Page 46 of Promised Love

My eyebrow arches. “I never read about any boyfriends in your emails.”

“Because there…” she starts, but then pauses. “That wasn’t something we talked about.”

I give her a long look, wondering if, in her mind, we’re those same two people. To me, we feel like two brand-new people.

But thank God I didn’t say that, because whatever it feels like to my wacky brain, we’re Lukas Spencer and Autumn Smith—two strangers who were forced together, even though this no longer feels forced.

I notice her iPad and a thin binder she placed on the table before taking a seat.

“What’s that?” I ask, changing the direction of our conversation.

Autumn’s gaze, still nervous, follows mine. Her rosy cheeks immediately pale a little, urging my footsteps back to my seat.

“Are you sure about joining me with Maddy?”

When I nod, she turns on the screen. “This is the plan. They’ll arrive around lunchtime.”

Autumn shows me her list of activities she has scheduled. Showing them around. Food. Cake tasting. I try to focus on her every word, but the intoxicating smell of orchids and sandalwood, which I now know is her perfume from the pink glass bottle with a gold lid, distracts me.

“What do you think?” she asks, closing the PowerPoint she prepared.

“It’s…amazing.” My chest swells with pride. “You love this place,” I say in awe, even when I know The Butterfly Inn isn’t just a place of work for her. But her commitment shows in the way she’s arranged every fine detail, and that’s why I’m nervous for my next words. “But…can I suggest…something?”

“Lukas, I’d love to hear your advice. That’s why I showed you the plan.”

“Don’t take them out for lunch. Instead, do it here. You have a great chef, and this’ll give you a chance to show them what more you have to offer. Have Suzie prepare what she makes best or whatever your guests like. I guess it won’t be difficult to find out some of our celebrities’ favorites.”

Autumn smiles and shows me an Excel sheet listing the couple’s likes and dislikes, and it slips a little when she adds, “But I think they’re only interested in the venue. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already booked some Michelin-star chef from Europe.”

“It’s okay if that’s the case. We’re already going with fewer expectations. We’ll just show them what we have to offer and let them decide from there.” When I look up from the screen, there’s a smile on her face. “What?”

“You said we.”

“I meant—”

“I like it,” she replies quickly. “Possibly for the first time, there’s someone by my side who won’t be grading me or is scared that I might fail. I like that you believe in me,” she whispers.

15

AUTUMN

I fidget nervously as Lukas, Mr. Big, Chiara, and I all stand on the porch, waiting for our special guests. The news of their arrival is mostly a secret, known to only a handful of people.

“Relax, Autumn.” Lukas places his hand on my shoulder, and that simple contact has my pulse quickening.

But I don’t get more than two seconds to absorb the feel of his warmth before it’s pulled away with the same speed with which it touched me.

I don’t get a chance to look at his face to judge if he felt the same crackle of electricity, because a car with black-tinted windows pulls over, and a new unease rushes over me.

Mr. Big jumps into action and opens the door.

He’s soon followed by Lukas, who, as promised, is here with me.

“He’s hot!” Chiara whispers when Andy Bruno steps out of the car, dressed in black jeans and a gray high-neck pullover.

“He’s engaged, Chi!”

“That doesn’t make him any less irresistible. Tell me he doesn’t look hot to you.”

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