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“Make sure they’re from designers I’ve worked with in the past. They’ll be more likely to send over a free pair just for the publicity of me wearing them for my wedding.”
Clara was surprised at how much Tula worried about freebies and the prices of things, but she kept her thoughts to herself. The deposit check had cleared the bank. That was what mattered.
While Tula changed back into her street clothes, Clara let her gaze scan over her lengthy to-do-list. The purple calla lilies and white roses had been special ordered. And the tapas menu had been approved by Tula. Now if only the bride could decide on a dress.
Clara glanced up at Tula. “When will you be back? We’re running out of time.”
Tula slipped on her white high-top canvas tennis shoes. “I’ll be back the day after tomorrow. That will give you time to find some more shoes and dresses.”
Clara inwardly groaned. She’d already offered Tula the best dresses she could find. She was going to have to think outside the box for the next round, because she wasn’t exaggerating about running out of time. The wedding was in three weeks. Just the thought of the narrow timeline sent Clara’s heart racing, and her palms grew moist. She told herself that once they found the dress, everything else would fall into place. She fervently hoped so.
Tula rushed out the door, complaining that she had to get back to LA for a promotional appearance. Clara, on the other hand, took her time cleaning up the room and thanking Liza for all of her help and patience. Once everything was sorted, she slipped her digital tablet in her oversized pink purse and grabbed the stack of bridal magazines she’d brought along for any brainstorming sessions.
As she neared the chapel door, her thoughts were focused on the large amount of work she had to accomplish in the next forty-eight hours. Talk about one of life’s biggest challenges. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad, but she doubted she’d get much sleep between now and her next meeting with Tula.
She’d just locked up the door when she glanced up, finding someone coming up the steps. They came to a stop next to her. Clara tilted her chin upward and shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand. After her eyes adjusted, she took in the man’s handsome face—a very familiar face. Her heart skipped a beat. Dark, short-cropped hair framed an angular face with a chiseled jaw.
Her gaze moved to his eyes but quickly lowered, noticing something new. A scar. It snaked its way along his jaw on the left side. What in the world had happened to him?
Her gaze rose again, meeting his. She’d recognize his cool blue eyes anywhere. They were forever imprinted upon her mind. When they focused on her, like they were now, it was like they could see clear through her to all of her secrets and insecurities. She swallowed hard.
Andrew!
What is he doing here?
CHAPTER TWO
Atlast,shestoodbefore him.
Flesh and blood instead of a dream.
Andrew knew he should say something—anything. Instead he stood there, drinking in Clara’s beauty. How was it possible she was even more beautiful than he recalled?
Her questioning gaze bore into him. His heart pounded in his ears. And the words he’d rehearsed on the short flight from LA to San Francisco had scattered and disappeared.
He was left speechless and in awe of her. Clara’s blond hair was pulled back and braided. And her face had only a trace of makeup. She didn’t need makeup. Her beauty started on the inside and radiated outward.
His initial instinct was to sweep her into his arms and kiss her—it’d been so long since he’d held her close and felt her lips pressed to his. But he could tell by the guarded look in her eyes that any such overture would not be welcome. And that was probably for the best.
The sunlight reflected off Clara’s pendant, catching his attention. A gold chain held it, dangling just above her cleavage. The heart-shaped pendant was studded with tiny diamonds that shimmered when the light hit them. It was something new—perhaps a token of love by some other man?
The thought of her involved with someone else stabbed at his chest, but it was inevitable. She was young and quite attractive with a sweet personality. Of course men would be eager to date her. An uneasiness churned in his gut. It was best not to think any more about the pendant.
When his gaze returned to her face, Clara’s complexion had dramatically paled. For a moment, he wondered if she was about to pass out. Every muscle in his body grew tense, ready to spring into action should she start to fall. A few stressful moments later, when he was fairly certain she was steady on her feet, he realized she was waiting for him to speak.
He climbed the last step until they were on even footing. “Clara, it’s good to see you. How are you?”
“I… I’m good.” A breeze swept past them, sweeping back the strands of hair framing her face.
“Glad to hear it.” He forced his voice to sound as normal as possible. Still, it was so strange standing there and talking to her like they were strangers. “Well, go ahead.” When she sent him a puzzled look, he added, “Aren’t you going to ask me how I am?”
She blinked repeatedly, as though making sure he wasn’t a figment of her imagination. “Um, how are you?”
“I’m good. No complaints.” It was obvious even to the most casual observer that he wasn’t the man he used to be. He could complain, but what good would that do? He’d been given a second chance to fix some wrongs—not everyone received such a blessing. That had to be enough.
“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, what are you doing here?”
He supposed that was a legitimate question considering this was a wedding chapel. “I didn’t mean to catch you off guard. I thought we could talk.”
