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Always The Hero

Год написания книги
2019
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Lori Bradley glanced up from behind the registration desk at the Flutterby Inn as BethAnn Bottomley swooped in like a redheaded designer bird of prey. A Butterfly Harbor native who had returned home after the death of her senator husband, BethAnn was one of those people you crossed the street to avoid. Somewhere north of fifty, she had the uncanny talent of turning any compliment into an insult. Today’s campaign-worthy suit was the color of summer cherries. The look in her eyes? Seek and destroy.

“You have got to help me!” BethAnn dropped a stack of boxes on top of the registration desk and draped herself over them in exhaustion. “Esther Kravatz’s arthritis is acting up and she totally forgot about these invitations. If I don’t find someone reliable to send them out, the entire welcome dinner could fall apart! I’m so glad you’re on the committee.”

Esther Kravatz’s arthritis had been flaring up a lot since BethAnn had returned to Butterfly Harbor after more than a decade away. In the past, the welcome dinner had always been a casual affair, certainly nothing like the big to-do BethAnn had in mind.

“Actually, I’m not on the...” Lori trailed off as she stood, pulled to her feet by the breathy desperation in BethAnn’s voice. A sinking sensation swept over Lori as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and brushed a self-conscious hand down the front of her blue-and-white-striped maxi dress. “How many are there?” Lori’s chest tightened as she did a quick mental count.

“Five, six hundred, give or take. We’re not expecting that many to show up, of course, but they might be up for donations to our charity gift baskets. You can take care of it, right? I’d do it myself, but I’m just so busy getting sponsors and making delivery arrangements. It shouldn’t take too long. Just have a glass of wine, pop some corn and get to stuffing.”

Lori’s smile stretched almost as wide as her patience. Some things never changed. People rarely said no to her, if only to get BethAnn off their backs.

“No one else on the committee can help? What about taking them to the youth center and asking the kids...”

“Oh, well, we can’t trust children with something this important, can we?” BethAnn waved that dismissive hand of hers in the air. “And as far as the committee, apparently not everyone’s taking this kickoff event as seriously as I am. It’s vital we make a good show of things if we’re going to draw a higher level of clientele.”

Lori bit the inside of her cheek. Higher level of clientele was BethAnn code for her rich “friends.”

“We’ve already got multiple television stations coming,” BethAnn went on. “Which means we’re going to be front and center. And then I remembered you and how you’ve always been tip-top when it comes to responsibility and volunteering. I have to tell you, Lori.” She pressed manicured fingers against her chest and tapped where most people possessed a heart. “While I was honored you all elected me to lead the charge on this event, I had no idea how much work would be involved! Thank goodness for all my worker bees.”

Elected? Lori pressed her lips into a hard line. More like the committee had been too intimidated to argue when BethAnn announced her intention to take over the event. Lori sighed. Most of the “work” BethAnn referred to had been completed and locked in place thanks to Lori securing the caterer. All that was left was to figure out furniture rental, decor, and, well... She looked down at the invitations.

Clearly BethAnn’s desire for the spotlight hadn’t diminished in her years away. As happy as people had been to see her go, just like a Monarch, she’d found her way back.

“Buzz, buzz, buzz.” BethAnn clapped her hands together as if wishing a fairy back to life. “Oh, and these all need to be mailed by the eighteenth.”

Lori’s hand froze as she flicked through the addressed envelopes. “You’re kidding? BethAnn, that’s—”

“I know it’s short notice, but I have every faith in you, Lori. Drop me an email when they’re done so I can mark it off the list. I have tons to do before the town council meeting tonight. Stay tuned! There’s going to be a big surprise! Ta!” BethAnn flicked a wave over her shoulder and hurried to the door before any malevolent plans could take hold in Lori’s mind.

“Unbelievable.” There went her free time. Lori grabbed the top box and stuck it on the floor out of sight. She wasn’t up for another lecture from Abby Manning—her friend and boss—about what a pushover she was. She didn’t want to hear how she should be living and enjoying her life instead of hiding behind a desk or holing up in her greenhouse of a sanctuary. Or getting sucked into jobs that weren’t her responsibility.

As if on cue, Abby stepped out from behind the sliding glass doors of Flutterby Dreams, the inn’s now-award-winning restaurant, and turned her perky nose to the ceiling to sniff. “I smell desperation and condescension. BethAnn’s been here, hasn’t she?”

“She just left.” Lori chuckled and pushed the box farther under the desk with her foot. BethAnn’s signature perfume certainly caught people’s attention. “Did you want to say hi?”

Abby rolled her eyes and stepped into the lobby, the flouncy pink skirt of her dress bouncing around her knees. Looking like a cross between a 50’s carhop and a sprite one might find in Lori’s meticulously maintained flower garden, the longtime manager of the Flutterby Inn narrowed laser beam blue eyes on the boxes in Lori’s hands. “What are those?”

“Invitations for the festival kickoff dinner.” Lori had almost pulled them out of reach when Abby’s hands locked around her wrists.

