Love on Beach Avenue

by Probst, Jennifer

  A few years ago, she’d finally bought it. Alone. And it was the proudest damn moment of her life.

  “It was a perfect choice. Do your sisters still live close?”

  “Yes. Bella and Taylor actually rent a two-family a few blocks down.”

  “That’s so great. Okay, let me know what we do next. I was never one of those girls to fuss about a future wedding day, but now I’m nervous. One of my colleagues brought in a stack of magazines, and I had to breathe into a paper bag afterward.”

  Avery laughed. “My job is to keep you sane and breakdown-free. Even relaxed and happy, by my standards. But let’s not talk shop today. We’ll have our first official meeting tomorrow at my office at one p.m. for that. Right now, I just want you to relax, eat cheese, and give me all of the good gossip. I heard Texans were good at that.”

  Ally sighed with relief. “Sounds awesome. But we’re going to need more wine.”

  Avery laughed, refilled their glasses, and settled into the cushy pillows. The next few hours flew by, and she felt as if a piece of her had snapped back into place being with her best friend again.

  Ally stood up. “Now that I’ve eaten all your cheese and drunk all the wine, I better get going. I know you have appointments.”

  “I wish we could hang out all afternoon, but at least I know we’ll be able to see each other regularly. We’re going to have the best summer!”

  They hugged and Avery escorted her to the door. It had been a long time since she’d planned a wedding for someone she loved. Sure, they had the occasional local who booked her, but the majority of her clientele was unknown, with dreams of a destination beach wedding planned to perfection being the true goal. She was close to her brides when they worked together, and was proud of her Love Wall, where she posted all her cards, notes, and pictures from grateful brides. But with Ally, she had a personal desire to make it beautiful, even though she had a squeezed schedule and little free time to savor.

  Seeing Ally again reminded her it’d be worth it.

  With a deep breath, Avery cleaned up and headed to the office.

  The next day, she was running late. She’d crammed in back-to-back appointments, and all her weddings were beginning to blur together. The cake tasting ran into the invitation consultation, and after dealing with a bride who hated making decisions without texting every single one of her bridesmaids for their input, Avery’s vision couldn’t handle another calligraphy option. God, she’d give anything for a pastry right now.

  Even though the wedding craze of May had passed, June was almost as bad. Casting a longing glance at the café, she hurried past, skipping a coffee refill in exchange for precious minutes. Her red silk blouse and cream skirt stuck to her damp skin, and her hair rebelled in the humidity. She could practically feel strands poking out of the dozen hair clips she’d tried to use to tame it. Sometimes she hated Bella for inheriting her smooth golden locks. Maybe she should cut it short like Taylor. Except she’d probably look like a demonic Orphan Annie.

  Glancing at her watch, she quickened her pace. Ally wouldn’t mind if she was a bit late, but she hated beginning a new partnership on weak ground. Respecting a client’s time was essential in running a successful business, even if this client was her best friend on a summer beach vacation.

  Her heel caught in one of the deadly uneven pavements that defined Cape May sidewalks, and she did a two-step shuffle, averting disaster. She finally reached the bright yellow-and-pink scrolled sign that announced SUNSHINE BRIDAL and headed toward the door.

  “There she is!”

  The shout took her off guard, and she teetered again on her shoes. Damn pumps. She preferred flats or sandals, but these red-soled designers went perfectly with her outfit. With four-inch heels, they put her at a respectable height, but her clumsiness threatened to ruin her fashion statement.

  Two women faced her—one on the verge of tears, the other glaring with anger. She recognized the curvy brunette immediately, but the other woman was a stranger. She shifted her focus to her bride. “Delilah, what’s wrong?”

  The petite woman pointed a trembling finger to her right. “She says the Majesty Hotel booking never went through. She said I can’t get married June eleventh because she already reserved that date and time for her reception.”

  Avery shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, that’s not possible. I’ve already received the confirmation, and the deposit went through. I’m sorry, Ms. . . .”

