Page 1 of Knight's Desire

Chapter One

The rich aroma of percolating dark roast coffee roused Hope Robertson from a sound sleep. She breathed deeply as the last remnants of slumber faded. With a fling of her arm, she tossed the bedcovers to the side and rose. Her long, narrow feet settled on the floor, and she stood to her full five feet, seven inches. Her gown had twisted around her torso as she slept, so she took a moment to straighten the silky material before stepping into her adjoining bathroom.

Her morning ritual remained the same from day-to-day whether she reported to work or not. The only difference was the time she rose from bed, but the routine never changed. Empty her bladder. Brush her teeth. Take a shower. Apply moisturizer from head to toe. Dry her hair into shiny, soft waves. Put on simple, understated make-up. The one difference she allowed herself was in how she wore her hair. Today, she brushed the strands into a tight French twist.

For days she worked, she even followed a routine with dressing. Undergarments that were both pretty and comfortable. An all-black outfit tailored to fit her curves. Today she chose a sheath dress with a scalloped neckline and mid-calf hemline. She completed the outfit with her favorite black pumps, a silver statement necklace and matching stud earrings.

From start to finish, her routine lasted an hour and twenty minutes, giving her enough time to enjoy breakfast before heading out the door with a full travel mug of coffee, complete with enough cream and sugar added to tantalize her taste buds. Her siblings called her predictability boring. She called it efficient. If her life ran on a routine, her creative energy had room to breathe.

She sang along with her playlist as she drove the fifteen minutes to work. She parked in an open spot along the side of the building and sat with her car switched off. Her eyes took in the gun-metal-gray block walls with bright white trim, the lovely evergreen shrubbery circling the building and the large pane windows that allowed sunshine to filter in and window shoppers to look at the merchandise on display. Her breath caught in her throat as it did each morning when she followed the same ritual.

Hers.Her mind focused on the word, her chest swelling with pride. The structure was one step in making her dream come true, but it was a big step. She worked multiple jobs, cut coupons, and shopped thrift stores so she could live on a miniscule budget and save every spare penny. All to reach this point in her career, and she never wanted a day to go by when she didn’t stop to appreciate the opportunities afforded her.

She stepped from the car with her coffee and purse in hand and walked around the corner. A slight smile curved her lips as she read the bold white lettering etched in the dark exterior.Hope’s Bridal Shoppe.She unlocked the door only to lock it back once she was inside. Not bothering with the lights, she strode through the Shoppe, her heels clicking on the tile floor. She breathed in the scents of furniture polish, fresh linen air freshener, and…cologne?

Hope almost lost her footing as she stopped and then turned in a circle, scanning what she could see of the Shoppe from her spot in the vestibule. The waiting area with the curved receptionist desk, the two salons with comfortable seating, and the racks of garments were just as she left them the evening before. She had been the last to leave, as she was most evenings, but she had a cleaning company to come in after closing to keep the Shoppe looking pristine. She’d met the custodial staff the company sent, and she doubted the two women wore the sandalwood fragrance she detected in the air.

She lingered a moment longer. Deciding the heavy fragrance was probably a new room freshener the cleaning crew was trying, she made a mental note to speak to them about it before continuing to cross the room into her office. She secured her belongings in her desk, set her Bluetooth radio to play jazz music, and then settled at her drafting table.

The idea that had been nagging at her was finally released. Her fingers drew the graphite pencil across the sketch pad, adding certain touches until it resembled a whimsical dress unlike anything she’d designed before. When she finished, she peered at the sketch with a critical eye before adding and erasing elements that subtly changed the concept. Something about the design felt off, but she was saved from overanalyzing the sketch by the ringing of the Shoppe’s landline.

She glared at the offending phone for another ring. Only one person would be calling this soon before the boutique opened, and she considered not answering out of spite. She finally picked up the receiver, slipping effortlessly into her courteous boutique owner persona.

“Hope’s Bridal Shoppe. How may I help you today?”

“Hope, I’m glad you answered. Tally just told me she placed an order for her reception dress yesterday. There’s been a mistake. You have to cancel that order right away. I can’t believe she paid the deposit without asking me first. I swear that girl can’t be left to her own devices. It’s no wonder this wedding planning is such a circus.”

“Mrs. O’Leary, how wonderful to hear from you. Your daughter did place a nonrefundable deposit on the two-piece, ivory crepe dress that she tried on in the store and both of you fell in love with. I placed the order with the designer yesterday.”

“Oh, Hope, I did not fall in love with that awful dress. I just didn’t want to hurt Tally’s feelings or insult your cute little store. That dress is not appropriate for a wedding or even a reception. You need to cancel that order right away. We’ll be in this afternoon, and I’ll choose another gown for her.”

Hope pinched the bridge of her nose as a headache emerged behind her eyes. She knew the importance of customer service, but Ellen O’Leary tried her patience. The woman treated Hope and her assistant, Kayla, like they were her personal servants. Hope could understand why her daughter Tally rebelled at every opportunity.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any open appointments this afternoon. I will call the designer, but there may be a cancellation fee involved if they have already started processing the order.”

“Why would they charge a fee? You just placed the order yesterday. We all know designers don’t work that fast. If you run into problems, just let me know when I come by this afternoon. I have contacts I can call who can take care of things if you can’t get this done.”

“Mrs. O’Leary, fees are necessary to cover any labor or materials that are wasted because of cancellations. And I’m sorry, but we don’t have any open appointments for today. I can check the schedule for tomorrow.”

“Oh, no! We can’t come tomorrow. We are interviewing caterers. You’ll have to cancel one of the other bookings and fit us in this afternoon.”

“I can’t do that. If we have a cancellation, I’ll give you a call, but otherwise I can’t make you an appointment for today. If you will have Tally call me confirming the cancellation, I’ll take care of the order with the designer. You can check your schedules and let me know another time that will work for both of you to come by and pick out a reception dress for Tally.”

“Are you trying to be difficult? Tally convinced me that going with a small bridal boutique would provide us with a more personalized experience than getting her dresses at a New York boutique. I’m beginning to think we made a mistake.”

“I only want for Tally’s wedding day to be just as perfect as she wants it to be. If she believes finding her dress with us is a mistake, then I hope she’s able to find the perfect dress at another boutique. Before I can process the cancellation on her reception dress, I need Tally to confirm it since she’s the one who paid the deposit. I’m sure you can understand how policies and procedures work for even a small business since your family has run a successful business for years.”

The O’Leary family operated a chain of retail stores throughout the country, so technically the success of the business fell more with the family Ellen married into. But Ellen wore her wealth and status like a badge of honor. Hope figured out during her first phone call with the woman that paying homage to her image could be enough to soothe her overbearing ways.

Ellen O’Leary didn’t say anything for several seconds, and Hope waited her out, her own stubbornness keeping her from caving into the other woman’s intimidation.

“We will be in touch.” Mrs. O’Leary ended the call, and Hope inhaled deeply, releasing the breath slowly to calm her annoyance.

The Bridal Shoppe needed to open, but she could hear noises coming from the salon, alerting her to the arrival of her assistant, Kayla Sumner. Despite what she told Mrs. O’Leary, her first appointment wasn’t until later in the day. She decided Kayla could handle the opening of the boutique without her. She needed to shake off the negativity Mrs. O’Leary had dumped on her morning.

She went back to her sketches, losing herself in the development of her designs. After a couple of hours passed, Hope emerged from her office with a smile to greet Kayla, who was hanging up the phone.

“You can thank me later.”

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