Wildest Dreams

by Melody Grace

She was just checking out when she caught sight of a familiar face walking in. “Jenny,” she called, and the other woman turned. She was with a pre-teen girl, who was gangly in a soccer uniform and braids. This must be Jenny’s niece she’d mentioned. Paige could see the resemblance, in the smattering of freckles, and the button nose.

  “Oh, hey, Paige!” Jenny came over. “This is Hannah, by the way.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  Jenny turned to the girl. “You know the drill, we need all the essentials. Don’t let me down!”

  The girl nodded and charged into the aisles looking determined.

  “That looks like quite a mission,” Paige remarked, smiling.

  “You try hosting a sleepover for six twelve-year-old girls,” Jenny sighed. “If they run out of ice cream, it’s an international disaster.”

  “She must take after you.”

  Jenny laughed. “I hope so. Say, you don’t want to join the party, do you?” she asked. “We’re watching all the Pitch Perfect movies, and I’ve got a bottle of wine for when they go play ‘light as a feather, stiff as a board.’ Or plot world domination, whatever it is the kids do these days.”

  “It sounds fun, but I can’t tonight,” Paige said regretfully.

  “Hot date, huh?” Jenny grinned. “Now I remember, Declan said he was clocking off early tonight.”

  He did? Paige felt a shiver of anticipation.

  “Have fun,” Jenny said. “Are you guys coming to JamFest this weekend?”

  Paige laughed, remembering the story about the rivalries. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Great, I’ll see you there.” Jenny glanced back towards Hannah. “Plain chips? What are we, amateurs? Get the extra-big-scoop style!”

  * * *

  Back at her place, Paige opened the windows wide and set out the flowers in a pretty vase. She felt restless, full of anticipation to see Declan again, but the hours ticked past, and he still hadn’t messaged back. When it passed eight p.m., she tried calling and got only his voicemail at the other end of the line.

  She forced herself to hang up. Easy there. Paige reread his message from this morning, registering the vagueness for the first time. Maybe.

  Maybe!

  Did he have other, better plans in mind?

  She took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to be one of those women, waiting by the phone all night. Impulsively, she snatched up her car keys and called Jenny. “Is the offer still open for pizza and a movie?”

  “Please, save me!” Jenny sounded frazzled. “They’re talking about some boyband. I’ve never felt so old.”

  Paige smiled. “I’ll be right over.”

  She followed Jenny’s directions just out of town, turning up a long, impressive driveway lined with trees and rhododendron hedges. At the top, she found a house that was more of a mansion, crumbling and majestic, set on the hilltop with incredible views of the water from every direction.

  “Wow,” Paige said when Jenny answered the imposing front door. “This place is amazing!”

  “Isn’t it?” Jenny agreed, barefoot in jeans, with her dark hair pulled back in a casual ponytail. “I’m just the caretaker, the owner is some old guy, he lives in Arizona most of the year. Lucky for us, we have the run of the place.”

  Paige followed her inside to a formal lobby that had a grand sweeping staircase curving gently to the second floor. She could hear teen girl laughter from down a hall, but Jenny steered her in the other direction, to an old-fashioned kitchen with tall ceilings and a homey farm table in the middle.

  “Here.” Jenny thrust a wine glass in her hand and poured a healthy serving of red. “You’re going to need it.”

  Paige laughed. “You’re a saint for babysitting,” she said.

  Jenny gave a wry smile. “It’s not just tonight. My sister passed away five years ago, so Hannah is mine full-time.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Paige said quickly. “I didn’t know.”

  Jenny shrugged. “It’s OK. Even back when she was around, she wasn’t the most dependable mom. Hannah’s a good kid.”

  Paige didn’t ask after the girl’s father—she didn’t want to pry, and besides, they were interrupted by a stampede of tweens. “Is the pizza here yet?” Hannah demanded eagerly.

  “Manners,” Jenny laughed.

  “Is the pizza here yet, please?”

  “It’s on its way,” Jenny reassured her. “Why don’t you start the movie?”

  As Hannah grabbed a soda and snacks, the other girls noticed Paige. “I love your scarf,” one of them said shyly.

