Page 11 of The Runaway Bride's Vow

A new beginning.

Things were going to work out today.

Brooke rolled down the window of her silver hatchback. Some day she dreamed of getting a convertible like her boss, who owned a pink one. Okay. So maybe she didn’t want a pink car, even if it was part of the name of the company she worked for. She could only take so much pink. As an accent color, it was perfect. She had a pink pin she wore to work every day with the company logo.

She was partial to purple, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. If she had to wear pink the rest of her life, she’d do it to keep this job. And that was saying a lot, but she loved her boss. Clara was so easy to work for—some of the bridezillas they dealt with could be a challenge, but luckily, they were few and far between. They were usually able to spot them at the preliminary meeting. Upon this sort of realization, their schedules would suddenly fill up. The truth of the matter was that most brides were a delight to work with; otherwise, she wouldn’t want so desperately to keep her job.

Brooke smiled as she drove along. She loved being in California. It was so far away from Iowa with its acres and acres of corn fields, not to mention the heat, no make that its sweltering summer heat and its downright frigid winters.

She’d always longed to be near the water. Her family occasionally took vacations at the lake north of their place. There was something so relaxing about being there. She loved to swim and to go boating.

There was a part of her that had longed to be on the coast. She’d wanted to feel the sand between her toes and listed to the lull of the water lapping against the shore.

Someday, if she were lucky, she would be able to buy a house that looked out over the ocean—to see it in the morning from her balcony and be able to walk out her door and down the beach. Okay, so maybe that was just a fantasy because there was no way she would be able to afford a beachfront home, but a girl had to have her dreams, right? Still, her grandmother had always told her that you couldn’t strive for something that you couldn’t dream of.

Her boss had just purchased the Seabreeze Wedding Chapel. It was going to be so amazing, just as soon as it had a few touchups. And the very first wedding was going to be her boss’s wedding.

She guided her car southbound out of the city. The sun was shining, and it was going to be a gorgeous day. She turned up the radio to hear the country music over the rush of air coming in through the open windows.

She just had to keep the business on track and handle the renovation. That sounded doable, right? No big deal. Easy-peasy. Or rather it would be if it wasn’t for the grumpy contractor who bailed on their meeting with no explanation.

After yesterday, she had real doubts about the man. Why in the world had Clara hired this guy? Sure, he was good-looking, but that wasn’t going to get the work done. And it appeared his priority wasn’t focused on the chapel. That had to change today, or she would be forced to recommend that Clara fire the man and hire a new contractor.

With that thought in mind, Brooke pressed harder on the accelerator. Her thoughts focused on Logan what’s-his-name. He was either taking her coffee and then spilling it all over both of them, or he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She wondered if he would even show up today for work.

And if he didn’t, firing him would be the easy part. It was finding someone else to take the job that would be the challenge. The waiting time for a contractor these days was months long.

Buzz-buzz.

She glanced down at the caller ID on the dash display. Ugh! It was Clara. What was she supposed to say to her? That she had the worst taste in contractors?

Hmm… Maybe not when it came to his looks because he was very good-looking. He’d be even better looking if he didn’t always have that scowl on his face. Perhaps she’d keep that part to herself.

As her phone continued to ring over the car’s speaker system, she realized she couldn’t just ignore Clara’s call. It would only make her friend anxious, and Clara was supposed to be back in Washington D.C., enjoying her vacation and focusing on her reconciliation with her family.

Brooke swallowed hard as she pressed the button on the steering wheel. “Hi. How are things going?”

“It’s been great. Not to say there weren’t some tense moments, especially with my father. But I think we’re getting past all of that now. My parents have even agreed to fly out to California for our wedding.”

“That’s great!” No, it wasn’t. Not if there wasn’t a renovated chapel for them to get married in. Brooke attempted to sound upbeat. “I’m so happy for you. I know you really want your father to walk you down the aisle.”

“I do. And he already agreed. It’s going to be the perfect wedding in the perfect chapel. So how are things going there?”

Terrible. “Really good. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Worry about?” Clara’s voice took on a worried tone. “Brooke, is something wrong?”

She inwardly groaned. What was wrong with her? What had possessed her to use that particular wording?

She pulled to a stop at a red light. “No. There’s nothing wrong. I would have called you if there was a problem.”

“Are you sure?” There was a hesitation in her voice.

“Of course.” She hoped her voice sounded authentic.

There was a strained pause. “Okay. I guess I’m just so happy that I’m worried something is going to come along to ruin everything.”

Now Brooke felt even worse about her clash with Logan—even if he was the most difficult man she’d ever met. Still, she couldn’t let her friend’s wedding plans crash and burn, especially after all Clara and Andrew had gone through to end up together. This wedding was going to happen, even if she had to fix up the chapel on her own. Hysterical laughter bubbled up in the back of her throat at the thought of her wielding a hammer or saw.

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