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Alexandra whipped around, brushing her hair out of her face as she smiled at the young woman walking down the stairs. She scrambled for a moment to come up with a name.
“Good morning, Miss Friedman.”
Ellen Friedman returned the smile with a sunny one of her own. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-one, a tall young woman with ebony hair that seemed to defy the sea breeze and fall in a smooth curtain down to her waist.
“These flowers are stunning,” she gushed as she bounced over to one of the picnic tables and leaned over to smell a carnation. “I’m used to seeing bouquets of daisies and roses, but the arrangements you come up with are so beautiful.”
“Thank you, Miss Friedman.”
“Call me Ellen.” Her hand drifted up and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I actually had a question for you. I’m getting married this fall.”
“Congratulations,” Alexandra replied with genuine happiness. She’d only encountered the graduate student a couple times over the past few days, but each time the young woman had been friendly and sweet.
Ellen’s smile grew.
“Thanks. We’re getting married at the Rainbow Room.”
Alexandra’s eyebrows climbed. The skyscraper that anchored the infamous Rockefeller Plaza in Midtown offered up its sixty-fifth floor to brides with stunning views of New York City, including floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Empire State Building.
“That’s incredible.”
“I can hardly believe it.” Ellen’s sculpted eyebrows drew together as she frowned. “But I just found out my florist is expecting a baby a week before, and her assistant isn’t comfortable taking over.” She gestured to the flowers. “I’ve loved everything I’ve seen you do this past week. I know it’s a longshot, you probably book years in advance, but is there any chance you’d be free to do my wedding?”
Alexandra barely contained the cautious thrill coursing through her veins as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. Another client and another wedding. At this rate she’d be able to break her lease and find a new storefront by the winter holidays.
“When is the wedding?”
“The first weekend in October.”
“I’m actually free, so I’d—”
Ellen squealed and launched herself at Alexandra, wrapping her in an enthusiastic hug.
“Oh, thank you! I actually like your flowers much better. My mother picked the first florist, and she was nice but so traditional and just not Gary and me at all. I know you’re swamped with helping Mr. Santos this week, but as soon as you’re free, I’d love to set up an appointment with you.”
Alexandra couldn’t help but laugh. Was it too much to hope for, that she’d finally paid her dues and was emerging from the shadows of the past into an incredibly happy-looking future?
Ellen chattered on about her vision for her wedding as they walked back to the house and into the kitchen. Two of Pamela’s chefs hurried about, cooking pancakes and filling pitchers of orange juice. Judging by the rumbling of conversation from the dining room down the hall, many of the other guests had come down for breakfast.
“I love this house,” Ellen said as she snagged a glass of juice off a passing tray. “Mr. Santos is so fortunate he got it. Dad said it was quite the bidding war.”
“It is stunning.”
Amazing, though, Alexandra thought as her gaze drifted down the hall toward the dining room, searching for a familiar tall, dark-haired figure, that details like the vaulted ceilings and transom windows overlooking the hedged lawn and sunken tennis court no longer mattered. None of it would matter if Grant wasn’t here to transform it from an incredible mansion to a home.
Her lips curved up as confidence surged through her. No matter what, she would tell him today how she felt. It was time for her to prove to herself, and him, that she was strong enough to believe in them.
She turned back to see Ellen watching her with a glow in her brown eyes.
“So how long have you known Mr. Santos?”
Her confidence ebbed as warning slid down the back of her neck. How was she supposed to answer? She didn’t want to lie, but she didn’t want to risk any of Grant’s past with her father coming to light.
“Not long. We met once, years ago, but we only just became reacquainted last week when he moved back to New York.”
The brief sense of relief that she had successfully navigated her first test disappeared as Ellen edged closer and lowered her voice to a conspirator’s whisper.
“Really? Because I could have sworn there was something between the two of you.” She fanned herself. “The way he looked at you last night, it was like something out of a romance book. Gary’s extremely sweet, but I thought Mr. Santos was going to burst into flames.”
