Unfortunately, Sierra’s rental car wasn’t drivable, so she had to get a replacement from Pete’s Auto Sales, the only company in Sugar Pines that rented vehicles. And as it turned out, all Pete had available was an old mini-van that smelled like stale French fries. Driving this decrepit vehicle around Sugar Pines was a little too reminiscent of how Sierra grew up. Maybe fate was punishing her for trying to rise above her upbringing. She let out a humorless laugh. She was certainly being punished for something.

Of all the people to rear end, why did it have to be Dalton? The irony was, if she hadn’t been so shocked at seeing Dalton’s last name on the sign above his office, she wouldn’t have hit him. Seeing Dalton again had thrown Sierra into a tailspin. She didn’t want her old feelings unearthed. Didn’t want to question whether she’d made the right decision, fleeing to New York. Her mind kept replaying the fierce look in Dalton’s silver-gray eyes and his easy smile. She didn’t want to dwell on the unexpected flame of desire in her stomach when he’d approached her car. Or how her heart did a little flip when their eyes connected.

Crap! Crap! Crap! She couldn’t do this. It was imperative that she stay focused on the goal. She’d always had a weakness for Dalton. He was her kryptonite. Heck, half the female population of Sugar Pines probably felt the same way. Dalton was the epitome of attractive with his rugged looks and fearless take on life. She didn’t remember him being as ripped in the old days as he was now. Heat flamed up her neck just thinking about the way his t-shirt formed to his defined torso and flat abs. Not to mention his cut biceps.

Sierra turned on the air conditioner, but it only blew warm, stale air. Great! She rolled down the driver’s side window. Holding onto the steering wheel with one hand, she used her other to fan her face. It was ridiculous how worked up she was getting over Dalton. She felt freaked out and guilty that she’d had such a strong reaction to Dalton, especially when she was so totally and completely in love with Parker.

She tried to picture the compassionate look in Parker’s deep-brown eyes. How sophisticated he was—knowing the best items to order on any given menu at the most exclusive restaurants in Manhattan. Parker was a whiz in the advertising world, known for his uncanny ability to recognize trends. He had the remarkable combination of being both creative and sensible when it came to business.

Parker was refined, graceful even. Whereas, Dalton was a blunt instrument—a fierce warrior who rushed into danger without a second thought. She’d loved that about Dalton when she was a silly teenager. But Dalton had his own share of demons … demons that would ensnare her if she let them.

What Sierra wanted more than anything was stability. Something she could count on. She wanted Parker. Mentally, she started running through the list of Parker’s qualities. She’d do it a thousand times, if necessary. Anything to crowd out these irrational thoughts of Dalton.

Sierra turned into Magnolia Grove where the twin mansions were located—Bennie’s and the Drexel’s. She scowled, still finding it hard to believe that Dalton had bought the Drexel Mansion. It must’ve cost a fortune. How could he afford it? He was probably getting some sort of retirement from the Marines. And then there was his construction business. But even those two combined wouldn’t be all that much, would it? Maybe he was doing super well with his construction business. They were close enough to Charleston and Hilton Head for him to pick up business there.

Sierra didn’t like the idea of Dalton being right next door, a mere football field’s length away from Bennie’s mansion. It was hard enough to put him out of her mind as it was. Having him right next door wouldn’t help matters.

Her gaze trailed along the neat rows of burly magnolia trees lining the road on both sides. The blooms were at their peak, stunning pops of white amidst the vivid green, waxy leaves. Sierra rolled down her window and caught a whiff of the sweet-floral fragrance, taking her back to when she was a little girl.

Town legend had it that the trees were planted to represent the number of suitors the original Drexel Mansion owner’s daughter Louise went through before finally settling down with her husband. There had to be at least thirty trees, if not more. Louise must’ve been a rounder. Sierra shook her head, laughing at the thought. The stories probably weren’t even true. Or if there was a shred of truth, it was blown way out of proportion. No one could have that many suitors.

Before it was dubbed the Drexel Mansion, the monstrous mansion next door to Bennie’s had been called the Radcliffe Mansion. Barton Radcliffe, a steel tycoon, moved to Sugar Pines in the early 1900s from San Francisco. He built the mansion for his new bride. They had one daughter named Louise. Louise was the belle of the town, suitors coming from near and far to try and win her hand.

