The Mills & Boon Christmas Wishes Collection. Maisey Yates
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turn it around like that…” I was bewildered by it. I had only met the groom twice and one of those times was on the aborted wedding day when I had to tell him she’d taken flight. Because of my advice… stupid, stupid, stupid.
Amory clucked her tongue. “It’s a simple case of you know too much. She’s got to make you the villain, so nothing rubs off on her. It wouldn’t take a genius to unearth her real story… but it’s juicier with you cast as the crazed, infatuated wedding planner.”
It was so damn ridiculous I could only sigh. Something like this would only happen in New York. “She’s so bloody cunning. I wish I’d shared my side of the story earlier. But it’s too late, no one would believe me now.”
“She’s called Flirty McFlirtison for a reason,” Amory said sadly.
I couldn’t help but giggle. Amory had disliked the reality-star bride Monica intensely and given her the nickname. It had been tricky to mask our true feelings around her because she’d been the client from hell, unless a man happened to walk by, and then she’d bat her lashes, leaving us shaking our heads.
I should have known never to trust her. The day after the wedding, Flirty started doing some major damage control and piling the blame on me. Once the news broke, no bride would go near me with a ten-foot pole.
“Jesus, Amory, I thought it would’ve all blown over now,” I said, slumping in my chair and gazing out at the beautiful explosion of color as the sun sank below the mountains.
“Here’s an interesting twist… it’s come out that he had her sign a watertight pre-nup the night before the wedding, so that’s why she did a runner. You were just the perfect scapegoat. She’s denying that, of course.”
I groaned. “Celebrities. I will never understand them.”
Still, even after all the A-list weddings I’d planned, I believed true love conquered all. Nothing would take away the pleasure I got out of organizing nuptials between two people who were truly smitten, even if they were on the never-heard-of-you list. Monica was driven by greed – she was just a reality-TV starlet whose show was cancelled after one season, but she still craved the limelight and would do anything she could to get tabloid attention. I’d been unlucky to get caught up in her schemes.
“Celebrities,” she agreed. “You don’t know how lucky you are, Clio. Granted, it wasn’t an ideal exit from the agency, but look where it’s taken you! I’m wildly envious. In time you’ll see it was the best decision you’ve ever made, and you’ll think of us scrabbling after every high-profile party with pity.”
This was Amory’s way, to line every cloud in silver. “I hope you’re right. Otherwise I’ve bought a lodge on a whim because of what happened. In Evergreen. A town with a population of five hundred and three people!”
“That’s the spirit!” she shouted, and I could just see her swinging in her office chair, tapping her pen, as if I was sitting across from her. “Now turn off Bonnie Tyler, please – I can almost hear your sobs from here. Leave Bonnie for the broken-hearted. And get back to work. You’re the boss now, darling, so square those shoulders and own it.”
She knew me so well, even what my choice of music meant.
Once I hung up, I turned the volume up and listened to Bonnie’s gravelly voice, not sobbing… not quite.
After all, what did I have to cry about? My reputation in New York was ruined. I’d invested every last dollar into a rundown lodge in a small town. There was nothing to worry about!
When I did something, like mess up my life, I did it right. And that included listening to music and crying like it was an Olympic sport. Who cared if everyone was saying I loved some random celebrity and had ruined his marriage? It would be yesterday’s news eventually, right? And being blacklisted by every New York event-planning agency? Pffft. Big deal. I’d make my own success. In a town with five-oh-three people. Easy.
Oh, God, what had I done?
“Is that Kai?” Micah asked, as we watched the new arrival jump down as deftly as a dancer from the cab of his truck. Even in the shadows, Kai stood out – with his wavy, sun-bleached hair and surfer’s body. I hadn’t expected… that. Builders were weathered, ruddy men who wore expressions of weariness from overwork, didn’t they? Kai looked more like a pro surfer than someone who did manual labor. Golly, if Amory was here she’d be elbowing me forward by now.
“Yes, Kai, the project manager,” I stage-whispered. “He had to finish up his last contract but he’s here for good now… well, at least until the lodge is done.” I adopted a disinterested expression and hoped Micah hadn’t caught my moment of surprise when I clapped eyes on Kai.
Micah smiled, and waggled his brows, insinuating something untoward.
“And what does that eyebrow jiggle mean?” I asked, crossing my arms and staring him down. Even after all these years I could still interpret Micah’s body language, though it wasn’t hard when he was being so obvious about it.
“It means you hired some surfer god and…”
I poked him in the ribs to be quiet and hissed, “Oh, jeez, Micah, I didn’t know he was…” What was he? “…He was… a surfer,” I finished lamely, watching Kai, who was rummaging in his truck for something.
He did resemble the perfect leading man in a romantic comedy, a polar opposite to the heroine… wait, what was I even thinking? Did I picture myself as the leading lady? Ridiculous! My heart was a no-go zone for the foreseeable future. My one true love at this point had to be Cedarwood Lodge.
“We’ve only spoken on the phone. And, for the record, I wouldn’t date anyone who worked here out of principle.” There, that sounded believable.
Micah went to retort but was called over by one of the painters. “Saved by the bell,” he joked before jogging off.
“Morning,” I said to Kai, hoping I wasn’t blushing after Micah practically accused me of hiring someone for their looks! It was absurd. But those eyes… mesmerizing.
“Hey,” he responded with a bright smile. His blond hair was mussed, windblown.
I shaded my face as the fall sun climbed higher and warmth seeped into my bones. Kai’s arrival meant I could knuckle down and focus on building marketing campaigns and our social media pages, spreading the word about the lodge while he instructed the team.
“You look familiar,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “I know we’ve had a hundred conversations on the phone, but…” He surveyed me, and I blushed under his scrutiny. Damn it to hell and back. Had he read about me in the paper or on one of those dodgy online gossip sites?
I gritted my teeth so tight I almost gave myself lockjaw. Managing to prise my mouth open a notch I said, as casually as I could, “Where did you say your last job was?”
Please, do not say New York or any of its boroughs!
He cocked his head, scrutinizing me as if we were long-lost cousins or something. “Georgia.”
I almost collapsed in relief. “Georgia. I hear it’s pretty this time of year.”
“It’s pretty,” he agreed. “But not as pretty as here.” He stretched and his shirt rode up, exposing toned, tanned skin. I tried so hard not to eye the ripple of his muscles, or imagine how they’d feel under my hand. I wasn’t used to seeing men sans suits, and it gave me a jolt. Surely, as a boss, I shouldn’t even be thinking in such a way? But I was merely admiring the newcomer for his sporting prowess. Over the phone I’d got to know him – he was one of those keen athletic types. Surfing and hiking and all the exercise he did sculpted him, and we all knew a healthy body led to a healthy mind. I made a promise to myself to run some