MONDAY MORNINGS SILVER usually slept in late. Weekends were always busy with two or three bookings. This past weekend, there had been a wedding Sunday afternoon—this after the Saturday night event. The beach wedding had gone until two in the morning while the Sunday afternoon wedding hadn’t ended until nearly ten at night. But despite the opportunity to stay in bed, she’d awakened at dawn.
She knew that Drew was the reason she hadn’t been able to indulge in her Monday morning ritual. Between the new partnership, Leigh’s upcoming wedding and the reality of Autumn, she had too much on her mind.
She got up and decided to take advantage of her extra time by cleaning her loft apartment. Then she placed her orders for the upcoming weekend and tried to figure out what to take to the girlfriend lunch.
Nearly every Monday or Tuesday she and her friends met for lunch. In a town where weddings dominated the calendar, the locals treated Monday and Tuesday as their weekend. Silver and her friends rotated hosting duties for their lunch. Whoever hosted provided the entrée while everyone else brought another dish. Silver was toying with the idea of making a salad when she realized she had a couple of leftover honeydew melons.
She cut them up, then pureed them with ice but didn’t add any sugar. She put the sealed container into a cooler along with a few cans of lemon-lime soda, plastic glasses and spoons. Before she left for the lunch, she called in an order to her favorite Mexican restaurant. She picked up chips, salsa, guacamole and a dozen chicken taquitos, then drove out to the animal preserve.
In addition to being a wedding destination town, Happily Inc was the proud home of one of the most awarded recycling centers in the country. Theirs was a town that recycled and composted in earnest. There were even competitions where residents on different blocks tried to have the least amount of trash each week.
The owners of the Happily Inc Landfill and Recycling Center had also purchased hundreds of adjoining acres where they’d started an animal preserve. The nonpredatory residents—zebras, gazelles, a water buffalo and a new-to-them herd of giraffes grazed, played and added a charming element to the already-quirky town.
Carol Lund-Mitchell ran the animal preserve. Her father and uncle owned the landfill and the surrounding land, and she took care of the animals. When it was Carol’s turn to host and the weather was nice, they ate outside in the preserve.
Silver followed another small pickup into the parking area by the main office, then waved as Bethany climbed out.
“Tell me you didn’t bring salad,” the pretty blonde called as she lifted a bakery bag off the seat next to her. “I’m very stressed these days and in desperate need of sugar and carbs.”
“I brought both.”
“That’s why I love you.” Bethany laughed. “Pallas texted to say she was bringing Renee to lunch today.”
“I know. I heard from her, too.”
Renee had moved to town a few months ago. Pallas had talked to Silver about adding her new employee to the girlfriend lunch. Given how tense Renee could be, Pallas hadn’t been sure, but Silver had given her a thumbs-up. Renee had loosened up in recent weeks and there had been hints of a wicked sense of humor.
“I’m excited not to be the new girl,” Bethany confessed.
“We can’t all have been born here,” Silver teased. “Some of us got lucky and some of us didn’t. But even us transplants become family.”
They walked onto the path leading into the preserve. After passing through a double set of gates, they made their way to the big tree where Carol usually set up lunch. She’d spread out a half dozen blankets and brought in big pillows for lounging.
Silver stared at the familiar arrangement. Carol, a sensible-looking redhead wearing khakis and work boots, looked at her.
“What? Did I forget something?”
Silver smiled. “I was just wondering how much longer we can have lunch out here. We try to get together at least three times a month and with us rotating the location through all six or seven of us, we won’t be back here for at least two months.” She eyed her friend’s rounded belly. “I’m not sure you and Pallas will be physically capable of sprawling on the ground then.”
Carol and Pallas were both pregnant. They were married to brothers, and Natalie, newly engaged to yet another Mitchell brother, had confessed to being incredibly vigilant when it came to birth control. She didn’t want any surprises until after the wedding.
Carol lightly touched her stomach. “We’ll move to the house when that happens. I’m not giving up my girlfriend lunches for anything.”
“Labor,” Bethany teased. “You might have to give up one or two when you have the baby.”
“We’ll see.”
