Page 13 of California Waves

The two hours flew by, and then she was packing up. Already, her thoughts were moving ahead to showing Herschel the recently available house. It was something special—she just knew it.

The students had all dispersed and she was hanging up the last wetsuit when somebody called her name. She turned to find Arch standing there in a ball cap and sunglasses, about as much of a disguise as he bothered with when he was in Carmel.

She was always pleased to see her big brother and gave him a hug, but when she drew back, he removed his sunglasses, and she saw his expression was serious.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Has something happened?”

“I’m worried about Tessa.”

Alarm sluiced through her. She adored her soon-to-be sister-in-law and already felt protective of her, as if they had actually grown up together. “What is it?” she asked. “Is she sick?”

Arch quickly reassured her that Tessa was fine. Then he slumped against the van. “The thing is, she’s insisting on getting her wedding dress from a thrift store.”

Mila burst into laughter. Surely Arch wasn’t actually upset about something so trivial? But she could see he was serious, so instead of teasing him as she was dying to do, she stopped laughing and hid her amusement. “Arch, that’s just who Tessa is. That’s what you love about her. She takes real pride in finding treasures at thrift stores. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know that. And I don’t want to sound like a complete jerk, but I’m Archer Davenport. Can you imagine the field day they’d have online if my bride turned up to her wedding in a used dress? They’d talk trash about Tessa. I mean, what if the original bride spotted it? She’d make a killing in the tabloids, and I’d be the butt of every joke told by late-night talk-show hosts.”

Mila swallowed down the urge to make a few jokes of her own. She got it, even though she personally quite liked the idea of a thrifted wedding dress. It wasn’t like it was going to get a lot of use, so why not buy one that had already walked down the aisle? However, she could see Arch’s point that Tessa and he might be ridiculed online and in the press, and that would put a shadow on their happy day.

“Why not look at it this way?” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe if a picture of an A-list celebrity’s bride in a thrift-store dress did go viral, then more brides would get secondhand dresses and help save the planet, one wedding dress at a time.”

Arch raised his eyebrows. Clearly, he didn’t want a speech about the three Rs—reduce, reuse, and recycle—so she said, “I’ll talk to her and see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I need to divert a disaster.”

At that, Mila huffed out a sigh. “Do I have to remind you that Tessa is stubborn and opinionated? A little bit like somebody else I know? A big reason she is so special to you is because she isn’t like every other woman who might want you to buy her a bespoke wedding dress in Paris from Dior. Isn’t that a good thing?”

Arch seemed to soften and pulled his sister in for a one-armed hug. “I’m marrying Tessa because not only is she not like any other woman I’ve ever met, but she’s exactly right for me. So yeah, I’ll take stubborn and opinionated, and I’ll deal with it if she wants to get half her wardrobe at thrift stores. You’re right. It’s part of what I love about her. But, just for this one shindig, could you talk to her about getting something nice from a designer? It would mean a lot to me. It would mean a lot to Jay. It would mean a lot to my career.”

Mila relented. “Okay, I’m on it. The Davenport women are meeting with Tessa tomorrow to do some wedding planning. I’ll talk to her then.” She checked her watch. Argh, she wasn’t going to have time to shower before meeting Hersch. “But right now I have to run.”

“Hot date?” he asked with typical big-brother curiosity.

She grinned at him. “Not exactly. I’m hoping to sell a house to an astronaut.”

“Not a sentence you hear every day,” Arch said, shaking his head. Then he looked at her. “I’m assuming you mean Herschel Greenfield. You sure it’s not a date? Jay told me there was some serious chemistry between you two.”

She fired up at that. “Jay Malone was doing his best to bully Herschel Greenfield into making this biopic about his life—starring you, I might add.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “I don’t think it was chemistry that he picked up on so much as a united front against his terrible movie idea.”

Arch threw his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it. And I’m sorry to hear you still think that about this project. I think it sounds interesting. A story that could really inspire people.”

“It would be a fantastic movie, and I’m sure that with your name attached, it would be greenlit. But if Herschel Greenfield doesn’t want to see his most painful moments on the big screen, shouldn’t we respect that?”

Archer pushed away from the side of Mila’s van. “Well, you and I might, but Jay Malone? He’s another story.”

Chapter Seven

Once more, Mila found herself running home to make the quick transformation from surfing Mila to successful Realtor Mila. Still irritated she wasn’t going to have time to shower, she washed her face, slipped back into the linen trousers and sweater she’d worn earlier, tucked her salty hair into a messy bun, and put on some expensive moisturizer to condition her skin.

As she slicked a little gloss over her lips, she thought about what Arch had said. She was surprised that Jay Malone had mentioned to Archer the chemistry between her and Herschel. She’d never thought of Jay as that observant, especially not when he was in the middle of pitching a project. She’d done her best to knock that idea into the long grass, but he’d noticed more than she’d have liked a nosy agent to see.

She had absolutely felt that chemistry too. And, as she jumped back into her car and headed to the hotel to pick up her newest client, she was all too aware of the little spurt of excitement in her belly at the prospect of seeing the most attractive man she’d met in a long time. Some clients were better than others, but she rarely felt this excited about taking one to look at a few houses.

Since Mila was a woman who was always aware of time, she noted with approval that Herschel was waiting outside his hotel when she pulled up. He got points for that. He also got points for the cute chinos that bore the crease of an iron and a crisp short-sleeved blue shirt that showed off his seriously impressive arm muscles. He’d made an effort, and it wasn’t going unnoticed. He smelled good, too, she noted as he got into the passenger seat, and he had a leather folder and pen with him. He was taking this seriously, which she appreciated.

“Hello,” he said as he shut the door and carefully clicked his seat belt.

“It’s good to see you again,” she replied, trying to hide as best as she could just how good it felt. “I’ve got three homes I want to show you today.” Promising herself to remain professional, she gave him her standard spiel about how today was really just about getting a feel for his likes and dislikes and giving him an idea of the market. She never liked people to think she could find them a house in one day, even though she sometimes could. He nodded and smiled at her, and she felt her stomach flip again. He really was dreamy.