  “Thanks.” Paige smiled. “I made it myself.”

  “Paige is a fashion designer,” Jenny explained, and they all lit up.

  “Oh my God!”

  “Have you been to Paris?”

  “Do you know Tim Gunn?”

  She laughed, barraged with enthusiastic questions. “No, I haven’t been to Paris,” she said. “But I did go to fashion school in New York. One of my old classmates was on Project Runway.”

  They all gasped.

  “OK, let’s take this party to the couches!” Jenny announced, clapping her hands together. “Everyone, grab something.”

  Paige’s phone buzzed. She paused, not wanting to be rude, but the urge to check it was too strong. “I’ll be right in,” she promised. The others exited, and she grabbed it from her bag.

  Where are the spare fuses?

  It was only Eliza.

  Paige exhaled and quickly typed back. Closet under the stairs.

  So, Declan was busy. So was she.

  “Who wants popcorn?” she called, and she headed out to the party.

  17

  “You’re killing me with all this cuteness!” Eliza exclaimed, flopping down on the couch in Paige’s studio.

  Paige laughed at her sister. She was just finishing up some stitching before they went for lunch, after another busy morning in the store.

  “I’m serious. Your designs were always lovely, but this new stuff . . .” Eliza cast an appreciative eye over a lingerie set Paige had been up late finishing. “They’re so . . . sexy. But in a classy, elegant way,” she added quickly.

  “Thanks.” Paige smiled. “It’s been fun, branching out a little. I thought I’d have tons of time for the sewing, but I’ve been run off my feet in the store, too. I might need to hire an assistant to keep things running out front.”

  “While you live a life of leisure back here?”

  Paige snorted. “You mean sew my fingers bloody?” She held up her hands, showing off the redness from all her tiny stitchwork.

  “Ouch.” Eliza winced.

  There was a tap on the open French door, and then Cal poked his head in from the courtyard. “Hey, Paige,” he said with a smile. “How’s business?”

  “Booming,” she said proudly, and she finally set aside the bra she’d been working on.

  “You need to start talking her up to all your rich society friends,” Eliza said, teasing. She got up and greeted him with a kiss. “They should be first in line for some bespoke, one-of-a-kind designs to brag about.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Paige protested. She didn’t want everyone feeling obligated to promote her. But Cal looked pleased.

  “That’s a great idea,” he said. “Tish is planning a bachelorette for one of her sorority friends. Maybe they could come here, have a fitting.”

  “Let me check my schedule!” Paige blurted. She’d started out worried she wouldn’t have enough business, and now she was already turning people away! “But, anything for a Prescott,” she added.

  Cal chuckled. “Ready for lunch?”

  “Definitely.” Paige grabbed her purse and locked up behind them. “Where do you guys want to eat?”

  “Didn’t Eliza mention? We’re going to Sage,” Cal replied. “I have a tradition, Declan has to cook me everything new he’s putting on the menu. Perk of being an investor,” said with a wink.

  “Oh.” Paige swallowed. She still hadn’t ha
d more than a couple of vague texts from Declan, and it had been days now since she’d seen him last. She’d been trying not to think about it, and failing. Bad. “No, Eliza didn’t say.”

  Her sister dropped back as they approached Cal’s car. “I’m sorry about what I said,” Eliza apologized. “I thought if we all hung out together, I could get to know Declan better. The way you do. Well,” she giggled, “not quite that well, but you know what I mean.”

  Paige climbed in the backseat, feeling apprehensive. Eliza thought she was doing a nice thing, looking for the best in Declan, and Paige didn’t have the heart to tell her this may not be the best time for an impromptu double-date—not when even Paige herself didn’t know where she stood.

  But Paige tried to be positive. Maybe this was a good thing. Food, some drinks, friends . . . Declan had warned her he was busy, and this way, they’d get to mix business and pleasure.

  “Ooh, a for-sale sign!” Eliza suddenly exclaimed, looking out of the window. “Cal, did you see? There was a yard and an ocean view.”

  “Got it,” he said. “I’ll call June today.”

  “You guys are house-hunting?” Paige asked.

