely sober recovering alcoholic. She and her family were not even in Rick’s league. But he’d only asked her out to thank her for her help. It wasn’t like it was a real date or anything.