  “Papadalle. And you’re wrong.” She stabbed her finger right back at Delilah. “I called first to reserve that date, and the sales rep put it in the book. But yesterday, the guy I spoke to wasn’t there, and I was told there was no record of my wedding.”

  Sympathy shot through Avery. “That’s terrible. Are you sure you didn’t give him the wrong date?”

  The woman curled back her lips and spit venom. “I’m not stupid! I’m doing this on my own on a tight budget, and I can prove I booked it. I have my credit-card receipt.” She reached in her purse and pulled out a crumpled piece of white paper, shaking it in the air. “I know what’s going on here. You fancy wedding planners pushed him to forget my date because you paid more. But I’m not going away, so the joke’s on you. I’ll sue you all. I’ll stand outside your wedding and protest. I’ll get on the news.”

  Delilah gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

  “Hell yes, I would!”

  “Ladies, please, let’s calm down and try to figure this out.” Avery faced Ms. Papadalle and tried to radiate authority and reassurance. “Did you go to the Majesty with your receipt to discuss the problem?”

  “Of course I did! A guy named Steve told me the planners at Sunshine Bridal were the only ones who could fix the mix-up.”

  Avery tapped her foot and tried to ignore her pounding head. Dammit. She knew Steve was a part-time student working for extra cash. God help them all if he’d taken the booking without informing the owner. Seemed like he couldn’t handle confrontation and wanted to keep his job, so he’d sent an upset bride straight to her doorstep. Sure, blame the wedding planner. Wasn’t that standard? The kid had no thought to the disasters that could occur. “Wait. Delilah, how did you even hear about this?”

  “She called me and said to meet her here at one p.m.,” Delilah said.

  She swiveled her gaze back to Ms. Papadalle, still confused. “But how did you get Delilah’s number? The booking is under my business name, not Delilah’s.”

  “I told Steve I wanted her information and refused to leave until he gave it to me!” the woman yelled.

  Oh yeah, Steve was definitely getting fired over this breach of protocol. Her head pounded harder.

  Delilah trembled. “I’m sorry, Avery. I was afraid not to show. She scared me.”

  Delilah was soft-spoken and shy. The poor thing was clearly terrified, and the whole scene was unfolding in front of Avery’s respectable business. She had to get them off the street before the town gossips realized a bride war was brewing.

  Avery cleared her throat. “Okay, let’s go inside. We’ll get a cool drink, I’ll make some phone calls, and we’ll straighten it all out.”

  Ms. Papadalle ignored her calm entreaty. Bracing her feet, she threw her shoulders back and announced her ultimatum. “There’s only one way to solve this. Change your date.”

  Delilah’s voice broke. “But I can’t. It would ruin everything.”

  “Then I’m bringing you all down. This is America. I deserve an equal shot even if I don’t hire a fancy-schmancy wedding planner.”

  Delilah’s lower lip shook, and her eyes filled with tears. “But my family already bought airline tickets. They’re nonrefundable.”

  “Too bad. I have proof I booked it first.” She shook the receipt wildly in the air like a baby bird trying to fly. “I’m taking the date. Deal with it.” Ms. Papadalle towered over Delilah, face masked in righteous fury.

  Before Avery could take a step forward to defuse the tension, comfort her bride, and take control of the situatio
n, Delilah launched herself at the woman. Ms. Papadalle stumbled under the surprise attack and fell back on her ass, landing in a tangled mess of limbs on the sidewalk. Delilah stared in shock, blinking as if she’d come out of a fugue state. She opened her mouth, maybe to apologize, but it was too late.

  “I’ll kill you!” Ms. Papadalle sprang up from the ground and came at Delilah with a roar, but instead of running away, Avery’s once-shy, reserved bride let out a matching warrior cry, and they fell into a tangle of fists, hair-pulling, and nail-scratching.

  Holy shit.

  She’d witnessed wicked arguments before, along with many drunken threats she’d always been able to resolve, but never two women in a real catfight. Knowing she had little time and no help, she went with her instincts and dove in.

