Marry Me At Christmas. Сьюзен Мэллери
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imagine being next to him, let alone working with him.
I can’t. There. She’d said it. Or at least thought it. Which was practically the same thing. She couldn’t.
“From what I can tell, Mr. Blaze is a very nice man,” the mayor was saying. “He wants to fit in. Be a part of the community. As you know, we take the well-being of our citizens very seriously. Mr. Blaze needs a refuge from the trappings of his career and we can provide that. The quiet, everyday kind of life he craves.”
“The wedding is going to be close friends and family,” Dellina added. “It’s small and intimate. I swear, if I had an extra second, I’d take it on.”
“You’re already doing too much,” Madeline said, pleased she could speak. “I know you. You’re running in forty-five directions.”
If it were anyone else, she thought frantically. But it wasn’t and saying no had never been an option.
She drew in a breath and told herself she was strong. She was mature. At the very least, she could keep from squealing in his presence.
“I’m happy to help,” she said.
“Excellent.” Mayor Marsha nodded. “You’re meeting with him in an hour.”
Of course she was, Madeline thought, not even surprised. Because that was how the mayor got things done. A well-planned ambush followed by a lack of time to come to one’s senses.
An hour. Not nearly enough time to lose five pounds, have a makeover and become glamorous and sophisticated. Why, oh, why hadn’t she learned French? Or aikido? Anything that would make her interesting for Jonny Blaze? She briefly wondered if aikido was the martial arts training or the dog breed, then sighed. Too late to worry about that now. As it was, she was going to be stuck being herself.
“I’m going to tell him I don’t have any experience with planning a wedding,” she said. “I need to be honest about that.”
The mayor smiled. “I would expect no less, my dear.”
* * *
Jonny Blaze had traveled all over the world. He was used to the insular world of a movie set and the contrast of whatever town they were in during filming. He’d lived in tents, high-rises and, for six gut-churning weeks, on a fishing boat. But none of that had prepared him for the quirky, busy, oddly happy place that was Fool’s Gold.
Everyone here was...nice. They said hello to each other, knew each other’s kids’ names and, as far as he could tell, celebrated every known holiday and a few he’d never heard of. He’d been looking for a place to hide and instead he’d found himself in an unusual town that he couldn’t seem to ignore, but also couldn’t bring himself to embrace. It was an unexpected conundrum.
He stepped into Brew-haha for his two o’clock meeting. The barista greeted him by name and asked if he wanted his usual. Had he been anywhere else, he would have known she’d remembered his usual because of his movie-star status. Except in Fool’s Gold, the barista treated everyone exactly the same. An experience so refreshing that coming to the local coffee shop became one of his favorite things to do when he was in town.
He paid for his order, then went to wait. Because this wasn’t LA where a starstruck employee raced to get him his coffee. He had a turn, just like everyone else.
Jonny had grown up normal, so he’d been unprepared for how starring in action movies would change everything about his life. Now, over a decade later, he was used to slipping into restaurants through a back door and knowing paparazzi were going to be lurking around every corner. He’d tried living in a secure condo, then had bought the obligatory walled estate, high in the Hollywood Hills. When that didn’t keep out the unwelcome, he’d gone looking for something better.
He’d found it about twenty-five miles outside of Fool’s Gold, California, on a cattle ranch with a rambling old house and a barn that he’d converted to a shop and workout room. He was close enough to town that he could get his normal fix at Brew-haha, but far enough away that he could revel in the quiet.
He’d sold the cattle to another rancher and had leased the grazing rights to the same guy. Now, as Jonny took his coffee, he grinned. Yup, he had grazing rights. What could be more middle America than that?
He turned his attention to the half-dozen tables at the small coffee shop. He was supposed to be meeting a Madeline Krug. The mayor had recommended her to help him plan his sister’s wedding.
He didn’t see anyone fitting her description, so he claimed one of the two empty tables. He figured she would find him when she arrived.
The store had big windows and shelves on the walls. There were a few items for sale, along with some harvest decorations. He saw pumpkins and a couple of ceramic turkeys. On one of the windowsills was a small replica of the Bluenose, a famous racing and fishing schooner from Nova Scotia.
As he sipped his latte, he tried to recall how, exactly, the mayor had found out about his sister. He didn’t remember mentioning Ginger or her engagement, but he must have because it wasn’t public knowledge. Maybe his friend Shep had said something. All he knew for sure was one minute he and the mayor had been talking about the upcoming Thanksgiving parade and the next she’d been asking about Ginger’s wedding. He’d admitted he was lost when it came to planning, and before he’d known it, the mayor had offered to find someone who could help. Not two hours later, she’d set up this meeting.
The door to Brew-haha opened and a woman entered. She was in her late twenties, with shoulder-length blond hair and blue eyes. She looked slightly rushed and a little frazzled. Not nervous, he thought as he studied her. More determined, with a little unsure thrown in.
Her gaze landed on him. Instantly her shoulders squared and her chin went up. Madeline, he thought, recognizing her from the mayor’s description and appreciating how she looked more resigned than thrilled. He supposed most people wanted to be liked. He did, too, but for the right reasons. Anyone who was impressed the second they met him left him looking for the closest exit. Because they weren’t there for him. They were there for Jonny Blaze, Action Star. Wariness was a lot more honest than gushing, and in his world, honesty was a sought-after commodity.
Madeline crossed the small café and stopped by his table. Her gaze was direct as she offered him a slight smile. “Mr. Blaze, I’m Madeline Krug. Mayor Marsha said you’d be expecting me.”
“Jonny,” he said easily, rising and pulling out a chair for her. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
She sat down and opened a large black tote. From inside, she pulled out a pad of notepaper and a pen. After placing both on the table, she drew in a breath and turned her attention to him.
“I understand your sister is getting married.”
“So she tells me.” He smiled.
Madeline stiffened, then drew in a breath. “December 26? The Saturday after Christmas?”
He nodded.
“All right. So here’s the thing. I work at Paper Moon. It’s a bridal gown store. I’m the manager there. I work with brides every day. I handle the details of their gowns, veils and often shoes. I outfit the wedding party. Sometimes I have to act as referee between various family members. Grandma doesn’t always approve of the bride’s choice.”
He’d seen enough reality TV to know that was true. But he had a feeling Madeline hadn’t yet gotten to the point of their conversation. She had something to say and he was going to be patient until she got it out.
She looked at her blank pad of paper, then back at him. “I’m not a professional wedding coordinator. I’m not even an amateur one. I’ve seen a lot of weddings and my friend Dellina, who’s an actual event planner, has offered to give me direction, but this isn’t what I do for a living. Having said that, I’m happy to help you with this, if you’d like. Or you can bring in someone from Los Angeles or wherever. It’s totally up to you.”