Wynn and Natalie arrived, followed by Pallas and Renee. Everyone settled on the blankets.
“I have chicken salad sandwiches,” Carol said, pointing to a pink bakery box. “On croissants.”
Pallas moaned. “Sounds delicious.”
Silver explained about her wedding cocktail and how she had modified a nonalcoholic version for the lunch. Everyone helped themselves to food and Silver poured drinks. Bethany filled her plate, and then looked at Pallas.
“Thank you for still being my friend.”
Pallas rolled her eyes. “You’re marrying my brother. I don’t really have a choice in the matter, but even if I did, I would still like you. I swear.”
Bethany hung her head and sighed. “I hate my life.”
“You don’t,” Wynn told her. “You’re in love with a great guy.”
“There is that, but everything else.” She turned to Renee. “Do you know who I am?”
Renee put down her sandwich and cleared her throat. “Bethany Archer?”
Everyone laughed.
Pallas hugged Renee. “I think what Bethany is means is do you—” she made air quotes “—know who she is, as in her parents are the king and queen of El Bahar.”
Renee’s green eyes widened. “I didn’t know that. Am I supposed to call you something like ma’am or Your Highness?”
“No. Just Bethany.” She groaned and explained how her mother, an American schoolteacher, had gone to El Bahar to teach at the international school and had met and fallen in love with then–Crown Prince Malik.
“When my dad died, Malik adopted me,” she continued. “So while I have El Baharian citizenship, I was born in Riverside, California.”
Pallas smiled. “She brought over a stallion that my brother bought and they fell madly in love and now they’re getting married.”
“Maybe,” Bethany grumbled.
Silver stared at her. “What? No! What happened to madly in love? Why didn’t anyone say anything?” Silver might not be looking for love herself, but she very much wanted her friends to be happy.
“We’re fine,” Bethany said hastily. “It’s not us, it’s tradition.” She drew in a breath. “My parents really want me to get married in El Bahar. They want to do the big royal wedding. But that means not having the wedding here, where Cade grew up. We’re still working it all out.”
Natalie leaned toward Renee. “Apparently marrying a princess can be complicated.”
“It was never on my to-do list,” Renee murmured. “But I will keep it in mind.”
Everyone laughed.
“We’ll figure it out,” Pallas told her future sister-in-law. “I promise. You, me and your mom are still talking options.”
No one knew weddings better than Pallas, Silver thought fondly, but before she could say anything, she heard an odd rustling sound in the bushes on the other side of the tree. One of the zebras stepped out into the clearing and eyed them.
“That’s strange,” Natalie said, pointing to the handsome boy. “I thought the zebras pretty much kept to themselves.”
“They do.” Carol smiled. “Don’t worry—they’re perfectly safe.”
“Maybe they like taquitos,” Pallas said, waving one. “I know I do.”
Conversation shifted to Natalie’s recent success at the gallery where she worked part-time and showed her art. She’d been featured in a show and had sold everything. Wynn talked about how her son, Hunter, was doing in school this year.
Silver looked around at her friends. They were an interesting mix. Only Pallas had been born in Happily Inc. Natalie, Bethany and Renee were the most recent transplants. Carol had moved here a few years before that and Wynn had arrived maybe ten years ago. Silver couldn’t remember exactly. One day Wynn had arrived with a baby and enough cash to buy a print shop. There’d been no husband/father or other family. Wynn never talked about her past. She had secrets, but then who didn’t. Silver had moved to Happily Inc when she’d been fifteen.
“What are you thinking?” Natalie asked her. “You have the strangest look on your face.”
“Nothing specific,” Silver said with a laugh. “Just enjoying time with my friends.”
“Not me, though, right?” Pallas groaned. “You hate me. You have to.”
“I could never hate you.”
“Okay, but you hate my mother.” She sighed. “I really can’t blame you for that.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. “Crap. I shouldn’t have said that, should I? Now we have to talk about it. I’m sorry. It was private.”
Silver smiled, knowing Pallas would never deliberately say anything hurtful. Plus, she was going to tell everyone everything anyway. Once she started working with Drew, the truth would come out.
She turned to her friends. “The bank turned down my loan request for the trailers.”