When she finally accepted a hand in marriage and settled down, Barton built Louise and her new husband a mansion right next door. But Louise’s husband turned out to be a scoundrel who loved to gamble almost as much as he loved fraternizing with the women. He put the mansion up in a poker game and lost it to Henry McCain. Henry had two daughters Bennie and Claire, Sierra’s mother.

Henry McCain owned the mansion free and clear and had left it to both his daughters. When Sierra’s mother passed, the ownership passed to Bennie who’d never married. It was understood that Bennie would leave the mansion to Sierra.

She couldn’t believe Bennie had been stupid enough to take out a loan to fund an outdoor theater. The woman was completely losing it. And now it fell to Sierra to try to clean up the mess and save the mansion. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, a wave of panic overtaking her. How in the heck was she supposed to raise enough money for the back payments?

Sierra turned into the driveway that ran beside the house. In the mellow light of the afternoon sun, the mansion held a sense of grandeur, like the by-gone South from storybooks and movies where plantations dotted the countryside and cotton was king. True to its antebellum architecture, the mansion had two spacious balconies, one stacked over the other, spanning the width of the two-story structure. The gleaming white handrails and spindles were separated by eight massive square pillars. The three gables across the top added the crowning touch.

Had the siding been white, the house would’ve been a shoe-in for Twelve Oaks, the Wilkes’s plantation in Gone with the Wind. But Sierra preferred the soft moss color that blended with the lush green of the surrounding landscape. Black shutters flanked the windows across the front, matching the stately door.

Live oaks towered over the house, their far-spread branches reminding Sierra of protective arms. Spanish moss hung over the branches, like someone had artfully draped it there. Her heart clutched. This was home—her anchor. Even though she’d moved to The Big Apple and was making her way in the world, knowing the mansion was here had been a comfort. Sierra couldn’t imagine losing it. She wouldn’t lose it!

As she pulled around the back to the circular parking lot, she was surprised to see several cars. Probably people in the play. She blew out a long breath as she got out of the van and pushed her purse strap over her shoulder. She’d hoped to be able to greet Bennie alone, on her own terms without a bunch of people around. But that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon. Bennie thrived on having lots of people around.

Sierra left her luggage in the car, deciding to get it out later. She glanced toward the hill in the distance and saw the top of a wood pavilion. The stupid outdoor theater! It was insane to think Bennie had taken out a loan to fund the blasted thing. Bennie was going to get an earful from her … after she made sure Bennie’s knee was okay.

She opened the back gate and walked along the brick walkway that meandered through Bennie’s rose garden. Then she went up the steps and across the covered deck to the back door, leading to the kitchen. It seemed silly to knock so she went inside. “Hello,” she called, glancing around.

No answer.

The kitchen was shabbier than Sierra remembered. The white cabinets had yellowed, the paint peeling in spots. The once-white grout on the tile floor was now gray. Throw rugs on the floor were dingy and ragged. Dirty dishes were piled high in the sink. The island was cluttered with piles of paperwork and the remains of sandwich materials—a loaf of bread, slices spilling out of the package. There were open containers of mayonnaise, mustard, and a near-empty bag of chips. A stack of disposable cups sat beside a clear plastic pitcher of red Kool-Aid. The air reeked of sour milk, and the garbage can in the corner was overflowing, fruit flies swarming over it. Sierra cringed. Bennie had never been one to keep things super tidy, but this was ridiculous. Then again, Bennie was probably doing the best she could, considering her injured knee.

As Sierra strode down the hall towards the living room, she heard voices. “Hello,” she said again, stepping into the room. Bennie, along with Nadine Thompson, her neighbor from across the street were laughing and talking to a group of people—one lady and two men.

Bennie looked up from where she was reclining on the couch, her knee propped up on a mountain of pillows. Sierra took a quick assessment of her aunt. Her silver hair was styled, rounding on her shoulders. She was wearing makeup. Her bright blue eyes were a little watery but still lively beneath her glasses, and she was dressed in a stylish, green pantsuit. Sierra’s first thought was that she was glad Bennie wasn’t wearing some ridiculous costume.

Upon closer inspection, Bennie was a little pale. But overall, she looked much better than Sierra expected, which was a relief and irritation at the same time. Sierra had dropped everything and rushed here to help, but Bennie seemed to be taking everything in stride. Then again, Bennie was a good actress, used to putting on a good face. She’d probably wilt like a tulip thirsting for water when her friends left.

