Saved by the Bride (Wedding Fever (Carina))

by Lowe, Fiona

  Last night’s humiliation at the Whitetail Police Department circled him and he cut to the chase. “We need to talk.”

  His father didn’t break his stride. “Whatever it is can wait until I’ve had breakfast.”

  Finn caught him up. “No, it can’t wait.” He played the line he’d been raised on. “It’s business.”

  Sean muttered something that sounded like, “It always is,” but Finn knew he’d never say that so he must have misheard.

  Sean slapped the paper against his hand. “If it’s about machine number four, I’ve spoken to Germany.”

  The ruthless entrepreneur who’d turned a small business into a mega one cut across his manicured lawn and sat down at a large teak, outdoor table and flicked open the paper. “So you can relax now and enjoy your weekend. I’ll see if the Cubs whooped the Brewers.”

  Finn ground his teeth. “It’s got nothing to do with number four and everything to do with your signature on the deed to the Whitetail business park.”

  “What about it?”

  “Letting me know we’d bought it would have been good.”

  Sean lowered the paper and shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I picked up two small warehouses we got in a fire sale when Reggies went to the wall. Think of them as a real estate investment.”

  Finn pressed his hands onto the table. “The big deal is they’re an investment we don’t need when we’re currently cutting back in other areas.”

  His father’s shrewd gray eyes suddenly looked interested. “Really? That’s the big deal, Finnegan?”

  The big deal is that a woman with cherry-red lips and cornflower-blue eyes made me look like a fool. No way in hell was he admitting to that. “If I’m to do my job properly I need to be fully briefed. Pulling crap like this makes a mockery of my position of being second in charge.”

  Sean gave him a long look and eventually cleared his throat. “You’re right. You need all the information and I should have told you.”

  His gut dropped to his feet. It wasn’t a reply he’d expected. He couldn’t ever recall a time when his father had admitted to being wrong. Feeling totally adrift in a boat full of leaking indignation, he grunted out, “Good, I’m glad we’re on the same page then.” Only it didn’t feel like that at all. “I’m heading back to Chicago.”

  “Excellent. Take Hank with you and meet the German engineer who’s on tonight’s plane.” Sean picked up the paper.

  Finn did a double take. His father was a hands-on businessman and the Illinois plant was his baby. Look out anyone who tried to run it. The two times Finn had brought up succession planning his father had refused to discuss it in any shape or form. “So, you’re not coming?”

  A voice sounded from behind the paper. “Only if you can’t handle it.”

  Confusion mixed in with disbelief. The fact Sean didn’t want to handle it and control everything had his head spinning with a thousand questions. “Of course I can handle it.”

  “Good.” Sean leaned back, paper rustling. “What a glorious day. On your way out, ask Bridey or Dana to send out coffee.”

  Finn strode toward the French doors convinced his father was losing it.

  * * *

  “Being in court will be the ideal place to talk to Sean Callahan because he has to be there, and he has to listen.”

  Annika addressed the town meeting after The Bugle’s online and print edition had published the details of her arrest. To Rory’s credit—and he had her eternal gratitude—he’d only released the bare facts but that was enough to require some heavy-duty spin-doctoring. Thank goodness no one had heard she’d been draped over the dark and soulless Finn Callahan, or worse still that she’d been so stupid to be rendered boneless by a mind-altering kiss. A kiss she hadn’t realized had been calculated to see how far she’d put out. Her cheeks burned hot at the memory and her conscience berated her.

  You have no clue about men. Seriously, no clue...

  “The dress is ruined,” Melissa grumbled.

  “I’ll pay for it.” Annika restated her earlier promise despite the fact it would totally empty her bank account and she’d have to tell Ellery she couldn’t make rent. Again.

  You know what to do. Finish the final painting in the Dawn, Day and Dusk series that the Milwaukee Gallery’s waiting on. The one you told them would be done by summer and you haven’t even started yet.

  She shoved that particular thought way down deep. It was easier to worry about Whitetail than to think about painting. “Everyone, I’ve been doing a bit of resear—”

  “Will Bridget Callahan be at the court?” Mrs. Norell interrupted, her face animated. “Perhaps we could put on a mini wedding expo outside to catch her attention.”

  “That’s an excellent idea and I can park my horse and carriage in front of the court,” Al suggested. “Prissy will happily stand there for an hour if she has hay.”

  “I suppose I could dress one of my mannequins in a bridal dress and put it in the carriage,” Melissa offered, shooting a telling look at Annika. “I mean it’s unlikely to get dirty because it won’t be climbing through a window.”

  “The summer hanging baskets on Main Street are still pretty from Jennifer’s wedding,” Mrs. Norell effused. “Nicole, you should groom a wig for the mannequin so Miss Callahan knows we can do hair and makeup too. I could mind little Max for you if that helps.”