“No!” Carol’s expression turned indignant. “Why would they do that?”
“They didn’t.” Pallas’s expression turned grim. “It was my mother. I know it was. Libby’s horrible. I swear she’s still pissed because you dated Drew all those years ago. Let me talk to Grandpa Frank. He would hate to know that she’s acting like this.”
“Who’s Drew?” Renee asked. “And Grandpa Frank? What trailers? You’re getting more trailers? They’re for the business, aren’t they? Because our clients love what you do.”
Silver smiled at her. “Yes, I wanted to buy two Airstreams. They’re gorgeous and perfect.”
“There’s a little one that could go up to Honeymoon Falls,” Wynn said as she picked up a taquito. “A lot of people want to have small weddings there but getting any kind of food or bar up that tiny, steep road has been impossible.”
“I’d worry about the competition but we’re turning away business every single week,” Renee said.
Pallas beamed. “This is so why I hired her.”
Everyone laughed except Carol.
“But what about the trailers?” she asked, worrying her lower lip. “Can we talk to someone else or do a GoFundMe or something?”
Silver sipped her nonalcoholic mimosa. “Yes, well, I have that covered. I’m taking on a business partner. Drew bought the trailers and he’s going to be a minority owner in the company.”
Those who didn’t know her history with Drew looked relieved. Pallas and Natalie, on the other hand, stared at her with identical looks of disbelief. Wynn’s smile was a combination of smug and I-told-you-so.
Renee groaned. “I hate being the new girl. What am I missing?”
“Drew and I have a past.” Silver shrugged. “We dated some in high school.”
Pallas rolled her eyes. “Dated some? Is that what we’re calling it? You didn’t date some. You two were the hot item. You nearly set the town on fire.” She sighed. “It was so romantic. And then Drew went to college and was a total butthead.”
“We broke up before he went,” Silver said mildly. “Although I appreciate the name-calling.”
“He wasn’t supposed to fall for someone else, but he did. He brought that snooty bitch home and everything.”
“There was a snooty bitch?” Carol asked. “Why didn’t I know about that?”
“Welcome to my world,” Renee murmured.
“She was awful,” Pallas continued. “I can never remember her name.”
“Ashley Lauren Grantham-Greene.”
“She sounds very hateable,” Natalie said.
Pallas nodded vigorously. “She was so awful. They were engaged and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. When Drew broke things off, she set his house on fire.”
“It was his car,” Silver corrected, trying not to smile at the memory. The engagement had been hard on her, but the fire had gone a long way to easing her broken heart. “Pallas, you always say the house, but it was his car.”
“Whatever. I still hate her.”
“Serves him right,” Natalie announced. “How could he not stay in love with you?”
“It’s a mystery.”
Renee looked at her. “It’s nice that you’ve moved on and become good enough friends that you can work together. He will bring a business acumen that balances nicely with your creativity and knowledge about the industry.”
Before Silver could respond, one of the gazelles walked toward them. She was slim and beautiful with huge eyes. She seemed to study them for a second before moving away.
“That was Bronwen,” Carol said. “She’s pretty tame, but she’s never gotten this close to us before. I wonder if it’s something we’re eating.”
“Or drinking,” Wynn said, waving the mimosa. “These are delicious.”
Silver watched the gazelle disappear into the bushes and wondered how to tell her friends the rest of the story. Not that it was complicated, she just wasn’t sure how to begin.
She sucked in a breath and told herself they would love her regardless. Wynn already knew and had never judged her. Just as important, her friends might have some good advice for getting through the mess she’d sort of, maybe created.
“I got pregnant,” she blurted.
Everyone turned to look at her. Several gazes dropped to her stomach. Only Wynn didn’t look surprised.
“When?” Pallas asked.
“Back in high school.” Silver told herself to just get it out there. “I knew Drew was heading off to college and that everything would be different for him when he was gone. I didn’t want him to think he owed me anything, so I broke up with him. I think I was secretly hoping he would quit school in a couple of weeks and come home to be with me.”
“Which didn’t happen,” Wynn said gently.
