“Surprise me.” He mixed the ingredients for crepes and poured the batter onto a sizzling cast iron pan. Over the hissing and popping butter, he first heard her giggle and then a twangy guitar riff from the speaker. He raised his eyebrows at her. “Country?”

  “I don’t have any obscure hipster stuff.”

  “What makes you think I’m a hipster?” He pulled an antique manual beater from a hook on the wall and started whirring the latest batch of whipped cream.

  “The hair, the beard, the suspenders.” She came up behind him. “The tiny home, the aversion to modern-day appliances…” She stuck her finger in the bowl.

  “Careful…” he lifted the beater out of the bowl, his fingers gripping the handle for the wheel. “These old ones have claimed many a finger.”

  She stuck her finger in her mouth, her pink lips pursed around her finger. Charlie had to look away, squeezing his eyes tightly to rid the image of a part of him in that rosebud mouth of hers. Johnny Cash’s voice filled the room and Charlie sang into the beater along with the lyrics. “Would a hipster know the words to this song?” he asked.

  “Maybe ironically,” she giggled. “Do you actually like country music?”

  “I live in Chance Rapids. It sneaks up on you until you’re singing along to every song on the radio. And, I started the suspender thing years ago. And the beard…” he rubbed his chin, the scar camouflaged beneath the thick beard. “I ‘ve had it for years too.”

  “Those smell amazing,” Emma said.

  “Shit,” Charlie turned and grabbed a spatula from the pottery holder on the counter, flipping the crepe just in time. The sun filtered in through the tea towel curtains while the coffee percolator gurgled on the stove, and the most beautiful woman he’d ever met was humming along to Johnny Cash at his side. Could this really be happening to him? He leaned over and kissed Emma’s cheek. “Thanks for coming over.”

  “Thanks for inviting me.” She squeezed his waist. “This place is amazing.”

  She had no idea how much that statement meant to him. He felt a surge of adrenaline rush through his body and had to steady himself against the counter. He loved her. He knew it in that second.

  “Are you okay?” she squeezed him tighter.

  He was terrified. “I’m fine, but maybe I’m a little hungover,” he said.

  “Let me get you some water.” She took a mason jar from the open shelves and filled it from the tap.

  “Thanks.” He took a sip. “Emma, I have to tell you something.”

  She put her hands on her hips and leaned against the counter. “Ooookay.”

  “It’s not bad.” He set the glass down on the counter.

  I love you. He said in his head, but there was no way he was letting those words slip out – not yet anyway. “I feel like I know you. Or, I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, it’s so weird. The first day you walked into the job site, I felt like I had seen you before.”

  Her brow was knitted. She obviously didn’t feel the same way. “Maybe I have a twin,” she shrugged. “I’ve never been to Chance Rapids, and I’m pretty sure I would remember if I had seen you somewhere,” she tugged at the belt loop of his pants.

  “Yeah, maybe you have a twin,” Charlie agreed. Emma was right, if he had met her, there’s no way he could’ve ever forgotten her - she confirmed that they never met, but the nagging feeling remained. He plated the crepes and pulled out a bottle of maple syrup from the tiny propane fridge.

  “Rum?” she asked, eyeing the bottle.

  “It’s maple syrup,” he laughed. My brother makes it from his bush lot in Vermont, I guess he ran out of plain bottles. He flipped down the folding table and set out a stool for Emma and himself.

  Charlie watched as Emma devoured the plate of crepes. For such a tiny woman, she sure had a voracious appetite – and he loved watching her eat. “You have used the space here really well.” She pushed the empty plate away from her and dabbed the side of her mouth with the cloth napkin.

  Visiting a home like this was one thing, and Emma sure looked at home in his space. “Do you think you could live like this?”

  “What? Like in the middle of nowhere, or in a micro-home?”

  “Tiny,” he corrected. “And, both, I guess.”

  She looked around the space and he could see her eyes taking in everything as she contemplated her answer. “I would want a real door,” she said firmly. “You know, to stop the bears from coming in.”

