St. Helena Vineyard Series: Something Borrowed (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 5

  I know he means well, but he doesn't get it. I was him, the playboy, good time, no strings...except the ones tied and pulled by my father—the ones that landed me in this mess.

  Then, last night happened, and everything changed. Now, the only thing I want to be tied up in is Mila. It's a chick thing to say; I'll be the first to admit it.

  "Sorry. I'm just ready to move on with my life. It's time to make it official. I'm done pretending. No more staying quiet."

  "You sure that's good for business?" Jett questions. He knows how my father can be, but for once, I've got his support.

  "I have a little insurance policy." I think about the signed documents I picked up at my father’s home office when I stopped by to check on my mother early this morning.

  "Plus, my dad's in New York ironing out the final details of another acquisition."

  The intercom dings. "Davis here, our ETA is eight minutes."

  Jett stands and stretches. "Back to work."

  On the way to the cockpit, he turns back. "This girl must really be something to have tamed the untamable Carter Brooks."

  I just grin at him, like the pansy I've turned into.

  "That bad, huh?"

  "No. It's that good," I reply, downing my drink. At least, I hope.

  Chapter 12

  Camilla

  Sunday 4:03 p.m.

  Me: Getting ready to take off.

  Me: Ferris's plane is taking us home. It's incredible.

  Me: Never flown private. We flew first class on the way, but since we're taking Daisy's dress back with us, we got the jet.

  Me: Okay, so I'll stop rambling. Takeoffs always make me a little edgy.

  Me: At least if something goes wrong, we won't starve. Bea brought half of what you sent this morning, in her bag.

  Me: Powering down. XoXo

  ********

  "I think that's everything," Bea huffs out after we lug all her camera equipment up the stairs to her studio.

  "I would hurt someone for a latte right about now," I inform her, falling back onto the vintage sofa.

  "What a weekend." She crashes down next to me. "Successful wedding, amazing venue, private plane, gourmet chocolate buffet for breakfast. Oh, yeah, and you screwing a wedding guest."

  "Don't be a bitch." I smack her arm with as much strength as I can muster.

  "Truth hurts," she teases. "All kidding aside, regardless of what happens with this guy, I'm glad to see you get back out there."

  I grab her hand, holding it in mine, and we sit in silence, both probably thinking the same thing, but neither of us saying it. Bea knows everything that went down with my crazy ex. I was young and alone, still hurting from the loss of my parents and wanting to be loved. He seemed to have it all—a family, looks, popularity. But what I thought was love turned to jealousy. Then the jealousy turned to accusing, lying, cheating, fighting. Then came the obsessing, controlling, stalking.

  Two years of living under his thumb, until Bea and I met and she saw him for what he was—saw me for who I really was and helped me break it off. Since then, I haven’t let anyone in.

  "Enough Lifetime movie chitchat. We need to lock up and get home." She always jokes, but, deep down, she's a big softy.

  "Carry me downstairs and the name calling will be forgiven," I negotiate.

  "Yeah, it's not name calling if it's true. Last one down buys coffee!" She jumps up, and I race after her. Nothing to get me moving like the mention of free coffee.

  Sunday 8:38 p.m.

  Carter: Hey, gorgeous. Hope you arrived home safe by now. Sorry I missed your messages. I was in meetings.

  Me: It's okay. We've been home for about an hour or so. Dropped stuff off at the shop and grabbed some dinner. Bea is sound asleep and I'm just laying here. Need to unpack, but I'm exhausted. How about you?

  Carter: I'm pretty tired myself. Some hot brunette made me her sex slave last night and force fed me chocolate cake.

  Me: Sounds kinky! Chocolate, yum.

  Carter: It was. But I'd gladly give up more sleep for another round.

  Me: How can you be so sure she's down for that? Little sure of yourself?

  Carter: I know she's down. Bet she's even wearing my old college shirt, longing for me.

  How could he possible know?

  Carter: Am I right?

  Me: I'll bite. How did you know?

  Carter: I hope you don't bite. Lol. Bea told me—showed me actually.

  Me: Um…?

  Carter: She sent me a picture of you wearing it, asleep on the plane.