“Sierra,” she beamed, her face radiating joy as she held out her hands.

Sierra hugged her, getting lost in the soft folds of Bennie’s arms. She inhaled Bennie’s familiar scent—baby powder and hairspray. Memories of her childhood wafted over her, and she thought of the monstrous cans of Aqua Net hairspray Bennie used to buy. The bigger the better was Bennie’s philosophy.

Bennie held Sierra tight. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she breathed dramatically like Sierra was the prodigal daughter returning from a long, arduous journey. Finally, when Sierra pulled away, Bennie announced, “Everyone, this is my beautiful niece, Sierra.” She flashed Sierra an adoring smile. “She came all the way from New York City to look after me.”

It was sometimes hard to know when Bennie was being genuine or when she was putting on a show. Considering Bennie had a captive audience, it was probably the latter. Bennie’s antics were sort of endearing, most of the time. But today, Sierra was worn out from traveling and frustrated about the wreck. Speaking of which, Dalton’s truck didn’t look nearly as bad as the rental car, and luckily, it was drivable.

A dull headache was spreading across Sierra’s forehead and all she could think about was how she needed to get ready for the brainstorming session tomorrow for Pristine Pizza. An automatic smile fixed over her face as she turned to the people in the room eying her with interest. In Sugar Pines, people were keenly interested in the comings and goings of each other, and every other piddling detail. In New York City, people couldn’t care less about what other people did.

Hellos went around the room as people shook Sierra’s hand and introduced themselves. Nadine gave her a tight hug and whispered in her ear. “I’m so glad you’re here. Bennie may not act like it, but she really does need your help.”

Sierra nodded, feeling a little better. Growing up, Nadine had been a confidant to her. She could always count on Nadine to steer her in the right direction.

“Have a seat,” Bennie said. “We were just discussing the play.” She pointed to the small-boned man with black hair and olive-toned skin. “Landon is the director. His son Teddy is taking over playing Macbeth for Freddie Allen. The poor man’s too sick to do anything but lay around the house. His croup turned into pneumonia.”

Landon offered a slight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“And Myra is taking over my part.” Bennie pointed to the fifty-something-year-old woman with white-blonde, short, spiky hair and round glasses.

Myra smiled and nodded.

“It pains me to say this, but Myra’s a superstar in the acting world and will knock this out of the park. I’m sure the audience will be thrilled she’s taking my place.”

Myra blushed a deep red and seemed to duck a little under the praise. “That’s not true,” she argued, but her protest was feeble, like she was only saying it so she wouldn’t hurt Bennie’s feelings. Sierra’s first thought was that Myra seemed like the mousy, skittish type who’d be better off backstage. Then again, Sierra knew from being around Bennie and her friends that some of the best actors had personalities like wet noodles off the stage. Their empty vessels would come alive when filled with other personas. “I’m glad you’re able to help out,” Sierra said, mostly because she wasn’t sure what else to say.

Bennie pointed to an empty chair. “Have a seat, and we’ll fill you in on the particulars.” Her eyes lit up, her voice bursting with excitement. “Sierra’s an account executive at a fancy advertising agency in New York. She knows all about marketing.”

The comment was an invisible wand that turned the expressions on Bennie’s friends to ones of awe. Any other time, Sierra might’ve been amused at how Bennie was hamming it up, hitting the touch points to impress her friends. But all she wanted to do right now was get her things unpacked and talk to Bennie privately, so she could figure out how to fix this mess. Sierra rubbed a hand over her forehead as she flashed an apologetic smile. “If you don’t mind, I’m kind of tired. It’s been a long day.”

“We’ll make it short,” Bennie said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You need to know about the play, if you’re going to help.” She jutted out her chin, locking eyes with Sierra.

Irritation sparked through Sierra. Not what she wanted to hear right now. She cocked an eyebrow, tempted to lay into Bennie in front of her friends. Then she saw the flash of amusement in Bennie’s eyes, followed by a look of reproof. Bennie could be a force to be reckoned with when she wanted to be. And it had been ingrained in Sierra to respect her elders, even if that elder was a little on the crazy side. So she did what any polite southern girl would do—held her tongue and sat down. She let out a heavy breath. “All right, I’m listening.”

