California Dreaming: Four Contemporary Romances (115 page)

Sally nodded, then turned to the couple behind them to help them with their food choices.

Mandy spotted Alicia sitting at a table by herself, holding her baby in her lap. The young woman looked troubled. Mandy handed James her plate and made up a third plate to bring with her. She headed to Alicia’s table, James following behind.

“Mind if we join you? I brought you something to eat.”

“Oh, no. Thank you.” Alicia’s beautiful face beamed up at them, a shadow of Sarah echoed in her full lips.

“James, this is Alicia, Elizabeth’s partner in the Costanoa spa, and Sarah’s half-sister.”

They sat down.

“How’s Luis doing?” she asked.

Alicia gazed at the sleeping boy sprawled on her lap before looking up with watery eyes. “I don’t know. I look at Sarah’s Hannah, and she’s doing more things than Luis is and she’s several months younger than he is. The doctor keeps telling me he’s a late developer, but I don’t know. Something feels wrong to me.”

“Maybe you should take him somewhere else. To a specialist,” James said.

Alicia nodded. “I’ve already thought about that. I did some research on doctors at Stanford and found one that specializes in infant development. Now I’m trying to get an appointment and wrangling with the insurance company.”

“I’m so sorry,” Mandy said. “It has to be hard.”

Alicia nodded. “But I’m lucky.” She grinned. “Not only do I have one mother, but I have two mothers who are happy to give advice.” She gestured to Elizabeth.

They laughed. Nothing could perpetually dim Alicia’s spirit.

As the reception went on, they mingled with other couples, eventually spending time with Elizabeth and Marcos who repeated the plans for Italy, their eyes shining with happiness.

“How is your father?” Elizabeth asked Mandy.

“He’s good.” Dana had become bright spot in Mandy’s life. “We had dinner with his family last week. The girls are totally gaga over James.” She laughed. “Of course, rumors of nepotism are already making the Hollywood rounds.”

“Fortunately, nepotism is widely accepted in the industry. We wouldn’t get anywhere without it,” James said.

“It sounds like everything in Italy,” Elizabeth said with a grin.

“True,” Marcos said. “Sad, but true.”

Within a few hours the party wrapped up, and the family retired to the inn’s kitchen. Mandy and James helped Sally clean up and stow everything in the RV.

“Are you staying here tonight?” Mandy asked Sally when they were done.

Sally shook her head. “I have a friend down toward Carmel. I figured I’d stay there tonight. We can catch up, and I’ll be that much closer to LA. I’ll see you Wednesday. We have a few new prospects we need to discuss.”

Mandy nodded. Partnering with Sally had been a good choice. “See you then.”

James took her hand as they walked back to the inn, comforting her with his nearness.

After Elizabeth, Marcos, Annie, and John left an hour later, Sarah said, “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m exhausted. Hannah doesn’t understand weddings yet, so she’ll be up early demanding to be fed.” She stood and put a hand on her lower back as she arched. “Good night. See you in the morning.”

“We’ll shut everything off,” Mandy said as she looked around what used to be her domain.

“Do you miss it?” James asked as he stroked her arm.

“Sometimes. It was definitely a lot less hectic than what I’m doing now.” She glanced around the homey kitchen. No high-end steel and granite here. Simple function led the way. “This was a good stepping stone, but I think I like the intensity of movie catering better.” She grinned at James. “Movie people aren’t all bad, either.”

He stood and pulled her to her feet. “I know how I can prove you right.”

“I’m always right.”

“Uh-huh.” He lowered his lips and kissed her, awakening the passion that had been simmering for most of the day. “Shut off the lights.”

Once the kitchen was dark, they headed up the stairs to the best room in the inn.

Casey Dawes writes and quilts on the Clark Fork River in Missoula, Montana, where she spends far too much time watching wildlife from her “woman cave.” She shares her peaceful abode with a husband she adores and two cats who think they own the joint.