  “Thanks, Ella. He always enjoys visiting your garden.”

  John Ackerman piped up with, “You can use my display boards from the market. Anni, you can pin up some of your invitations and everyone can use the holders for their business cards. I’ll ring the chef at the Supper Club and contact Sherri at Lundstrom’s bakery so they can put their cards there as well.”

  A twitter of noise rose as more and more people called out suggestions.

  Annika hit her gavel hard on the lectern. She loved these people dearly but they didn’t seem to realize that the town needed real jobs. “I love your enthusiasm for this idea but is it realistic? We need jobs now and I’m worried this wedding idea won’t provide regular jobs that put food on the table.”

  A grumble rumbled around the hall and Annika let out a long sigh. They were keen to try despite the fact that Bridget Callahan was unlikely to come into town and see the display, let alone commit to marrying in Whitetail. Biting her lip, she weighed up the pros and cons. She valued the fact they wanted to try but she didn’t want them to go to all that effort only to be hurt and disappointed. But they wanted to be involved and she appreciated that. So while she was busy securing Whitetail a real industry, where was the harm in a mini wedding expo?

  “Sure, why not. I’ll put up some examples of my invitations.”

  WGN TV Chicago

  “And to end tonight’s news bulletin, some quirky footage from Whitetail, Wisconsin. The small northwoods town set up a wedding display outside their courthouse today as their acting mayor, Annika Jacobson, faced a charge of breaking and entering into the vacation home of Chicago’s paper and recycling tycoon, Sean Callahan. With the slogan ‘Whitetail—Weddings That WOW,’ they
hoped to entice Bridget Callahan to marry in their town. The Callahan-Neiquest wedding is tipped to be one of the biggest events on next year’s summer social calendar and although the venue is yet to be announced, we think that Chicago’s InterContinental can relax.”

  Chapter Four

  Finn stepped out of the helicopter, not quite believing he was back at Kylemore again five days after he’d left. This doubled the amount of times he’d visited during the summer in years. Hank was supposed to have been the one on the helicopter, heading back to restart his vacation with Bridey and at the same time, bringing documents for Sean to sign.

  But machine number four was still plaguing their life and Hank had to bail on his vacation. Jazz Juice was understandably stressing about their supply of juice boxes and Finn had rescheduled production across all accounts to spread the impact. If that hadn’t been enough to contend with, his P.A. had broken her pelvis and was on indefinite sick leave, his lawyer was tied up with his son’s Bar Mitzvah, and that left no one else vetted by the company to be trusted with documents, so Finn was back at the lake. He could think of better ways to spend a Friday.

  He accepted his bag and laptop from the pilot and walked the short distance into the house. The loud whirr of a vacuum cleaner met him and he smiled. Esther was here, meaning lunch would be delicious and plentiful. He set down his bags and followed the noise.

  “Esther.”

  A large woman with meaty arms looked up in surprise and the next moment he was enveloped in a huge hug, and circled by the scent of cinnamon and spices with a hint of bleach. “Finn, you’re back?”

  He breathed in the scent that reminded him of the happier moments of his childhood. “Just for a day.”

  Esther tsked. “You look exhausted. Stay longer, sleep late and let me cook you all your favorite foods.”

  The idea of comfort food curled warmth through his belly and had him considering the idea for an instant. Then common sense kicked in and he gave her a wide and beguiling Callahan smile. “I’m too busy to stay, Essie, but how about you bake me some brownies and I’ll take them back to Mexico.”

  Esther gave him a piercing look. “Too busy to stay now but not in November?”

  He wasn’t biting. He’d inherited his family but that didn’t mean he had to vacation with them. “So where is he?”

  “Your father’s outside with everyone.”

  He nodded his thanks as she returned to the vacuuming and he headed toward the terrace doors. As he approached he could hear a mix of voices and laughter drifting on the summer breeze. Taking a deep breath, he slid on his sunglasses, slid open the screen door and stepped outside.

  Through the trees, he could make out a group of people on the huge expanse of lawn. Logan was closest and came running up the moment he saw him.

  “Finn, do you want to play T-ball?”

  “Sorry, but I’m not on vacation, Logan.”

  “Come on,” Logan wheedled. “We’re all playing.”

  He didn’t know who “all” was but he imagined it was the immediate neighbors and maybe Bridey. “That’s good, so you’ve got a team and you don’t really need me, do you?”

  The kid sighed and the look in his dark eyes was too familiar by far, but he didn’t say anything else before running back through the trees.

  Finn stomped on a sliver of guilt and immediately justified his actions. He wasn’t on vacation and that fact was being reinforced by the hot sun beating down on his chinos making him hot. He wished he’d taken the time to change into shorts and a polo shirt and he would, just as soon as he’d talked to Sean. For now, he rolled up the sleeves of his business shirt and kept on walking.