  Me: I'm gonna kill her!

  Bea and that damn camera phone. I shake my head.

  Carter: It's my screensaver.

  Me: Liar! Lol.

  Carter: You're right. It's the other one of you sleeping.

  Me: Oh, so you like me better asleep?

  Carter: I like you very much awake.

  Me: Too bad. I think I'm about to crash.

  Yawning, I snuggle back into the bed.

  Carter: Talk tomorrow?

  Me: Yes! Looking forward to it.

  Carter: Goodnight, gorgeous!

  Me: Night! X

  Chapter 13

  Camilla

  Tuesday, I arrive at the shop extra early, excited to dig into new ideas I've been toying with. Yesterday, we went to visit Mona and showed her some of the images Bea captured at the wedding. Seeing her face and knowing she was proud of not just her niece, but me as well, meant the world to me. The creak of footsteps on the stairs catches my attention.

  "Wow, look at who’s an early bird today. I'm gonna go down to Lexi's and grab a coffee, you want anything?" Bea pops her head in the back room where I'm working on Daisy's gown for the I Do! Magazine spread.

  "Like you had to ask?" I laugh. "I'll take the usual."

  "Luke warm raspberry mocha with skim and a whole chocolate cake coming right up," she jokes.

  "Wow, your bitch is showing again," I throw back as she walks out the door, laughing.

  “Oh, by the way, this came in the mail today.” She sets a thank you card on the table, and I lift it up to see a photo of the smiling newlyweds, Jason and Cara Strathman. Another beautiful wedding success, this one from this past May. Life is good.

  This is my happy place. Spotify Chill List on, a table full of dress sketches, and a breathtaking gown on the mannequin in front of me.

  Vibrating interrupts my music, and I snatch up my phone.

  "Carter, good morning," I practically purr.

  "Morning, gorgeous." His voice is so sexy. I push back from the table and walk around, stretching my legs. "How's it going?"

  "Really great, actually. How about you? Things okay there?" He never really explained what's going on, but there's so much we haven't had the opportunity to share, I try not to overthink it.

  His heavy sigh worries me. "It could be going better, but it'll get there. Enough about me. I have about ten minutes before my meetings and wanted to hear your voice—needed to hear your voice. So, talk to me. Tell me anything."

  "Anything," I tease, but I'm really dying to fill him in on what's going on here.

  "Cute," he laughs. "Keep going."

  "Okay, but remember you asked. My first solo event was a success. The shop voicemail was full of inquiries from people who either attended the Hampton wedding, or saw the coverage on social media. This is huge for us, both Enchanted and Bea's studio. It's only been three days and word is spreading. One call I got mentioned they would like to drop in this week for a consult! Can you believe it?" I gasp, taking a breath.

  "Mona is home recovering, but she's eager to be back. And I'm eager to learn from her. She has an amazing reputation, but after these past few weeks, I feel like I'm truly part of this shop. I'm invested in its success and have so many ideas about marketing and maximizing social media outlets. We wanna grow, but keep our exclusivity." I slow to a stop, suddenly self-conscious of my rambling.

  "That's incredible, babe! I’m proud of you! I can't wait t
o see some of your designs. I'm so glad it was a success. The weekend was a victory for me as well."

  "Do tell."

  "See, I met this smart-mouthed, sexy little vixen disguised as a wedding crasher. We got off on the wrong foot, then she seduced me with her dance moves and chocolate cake." His description of our meeting makes me weak in the knees as tingling starts low in my belly.

  "Sounds like a smart lady," I advise him. "I hope the story has a happy ending."

  "I'll let you know. The story is just beginning. I had to leave her sleeping in my bed, and I want to make it up to her."

  "Well, you mentioned she likes cake. That's always a good peace offering," I say, playing along.

  "Cake you say? How would she feel about eating cake in Monterey this weekend?" My lips turn up in the biggest smile. He can't be serious? Once again, he's left me speechless.

  "Mila, you there?" he asks, speaking louder.

  "Yeah, I'm here. It's just…wow, Monterey. This weekend. I'll have to see if I can get away." I'm so floored. And nervous. Talking and texting is a safe zone. Seeing him again, I know there will be no going back—not for me anyway.