“The opening takes place two weeks from tomorrow,” Bennie began, “on a Thursday, with performances following on Friday and Saturday. It’ll run for two weeks, meaning there are six performances total.”

Sierra nodded. Parker wouldn’t like the idea of her staying here for four weeks, but it might be her only option. “How many tickets have you sold so far?” Her heart dropped a little when she saw a concerned look pass between Bennie and Landon.

He cleared his throat. “Our opening performance for Thursday night is sold out. We’ve sold a little more than forty percent of the tickets for Friday and Saturday.”

Not great, but a good start, Sierra thought. “How much are tickets?”

“They run from fifteen dollars for seating on the grass to seventy-five dollars for the better seats,” Bennie piped in. “Plus, we give a thirty percent discount for children and seniors.”

Sierra looked around at the faces studying her. “How many people does the theater seat?”

“Eight hundred and fifty … give or take,” Landon answered. “If the demand warranted it, we could probably put more people on the grass, another hundred, maybe.”

Sierra hadn’t even seen the theater yet. She hoped it was nice, since it could potentially cost Bennie the mansion. She squelched the irritation that burned her chest. “Has anyone done an assessment of how much profit could be made per performance?”

The man sitting beside Landon held up his hand. “Not necessarily profit, but I have the numbers for the gross intake.” He thumbed through his notebook, then cleared his throat. “If we can sell at least eighty percent of the tickets, we should bring in around twenty-four thousand per show.”

Hope sprang in Sierra’s breast. Six shows total at eighty percent capacity would bring in roughly one hundred and forty-four thousand. Bennie only needed twenty-two thousand to get caught up on the loan. Of course, the numbers the man was spouting off were gross, not net. But still, expenses couldn’t be all that much. She cocked her head. “How much do the actors get paid?”

Everyone looked at each other in confusion.

“That’s the beautiful part,” Bennie inserted, her face practically glowing. “Everyone’s a volunteer.”

Sierra’s eyes bugged. “Really?”

A smile filled Bennie’s face. “Really.”

Landon pressed his lips together with a determined nod. “Yep, we love donating our time and efforts to such a worthy cause.” He looked at Bennie. “We try hard to keep operating costs low so we’ll have enough left to fund future productions.”

“And to help repay expenses Bennie incurred in building the theater,” Nadine added, giving Sierra a meaningful look.

This was sounding better and better. There was hope of saving the mansion, if they filled the seats to at least eighty percent capacity. Sierra ticked through the list of known expenses—set design, marketing, electricity for the stage, costumes. She grimaced. “I’m sure the Shakespearean costumes cost a pretty penny.”

“Yes, normally they would,” Bennie agreed. “But we’re borrowing them from a playhouse in Charleston.” She waved a hand. “Of course, there are plenty of alterations that must be done, but that’s why we got Tracy Whitmore involved.”

“Tracy’s a wonderful seamstress,” Nadine said.

Sierra clasped her hands, leaning forward slightly. “It sounds like you have the costumes under control.” Her brain ticked to the next item. “How are you generating sales?”

They gave her blank stares.

She sighed. “How are you selling tickets?”

Landon smiled. “Oh, we do a lot of it through word-of-mouth and through our website.”

Sierra nodded. “Do you network with affiliates?”

More confused looks.

“People who get a commission off selling the tickets,” Sierra explained. “There are lots of tourist companies in South Carolina, which I’m sure would be happy to network with you. People would love to come to a quaint coastal town to watch an outdoor production.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Do you serve refreshments during the play? That would be another good source of revenue.”

“We’ve thought about it.” Bennie spread her hands in defeat. “But there are just so many other tasks that need completing that we haven’t gotten around to it.” Her voice dribbled off as nods went around the group.

“Who’s the best caterer or restaurant in town?” Sierra asked.

“Ivie Jane Compton,” Nadine said matter-of-factly. “Her restaurant’s by far the most popular in Sugar Pines.”