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Being past prom age never stopped a Southern woman from putting glitter on her face—“sparkle when you can,” being the predominant philosophy. Generally, Neyland Reese MacKenzie embraced that idea, but lately the only Sparkle on her mind was her handcrafted jewelry shop—now defunct because she couldn’t pay the rent. Which was why she was working out of her friend Noel’s quilt shop, Piece by Piece.

“Neyland!” Hannah, one of Noel’s salesgirls, hurried into the workroom. “There’s a guy out front and he wants to buy
Annabelle
!”

Neyland’s hands stilled on the silver wire bracelet she was making.

“Are you sure? He’s not just looking or trying to haggle?” Excitement rippled through Neyland, but she was afraid to hope too much. She hadn’t sold an important piece in almost a year. Inspired by an Edwardian watch fob,
Annabelle
was a heavy gold link necklace set with lapis lazuli and opals—and the most expensive piece in Neyland’s collection.

“I’m sure! He has his credit card out and everything!”

If only this had happened last week, Neyland would’ve been able to pay the rent on Sparkle. But it hadn’t, and she’d had to ask for her old space back in Noel’s shop—and though her friend had welcomed her back, it had been humiliating. Neyland rose, almost dizzy with delight. It had been a long time since she’d been able to afford gold, platinum, semi-precious gems, or any materials except the sterling silver that she used to make the simple pieces that were impulse purchases for the tourists who came through Beauford.

Beauford, a small artisan boutique town located outside Nashville, boasted some of the finest craftsmen in the country. Despite her lack of financial success, Neyland stubbornly counted herself among them. But this could change things. The other artisans in town insisted that she just needed to sell that one piece that would get her noticed.

“I’m so excited.” Hannah clapped her hands together. Neyland had to smile. She had promised the high school girls who worked part time for Noel a hundred dollars commission on any important piece they sold, which was less percentage wise than the ten per cent they earned on the little whimsical silver pieces, but, under the circumstances, it was the best Neyland could do. She still had to buy silver and pay the rent on her little apartment above Sparkle. “He wanted to know if we could ship it. I told him we could. Was that okay?”

“Absolutely. I think we can afford a little shipping for what
Annabelle
will bring us.” Neyland slipped out of her Yellow Box flip-flops and put on the black Christian Louboutin pumps she never should have bought. She’d gone a little crazy last year after selling
Catherine
, the bracelet inspired by a diamond wheat tiara that had belonged to the Russian imperial family. She’d thought
Catherine
was
the
piece that would bring her success, so after buying precious metals, semiprecious stones, jade, onyx, and amber for new creations, Neyland had celebrated by buying the shoes, a Louis Vuitton bag, and a few really good, classic designer garments. Then she’d moved out of Piece by Piece, opened Sparkle, and worked night and day until she had five new pieces that that she was sure would sell quickly.

But none of them had sold—until now. Maybe this would be the sale that would change everything, maybe even lead to a commissioned work that would allow her to finally work with emeralds and diamonds.

Neyland hadn’t realized how wide her smile was until she stepped out of the workroom and that smile froze and melted.

Gabe Beauford—back in Beauford for his brother’s wedding next week, the same wedding in which Neyland would serve as a bridesmaid for her friend Emory.

How had Hannah not known who he was? Not only was Gabe the brother of country music superstar Jackson Beauford, he was a two-time, Super Bowl-winning San Antonio Wrangler. And it was no coincidence that his last name was the same as the town’s.

Only a man with extraordinary self-confidence or one spoiling for a fight on the playground would have the nerve to wear those orange seersucker, go-to-hell shorts covered in football helmets—even if he did pair them with a luxurious, gently wrinkled, white linen shirt.

Too much. That was Gabe Beauford all over—too tall, too ripped, too good-looking, too much blond hair. And too, too beloved by Neyland’s father, Conrad MacKenzie, revered football coach of the Beauford High Blue Devils.

And here Gabe stood like a Viking warrior who’d recently finished looting a village, nonchalantly swinging Neyland’s precious
Annabelle
from his index finger like a pendulum high on speed and good times.

The lapis stones perfectly matched his eyes.

