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Tula’s gaze zeroed in on her. “There you are. I’d almost given up on you.”
“I’m sorry. I—”
“Are you sick?”
“Sick?” Clara shook her head. “Um, no. My, uh, phone died. But I’m ready to go over the final run-through for the reception.”
“There’s no need.”
“No need?”Oh no!This was worse than she’d imagined.
“Brooke walked me through it. We worked out the final details.”
A pent-up breath released. “I’m really sorry. I had a late night and—”
Tula waved away her explanation with a folded newspaper. “Have you seen this?”
“No. I haven’t seen the paper today.” She didn’t want to admit that with her hectic work schedule she wasn’t really up on current events like she should be. “What’s in it?”
“Look for yourself.”
Clara unfolded the paper, finding that it was folded to the society section. There was a picture of Tula. The headline read:Tula Fox and Hugh Steadman Do-Over.
Her fingers clenched the paper, crinkling it.Oh no. How did this happen?
Clara glanced at Tula, whose arms were crossed as she sent her an accusatory stare. Tula thought she was responsible for this? How could that be possible? She would never intentionally ruin someone’s big day—never ever.
“I didn’t do this.” Clara straightened her shoulders and stared directly at Tula, willing her to believe her.
Tula didn’t say a word. The silence was oppressive. She was going to be fired. First, she missed their appointment, and now this. She glanced down at the headline again, and her stomach lurched. Who had done such a thing? Surely no one she knew.
“Is that all you’re going to say for yourself?”
Clara glanced up. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“What about an explanation for how this happened?”
“I… I don’t know. It couldn’t have come from anyone associated with me. I trust them all implicitly.” Clara wanted to suggest it might have come from someone Tula knew, a staff member or a friend, but she didn’t dare make unfounded accusations.
“Fine.” Tula adjusted her purple leather purse strap. “You aren’t fired. This time. Just be careful with the rest of the wedding details. No more slip-ups.”
Clara didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted. She shoved aside her conflicting emotions. “Do you want to move the wedding now that they know the date and that it’s at the Seabreeze Wedding Chapel?”
Tula shook her head. “We have everything worked out. Just make sure to hire additional security.”
With her wedding dress in hand, Tula turned and walked out the door. She didn’t trust anyone with it. Not even Clara. Though how could she blame her now that news of the wedding had been leaked to the media?
Clara expelled a pent-up breath. She couldn’t believe how close she’d come to losing everything today. She pressed a hand to her pounding chest. That couldn’t happen again. She had no doubt that if anything else went wrong Tula wouldn’t bat an eye over firing her.
She phoned Brooke to let her know what had happened. In turn, Brooke let her know the phone was ringing off the hook with questions from the press. Clara was going to have to formulate a comment—one that didn’t say much of anything, but something that might give them a little breathing room.
With this second chance, Clara refused to do anything to jeopardize it. She stepped out into the sunshine. Just then her phone chimed. She withdrew it from the pocket in her purse. The caller ID said it was Andrew. She had absolutely no idea what to say to him, but there was no point in avoiding him.
“Morning, beautiful.” The deep rumble of his voice sent her pulse racing.
“Sorry I couldn’t stay longer last night. I had an early appointment this morning with my physical therapist. I don’t want to fall behind with my treatment while I’m in San Francisco. And then I had a couple of things to do before the bachelor party. I had to pick up a gift for my brother’s birthday. This week he turns twenty-five.”
“Oh.”