Sierra gasped like she’d been punched. A heat wave blasted through her as she looked at Bennie whose eyes had grown large. More had changed in Sugar Pines since she’d been gone than she realized. The Ivie Jane Sierra knew was a spoiled rich girl who couldn’t boil water, much less cater an event or run a restaurant. Then again, people probably thought the same thing about her—that she couldn’t make something of herself—which was a huge source of her frustration with Sugar Pines. And now she was judging Ivie Jane the same way. Her rational mind knew she should be over the thing with Ivie Jane by now, but her emotions had other ideas. It was crazy how fast the hurt feelings emerged, a wound that would never fully heal. The mere thought of Ivie Jane Compton churned acid in her gut.

“Um, I think we should consider someone else, considering the circumstance,” Bennie said.

Nadine nodded, her face going redder than her lipstick. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t think.” She looked at Bennie. “Well, it just happened so long ago that I thought it was over and done with by now.”

Some things would never be over and done with. Awkward situations like this were part of what prevented Sierra from coming home more often. In their younger years, Sierra and Ivie Jane had been inseparable, until that terrible day when everything changed. She looked around, realized everyone was staring at her. Sierra didn’t care to see Ivie Jane Compton again, much less do business with her. But making a big deal about it would only make the situation a thousand times worse. If she had any hope of moving beyond the past, then maybe she should take the first step. “You know what? It’s fine if you get Ivie Jane.”

Bennie studied her closely. “Really?”

She pushed a strained smile over her lips. “Absolutely. It would be better to use a local vendor to generate support from the townsfolk of Sugar Pines. The reason I brought it up is because it would be good to hire Ivie Jane, or someone like her, to run a deluxe concession stand. Then we can pitch it to tourist companies in Charleston as a dinner and play combo.”

Nadine brought her hands together. “That’s a splendid idea.”

Sierra gave Nadine a direct look. “Would you mind contacting Ivie Jane and see if we can work something out? The easiest way would be for Ivie Jane to pay us a commission on her proceeds … maybe thirty percent.”

“Sure, I’ll be happy to do that,” Nadine said eagerly. “What type of food are you thinking?”

“Appetizers, deli sandwiches, soups, some upscale desserts.” Sierra waved a hand. “That’s not really my department. Find out if Ivie Jane wants to do it and then ask her to submit a menu.”

Something about the conversation earlier was nagging at Sierra. Her mind went back to the worried look that passed between Bennie and Landon when she asked about the percentage of tickets they’d sold thus far. “We talked about what we’d bring in if we sold eighty percent of all tickets. On average, what is your typical sell rate for plays you’ve done in the past?”

There it was, that uncomfortable feeling that settled over the group.

Landon cleared his throat and looked at Bennie like he wasn’t sure how to answer. “Um, we sold about thirty percent when we did Newsies.”

Sierra’s heart lurched. She should’ve known those numbers were too good to be true. Hot prickles covered her and then she went cold. She wanted to flee back to New York—go back to her stable, predictable life. What was she even doing here? Did she really have it in her to save the mansion? Losing it was unthinkable, but orchestrating a play was way out of her comfort zone.

No, she couldn’t think this way. Marketing was her game. Given the right set of tools, Sierra was sure she could pack the seats. But they’d have to go outside of Sugar Pines to do it. “You said you’ve been selling the tickets through word of mouth and your website?”

“Yes,” Landon said.

“Okay, we’ll have to expand to reach our target. Let me see your website.” She’d left her computer in the van with her luggage. She looked at Bennie. “Do you have a laptop?”

Bennie wrinkled her nose like Sierra had asked her something distasteful. “You know I don’t, but the desktop’s still in the library though.”

That’s right. Bennie only used computers when she absolutely had to. Sierra had forgotten that little tidbit. She’d been gone from Sugar Pines longer than she’d realized. “I’ll just run out to the car and get my laptop. I mean, I could check it on my phone, but it’ll be easier on the computer. I’ll just need to know the name of your Internet account and get your password.”

Bennie chuckled. “Yeah, about that. I don’t have Internet.”

Sierra’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“I figured it’s one extra expense that I don’t need,” Bennie said.

It was all Sierra could do not to burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Bennie had put herself in hock to fund a stupid outdoor theater and didn’t have Internet because she didn’t want the expense. Who in the heck could even live without Internet these days? Her aunt, obviously.