  “Stop it!” she yelled, wishing she had a hose to spray them with water like she’d seen on television with warring dogs. “You’re both making a scene!” She tried inserting herself into the middle, but a flashing nail caught her on the cheek, and then someone hit her in the head and ripped out the clips holding her hair. Gritting her teeth, she used all her strength and managed to push them away from each other with one mighty shove.

  Both staggered back, eyes wide as if just realizing what they’d done on a public sidewalk. Avery moved to keep herself in between them, but her heel wobbled in the crack of the sidewalk.

  Ah, hell.

  Balance lost, she waved her arms in the air like a crazed chicken, then crashed to the ground. A litany of curse words blasted from her mouth, each one dirtier than the last, as she crawled indelicately to her scraped knees and looked up with a glower.

  She registered the matching chagrined expressions on the two women staring down at her, then let her gaze travel past them to the couple framed in the open doorway. Ally took in the scene with a dropped jaw and eyes filled with shock. A man flanked her friend’s side, tall and lean and slightly familiar. His gaze assessed the situation with a flare of mockery and judgment that immediately pissed Avery off.

  He turned to Ally. His voice was deep and velvety smooth, but his words cut deep without apology. “Please don’t tell me this is your wedding planner.”

  And then she remembered who he was. Carter Ross. Her best friend’s older brother. Dread punched her stomach.

  A groan of disgust rose to her lips as she straightened up and regarded the man she’d disliked from the moment they’d met. Carter was rude, arrogant, and always trying to boss them both around. He’d consistently judged her and found her lacking, believing she wasn’t good enough to be friends with Ally. His cool gaze hadn’t changed, even behind those new nerdy black glasses, and it still made her vaguely uncomfortable.

  Lips slightly pursed, as if he’d tasted something bad, he shook his head and marched over. “Okay, ladies, fight’s over. Let’s see if we can solve the problem.” Guiding them both firmly under the elbow, he began to direct them inside.

  Responding to the magic of his commanding voice, Delilah and Ms. Papadalle quietly climbed the stairs and went through the door. With a furious glare, Avery followed.

  Ally took her hand, fussing and asking a million questions, but it was Carter’s gaze that assessed, judged, and gave his final verdict. And once again, she knew he’d found her lacking.

  She tried to regain control of the situation, indicating to the women to follow her into the back private room to talk, but he interrupted in his usual domineering manner.

  “I don’t know the circumstances of what caused such a public scenario, but I do know one thing.” He paused, his gaze weighing heavily on them. “Your husbands-to-be would be mortified by your behavior. Nothing is worth losing your dignity and kindness. I hope you’ll both apologize to the other and work it out.”

  Avery almost closed her eyes in horror. How dare he talk to them like wayward children? She opened her mouth to apologize, but the two future brides ducked their heads in shame and began to babble.

  “You’re right, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I lost my temper over something like this—”

  “This wedding has made me insane. I’m doing things I’ve never done before—”

  “Acting ridiculous—”

  “So childish, please forgive me—”

  They began madly exchanging apologies, gripping each other’s hands, and Carter nodded in approval.

  WTF? Why were they apologizing to him? She was the one who fell on her ass and tried to help them! And did he always have to be so condescending?

  Desperate to get them away from him, Avery interrupted in a loud, chirpy voice. “If you can both head to the room on the right and take a seat, I promise it will all work out. I’ll take care of everything.”

  Still murmuring apologies, the women disappeared into the back private room.

  She dragged in a breath and tried to register calm. Then directed her words to her friend. “I’m so sorry, Ally. If you wait in the conference room, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Of course! Not a problem, take your time.”

  She began to turn, relieved her friend was so easygoing, until Carter’s voice stopped her cold.

  “Still getting yourself into catfights?” he asked, brow arched in mockery.