  “Slowly.” Cal grinned.

  “Mom will be back from Europe soon,” Eliza explained. “And I don’t think living under the same roof will be good for any of us.”

  “Good point.” Paige smiled. “Did you hear from her? I haven’t had a thing aside from a couple of postcards.”

  “Me neither,” Eliza agreed. “It’s not like her at all.”

  “Maybe she’s turned over a new, non-interfering leaf?” Paige suggested. They paused, and then both burst out laughing.

  “That’ll never happen,” Eliza said, snorting. “I’m just appreciating the quiet while we still can.”

  Paige agreed. She could only imagine what her mom would say about her new life here. Linda was always supportive, but she was a worrier, too. And Paige throwing away her most fertile years on a rakish fling? Mom would definitely not approve.

  Cal turned off the highway and down the leafy road that led to Sage. The parking lot was almost empty when they pulled in. “He still refuses to do lunch service on the weekdays,” Cal sighed, getting out of the car. “Maybe once we expand, I’ll get him to change his mind.”

  “You’re going to open another restaurant?” Paige asked, surprised.

  “A string of them,” Cal said, gravel crunching underfoot. He opened the door for them, and Paige and Eliza stepped inside. “There’s a big-time investor sniffing around, he wants to take Declan global.”

  “That’s great!” Paige exclaimed. No wonder Declan had been so busy these past weeks. She looked around the empty restaurant and saw him over by the bar, talking to someone. His chef’s shirt was rumpled, and the sun was catching in his hair as he leaned in, laughing.

  “Chef,” Cal called, joking. “Can’t a guy get some service in here?”

  Declan turned, and for the first time, Paige saw that he was talking with a woman.

  A drop-dead gorgeous, young woman, who was gazing at Declan with a flirty smile on her glossy lips and her ample curves barely contained by a T-shirt with a deep V-neck.

  And her hand resting possessively on his forearm.

  * * *

  Declan cursed the timing. Cal hadn’t mentioned he was bringing Eliza and Paige for their lunch, and from the look on Paige’s face, she hadn’t expected to see him like this, either.

  “Oh, hey.” Declan casually put some distance between him and Caitlin. “I didn’t know you were bringing extras.”

  “I figured they could help taste-test,” Cal said. “Is that OK?”

  “Sure,” Declan said, shooting Paige a glance. She was wearing jeans and a pretty print blouse, summer casual, and beautiful as ever. He’d been trying his best to put her out of his mind, but he couldn’t deny the surge he felt just from her walking in the room.

  Damn, he’d missed her.

  “I always make plenty. I was just getting the new hostess up to speed.” He felt like he needed to explain. “Caitlin is stepping in tonight.”

  “It’s great to meet you!” Caitlin joined them, reaching to shake everyone’s hand in turn. “I’m so excited to get started! Declan’s an amazing chef, and everyone says it’s like one big happy family here!”

  “Welcome,” Cal said, giving Declan a quizzical look. “I hope our head chef hasn’t been giving you a hard time. He can be a perfectionist.”

  “Oh no!” Caitlin giggled. “Declan’s the best. It’s going to be so much fun working here, isn’t it, D?” She gave Declan a playful nudge.

  Declan cleared his throat. “Uh, sure. Why don’t I get started bringing the food out?”

  “I can help!” Caitlin insisted immediately.

  “No, that’s fine.” Declan was painfully aware of three sets of eyes on him. “We’re all finished up here. You can head out now.”

  “OK, I’ll see you tonight, chef.” Caitlin winked and then sashayed out.

  “She seems . . . enthusiastic,” Cal remarked dryly.

  Declan shrugged. “As long as she does the job fine.” He looked to Paige again, but she was still hanging back, her expression unreadable. “You sit down, and we can get started.”

  He escaped to the kitchen, feeling like he’d just been busted—even though he’d done nothing wrong. He didn’t like the judgment in Cal’s tone, or the way Eliza had looked at him, either. What was he supposed to do, refuse to hire someone just because she was easy on the eye? And, OK, a little flirty, but there was nothing wrong with Declan being friendly with his staff.

