New Year's Resolution: Romance!: Say Yes / No More Bad Girls / Just a Fling. Leslie Kelly
Yes
Christie Ridgway
The new year seems a natural time for new beginnings. The heroine of “Say Yes,” Ashley Walker, is ready to start anew after four lonely years as a young widow. But she’s thinking of putting on dresses again and going to parties, not taking the scary risk of falling in love. When she meets wealthy money manager Chase Bradley, she figures he’s as cautious as she is, until he seeks a midnight kiss…and then more.
If you’ve not visited the setting for this story, Blue Arrow Lake, through my Cabin Fever series for HQN Books, I hope you’ll enjoy this glimpse of peaks and pines just a couple of hours from Southern California’s stunning beaches and sunny glamour. It’s where the celebrated rich go to relax and where the more humble mountain men and women exult in their incredible natural surroundings. It’s a clash of types that causes sparks that result in passion that just might possibly end in love!
Wherever you are, whenever you’re reading this, I wish for you health, happiness and great reading.
All the best,
Christie Ridgway
ASHLEY WALKER STEPPED out of the florist’s van and shivered in the New Year’s Eve air. Though this was Southern California, the five-thousand-foot mountain elevation meant real winter weather. An unusual white Thanksgiving had made for happy times at the nearby ski resorts, and the numbers of skiers and snowboarders lining up for the lifts continued to surge. The wealthy patrons who owned second homes surrounding private, posh Blue Arrow Lake had been flocking up the hill from their usual Los Angeles environs to celebrate the holidays before roaring fires and on powdery slopes.
With a quick glance at the Tudor-inspired mansion she’d visited on this same day for the past three years, Ashley snatched a knee-length smock from the passenger seat and slid her arms through the cotton sleeves. As a coat, it didn’t provide much warmth, but it would protect the little black dress she’d put on in advance of her evening plans.
Before she could get to those, however, she had to deliver the arrangements for the Bradleys’ traditional house party, which was why she’d pulled up beside the side service entrance. They hosted the weeklong event every year, inviting couples who were also favored clients of their financial firm to enjoy a vacation in the luxurious lakeside home. It was a massive place, with twenty bedrooms and more bathrooms than that, set in the middle of expansive grounds that butted up to a sandy beach and double docks on the water. Ashley always enjoyed her little peek into how the other half lived—something she never grew accustomed to even though her job in a florist shop in the nearby village meant she often visited the premier showplaces in the area. As a mountain woman born and bred, she accepted that their peaks-and-pines economy needed the überrich Angelenos so the full-timers here could make a living in this area of stupendous natural beauty.
Her phone rang as she walked to the rear of the van. She fished it from the smock’s patch pocket, checked the screen and then held the device to her ear. “What’s up, Suze?”
“What are you wearing to my party tonight?”
Ashley glanced down at the strip of fabric revealed by the flapping sides of the garment she wore over it. “Borrowed a dress from my cousin. Black, knee-length, sleeveless. Has a full skirt with a black lace overskirt.”
“Really?”
Her friend’s surprise rankled a little. “I know how to dress up. I have on black lace stockings, too, and my black heels.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you in anything but jeans and T-shirts in more than four years.”
“I work in a florist shop. A business suit would be impractical.”
“You know what I mean,” Suze said.
Yes, Ashley knew what the other woman meant. She hadn’t had an occasion to wear anything besides jeans and T-shirts in more than four years because she hadn’t gone anywhere but to work and the grocery store since her husband, Stuart, had died. Now, as a twenty-seven-year-old widow, she’d decided it was time to get out more. “I told you, Suze. I’ve turned over a new leaf. I’m making a resolution. This is going to be my year of yes.”
“If I get you drunk enough tonight, I may have it tattooed on your forehead. That way you’ll see it every morning as you brush your teeth.”
“I’m not going to get any kind of drunk tonight.” Ashley pulled open one of the van’s back doors. The combined scent of various flowers wafted out, the fragrance dominated by the deep sweet smell of the roses with just a hint of cinnamon from the carnations.
“Oh, you might want to reconsider that,” Suze said, in an airy, casual manner that put Ashley on high alert. Suzanne was her best friend since fourth grade, and she knew all her moods and sneaky subterfuges.
“What have you done?” The ensuing pause was long enough for Ashley to take inventory of the flowers stowed in the back of the van. There were arrangements for every bedroom and bathroom and others for the living areas. Mrs. Bradley had called in her order and left it up to Ashley to make decisions when it came to the particular flowers and greenery.
“I trust your judgment,” the older woman had said. “And you’ll set them around for me, won’t you? My older daughter is expecting her second child soon into the new year so I’m staying with her until the very last minute.”
Ashley reached in to tweak a bit of Queen Anne’s lace that was out of place and put a stern note in her voice. “Suzanne Janice Reynolds, don’t think I can’t detect the guilty vibrations coming over the line.”
“Isortofarrangedadateforyou.”
She said it so fast Ashley couldn’t separate the syllables. “What?”
“Isortofarrangedadateforyou.”
This time her brain managed to decipher the sentence. She dropped to take a seat on the back bumper as heat bloomed on her nape and over her face, dissipating the late-afternoon chill. “Suze!” she said in an irate tone. “You promised—”
“And you promised me that you were ready to climb out of your shell.”
“I can’t do a date. You know that. It’s too soon—”
“Four years,” Suze pointed out.
Four years and seventeen days. “Still—”
“Climbing out of your shell,” Suze said again.
“A date on New Year’s Eve is more like...like...bursting out of a birthday cake!”
“Calm down,” her friend advised.
Ashley pressed her hand to her stomach. “I feel sick. I don’t think I can make it to the party after all.”
“Coward.”
“Cautious,” Ashley countered. “Who is this guy anyway?”
“A gym friend of Jackson’s.”
She groaned. “It’s going to be one of those men who stares at himself in the mirror, grunting with every biceps curl.”
“That’s not so bad.”
“Haven’t you ever noticed how they dead drop the free weights so that everyone in the room looks over? I hate that type.”
“When was the last time you were in a gym?”
Guilt nibbled at Ashley. She supposed she had no choice but to come clean. “Um...look. I’ve been taking classes every morning. Alternating between spin and Pilates.”
There was another long silence on the other end of the phone. “We have a pact,” Suze finally said with