Crapola! Sierra was planning on taking care of her agency work through the Internet. She had a lot to do to get ready for the meeting tomorrow morning. She’d have to use her phone as a hotspot, but that could be clunky, and it would use a ton of data. She sighed, feeling the weight of the world pressing on her. She threw up her hands, pinning Bennie with a look. “Is there any place in Sugar Pines that has Internet? Or is everyone here as behind the times as you?” The moment the words left Sierra’s mouth, she knew she’d made a huge mistake as a stunned silence froze over the group. Normally, she made a point of thinking before blurting the first thing that came to her mind, but she was tired and not thinking straight from all the stress.

Nadine’s jaw tightened as she gave Sierra a steely look. “What kind of half-baked question is that? I have Internet, which you’re welcome to come over and use anytime you need it. And you’ll be happy to know we traded in our outhouses for bathrooms … our horses and buggies for cars.”

Yikes! She’d stuck her foot so far down her throat this time that there was little hope of getting it out. Also, she’d offended the only person she was semi-friends with. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” She flashed an apologetic smile, which seemed to thaw some of the chill from the room. “It’s been a rough day,” she explained.

Bennie eyed her with concern. “What happened?”

“Nothing that needs to be discussed right now,” Sierra said evasively, flashing a wan smile. Everything was coming to a head, as emotion lodged thick in her throat. She swallowed, pushing it away, as she turned to Nadine. “Thanks for offering to let me use your Internet.” Hopefully, Nadine would accept her token of apology.

There was a frosty look in Nadine’s eyes as she nodded curtly. “You’re welcome.”

A feeling of complete desperation settled like a dense fog over Sierra. She’d managed to alienate the entire room in a matter of minutes. At this rate, she was bound to offend the whole blasted town by the end of the day. Sierra had no intention of hanging out at Nadine’s house, especially not now that there was friction between them. “I hate to be a burden on Nadine and Hal. Is there any place public? A coffee shop, maybe?”

“The library has Internet,” Landon said.

“Oh, I think Judy’s café has it too,” the man beside Landon said.

Sierra searched her brain, trying to remember the man’s name. She hated to ask him now and let him know she couldn’t remember. She’d have to ask Bennie later.

“Clydedale’s Pizza has it too,” Bennie said.

When Sierra drove by it downtown, she’d made a mental note to go there while she was in town. Now she had a good excuse. “What’s the name of your website?”

“Sugarpinestheater.com,” Landon said. “Would you like for me to write it down for you?”

“No, I think I can remember that.” She thought of something else. “What about the set design?” The set could eat away much of the profit, especially if it were too elaborate.

“I was overseeing the set design …” Bennie frowned, motioning to her knee “… until this.”

“Is there anyone else who can help?” Sierra asked.

They all had deer-in-the-headlights expressions as they looked at each other. Finally, Bennie shook her head remorsefully. “I don’t think so. Everyone’s pretty tied up with their responsibilities. I can still make phone calls to coordinate things.” Hope shone in her eyes as she looked at Sierra. “Maybe you could help? I’d need you to meet with the set builder on site to make sure everything’s going according to plan.”

Sierra made a face. “Me? But I don’t know the first thing about set design.” She shook her head. “I don’t know that I’ll have time to do that and work on the marketing.” Especially while trying to manage her job at same time.

She could feel disappointment from everyone in the room, as they sat as silently as stones, watching her. Sheesh. This was a tough crowd. She’d come here to help Bennie and save the mansion, not to get thrown into all this extra stuff.

“I’m here to help any way I can,” Bennie said.

“Okay,” Sierra said, knowing Bennie would keep on until she agreed.

Bennie smiled brightly. “Good. Hank Trenton was building the set, but then his wife got put on bed rest.” She shook her head, the corners of her mouth turning down. “Poor Mandy. She’s had a rough go of it this pregnancy. Anyway, we were fortunate to find another builder. He’s coming over this evening for dinner. You’ll have plenty of time to talk to him.”

“What?” Sierra’s face fell. The last thing she wanted to do was to entertain someone at dinner. And the kitchen was a freaking mess. Sierra would be mortified if anyone saw it, much less ate dinner there. It wasn’t like Bennie could get up and around, which meant she’d be doing the lion’s share of the cooking. “I don’t think dinner tonight’s a good idea,” she began. She looked at Bennie, trying to convey silently all that she didn’t want to say out loud with everyone here. “I was hoping the two of us could catch up.”

“Don’t worry. We will,” Bennie said smoothly. She cocked her head. “Normally, I’d just reschedule with the builder.”