She’d have to speak to Hannah about leaving scoundrels alone with valuable, unguarded merchandise. Neyland reached out, caught the necklace, and pulled it from his finger. She knew what he intended to do with
Annabelle,
and she was having no part of it.

And, though it wasn’t entirely rational, Neyland wanted no part of Gabe Beauford either. Being the daughter of a successful and revered high school football coach had never been easy, but it had been down right intolerable when, at fifteen, Gabe Beauford had burst onto the scene, catching uncatchable passes, setting records, and—worst of all—taking up Conrad MacKenzie’s time—time that should have been Neyland’s. She had been ten at the time.

Gabe’s deceased parents had been best friends with Neyland’s, so she had always known the Beaufords, but Football Player Gabe was a different story from the Gabe who was simply one of those older and not-very-interesting Beauford brothers. She had long been accustomed to the energy her father gave his team, but never before had she been confronted with a player who was allowed to come to the house whenever he wanted and stay as long as he liked. He was always there—at the dinner table, on family movie night, and locked up with her father in the den watching game film.

Even Neyland’s mother, who was usually sympathetic to Neyland’s jealousy of Conrad’s time, had no tolerance for Neyland’s attitude. Once, when Neyland had burst out that the only reason Gabe got so much attention was because he was such a good wide receiver, Vanessa MacKenzie had told Neyland she should be ashamed of herself, that Gabe needed a father figure since his was dead. At the time, Neyland had thought her father might as well be dead, too, for all the attention he paid her. While that might not have been true, it was how she had felt—and evidently how she still felt.

The day Gabe Beauford graduated from high school and left for the University of Tennessee was the happiest of Neyland’s life, but, still, hardly a day went by that her father did not bring up Gabe’s name. He didn’t even seem to have any opinion on Gabe’s legendary womanizing.

Too bad
she
hadn’t been a football player.

“Hey, Neyland.” Gabe’s slow, lazy tone matched his slow, lazy smile. “Bad storm last night. We lost some trees out at Beauford Bend.”

“Nothing that will impact the wedding, I hope.” Emory deserved the perfect outdoor wedding she’d always wanted.

“Nah. They were up nearer the road. I went down to your shop, but the sign said you’d temporarily moved back in here.”

“Yes.” And she rattled off the story she and Noel had agreed on. “Noel and I used to share this shop before I opened Sparkle. Nickolai’s getting out of the hospital today, and Noel needs my help minding the shop so she can take care of him.” Noel’s boyfriend played hockey for the Nashville Sound and had gotten a nasty neck laceration in a game last week. “Also, once the Stanley Cup Playoffs start and Nickolai’s able to play again, Noel wants to be free to go to at least some of the road games.” Noel had insisted that part was true and refused to accept money for the space Neyland was using. Of course, Noel had more commissions than she could handle.

“Glaz is tough. He won’t be out long.” Gabe pointed to
Annabelle
and extended his credit card. “Nice.”

Did he really think she didn’t know what he was going to do with it?

“Hannah said you wanted us to ship it. So I assume it’s not a wedding gift for Emory?”

Gabe laughed, and the dimple in his left cheek flirted with her. “Don’t forget I’m the nephew of Amelia Beauford, founder of the Beauford Bend charm school, otherwise known as A Fortnight of Refinement and Training for Young Ladies
.
I don’t think she would have thought it appropriate for me to spend this kind of money on jewelry for another man’s fiancée. And I think Emory would agree, as Amelia’s faithful follower. I know my brother would.”

“So,
you’ve
gotten engaged? It’s for
your
fiancée? Or are you going to wear it yourself?”

“No.” He didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. “Fact is, I had a little something to settle before coming here, and I need to soothe some hurt feelings.”

“So it’s one of your famous kiss-off gifts?”

He laughed like he thought he was charming. “I don’t know so much about famous, but I’ve found that a little something pretty goes a long way in making things easier for everybody.”

“I see.”

He frowned. “I’m getting a hint of displeasure here, Neyland. What do you care? I fail to see why you need to approve this little doodad’s future home. Am I buying this thing or adopting it?”