  "Well, I may have already checked with Bea and she says nothing major is on the books. She also mentioned you really could use a break after all the hours you pulled prepping for the Hampton wedding." Damn Bea and her big mouth.

  "Carter…" I hesitate. I want to say yes. I do.

  "Just say yes. Remember, no overthinking." His soothing voice pulls me under its spell.

  "I'll pick you up at your place. Friday at six. My meeting is about to start. Have a great rest of your day. Text me your address."

  "Okay. Bye, Carter."

  "Bye, Mila."

  I try to get back to work, but my mind reels as I consider his invite.

  "Oh no, I know that look." Bea's voice pulls me from my thoughts.

  "What look?" I reach for my coffee and take a sip, knowing it'll be the perfect temp.

  "That distracted, something-good-is-happening-but-I'm-not-sure-whether-it's-real-or-I-deserve-it look. The same one you had when I told you about this job. When you got into the design program. Shall I continue?" Her ability to call me out scares me.

  "Oh, that look." I slump back in my chair.

  "Spill it," she orders.

  "Well, obviously, you know about him taking me away this weekend to Monterey."

  "Didn't know the location. Now I do. You're welcome. Please go on," she says, her no nonsense look in place.

  "It's not that I'm not dying to see him, it's all I've thought about since I woke up alone, but jet-setting? That's not me."

  "After we got off the phone last night, I told you we did the obligatory family backstory, and we couldn't have had more different backgrounds if we tried. I was a poor Midwest kid, orphaned and stuck in foster care, who happened to inherit an eye for art and land a scholarship. He was born with a silver spoon, grew up with both parents, had multiple homes, Ivy League school…the life he lives, I'm not sure I could ever really fit into it."

  "Enough. Enough! You are not nobody. You're Camilla Lacey, artist by birth, wedding dress designer by choice. You're not an orphan. You have a family—here, with us. And it's not fair to judge him for what he had when you don't want to be judged for what you didn't." She lays it all out. And she's so right.

  Tears prick my eyes and I grab onto her, squeezing as tight as I can.

  "Okay, spider monkey, try to pry yourself off me before my coffee gets cold." She wiggles, and I reluctantly pull away as the jingle of the bell on the door alerts me to someone being in the shop.

  “Welcome to Enchanted, may I help you?” I walk out onto the floor and see a beautiful blonde who could pass for Heidi Klum’s younger sister eyeing the place.

  She doesn’t acknowledge my approach, and I don’t want to startle her and literally scare customers away. I look to Bea, who stands there eating a bagel, shrugging.

  “Good morning, miss," I say, louder. "Can I help you with something?” She turns to look at me and stares for a beat before nearly blinding me with her mega-watt smile.

  “Yes, darling. I’m looking for Mila,” she coos.

  “Well, it’s your lucky day. I’m Mila.” I extend my hand, which she never accepts, giving me a once over. I squirm, a little self-conscious of my black leggings, simple lace top, and nerdy glasses.

  “Seriously, I’m looking for the girl who worked with Daisy Hampton. She's a friend of mine and referred me." She's a little cold, but a lot of old money types can be. My mind drifts to Carter, but I can't imagine he would be. "Camilla Lacey?"

  "One in the same. Lovely to meet you, and I must say I'm honored my reputation precedes me." I clasp my hands behind my back.

  "It certainly does." She smiles. "You certainly look different than I expected."

  I blink in confusion.

  "Were you a guest at the wedding?" I ask as Bea covers a giggle up with a cough.

  "I was supposed to be, but I was on location. I'm an actress. Unfortunately, my schedule didn’t allow me the chance to get away."

  "Of course." I smile. "Well, now that you're here, what can I do for you?"

  "I'm engaged, and after I saw a photo of Daisy's gown, I just had to drop in and see if you might be able to fit me in?" She waves her hand, showing off a gaudy rock. Not sure how I missed that before.

  "Sure, uh…miss…?"

  "Amber. My name is Amber Edwards."