  Charlie laughed as he took a sip of his coffee. “That’s next on my list.”

  “And a flower garden,” she looked out the window. “I’ve always dreamt about growing my own flowers for the shop.”

  “I have hops,” Charlie pointed. “Just on the other side of that hill.”

  She turned from the window slowly, “You are incredible, Charlie. I’ve never met anyone like you.” Her eyes shimmered.

  Don’t cry, Charlie whispered to himself. He couldn’t handle it when women cried. He had seen far too many tears growing up. Deflect, deflect. “Someone who lives in a shoebox in the woods?” he stood up and cleared the plates from the table.

  “I’m serious, Charlie. Let’s not fuck this up.” She smiled, the tears were gone and there was a wildness to her eyes. “I think I have time for a tour of the loft before we have to get to work.”

  The dishes clattered as Charlie chucked them into the sink and grabbed Emma’s hand. His other hand was already on the curved iron railing when his phone buzzed on the counter.

  “Do you need to get that?” Emma asked.

  Charlie didn’t want to, but it was strange to be getting a call that early in the morning. “Nah,” he said and continued up the stairs, but the caller was persistent, and the phone rang again.

  “Maybe you should see who it is. What if our buildings are burning down?” She let out a weak laugh, and Charlie knew she was joking, but with all of the construction, a fire wouldn’t be out of the ordinary.

  “Meet me up there,” Charlie squeezed past Emma and in two steps was at his phone. She paused and waited.

  “It’s my brother,” Charlie said. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “He never calls.”

  “You should probably answer it then.” Emma smoothed her t-shirt and slipped into her shoes. “I can wait outside if you want.” The phone continued to buzz in Charlie’s hand.

  “It’s okay.” He jabbed at the screen and answered.

  He didn’t know if Emma could hear Jason’s side of the conversation, so he smiled and nodded while he spoke, so she would know that there hadn’t been any deaths in the family. He hung up the phone.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I guess I forgot to RSVP to our friend’s wedding,” he laughed. My brother is the best man and I guess it was his job to find out if I want the chicken or the fish.

  “And…” she smiled.

  “What would you prefer?” He said, and then quickly added. “Although it’s not chicken or fish, it’s Beef Wellington or some veggie thing.”

  “Me?” Emma said.

  “I’m going to need a date,” Charlie smiled. “It’s here in town, in a few weeks.”

  Charlie couldn’t believe how nervous he was, and when Emma didn’t respond right away, he felt ridiculous. “I mean, I know it’s too soon for something like that,” he turned and ran the water over the syrupy plates.

  “Beef Wellington,” Emma said, and then she was right beside him with a tea towel in her hand. “I’d like the Beef Wellington.”

  Charlie turned off the tap and took the tea towel from her hand. “These dishes can fucking wait.” Then Emma squealed as he tossed her over his shoulder and hustled up the winding stairs.

  Eight

  Emma winced as she bent to pull a paint can from the bottom shelf in the storage room. She was tired and sore from her ‘breakfast’ at Charlie’s. Having mind-blowing sex three times in the past twenty-four hours left her feeling the good kind of sore. She heard hammers banging on the other side of the wall and even the imagery of Charlie’s strong biceps wielding a hammer made her want to rush next door to make it four. She banged on their shared wall. “Keep it down.”

  The hammer on the other side knocked out ‘the shave and a haircut’ rhythm and Emma sat down on the floor and smiled. Six months ago, everything had fallen apart, and if she knew the joy and excitement that was waiting for her in Chance Rapids, she would’ve gone through the heartache of losing her fiancé and best friend ten times over. She was starting her own business, doing something she loved, and had met the most amazing man. She had grown closer to Serena and already felt like she was a truer friend than Alison had ever been.

  Alison had only denied the affair for about thirty seconds until Emma tossed the sock she had found in her bed at her ‘best friend’.

  “We’re in love,” Alison had said calmly.

  “For how long?” Emma had stammered.

  “Em.” Her eyes looked sad at first, and then Emma realized that it was only pity she was seeing, not regret, or shame, or sadness.