“Why do you have them?”

Lori’s cheeks warmed. She shrugged and shifted on her feet, wishing there was some way to become invisible under her friend’s penetrating stare. How did someone so petite make so many cower? “Because I’m reliable and responsible.” Lori knew how important the festival was to the continued financial recovery of the town. If it meant a few extra hours of work, so be it. “BethAnn was saving me some time by delivering.”

“Uh-huh.” Abby shook her head, clearly not believing her. “And she couldn’t possibly have found someone else to do it or done the work herself. We talked about this, Lori. You have to stop letting people take advantage of you.”

“You take advantage of me,” Lori teased.

“I pay you. There’s a difference.”

“These don’t have to go out for a while. It’ll be fine.” Given the expression on Abby’s face, Lori scrapped plans to get a jump start during her downtime at the inn. “I can get a good start tonight—”

Panic rose in Abby’s eyes. “You’re covering for me at the town hall meeting tonight, remember? I have that dinner with Jason’s partner. If he hadn’t flown in from New York...”

“No, I’ve got it. It’s okay.” Darn it! She’d forgotten she promised to go. “It’s no big deal. I’ll make it all work.”

“Whew. Thanks. Jason’s super nervous about the meeting. I need to be there for moral support. And to pour the wine. Keep your ears open in case our good mayor throws a festival curveball.”

“What kind of curveball?”

“I wish I knew. Don’t worry. You just need to be the face of the inn. Since we agreed to host and sponsor the BBQ cook-off and food market with Calliope—”

“You’re not participating in the cook-off, are you?”

“No.” Abby scrunched her mouth and released Lori’s hands. “Geez, I set off half a dozen fire alarms in this town...”

Lori sank into her chair after settling the boxes in their not-so-hidden hiding place. Abby Manning inhabiting a kitchen was one of the reasons smoke detectors had been invented.

“You’d think the fact I’m marrying a chef would have earned me some points by now,” Abby huffed.

“When are you doing that, exactly?” Lori asked in the hopes of keeping Abby off her case for a while longer. “Getting married?”

“Oh.” Abby blinked, and then a slow, dazed smile stretched across her features. “On Christmas Eve.”

“This Christmas Eve? Abby!” Lori leaped out of her chair and wrapped her arms around a vibrating Abby. “You finally decided on a date! That’s great! Oh, a Christmas wedding.” Lori’s mind exploded in images of blossoming poinsettias and frosted trees decked out in twinkling golden lights and shimmering ribbon. Was there anything more beautiful? “Where?”

“Here.” Abby stepped back and clutched her clasped hands against her chest. “This will be Jason’s first Christmas in Butterfly Harbor and I want to go full bore. Total fantasyland here at the inn. I’ve already talked to our new owners and they want to make it part of their travel promotion next year, which gives me some fun financial numbers to play with.” She hesitated, bit her lower lip and raised uncertain eyes to Lori. “I’m about to become a complete hypocrite.”

“But it’s coming with a warning. I appreciate that.”

“Is there any chance you’d help me with the wedding? The flowers and decorations I mean. I could hire a florist, but you’re so good with the arrangements we put in the rooms and on the table. We get so many compliments.” She gestured to the exploding bouquet of autumn buds and full-blown sunflowers on the side table courtesy of Lori’s greenhouse habit. “And you’re organized, which we both know I need. If you’d be up for it I’d be in your debt forever!”

“You don’t even have to ask.” Excitement struck dead center of Lori’s heart, tempered by momentary worry at the idea of letting her friend down. She hadn’t tackled a project as big as a wedding before, even if it was just the flowers and decor. She’d helped with Holly’s nuptials earlier this summer and then there had been Paige and Fletcher’s spur-of-the-moment ceremony a few weeks ago, but nothing along the scale of what Abby no doubt had in mind.

Still. Lori bit her lip, unable to stop the smile from forming. She could do this. She wanted to do this. Even as she tried to convince herself, her hands shook. She had to do this. Abby was counting on her. “I’m honored, Abby. Truly. Whatever you need.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I know it won’t be easy with you playing double duty as a bridesmaid—”

“Wait, what?” Lori’s pulse flatlined. She touched trembling fingers to her suddenly dry mouth. “Abby, you don’t want me as a bridesmaid. That’s so public. And you’re so...” She waved her hand up and down Abby’s short, petite frame. “And I’m so...” It took her twice as long to indicate her own body.

“You’re so what?” Abby’s eyes sparked and narrowed.

“I’m not bridesmaid material. Next to you I’ll look like the Jolly Green Giantess.” The fat, frumpy Jolly Green Giantess. She tugged at the waistline of her dress, felt her fingernails dig into her palms through the fabric. “Good heavens, the photographer will need a special lens to get us both in the same picture.”

Abby planted her hands on Lori’s shoulders and shoved her into her chair. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“You know what. Put yourself down, make a joke out of something I don’t find funny. I can almost understand it with people you don’t know, but we’ve been friends long enough. Stop it.”
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