  "Congratulations, Amber. First, let's check to see if we have your date available. What were you thinking?" I ask, a part of me hoping we're booked. I can't imagine what it would be like creating her dream gown.

  "That's the tricky part. The groom is so busy with work—he's married to his job really—pinpointing a date is challenging." She leans in to whisper, "Plus, I'm expecting," she rests her hand across her perfectly flat belly, "and I'd really rather not be fat when I get married."

  "Well, looks like additional congrats are in order." I try to keep my reaction to her crudeness to myself. "Let's look at some ideas and get your measurements. Not having a set date helps. It gives us some flexibility on timeline. A dress from scratch could take up to three months, or we can alter a sample dress," I explain, leading her to a table with sample books.

  "Let's get a couple things straight here, Mila. Money is no object, so I'll get what I want and pay whatever it costs. I will not be wearing a sample dress, altered or not. I'll be wearing an original design, just like Daisy."

  "Absolutely, Ms. Edwards." I hand her a book to look through.

  "Oh, please, call me Amber. No need for such formality. We’re gonna be great friends." She smiles that toothy smile at me again, and I shiver. It's like Jack Nicholson from The Shining.

  "Take a look through these books and see what you think. Here's a notepad. Just place sticky’s on the ones that fit your style. Can we get you anything?"

  "Do you have room temperature bottled spring water?" she asks.

  "I'm sorry. I don't think so."

  "Then no."

  I make my way to the desk to stand by Bea, who mouths, "Bridezilla."

  "Yeah, times a million," I whisper. "What about this weekend?"

  "What about it?" she counters.

  "I can't go to Monterey if I have to rush this design."

  "Monterey is so lovely this time of year," Amber says as she walks toward the counter. "Are you planning a girls’ weekend? I can recommend a lovely spa."

  "Actually," Bea speaks up, "she's going with her boyfriend. Surprise getaway. He does love to pamper her."

  This seems to piss her off.

  "How charming. I'll be in town a couple days and I've marked the ones I really like. I think three sketch options should be a sufficient start. I also left my card info, in case you need a deposit. And my measurements are on the note. As an actress, I have fittings all the time. Ciao, ladies!" Like a tornado, she breezes out.

  "You can't seriously be considering taking her business," Bea gasps. "She
was a royal beotch."

  "What, it’s not like we can turn it down. And you heard her. She's an actress—that means more publicity for Mona and Enchanted."

  "I hate when you're right," Bea grumbles.

  "Hey, maybe she needs a photographer," I suggest, just to mess with her.

  "You wouldn't dare!" She scowls.

  "Why should I have all the fun?" I laugh.

  "I think you've been hanging with me too long. The crazy is contagious," she kids.

  "I guess I better get started on these sketches." Grabbing my breakfast, I head to the back.

  "Yes, you do that, darling," she calls after me in her best snooty voice.

  Chapter 14

  Carter

  Entering my condo, I throw the keys on the counter. After sitting in a hotel on and off for the past few days, I'm agitated and ready to stretch out in my own bed.

  Convincing AJ's father to take the new deal was way more difficult than we anticipated, but after stalling and wasting everyone's time, he finally saw things our way. Thankfully, Jett kept me busy playing poker, even if he did clean me out a few times.

  I climb the stairs, wanting to hit the shower before I crash. It's nearly midnight, but I send Mila a quick text to let her know I'm home and see if she's excited about our date this weekend.

  Extravagant? Probably. Sudden? Maybe. But after hearing about her life, she deserves to be pampered and more. I'm just lucky enough to be in a position to give it to her.

  I turn the water on and strip down before stepping into the shower, our messages replaying in my mind. Getting to know each other, hearing about her day…it's like a crash course in dating meets twenty questions, twenty-first century edition. But nothing compares to hearing her voice. I'm hard just thinking about her. Steam rises around me and I palm myself, needing this release. The memory of her laughing, her cocky mouth and breathless moan as she comes for me takes me over the edge. I finish quickly, and exit the shower, anxious for sleep.

  Hitting the light, I climb into bed, and my phone lands on the nightstand with a thud. Ahhh. The only thing better than this would be if Mila was here, tangled up with me.