Page 6 of Beachside Kisses With My Enemy

She waves to me, a wide grin splitting her lovely face, her perfect blonde curls bouncing. “Evening!” Her British-like accent is as charming as the way she leans in to offer me a kiss on the cheek by way of greeting. “Do you have a moment to chat?”

“For you? Duh.” I link my arm through hers and make eye contact with Sam, who nods. She’s got things covered out here.

We walk down the hall to Winona’s tiny office, which I’ve taken over for the time being. My boss would probably faint at the messy pile of papers—fine, piles, plural—on the desk and the three empty coffee mugs I haven’t had the chance to return to the kitchen. But I’m of the opinion that what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Chloe’s absolutely stunning in a red jumper-pantsuit-thingy, and despite all the royal pomp she grew up with, she doesn’t bat an eye when I have to move my old ratty backpack from the chair on this side of the desk so she can sit down.

Instead of going around to the other side, I push aside a few restaurant magazines and sit on the edge of the desk, facing her. “What’s up?”

Chloe and I have only known each other for a few months—since she escaped to Hallmark Beach in the middle of March so she could plan a secret wedding for her princely brother and his bride—but I feel like she’s been my friend my entire life. Then again, this whole town has embraced her as one of their own, and I don’t blame them one bit. When she decided to stay and take over Rhonda Howard’s wedding and events shop, Something Blue, I cried happy tears.

She taps her manicured nails on the arm of the wooden chair. “Alberta Jenkins informed me today that Rhonda was supposed to be in charge of the town’s Independence Day festival. And now that I’ve purchased her store and she’s moved away, apparently it’s on me.”

I whistle. “Yikes.” That Alberta Jenkins—owner of Al’s Grocery and the head of our town council—sure knows how to drop a bomb. “Has anything been done yet?”

“Apparently the very basics. A fireworks vendor was booked a year ago, and the council has booked a few musical groups to play during the netball tourney.”

“Netball? You mean volleyball?”

“Right, yes. Anyway, I’m glad at least those things have been accomplished, given the fact the holiday is only little more than six weeks away.” Chloe gets up and begins to pace, kind of a difficult thing since this office is so small. “But doesn’t Alberta realize what she’s asking?”

“Maybe she doesn’t think it’s a big deal,” I say. “After all, you did plan Topher and Lauren’s wedding in like ten days.”

“Yes, but weddings are my specialty. Also, I had help.” She pauses, grips the back of the chair as if to steady herself. “Which is why I’m here. I know you’re very busy with your new responsibilities, and you just moved into Marilee’s house a few weeks ago and probably have loads of unpacking and organizing to do, but?—”

“Chloe, of course I’ll help you.” Does she really think I wouldn’t? Besides, even though I lived with Uncle Burt and Aunt Bea since Mama left me here in high school so she could travel the world and have her own adventures with my stepdad Kevin, I brought surprisingly little with me. And I haven’t gathered much else in the years since. Clothes, a few mementos, pictures. There wasn’t much to unpack.

What can I say? I’m a simple girl.

My friend slumps forward. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that. Once I tell others you’re on board, they’re sure to follow.”

“I don’t know about that.” I wrinkle my nose, because I’m no leader. And I’m okay with that, actually. Being in charge makes it far harder to go with the flow, which is my natural state.

“Well, I do. I’m planning to hit up all the local business owners, as well as our friends.” And by that, I assume she means Kelsey and Elisse Loveland, my cousin April Reynolds, and Marilee Moffitt, my best friend and new housemate. I moved into her family’s three-bedroom house two weeks ago, after her former tenants left to get their own apartment together.

“Great idea. Just let me know what you need me to do.”

“I’m thinking I’ll put you on the food committee. Apparently there’s a town-wide picnic every year on the beach?” Chloe waves her hand. “I’ll fill you in on the details. For now, just be at the first meeting on Sunday afternoon.”

“You got it.” I take in the natural glow of Chloe’s skin but don’t miss the circles under her eyes. They’re only barely visible thanks to her expertly applied makeup, but I still see them. Perhaps she’s just tired from all she’s had going on, but I’d better check anyway. “You doing okay otherwise? Business all good? Freddy?”

She smiles, probably because I mentioned two of her favorite subjects. “I finally got all of the paperwork completed for Something Blue, so that’s brilliant. And Freddy…” Chloe sighs, and I imagine her as a cartoon character with hearts in her eyes and doves circling her head. She moves around the chair and reaches for my hand, squeezing. “If only I could find such a wonderful man for each of my friends.”

Oh, Chloe. She’s a matchmaker at heart, but I’m afraid she’ll be pretty disappointed in my prospects. Hallmark Beach is a tiny town, after all. “That’s sweet, but I fully expect to settle for being the cool aunt who buys your kids all the annoying toys and goes home to her dogs. Or maybe I’ll be the weird bird lady on the block.”

The words roll off my tongue with ease. I won’t let myself be bothered at the prospect of being alone forever. What good would that attitude do me?

Besides, being alone forever is better than having my heart broken like Mama’s when Daddy died. Like my little teenage heart when Blake left for college and came home the next summer a different person—one who acted like we were never even friends. Like he barely knew me.

Nope. Alone is definitely better.

Chloe wags a finger at me. “Your time’s coming, Miss Lucy Reynolds. I can feel it.”

I smile and pretend it isn’t forced. “You must know something I don’t. Are you planning to conjure up my perfect man?”

Impossible. He’s not here anymore.

Argh, stupid subconscious. He’s not anywhere, because he wasn’t who you thought he was, I argue back.

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