  He saw Dana holding a baseball bat and swinging for a ball tossed by someone he didn’t recognize. As she hit it high, people starting running and then he heard a deep and victorious laugh. He stopped dead and felt his jaw drop as he watched his father slide into home base. His father who’d never played a game in his life other than deal-closing golf, was playing vacation T-ball.

  A voice called out, “I’ve got it.”

  No way. Not again. Abject incredulity poured over him and he swung around sharply at the familiar melodic voice. He lifted his sunglasses and squinted hoping that would change the image. It didn’t. Annika Jacobson, her blond hair streaming out behind her, stood with her head tilted back, her creamy neck extended and her arms outstretched, all ready for the perfect catch.

  He watched mesmerized as the white ball reached its zenith before arcing down toward earth and her open hands. She leaped for it, missed and fell over.

  A chorus of, “Are you okay?” went up as everyone started running toward her. With her lush, cherry-red mouth laughing, she rolled over and stood up, her legs stained with green. “I’m fine. Sorry, Captain Logan, I told you I wasn’t very good.”

  Finn stared, rooted to the spot, and desperately tried to locate his vanished equilibrium. Nothing in this picture matched up with anything close to normal. She did not belong here. His father did not play ball and it was this disparity that had him stunned and staring. It had absolutely nothing to do with the way Annika’s slim and shapely legs seemed to go on forever before seductively disappearing under the cuff of very short, denim cutoffs. She bent down to retrieve the ball and his pants tightened.

  “Finn!” Bridey shrieked, her voice making everyone turn toward him. “You came back.”

  Annika’s chin rose and those dazzlingly clear eyes met his gaze for a fraction of a second, offering up some sort of challenge, and then Bridey got closer, blocking his view.

  His sister greeted him with arms stretched out wide, but her vision reached far over his shoulder and way beyond him. “You changed your mind and you’re staying. Thank you.” She hugged him hard and then pulled back. “Where’s Hank?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not staying and Hank’s tied up at the plant.”

  Her hand immediately slid into her pocket and she pulled out her phone, checking for messages. With an abrupt action, she shoved the sleek, black device back into her pocket.

  His effervescent sister looked as crestfallen as a little girl whose ice cream had just fallen out of the cone and landed in the dirt. The latent big brother in him surfaced. “He’s probably left a message for you with Esther. You know that unless it’s life or death, she doesn’t run after us if we’re not in the house.”

  Her mouth quirked up on one side as if she only half believed him. She called out a general announcement of, “I’m going back to the house” before giving a backward wave and striking off through the trees.

  Most of the other guests drifted toward the drinks table and Dana called out, “Finn, sit down. Lunch is at one.”

  He gave a tight smile and nodded. Had everyone forgotten that he wasn’t on vacation? He didn’t have the time or inclination for a long lunch and he wished he could think of an excuse to get out of it but given he’d just arrived, he had nothing. When he finally turned back to see what Annika was up to, he saw her walking toward the lake with Logan, her head bent low toward his and her white-gold hair shimmering against his black curls. She looked completely at ease with the little boy in a way he’d never known. It shouldn’t have bothered him but it added to the utter confusion that swam inside him at seeing his father playing ball. He felt like he was the out
sider here and that was plain wrong. She was the person who didn’t belong.

  He immediately closed the gap between him and his father. “Dad, what the hell is she doing here?”

  Sean had mostly been an absent father from the time Finn was twelve, although there’d been occasions when he’d come down on him as the heavy-handed father complete with the lash of his Irish temper. As a teenager Finn had taught himself to ride out the lectures, telling himself there was no point in reacting because Sean would vanish again soon enough. By the time Finn joined the company at twenty-five, he only viewed his father as a business associate and Sean had done the same. It worked for both of them.

  But right now, Sean’s mouth was thinned in disapproval and he was looking more like a father than he had in years. “This is my home, Finnegan, and Annika’s my guest. Inviting her over for lunch after what happened was the least I could do.” He folded his arms tightly across his faded, blue Chicago Cubs T-shirt. “I had an interesting morning in court on Monday, and as a result I’ve spoken to my secretary about not filtering my mail. Now it’s your turn to explain. It seems you chose to leave out a few pertinent facts about the night she came into the house.”

  No way was he feeling any guilt over that. “She outright lied.”

  Silver hair glinted in the sunshine and Sean sighed. “She bent the truth. Some of us do it from time to time.”

  A sliver of something close to anger tried to pierce his now well-constructed disconnection from Sean as a father—a detachment which had started the day Sean had left his mother for Dana’s predecessor. “You’d know that better than me.”

  Sean stiffened and his eyes flashed but when he spoke it was back to business, just as Finn preferred. “You need to sit down with her and discuss the Whitetail warehouses.”