“That’s a good idea,” Sierra inserted quickly.

Bennie pursed her lips. “But we’re way behind schedule. This dinner has been planned for a couple of weeks, mainly because the set builder’s so busy running his business that it was hard to find a time that worked for him.”

This just kept getting better and better! Trying to navigate Bennie was as impossible as pinning Jell-O to the wall. “Who’s the set builder?”

“Dalton Chandler’s been kind enough to donate his time,” Landon said.

Sierra coughed, clutching her throat. “W—what? Why’d you get him?” A noose had been placed around her neck the moment she drove into Sugar Pines, and it was getting tighter and tighter as the day wore on. “No!” she blurted. “You’ll have to get someone else! I won’t work with him.” She squared her jaw, ready to field any argument anyone could put forth.

Bennie tugged at her blouse, giving Sierra a frustrated look. “Dalton’s a great builder,” she blustered. “We’re lucky to have him.” She arched an eyebrow. “Regardless of your personal feelings on the subject.”

Heat blotched up Sierra’s neck. “This has nothing to do with my personal feelings,” she shot back. Then caught herself. She wouldn’t get into a tit for tat with Bennie over Dalton. Forcing her voice to sound calm, she pushed out the first thing that came to her mind. “I’m sure Dalton does a great job.” There. She’d defused the situation, told everyone what they wanted to hear.

Bennie brought her hands together. “Good. Then it’s all settled.”

No, it’s not settled … not by a long shot, Sierra’s mind screamed. She wasn’t about to work with Dalton on the set design.

No way. No how.

Was this some twisted game Bennie was playing to get her back together with Dalton? Surely not! Then again, she wouldn’t put anything past Bennie. She walked to the beat of her own drum … be it good or bad. Sierra had agreed to let Nadine ask Ivie Jane Compton to do the catering, but this was too much. She lifted her chin, eyeing them. “If you want to get Dalton to build the set, that’s your prerogative. But you’ll have to get someone other than me to work with him.”

The air got sucked out of the room in a big whoosh, then everyone got these uncomfortable, constipated looks … except for Bennie, who laughed lightly. “Oh, so you still do having feelings for Dalton.”

Sierra jerked. “No, I do not,” she huffed. Sheesh. Her stupid face was boiling hot.

Bennie wagged a finger, her eyes dancing with amusement as she put on a thick British accent. “Me thinks thou doth protest too loudly.”

Nadine half-sniggered, then placed a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound.

This whole situation was ludicrous. Sierra squared her jaw. “I have a boyfriend in New York. An influential, handsome boyfriend. His name’s Parker.” She glared at Bennie and Nadine. “Contrary to what you think, any feelings I had for Dalton Chandler are long gone.”

A faint amusement trickled into Bennie’s eyes. “If that’s actually true, then it won’t be a problem for you to work with Dalton. Now will it?”

Bennie had thrown down the gauntlet. “Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll work with him.” She gave Bennie a sharp look. “But don’t get any crazy ideas about trying to fix me up with Dalton because it’s not gonna happen.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Bennie said sweetly, then stopped. “You called Parker your boyfriend instead of your fiancé.”

Hot needles pelted Sierra. She’d not even thought to tell Bennie that Parker hadn’t proposed. She could feel all eyes zoned in on her like lasers, knew her face was flashing like a neon sign. “No, we’re not engaged,” she said nonchalantly. “We’ve got plenty of time.” She cringed at the look of relief in Bennie’s eyes.

Sierra’s phone buzzed. She leaned over and fished it out of her purse, which was resting on the floor by her feet. “Excuse me, I need to take this.” She flashed a saccharine smile. “It’s Parker.”

“Her influential, rich boyfriend,” Bennie added, a note of irony in her voice.

“Yes, that’s right,” Sierra said firmly, daring Bennie to say otherwise. “If you’ll excuse me.” She stood and walked into the other room for privacy. “Hey, babe,” she gushed loudly. “I’ve missed you so much.” She tensed at Parker’s surprised laugh.

“We just saw each other yesterday and spoke a couple of hours ago, but okay,” Parker said. “I’ll go with that. For what it’s worth, I miss you too.”

“I know. It feels like it has been forever,” Sierra said dreamily, then shot a scathing glare towards the parlor. Take that, Bennie!