Chapter
TWO
Noise masquerading as music thumped against Mia’s ears. She squeezed closer to Susan to make room for Anne at the table that was about the size of a quarter and covered with a mysterious sticky substance.
“This place is smaller than I thought,” Susan yelled above the screech of the band.
“And more crowded,” Mia agreed, though she suspected the jam-packed crowd was due to the two-dollar beers rather than the atmosphere.
“Hi, ladies.” A young man with curly brown hair approached. His tie was askew against his wrinkled shirt. “Fancy seeing you all here.”
“Danny!” Anne pushed closer to Mia to make a space for him to sit. “Come on and join us.”
He sat, thumping his pint of ale on the table and nearly knocking over Susan’s margarita. Mia caught the glass and pushed it back on the table.
“Sorry.” Danny grinned at her, his eyes sparkling. “You look especially lovely tonight, Mia.”
Susan elbowed her in the side and wiggled her eyebrows none too discreetly. Mia returned Danny’s smile. They’d frequented the same bars over the past few months, but hadn’t yet socialized beyond that. He was the kind of boy she’d always liked—cute and engaging with a ready smile. A recent grad of San Francisco State, he was also in a similar “what next?” stage of life as she was, so they had a lot to commiserate about.
“Any luck with the job search?” she asked.
“Applied at a new upstart in San Jose.” He tilted his head back for a swallow of beer. “You?”
Mia shook her head. “Planning Luke and Polly’s wedding has taken up so much time that I haven’t been able to job hunt much. I’ll have to start soon, though.”
She wasn’t looking forward to it, either. She was bound to feel a little dispirited after the wedding was over and Polly no longer needed her help. She’d offered to help cover shifts at Wild Child when Polly and Luke were on their honeymoon, but that would only last so long.
“Hey, I have some leads you might be interested in,” Danny remarked. “Or you could totally get into modeling or acting.”
She lifted her eyebrows in a “really?” look, which he responded to with an abashed smile.
“Sorry.” He took a swig of the ale. “I lay it on thick when I get nervous around a beautiful girl. But you could totally be a model,” he added hastily. “I mean that sincerely.”
“Thank you.” Mia shifted to try and escape Susan’s persistent elbow nudges. “Sincerely.”
She glanced at her watch. Any other night, she might have suggested they all head to a different bar—one without sticky tables and watered-down drinks—but she had to work the following day and there was still so much to do for the wedding.
“I’m going to head out.” She picked up her purse and squeezed out of the chair. “I have stuff I should finish up at home. Everyone, have a good evening.”
A chorus of goodbyes followed her as she headed out to her car. Usually being out with her friends eased her growing uncertainty about her life, but tonight she felt worse. Five years from now, would she still be working at the insurance agency, watching the clock until she could leave at five and head directly to happy hour in a dank, crowded bar?
She didn’t want a life like that. It was painfully close to the one her parents had lived, except they’d never even enjoyed happy hour. They’d had dead-end jobs, tedious routines, and a stale marriage held together by sheer inertia.
Granny hadn’t wanted Mia to live that kind of life either, encouraging her to “follow her heart” and “create beauty” when her parents had dictated that she become a business or economics major.
She’d seized her grandmother’s advice with both hands, determined to burst through life in a shower of glitter and sparkles. Too late, she’d discovered that glitter and sparkles didn’t pay the bills. And she had yet to find any jobs seeking applicants who were “good at following your heart” or “excellent beauty creator.”
After returning to her apartment, Mia showered, painted her toenails a shiny purple, and watched the Miracle Max scene from The Princess Bride because “to blave” always made her smile. She was just getting herself a bowl of ice cream when a knock came at the door.
She set the bowl on the kitchen counter and went to peer through the peephole. Her heart jumped. Gavin Knight stood on the doorstep. She tightened the belt of her bathrobe and yanked open the door.
She ignored the way her pulse sped up at the sight of him—all big and masculine with his steel briefcase and square-jawed, implacable expression. His wire-rimmed glasses softened the hard lines of his face only slightly, giving him a Clark Kentish vibe that appealed to all the parts of her that loved secrets and alter egos. Not to mention nerdy superheroes.
Reminding herself of all the times he’d ignored her, she hardened her still-simmering attraction to him. “Yes?”
Gavin’s blue gaze skittered over her floral cotton robe, as if he hadn’t expected to see her undressed. It was eleven p.m., for God’s sake. What had he expected?
“Yes?” she repeated.
“I apologize for bothering you,” he said. “I left the office later than I expected. I need the wedding plans. You didn’t email them to me.”
