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“Oui. I am sending it to you now. Un moment.”
With a soft, sleepy moan, I roll onto my back and stretch. The other side of the bed is empty. I’m not surprised that Henry is already up and gone. He was tossing and turning all night. I doubt he got any sleep. Still, it disappoints me. I didn’t get enough time alone with him before rejoining reality.
My phone jolts with an incoming text and I read the headline:
Exclusive: Henry Wolf Survives Alaskan Mine Collapse and Proposes to His Assistant
“Ugh.Ex-assistant!” Several screenshots appear and they’re full of pictures of the two of us—some as recent as last night, through the glass of Wolf Tower’s lobby doors—and others taken weeks ago at William Wolf’s funeral. There’s even one of us from that dreaded night of Wolf Cove’s grand opening in early summer when I was so sure Henry was cheating on me.
“Does it say how they found out?” They’ve made a point of drawing a red circle around my hand with an added arrow pointing at my left ring finger, but it’s impossible to see the ring.
“How theyalwaysfind out. ‘An anonymous source close to the family.’”
That could be anyone from a fellow churchgoer to Lucy from the feed store with the way my mother’s lips have surely been flapping since yesterday morning. “What else does it say?”
“That you are to marry in that barn of yours.”
Damn it, Mama.“We arenotgetting married in Greenbank.”
“Well, I must say that is a relief. It is a cute barn on a cute farm, but you two are meant for something far grander. Maybe my place? It could be the unveiling of Wolf Hotel’s newest boutique hotel, if your fiancé would commit to me already.”
I laugh. Margo is nothing if not relentless about her dream to turn her family’s old French castle into a Wolf chain hotel. “We’re getting married in Alaska next spring, before the hotel opens for the season.” The most important place in the world to Henry and now to me.
She makes an exasperated sound. “I suppose that place will also do. Now, if you are to marry in spring, that does not leave Emmanuelle Agard much time. We will meet with her when she is in New York in a few weeks.”
“Emmanuelle Agard? Who is that?”
Margo’s laughter fills my ear. “Oh, my sweet Abigail. You are precious. She is only one of the most sought-after dress designers in the world. She must be booked at least three years in advance and only takes on a handful of clients each year. It is a good thing that one of your dearest friends is also one of her dearest friends.”
“You don’t have to pull strings for me.”
“Too late. They are already pulled! She has agreed to make you the most beautiful dress of the year.Un pièce de résistance. Far too nice to get married in the woods with wild animals, if you ask me, but nobody is.”
I shake my head. “Thank you, Margo.” She’s always playing the role of master puppeteer, with nothing to gain out of it for herself.
“What are friends for! Now, I must run. My manager has called me three times to inform me that I am terribly late for a meeting.” Unhurried heels click on tile in the background. “Oh! Before I forget, has Sandra reached out to you yet?”
The buyer from Nordstrom. A knot forms in my stomach with the worry of disappointing Margo after all the effort she’s put in on that front, but I slept on Henry’s words and he’s right. I need to take control. “She left a voicemail.” I hesitate, but then decide it’s best to get this all out in the open. “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me behind this, Margo,really… but I need to hit the brakes. Not forever, but for now. I still have school, and now the wedding, and everything is moving so fast. I’m going to start with a limited run of soap ahead of the holidays.” I end my declaration with a wince. “You’re not angry, are you?”
“Me? Angry with you?” She tsks. “Oh Abigail, you never need to worry about that, and you do not need to apologize. Sometimes I get overzealous, but I am only trying to help in any way I can. Sandra can wait until you are ready, and I will make sure everyone knows about your launch.”
I smile at the ceiling. “You are such a good friend.”
“I could be a much better one if that possessive fiancé of yours would allow it.” Her musical laughter rings out. “I will see you in a few weeks.”
* * *
I hear rustlingin the kitchen and round the corner to find Henry’s housekeeper unloading groceries onto the counter. “Raj!”
The middle-aged man looks up from his task and smiles. “Miss Abbi, it is so good to see you again—oh!” He chuckles as I launch into him with a hug. “I was not expecting that.” After a beat, he encloses his arms around me.
I take my time pulling away to meet his big brown eyes. “How are you doing?” The man barely knew me and yet saved me from Scott, but in doing so now has to live with the knowledge that he killed a man.
He hesitates, examining the spot where Scott dropped to the floor and did not get back up. “Better each day, thank you for asking. And you? You seem to be healing well.” His gaze flitters to my forehead.
“I am. Honestly, I haven’t had much time to think about it with everything else.”
“I saw the news about the mine. I’m so glad to see you both here and well. Now you can have a few days of quiet.”