“No, it didn’t. About a month after he’d left, I figured out I was pregnant. I told my uncle and he asked me what I wanted to do. I decided to go see Drew and tell him face-to-face.”
“Because you thought he would say he loved you and wanted to marry you,” Renee said softly.
“Something like that.”
Carol’s eyes widened. “And?”
“And I told him and he proposed.”
Pallas’s mouth dropped open. “How could I not know this? You married Drew and you never told me? OMG! I can’t believe it. When? Where? You have a baby?”
Silver held up her hand. “We didn’t get married. I could tell he’d only proposed because he thought he should. He didn’t love me anymore and he certainly didn’t want to marry me.”
She told herself she could say the words without feeling anything. Time had passed and she was a completely different person now, as was Drew. She’d grown up, moved on, and he wasn’t on her radar as anyone but a business partner.
“What did you do?” Natalie asked, her voice soft.
“I told him I would have the baby and give it up for adoption. He signed the paperwork and that was that.”
No one looked convinced by that last statement. Wynn made a circular “go on” sign with her hand.
“My uncle helped me find a nice couple in Los Angeles who wanted to adopt. I went to meet them and liked them a lot. In fact I moved in with them my last few months.”
“That’s where you went!” Pallas sounded triumphant. “I knew you were off doing something but I always assumed you joined a biker gang.”
“Really? A biker gang? Have you ever seen me on a motorcycle?”
“No, but you’d look good on one.”
Silver laughed. “Thank you. Anyway I had the baby and came back here, only I couldn’t seem to get my life together.”
“You were still in love with Drew,” Carol said.
“I was. Eventually I got over him.” She smiled. “Ashley Lauren Grantham-Greene helped. Or maybe it was the car fire. Regardless, I moved on, but...”
She wasn’t sure how to explain what had happened. “Before I figured it all out, I was pretty lost. I ended up going back to LA and living with the couple who adopted Autumn. They eventually divorced, but I stayed close to Leigh, Autumn’s mom. Drew knows about the baby and that I gave her up, but nothing else. Not that I’m still in touch with her.” She paused. “She’s eleven.”
Pallas’s eyes widened. “Oh no, no, no. Your daughter being eleven isn’t the big deal, is it? That’s not why you’re telling us this.” She stared at Renee. “The Great Gatsby wedding.”
Renee’s mouth dropped open. “No way.” She spun to stare at Silver. “Seriously?”
“What are you talking about?” Carol demanded.
Pallas pressed a hand to her chest. “I can’t believe it, but I’m right, aren’t I?” She drew in a breath. “A couple of weeks ago, we had a couple cancel their wedding. It’s too late to do much in the way of refunding them money. Too much had already been ordered. The theme is The Great Gatsby—not my favorite book, but the era is gorgeous and they had such cute ideas for the event.”
“Did they break up?” Bethany asked.
“No. She got pregnant and they eloped. They had thought there would be fertility issues so they were thrilled to be having a baby. Not twenty-four hours later a woman called and asked if there was any chance she could have a wedding this fall. I told her about the cancellation and she was all in.” Pallas returned her attention to Silver. “Her name is Leigh and she has a daughter named Autumn and they’re coming here.”
“I know. I’m going to be the maid of honor.”
Her friends all stared at her. Natalie recovered first. “Just to recap, you and Drew had a baby together and while you gave up the baby for adoption, you stayed close with your daughter and the adoptive mother. All these years later, you’re still close, so close that you’re going to be in the wedding, which is being held here, in town, where you and Drew both live, with the adoptive mother and your daughter with Drew and he doesn’t know a thing. Oh, and you just went into business with him. Do I have that right?”
Things sounded even worse when put like that, Silver thought, not sure if she should laugh or learn to ride a motorcycle and take off on a long road trip.
“That’s pretty much it,” Silver told her. “Except for the part where I’m keeping Autumn for a week or so while her mom goes off on her honeymoon.”
Bethany leaned forward. “Your daughter with Drew, the one he doesn’t know about, is going to be here? In Happily Inc? For a week? With you?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Chances are he’s going to notice,” Wynn told her. “I’m just saying.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought, too.”
“So you’re going to have to tell him.”