  His remark made her want to howl in rage and frustration. The memory of that night hit full force. Drunk in a college bar, a group of catty girls had begun taunting Ally, and she hadn’t been able to curb her impulse to defend her best friend. Avery had jumped at them, fists flying. Carter had been the one to pick them up and talk the group of girls out of pressing any charges. God, she still remembered sitting in the back seat while he lectured her on reckless behavior, growing up, and acting responsibly.

  Her ears burned as humiliation leaked through her. Again. “I’ve got this handled,” she shot back, glaring up at him even with her four-inch heels.

  “Sure.” His voice and look registered skepticism. “But hurry it up. You’re already late for our appointment, and I can’t afford to have a delay in my itinerary.”

  Oh yeah.

  She despised Carter Ross.

  Chapter Four

  Carter studied the woman across the gleaming conference table. She’d restored her hair back into a neat little bun, reapplied lipstick, and exuded a calm, confident air that contradicted the fierce wildcat persona he’d seen outside minutes ago.

  At first glance, Avery hadn’t changed at all. Her physical attributes were the same—from her curly honey-blonde hair and too-wide hazel eyes to her small build. Her curves had turned killer, especially emphasized in the tight pencil skirt and fire engine–red top, or maybe it was simply that he’d never noticed before because she’d been so young back then. Yes, she’d grown up well.

  Not that it mattered.

  A brawl on the porch of her business establishment was career suicide in his mind. He’d immediately decided to talk Ally out of using Avery’s services, no matter how many five-star reviews her business boasted.

  But now, it was as if he were staring at a different woman. Fat folders surrounded Avery, all color coded and marked with various headers. A detailed calendar of events that needed to be completed was brought up on her laptop, counting down to D-Day, a red heart marking the date of the wedding. The conference room was beautifully decorated, and they’d been served sparkling water with lemon along with petits fours on delicate china while they waited. She’d apologized for the public display, excused herself for fifteen more minutes, and returned in professional mode. She had an air of confidence that hadn’t been there when she’d attended Georgetown, as if she’d finally settled into herself. The way she spoke with authority and walked with her shoulders back, posture strong. He assumed the two women had either left or killed each other, but when Avery entered the conference room, she acted like nothing had ever happened.

  Still, he didn’t trust anyone who couldn’t handle her clients. He’d just seen proof that if things went wonky during his sister’s wedding, Avery wouldn’t be up to the task.r />
  He’d tried to tell Ally this, but she was adamant it wouldn’t be an issue for them and was intent on using Avery. She also warned him about giving Avery a hard time. His sister wasn’t about to budge, determined to give her friend the business. Fine. Carter would have to make sure things were taken care of. Just like he always did.

  “The main goal of today is to figure out your personal style and how you want it reflected in your wedding. Are you still obsessed with purple and silver?”

  Ally laughed. “Guilty as charged. But is that overdone or tacky?”

  Avery cocked her head. “It’s a classic combination that’s cool and sophisticated. There’s one important thing you need to remember. I don’t care if you come to me with zebra patterns—if it’s what you want, I will make sure it looks beautiful. That’s my job. Your job is to tell me everything you love and would like to incorporate for your day. Okay?”

  Ally beamed. “Yes. Isn’t this exciting, Carter?”

  He caught Avery’s gaze. Oh, she was good at this. Dislike shone in her eyes, but it was banked just enough that someone not looking for it wouldn’t notice. But he did. “Extremely. I can’t wait to see what’s next,” he drawled.

  Avery’s chin tilted up. She turned in her chair, directing her attention toward Ally, refusing to include him in the discussion. The snub teased a smirk out of him. At least she was amusing.

  “Tell me a little about how you see your day unfolding—from ceremony to reception to everything in between?”

  His sister gave a sigh. “I really want to say our vows on the beach. I know weather can throw us a curveball, but I’d like to try. I’m imagining the ocean in the background with a beautiful white trellis. Simple, but elegant. Same thing with the reception. I’d love something that makes everyone feel like they’re in a garden, with tons of flowers and stone walkways, and a fabulous dinner. The food is really important. I can’t stand regular wedding fare with the traditional three options. I want something outside the box.”