  “How long?” she repeated through gritted teeth.

  “A year.” She hadn’t apologized, she just set the sock down on her kitchen counter. The words hit Emma like a sucker punch to the gut. That meant that Adam had been sleeping with her best friend when he proposed. Emma had been too in shock to do anything. She had run from Alison’s apartment and packed her bags that day. As the ice storm battered the windows of her townhome, Emma took one last look around the cookie-cutter room and wondered why the two people who were supposed to love her the most, had betrayed her. She rolled the velvet ring box around in her hand and then set it on the dresser.

  She rolled her suitcase out of the bedroom, flicking the framed photos off the wall as she walked by. The photo of the day Adam proposed cracked as it hit the carpeted floor and she crunched the glass with her shoe. Adam was going to have a fit when he saw the dirty boot prints throughout the pristine home. In the photo, she was staring adoringly at him while he held his arm out to take their picture. She stamped on the photo and ground her heel on his face, tearing the paper. “Fuck you, Adam.” She rushed into the bedroom and stuffed the ring box in her pocket. It represented a lie. Fraud. But he had given it to her. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. It was hers.

  As Emma looked around the flower shop that the diamond had bought, she didn’t feel bad at all. He had defrauded her – that ring, that proposal had meant nothing to him.

  She heard a knock from the front of the building, banged on the wall one more time, picked up the paint can and tray, and made her way through her bright freshly drywalled store. Charlotte and someone she didn’t know was peering through the gaps in the butcher paper she had taped to the window.

  “Hi, Charlotte,” Emma unlocked the door and stepped aside, gesturing for the duo to come in.

  “Emma, this is Jennifer, the wedding planner I was telling you about.”

  “Hi, Jennifer.” Emma set down the tray, brushed her hands off on her paint-stained jeans, and shook her hand.

  “It’s Jenni,” the girl smiled. Next to Charlotte’s leather leggings and expertly tailored blazer Jenni’s boho vibe was amplified. She was wearing high waisted jean shorts and a floral blouse, her sandy blond hair cascading down from beneath her camel-colored Brixton hat.

  “It’s coming along nicely.” Charlotte’s gaze traveled around the room. “And the floor looks amazing.” Charlotte had been the one to suggest pulling up the dingy carpet, discovering a gorgeous, well-worn maple hardwood floor.

  “It took a while to refinish, but I love the look.” Emma kicked at the floor with the toe of her Converse. Underneath their feet, the floor gleamed with a satin finish varathane stain. “The flooring guy told me that it will be bulletproof now.”

  “When do you expect to open?” Jenni asked.

  “I’ve got my first order of flowers coming the day after tomorrow.” Even as she said the words, she felt panic rising. Instead of spending the morning in Charlie’s loft, she should’ve been painting and prepping. “I’m going to have a soft opening on Saturday, and then a grand opening a week later.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” Charlotte smiled. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

  “I know,” Emma inhaled, the enormity of what she had to achieve this week hitting hard. “I’ll get it done,” she said it as much to assure Charlotte and Jenni as herself.

  Jenni handed Emma a stack of business cards. “I know we haven’t worked together yet, but I have the feeling we’re going to know each other well by the end of the season.”

  “Season?” Emma asked.

  “Wedding season. Jenni is the only wedding planner in Chance Rapids,” Charlotte said.

  “Thanks,” Emma took the stack of cards. “I’ll also order some business cards today.” She had forgotten about the business cards. Just when she felt like she was getting on top of the to-do list, it seemed to grow jaws and devour her.

  “It looks like you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, but I’ve had a bit of an emergency come up,” Jenni said.

  “Oh? What’s that?” Emma didn’t have the time to take on anything else, but she also couldn’t afford to give up any business that was falling right into her lap. Having a good relationship with Jenni was going to be mutually advantageous for both of them.

  “There’s a wedding coming up, and the florist in Windswan has had a death in the family. She’s not going to be able to do the flowers. Would you be able to help?”