Something Silver really didn’t want to think about. “That seems to be the most sensible plan.”
Natalie winced. “Um, good luck with that.”
“Thanks.”
Renee picked up her drink. “Amazing. And here I thought life in a small town would be boring.”
* * *
DESPITE LIVING UP in the mountains, Jasper Dembenski didn’t mind New York City. For him the noise quickly faded into the background, and the constant rush of people, cars and buses made it easy to blend in. The street layout made sense to him and he enjoyed walking blocks at a time, rather than taking a cab. And if getting crammed into an elevator with too many people ever got to him, he retreated to the comical irony of his life. He’d been an average kid who had grown up in a town in Montana no one had ever heard of, yet here he was, staying at the Peninsula Hotel and being wined and dined by his publisher. Who would have thought?
He went into the building, signed in with the security guard, then made his way to the bank of elevators. His editor, Sara, a petite, dark-haired woman in her late thirties, met him when he stepped out onto the twenty-second floor.
“You made it,” she said with a smile. “How was your flight?”
“Good. Easy.”
From Happily Inc he could drive to Los Angeles, Phoenix or Las Vegas, and then take a plane pretty much anywhere he wanted. For his trip to New York, he’d chosen to go through Los Angeles. His publisher always booked him first class and put him up at a fancy hotel. There was little to complain about.
“Hank’s already here,” Sara told him. “In the conference room.”
The first time he’d visited his publisher’s offices, he hadn’t known what to expect. He discovered that they were offices, kind of like every other business. Junior employees worked in cubicles and those higher on the food chain had nice private offices with windows. Instead of artwork, there were posters of book covers everywhere, and a gallery of author head shots. Pretty much every bit of wall space had bookshelves overflowing with books, but otherwise, there was little to distinguish this space from, say, an insurance broker.
Paper manuscripts had gone the way of the dinosaur—authors submitted digitally and were edited the same way. Copy edits were done with track changes, as were final page proofs. Cover art, from concept to finished product, was emailed. Jasper had started his writing career with a pad and pencil but had quickly learned if he was going to get serious, he had to work on a computer. Now he couldn’t imagine creating any other way.
“We’re all excited about the book you’re working on,” Sara said, leading him toward one of the conference rooms.
He chuckled. “Is that your not-so-subtle way of asking if I’m going to deliver the book on time?”
Sara smiled. “No, but now that you mention it...” She motioned him into a small conference room. “How is the book going?”
“I’m on track. I should be done in plenty of time.”
“That’s exactly what I want to hear.”
He walked in and shook hands with his agent. Hank was a small, thin man pushing fifty. His unassuming appearance belied his killer instinct. They’d met at the first writer’s conference Jasper had attended. He’d entered a contest where the finalists had their pages read by a New York agent. Hank was way too powerful to judge contests or bother with conferences, but when a junior agent at his firm had been too sick to attend, Hank had volunteered to go in her place. Jasper had won the contest, Hank had read the pages and signed him within a week.
“You made it,” Hank said as they sat down. “Everything good on your flight and with the hotel?”
“Couldn’t be better.”
When Jasper had sold his first book, he’d still been fairly messed up from his time in the army. PTSD, brought on by years of fighting overseas, had a way of doing that to a person. He’d agreed to go on a book tour before realizing what that meant. The itinerary—flying all over the country to speak at bookstores and then sign books—had terrified him. Crowds were tough and airports had been impossible. They’d compromised by spreading out the events and having him drive himself from city to city.
Over the years, he’d gotten better. Flying would never be fun, but he could do it. The same with speaking to a large group. The signings were easy because he liked meeting his readers. But while he’d relaxed into the process, Sara and Hank always monitored him, as if concerned he was going to have an episode at any second. He supposed he was enough of a jerk to kind of enjoy their tension.
One of the assistants brought in coffee. Sara waited until he’d left before speaking.
“You’d mentioned this was the second to the last book in the series,” she began. “Next year you’ll write the last book, then start something new.”
Jasper nodded. “I’ve been playing around with an idea for a military series.”
Hank and Sara glanced at each other. “We’re excited about the idea,” Hank told him. “Are you ready to write it?”
