CHAPTER ONE

      “IS IT TRUE? The Barrett wedding is canceled?”

      Grace Clarke looked up from her phone. “Yes.”

      “Wow.” Patsy McLean, Mirror Lake Lodge’s longtime business manager, entered Grace’s office and plopped down in one of the overstuffed burgundy chairs that fronted her glass desk. “This is not good.”

      “No. It’s not.” She tossed her phone aside and eyed her friend. “I’m trying not to hyperventilate.”

      “You never hyperventilate. Not even during the clown reunion. Remember that?”

      Grace shuddered. “I still have nightmares.”

      “The big curly-haired clown had a crush on you,” Patsy reminded her. “He wanted you to wear polka dots and learn to play the harmonica.”

      “And the one with all the tattoos thought you should join the circus and live happily ever after with a man who turns balloons into animals.”

      Patsy sighed. “There are times when I think I should have gone with him.” Her daughter was in the middle of a nasty divorce and had returned home six months ago, her twin toddlers in tow, while she and her cheating ex worked out the details. Patsy and her recently retired husband were still reeling from the chaos.

      “It’s too late,” Grace declared. “No circus clowns for us.”

      “Speak for yourself, sweetie. You’re still ridiculously young and so pretty. You could have all the clowns you want.”

      “I guess that’s a compliment?”

      “It is. I wish I had your figure, your skin, your age.” Patsy sighed. “Please tell me you’re going out with that real-estate agent who found the condo for you. What is his name?”

      “Brad.”

      “Did he ask you out?”

      “Not exactly. I believe his exact words were, ‘If you ever get, like, really lonely, give me a call and maybe we can hook up.’”

      “I’m sorry I asked.” Patsy eyed the various cardboard boxes lining the walls of Grace’s small office. “So, what happened with the wedding? Did the groom get cold feet? Did the bride run away with the best man?”

      “I’m not sure. Right now it’s a mystery.” She leaned forward and took a sip of very cold coffee from a mug that said Fail To Plan, Plan To Fail.

      “Who told you?”

      “Both of them, actually. It was pretty grim. Julie did the talking. And the poor groom just looked stunned. Like he didn’t know what hit him.”

      “So she’s the one who has the cold feet? Or another lover? Or her parents hate the groom.