  Declan grabbed the first set of plates, some appetizers he’d been experimenting with, and headed back out into the dining room. Cal, Eliza, and Paige were all at a table by the windows, but Paige was almost out of her seat, having a quiet—but heated—conversation with her sister.

  “Anything wrong?” he asked.

  Paige’s head snapped up. “No,” she said quickly, but her cheeks belied a telltale flush of discomfort. “But I think I should get back to the store. I don’t really have time for lunch.”

  “Oh, OK.” Declan ignored his disappointment—and the way her hair framed her face, golden against the blue of her blouse. “If you need to get going . . .”

  “She doesn’t.” Eliza yanked Paige back into her seat. “Besides, if we have to eat all this ourselves, I’ll put on seventy billion pounds. Stay.”

  Paige glanced at him, uncertainty in her gaze. “OK,” she said slowly. “I mean, if you insist.”

  “I do,” Eliza declared. “So, what have you whipped up for us?” she demanded, turning back to Declan. “Oooh, is that bacon?”

  “Pork belly,” he corrected her. “My take on BLT sliders, with tomato chutney and housemade pickles.”

  “I love you,” Eliza exclaimed.

  “Gee, thanks,” Cal laughed beside her.

  “I love you more, don’t worry. But those sliders rank him pretty high, too. I can see the appeal.” Eliza winked at Paige, who gave a faint smile. “Sit down!” Eliza continued, reaching for the first tiny bite. “Relax, who wants wine? Cal, open a bottle.”

  Cal obliged, pouring glasses for everyone, and Declan took a seat, still feeling weirdly on edge.

  He didn’t have anything to feel guilty about, he reminded himself. He’d told Paige he’d be stuck at the restaurant that week, and he had been.

  Busy lying in bed at night, craving her touch.

  “How are things going at the store?” he asked Paige, who was seated just beside him.

  “Fine,” she said, holding his gaze, her expression still unreadable.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call you back,” Declan apologized.

  Paige gave a little shrug. “You’ve been busy. We both have.”

  She was acting casual, but Declan could see she wasn’t happy. Her usual sparkle had dimmed, and he felt another stab of guilt.

  Damnit. It was easier to keep his distance when she was miles away up the
coast, not looking at him with those beautiful blue eyes, close enough to touch.

  Paige took a bite of another appetizer and then licked her lip, catching a stray flake of pastry, and Declan’s pledge to stay cool crumbled.

  He took her hand under the table and squeezed. “I’m glad you came by,” he said, and she gave him her first genuine smile, squeezing back.

  “Cal was telling us about this investor, he said you might be expanding? That’s great news!”

  Declan nodded. “I don’t know the details just yet, but it could be a great opportunity. If he decides to keep me on the short-list.”

  “Who could resist you?” Paige teased, and Declan laughed, relaxing.

  “From your lips to Rich Crawford’s ears.”

  “I vote yes on all of this,” Eliza spoke up, gesturing to the table. “But then, you knew that already by the fact I just inhaled it in five seconds flat.”

  “Save room for the entrees,” Cal warned her. “Declan, didn’t you say something about a truffle-butter filet mignon?”

  Declan snorted. “You think I’m wasting that on you? No offense,” he added to Eliza and Paige.

  “None taken,” Paige said, smiling.

  She took another bite, and this time, Declan couldn’t resist reaching over to brush the flakes of pastry away. Their eyes locked, and the heat surged between them again.

  Suddenly, the bright lights of Vegas seemed very far away.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ll go get the next round.”

  Declan bolted for the kitchen. What the hell was he doing? One minute, he swore to cool things off, and the next, he was holding hands and finding any damn excuse to touch her again.

  It was his fault. He’d been so clear in the beginning, but he’d let himself get swayed by her laugh, and the way her cheeks flushed, and that irresistible swing of her hips.

  He knew better than this. He had to be better than this.

  He couldn’t let himself get attached. He hadn’t made any promises. In fact, he’d warned her—and Paige had agreed. They were in this for fun and excitement, not forever. He just had to keep reminding himself, focus on his career and the restaurant the way he should have done all along.