  “Of course,” Emma said. “I’d love to help. Wait… when is it?” she laughed.

  “It’s at the end of the month.”

  “Totally doable,” Emma breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll just have to check with my suppliers. Do you have the details of the arrangements?”

  “I do,” Emma opened up the giant leather binder she had clasped to her chest and pulled out a glossy pink file folder.

  Charlotte squeezed Emma’s forearm. “I’m going to leave you two to this. I’m glad you can help each other out.”

  Emma glanced at Charlotte and a wave of gratitude washed over her, “Thank you, Charlotte. For everything.”

  Charlotte smiled and looked like she was about to say something but was interrupted by the ringing of her phone. She held up her index finger, mouthed ‘bye’, and waved as she barked “Charlotte O’Hare,” into her phone.

  Emma turned back to Jenni. “I don’t know how that woman does it.”

  “She’s pretty amazing,” Jenni agreed. “I remember seeing her billboards when I lived in the city. When I met her, I was kind of star-struck.”

  Emma felt an instant camaraderie with Jenni. “Me too,” she confided. “I was nervous. I thought she’d be a total bitch.”

  “Right?!” Jenni gushed. “Oh my god. I’m glad I wasn’t the only one.”

  Emma’s comfort level only rose as the two of them sat at her worktable and got to know each other. They were the same age and had both lived in the city. Jenni had moved to Chance Rapids six months before Emma, so they were both new ‘city girl’ transplants.

  “What made you pick Chance Rapids?” Emma asked.

  “This.” Jenni opened the file folder and the same bridal magazine article that Emma had read was torn and stapled to the corner of the folder. “A new client requested to have her wedding here.” Jenni pointed to the picture of the gorgeous bride and groom standing in front of an arbor dwarfed by the mountain peaks. “I was going to refer her to someone here, but after doing some digging I found out that there isn’t a wedding planner in town – and after this article, I knew that every bride was going to want to have her wedding here.

  “That’s crazy,” Emma said.

  “You think?” Jenni’s eyes were wide. She had misinterpreted Emma’s shock at the coincidence.

  “This article. That’s what brought me here too,” She smiled and tapped her finger on the glossy paper. Could this day get any more perfect? Emma had made a new friend and could add a wedding planner contact to her growing list of pros for Chance Rapids. So far there weren’t any ‘cons.’

  Jenni’s eyes grew even wider. “Really? Emma, this might sound weird, but can I hug you?”

  “It does sound weird, and yes!” Emma laughed and the women embraced in a friendly hug. “I can’t believe how everything is falling into place,” Emma said.

  “I felt the same way when I moved here. Chance Rapids is a magical place,” Jenni gushed.

  Emma’s eyes caught the glossy photograph of the bridal bouquet in the folder. She pulled the picture out and traced her fingers over the peony arrangement. “Pink peonies?”

  “Pale pink with roses the same shade.” Jenni fanned through more photos and showed Emma the examples.

  Emma kept it to herself, but she knew that she was going to nail this wedding. The stars had aligned, and somehow, this bride had chosen the exact arrangements she had wanted for her own wedding. “I’ll have to see if I can get these ordered in time.” Emma’s mind was already racing, this bride’s vision was one that she could totally ace.

  “No need,” Jenni said. “The Windswan florist has already ordered them and is going to have them shipped here.” She paused. “If you’re interested.”

  Emma couldn’t contain her grin. “I’ll do it, and Jenni…” she paused. “It’s going to be perfect.”

  “Thank you, Emma,” Jenni laid out the rest of the photos. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “Where is the ceremony?” Emma took out her notebook and jotted down some notes about the arrangements. “It’s at the top of Sugar Peak. The reception will be at the ski lodge.”

  “Wait. What day is this again?” The day had been full of coincidences. Could this be the wedding she had just been invited to attend with Charlie?

  “It’s the 29th.”

  Emma flipped to her calendar and scribbled Sugar Peaks' wedding on the 29th. “I have something important to ask you.” Her voice was serious.