Page 3 of California Waves

Mila crossed her arms. “No maybe about it. If you ever see him again, don’t pitch him, okay?”

Her tone was harsher than she’d intended, and Jay’s eyebrows shot up.

“Why does this matter so much to you?” he asked, curiosity entering his voice. “You don’t even know the man.”

Jay was right. Despite one conversation, she didn’t, but she wasn’t about to tell Jay, of all people, that she’d felt an instant connection when they’d met. She knew all about career-ending trauma and had picked up that she and Hersch had that in common. Instead, she said, “It just does. So drop it.” With the final word hers, she turned on her heel and marched away.

She watched Herschel Greenfield for a couple of minutes. He was gazing at paintings, but she could tell he wasn’t taking them in. Should she leave him be?

He might be an astronaut and a tad on the nerdy side, but she’d felt an incredible connection to him when she’d first set eyes on him. He wasn’t her usual type, with his short brown hair, moustache, and casual clothes that looked ironed. Now that she knew he was an astronaut, it all made sense.

She glanced at the high-end watch that she almost never took off. Time was important to Mila. She wanted to make the most of every minute, whether in her job as a Realtor or snatching a few more minutes to ride the waves on her surfboard.

She had things to do. She needed to get going. With a last glance at Herschel Greenfield, she turned away and headed to her next appointment—showing a house to people who were available only at six p.m. on a Thursday night. She tried to be philosophical. As a salesperson, she had to bend her schedule to accommodate her clients.

She’d slipped her card to Herschel Greenfield earlier. She really hoped he’d call. Even if he wasn’t in the market for a house, she still hoped he’d call.

Chapter Two

The kitchen at the Davenport family home was filled with sound. The family were known for affectionately talking at the same time, exchanging news and gossip, and sharing recipe pointers as they cooked up one of their famous breakfasts. Buster was hanging around the kitchen, hoping good things would fall on the floor, and depending on whether their mother, Betsy, was watching, a surprising number of bits of bacon or ham “accidentally” fell, where he licked them up with gusto.

Only their newest member—Tessa Taylor—remained her usual quiet and composed self.

Mila had put it down to her artistic and caring nature that Tessa was more introverted than the rest of the family. But now she considered it might also be a sign of a woman deeply in love. She seemed to be walking around in a happy, dreamlike bubble. Even now, while squeezing the oranges for fresh OJ, Tessa’s designated job for breakfast, she paused momentarily to admire the sparkle of her engagement ring. Arch certainly hadn’t held back on the diamond. It was a sumptuous teardrop on a platinum band. Elegant and understated, just like Tessa herself, but Mila knew it had cost more than most people’s annual salaries. She wondered if Tessa knew what he’d spent, but quickly figured no, she’d have been mortified. Unlike Arch, who had no qualms about treating himself to the finer things in life, Tessa was modest. She was used to being careful with money. She still thrifted some of her clothes, even though she had no need to.

The family tended to get together for breakfast at least once a month, usually on a weekend, or, like today, when somebody got everybody together. It was Arch who’d organized the Friday morning brunch. Mila set her own schedule, and everyone else had obviously made time. Erin sometimes worked weekends or nights at the Sea Shell weekly paper, so could take a morning off if she wanted to. Howie and Finn ran their own construction business. Nick worked when and where he felt like it, though he’d made so much money from his apps he didn’t have to work at all. Arch hadn’t yet started shooting his next film, Shock Tactics, and Damien was taking a break after his last tour. Betsy didn’t teach classes on Friday morning.

Seeing the glint of Tessa’s ring, Damien said, “I guess your wedding will be a media frenzy. No getting round it.”

Damien was the family musician. Rock star, to put it more accurately. He’d found fame early as a guitarist for a successful rock band who’d managed to make the charts with their catchy first hit. It was hard now to imagine Damien happier than he was when on the stage… with countless pretty women chanting his name. He wasn’t exactly a bad boy, but he was no saint either. He knew all about the downside of celebrity that went along with the fame and money.

“Arch promised Tessa a small wedding,” Erin piped up.

“Never going to happen,” Damien insisted.

“We have a plan,” Arch said in a shut-up-and-don’t-freak-out-my-future bride tone. “That’s why I wanted to have breakfast with you all this morning—to figure out the details.”

“Close friends and family only,” Tessa agreed, pouring the golden orange liquid into a huge ceramic jug and following the rest of the family into the dining room. “Speaking of which,” she continued, setting the jug on the table, “there’s something I wanted to ask you two.”

She looked at Mila and Erin with a happy grin as she took her seat next to Arch. “I was hoping you would be my bridesmaids.”

“I’d be honored,” Mila said quickly, feeling suddenly choked with emotion. She was no romantic—far from it—but the thought of taking such a special role in Tessa and Arch’s wedding touched the most tender part of her.

Erin clapped her hands together, a look of pure joy on her face. “Me too,” she said.

The three of them grasped hands across the table.

“Thank you,” Tessa said quietly. “You two already feel like sisters to me.”

Her mom set down a plate of her famous French toast and beamed. “And I’m so happy to have another daughter join our family.”

“Hear, hear,” their father, Howie, agreed. He passed a platter of his famous omelet, already cut into neat slices, around the table.

“I was thinking we could ask Margaret Percy to give a reading,” Arch suggested, helping himself to two slices.

“What a great idea,” Betsy said. “She did introduce the two of you, after all.”

Nick reached for toast. “When are you going to ask me to be your best man?” He looked over at Arch. “I’m the oldest—obviously it should be me.”

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