Back To The Lake Breeze Hotel. Amie Denman
her job.
In addition to refreshing the website, she had replayed her meeting with Nate. Of all people...Nate Graham. Why was he back in Bayside? And did she really have to plan and publicize weddings side by side with him? The fates could not have doled out a more suitable punishment if the universe was looking to mess with her perfectly ordered life.
On Friday afternoon, the previous weekend’s wedding pictures finally appeared along with text describing the venue, flowers, music and food. There was an accurate description of the bride’s gown, the flowered arch on the boardwalk, the size of the party, the cake and the new couple’s first song. Of course it was accurate. Alice had written it herself and emailed it to Nate, who now had full control of Starlight Point’s webpage and social media. Her jaw tightened when she got to the part explaining that the “staff” of Starlight Point had coordinated the event.
“I’m the staff,” she muttered to herself. Along with some dedicated helpers, special events sat squarely on Alice’s shoulders. Yes, there were many Starlight Point employees she called upon to set up chairs and serve food and drinks, but all the planning and worrying fell to her.
Virginia Hamilton was her right-hand woman these days. Retired, but still actively involved and interested in the amusement park she and her late husband had run for forty years, Virginia enjoyed being involved with special events. She wanted a job that would have her out and about in the parks and would be different every day.
While Virginia and Alice were staying busy bringing in people and revenue with their special events, they’d also been planning for the fall festival weekends. It was Alice’s brainchild and a large part of the reason Starlight Point had hired her. She also suspected it was a large part of the reason they had decided to hire a full-time PR person.
“Great,” she said as she dug through her filing cabinet. “I probably got him that job and now I have to work with him.”
“Sandwiches,” the office assistant, Haley, announced. “There was a line at the employee cafeteria. Sorry about the wait.”
Haley was a fresh-faced eighteen-year-old working her last summer job before going off to college. She showed up early every day—even though Alice had told her it wasn’t necessary—and was always happy to help. Her enthusiasm reminded Alice of being just out of high school when it seemed everything was possible.
“Thanks,” Alice said. “I didn’t mind the wait, but now that I think about food, I’m pretty hungry.”
Haley pulled one foil-wrapped sandwich out of the bag and put it on Alice’s desk. “Eat it before it gets cold.”
“In a minute. I just have to find some stuff I stashed in this filing cabinet—plans for the fall festival weekends. Those start next weekend, and I’m pretty sure we’re going to need twenty-five-hour days to get everything ready.”
“You’ll be ready. I’ve seen you pull off some amazing things this summer.”
“Thanks.” I can use all the encouragement I can get.
Haley lingered in the doorway, combing her fingers through her bangs and frowning. “I’m thinking of getting blond highlights because I’m tired of my one-color hair. What do you think?”
Alice closed the filing drawer. “No way. If you just get highlights on top of your dark hair, you’ll look like a baby skunk.”
“Oh,” the younger girl said, her smile fading.
“A very cute baby skunk,” Alice said quickly. “But if you want a change, I think you should go with layers.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Haley said.
“Or a Starlight Point tattoo,” Alice said, grinning. “Someplace really obvious.”
Haley shook her head. “Very funny.”
“You asked. I think, in your heart, you probably thought it was a bad idea before you even heard my opinion.”
“At least I know that if I do something drastic and it looks awful, I’m sure you would tell me the truth.”
“I would. Unless it’s a tattoo—those are permanent. I’d tell you the truth if it was something you could fix.”
Haley smiled and crossed the hall to deliver Nate’s lunch. She and Nate laughed and talked for a while before Haley finally said goodbye. Of course she was trying to make a good impression on Nate—she wanted to become a public relations media consultant. And Nate was charming and pleasant when he wanted to be. Because he worked in PR, he knew how to make things look and sound good.
And, she had to admit, he still looked good, unchanged by the years except for a little more muscle and maturity in his expression. Tall with dark hair and eyes, he could easily win people over, which meant they could be working together a long, long time. There was no way to avoid the problem, and she should be honest with herself, march across the hall and...say something to Nate.
Instead, she sighed, squirted some sanitizer on her hands and sat down at her desk to eat. Maybe lunch would fuel her up to face what she had to. She rolled the sandwich over and read the name written in black marker on the package. Nate.
Alice groaned and closed her eyes. She could eat Nate’s sandwich, which, according to the wrapper, was ham, mustard and lettuce. That would mean giving up her favorite: turkey, provolone and pickles. Or she could bravely march across the hallway and trade with him.
“I believe this is yours.”
She dropped the sandwich and looked up. Nate leaned on her office door, a sandwich in his hand. He had beaten her to it, and she couldn’t think of a thing to say.
Instead of speaking, Alice held up the item he’d come for. He crossed her small office, took his sandwich and laid hers in front of her without a word.
“Thank you,” she said.
Nate was almost to the door, but he paused and half turned. “You’re welcome. I know you hate mustard.”
He slipped into the hallway, leaving her no chance to respond. It was just mustard, of course, but the fact he remembered... That was going to make it twice as hard to work with the man she’d chosen not to marry only hours before their own wedding.
* * *
“I USED TO love pumpkin pie,” Henry said. “But I don’t think I can ever enjoy it again after this.”
Virginia laughed. “It’s not so bad. If we take enough painkillers tonight, we’ll live to do this all over again tomorrow.”
She took a small pumpkin from a wagon and tossed it to Henry. He walked to a flowerbed, glanced at a color-coded map and placed it beside a green squash.
Nearby, the midway fountain had been transformed into an autumn display of colors and textures. All summer long, refreshing spray from the light blue splash pad tempted children to play in the water and cooled the air for people passing by. The water was turned off for the fall festival, though, and a giant inflatable pumpkin crouched over the area. Children could run through the pumpkin’s grinning mouth while their parents rested on the benches circling it.
In addition to the hay bales and pumpkins artfully placed around the seating area, Virginia and Henry were laying out various sizes and colors of pumpkins and squash in the flowerbed. When completed, the vegetables would create a fall landscape scene, but it took attention to detail. It reminded Virginia of the paint-by-number projects she’d done with her children during long, snowy Michigan winters.
“I better look at the diagram again,” Henry said. “I don’t want our artwork to look like a couple of teenagers dashed it together so they could quit early.”
“Nothing against the kids,” Virginia said, “but old age does have its advantages.”
Henry stepped close and stood over Virginia, blocking the sun and smiling down at her. Small wrinkles around his eyes were accentuated by the smile, and she noticed