Jasper didn’t think he would ever be ready, but he was starting to think it was time. He’d already created the main character—an amalgamation of three guys he’d known back in Afghanistan. Three good men who had been killed. He wanted to tell their stories without violating their privacy. Creating one character that took the best of each of them solved the problem.
“I’ve got a good handle on what I want to do,” Jasper said. “I’m thinking of an open-ended series. Military crimes, some with a civilian connection.”
Sara’s eyes brightened. “We would love that. You’re the best at what you do. Just to be clear, next year you’ll write the last book in your current series, and then you’ll start the new series after that.”
“Yes.”
Hank leaned forward. “Vidar needs a love interest.”
Jasper resisted rolling his eyes. “So you’ve told me.”
“Hank’s right,” Sara added. “It’s time. You have female readers who adore you, but come on. You need a fully realized woman in one of your books. One who is more than a one-night stand or a victim. It will help you grow as a writer. Vidar falling in love will make readers bond with him more and bring the series to a satisfying conclusion.”
A conversation they’d had before. Jasper knew the argument. Vidar, his ongoing hero, was too one-dimensional. He needed a personal life. A deeper backstory. Less grunts and more conversation.
His argument that the character borrowed heavily from the Norse mythology—the son of Odin and a giantess named Grid, Vidar was silent and known for his physical strength and therefore was unchangeable—was wearing thin.
What he didn’t tell them and would barely admit to himself was his resistance wasn’t about the story. He knew they were right in their assessment of his story arc. The problem was him—he wasn’t sure he knew how to write a woman and he sure as hell couldn’t figure out how anyone fell in love.
“I’ll see what he can do,” he told them.
“Excellent.” Hank nodded. “Now Sara has some interesting ideas about next year’s tour.”
Sara smiled. “I hope you’re going to be excited. We want to do something different.”
Their idea of exciting and his had little in common, he thought, but nodded to show he was willing to listen.
Sara leaned toward him. “We want to send you to Europe. All your publishers there are clamoring to see you. England, France, Spain, Italy and of course Germany.”
“You’re huge in Germany,” Hank reminded him.
“We’re hoping for three weeks.” Her tone was cautious. “If you think you could manage that.”
He’d never been to Europe, he thought. Never thought he’d go. He was fairly sure his passport was out-of-date, but that was easily rectified.
“Make it four weeks so I can have a day or two off in each of the countries,” he told them. “I’d like to look around and see a few things.”
“Excellent.” Sara jotted on her pad of paper. “Now about the US tour. We really want to push the book and have you visit as many of the accounts as possible.” She smiled. “Before you glower at me, we’ve come up with what we think is the perfect solution.”
She pulled a large, glossy brochure from under the pad and handed it to him. Jasper looked at the cover and started to laugh. “Seriously?”
The picture showed a luxury RV on a highway. He turned the page and saw a layout along with a list of amenities.
Sara’s expression was hopeful. “We’d take care of renting the trailer and booking your trailer sites or camping spaces or whatever they’re called. In the big cities like Chicago and St. Louis, you’d leave the trailer parked at the site and stay at a hotel for a couple of days. But most of the time you’d be on your own, driving from place to place. No escort, no airports, no rush. What do you think?”
“How long would you want me to be on tour?”
She worried her lower lip. “Three months?”
It was a long time to be gone, but it wasn’t as if he had a lot waiting for him at home. He thought briefly of Wynn, but theirs was a casual relationship—no promises, no strings. He’d left Happily Inc three days ago and he hadn’t heard from her. He would be gone another couple of weeks and they wouldn’t be in touch until he was home. Like he’d first thought—he was free to do what he wanted.
“Let’s do it,” he told Sara. “I’ll use the road time to get my last book in the series figured out, then go home and write it.”
Hank grinned. “Fantastic. Your sales are going to go through the roof.”
Jasper nodded as if that mattered to him as well, but in truth, the writing was a lot more about keeping the demons at bay and his ability to look himself in the mirror than about any royalty check. The writing had saved him when he’d thought nothing could. Without his stories, he wouldn’t be here today—of that he was sure.