“I don’t have them online,” Mia replied. “Polly and I have all the plans in binders and folders. Which you are absolutely not taking from me.”
“Then I’ll review them now and make copies tomorrow.”
His voice was implacable, like he had no intention of moving from her doorstep until he’d gotten what he came for.
“I’m sorry,” she said sharply. “But I’m busy at the moment.”
“I’ll wait.”
Good god, he was serious. He planted his feet apart, his shoulders squaring. He didn’t move closer to her, remaining a good distance away as if he didn’t want to threaten or scare her with his imposing presence.
Not that he would have. She’d been irritated with him for ignoring her flirtations, and now she was getting downright mad over his persistence about the wedding, but he radiated a strong, protective authority that she’d liked so much from the moment he’d first walked into Wild Child. She could never be scared of him.
She could, however, be peevish with him.
“Come in, then.” With a huff, she stepped aside, pulling the door open wider. “The sooner we get this over with, the better.”
He entered and cast a quick, assessing glance around at her French Country décor with the vases of dried flowers, vintage floral chairs, distressed bookshelves, and the comfy, sky-blue sofa laden with heart-shaped pillows and stuffed animals.
Not that he was looking at the actual furnishings, of course. Probably he was looking for possible security issues like a broken window lock or a lurking Kryptonite-powered supervillain.
“Well, sit down,” Mia ordered inhospitably, gesturing to the white farmhouse table in the kitchen.
He sat, his big frame and black shirt incongruous in the feminine surroundings. He removed his laptop from the briefcase and set it on the table. Mia collected an armful of binders from the bookshelf. Each one represented months of hard work and research they’d done to ensure Polly had the wedding of her dreams.
She started toward the table when Gavin pushed his chair back and stood. She paused, somewhat taken aback by how much room he took up in her little kitchen.
He retrieved her abandoned bowl of ice cream from the counter, set it at the place across from him, and sat back down.
What…?
“You’d better eat that before it melts,” he remarked mildly.
Mia shook off a silly sense of pleasure over the gesture. It had to be professional instinct that compelled him to notice little things like that. Being perceptive and observant were probably the top qualities required in a security operative.
She was just surprised that he’d noticed her ice cream considering he’d barely ever noticed her.
She plunked the binders down one by one on the table.
“This one is for budgeting and receipts. This one is for gown and bridesmaid dress samples, and pictures of different hairstyles. This one is wedding guests, invitations, and seating charts. This one is for caterers, musicians, and photographers. This one is the timeline for the ceremony, and the schedule of events. This one was supposed to be for the honeymoon, but Luke wanted it to be a surprise for Polly so he’s doing all the planning. So I’m using this binder for Polly’s packing list and the Wild Child schedule, so she doesn’t have to worry about the bakery while she’s away.”
Gavin eyed the multiple binders. Mia couldn’t tell if he was impressed with her organizational skills or if he thought she’d gone way over the top. Not that she cared what he thought, anyway.
She sat down and picked up the bowl of ice cream. The hostess in her wanted to offer him something to eat or drink, but given the way he’d barged in here at this hour and without advance warning… he didn’t deserve her hospitality. Or her ice cream. Or her.
She ate a spoonful of ice cream and watched him open the first binder. His strong features were set with serious concentration, though up close the wire-rimmed glasses softened the hard lines of his face a bit. He wrote something on a legal pad, his penmanship compact and precise. She liked the way he held his pen, close to the point with a firm grip.
Her belly fluttered, even as she groaned inwardly. Despite trying to steel herself against him, everything about Gavin Knight still made her go all warm and melty inside. She’d thought her attraction to him was based on the fact that he was one of the few men who hadn’t fallen for her charms—but over the months she’d realized it was more than that. She liked his strength, his dedication, the loyalty he commanded from his team of security operatives.
Of course, she didn’t like his immunity to her, which was the reason she had to stop flirting with him. A girl had to know when to quit, after all.
“I’m reevaluating the existing plans.” He unfolded a piece of paper and spread it out on the table between them. “This is a diagram of the villa and surrounding grounds.”
Mia leaned forward to look at the map of the sprawling villa where the wedding would be held before the guests moved to the reception hall. Red and blue lines indicated the guest route and parking areas.
“What are the circles around the grounds?” she asked.
“I’ve implemented three rings of security around the perimeter of the venue.” Gavin pointed to the largest circle. “Outer, middle, and interior. The interior is the tightest.”
“I would hope so.” Her voice came out husky.
Oh, Mia. So much for not flirting.