“Lily, what are you doing? You need a vacation.”
“It’ll have to wait.”
“Even so, how on earth can you possibly squeeze in another event?”
“We’ll manage.”
“This is not doable. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now. We’re forty-eight hours out in Brussels. Three weeks in Los Angeles. Six in Geneva and Aruba.” Mara paused to exhale an exasperated breath. “You’ve got four more events in production right behind those and that lineup doesn’t include my office, which you well know operates like the redheaded stepchild.”
A rather witty comment as Mara was a tried-and-true redhead—freckles and all. But the pressure Lily suddenly felt precluded humor.
“I know. And I refused. Everyone ganged up on me. It would have taken the Jets’ defensive line to stop them.” The muscle under her left eye twitched. “But what do you mean you read about it on the internet? Where?”
“The All About Angel blog.”
How could a day go south so fast? “You. Are. Kidding. Me.”
“Not kidding. Log on and read it for yourself if you must, but that would be an unpleasant way to start the morning. And you’ve got unpleasantries that takes precedence, I’m afraid. There are some unhappy media outlets at the moment. You promised an exclusive. I followed up last night by assuring they’d get one.”
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. Several have already read the bogus blogger and word’s getting around fast, apparently. My inbox was practically smoking when I logged on this morning.”
Lily rubbed at the twitching muscle. “Let me check something and call you back.”
She had no clue what Max’s typical morning schedule might look like beyond knowing he had to get Madeleine off to school. If it was a little early for him…well, he could lose some sleep. She certainly would because of this big wedding he’d dropped in her lap.
Scrolling through the contacts on her phone, she found his number.
He answered quickly. “Lily Susan.” His voice soft and gravelly, a morning voice.
“Good morning, Max. I’ve got a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“After you left here, did you speak with your mother last night about your brother-in-law’s wedding?”
“No. I didn’t actually see her last night. She and my father had some sort of engagement that kept them out late. How come?”
Lily frowned. That wasn’t what she’d expected at all. But she couldn’t imagine why he’d lie when he’d been so blunt with his opinions.
The prodigal, indeed.
“The All About Angel blogger somehow knows I’ve confirmed for your wedding.”
“You thought I jumped on the exclusive?” He sounded offended.
“That seemed the most likely way for the news to get out. I mean, your mother thought I’d already agreed. I wonder where she could have gotten that idea?”
The cad didn’t even bother defending himself. “Did you agree?”
She wanted to say no, simply because he was irking her. “I agreed.”
“I thank you, then.” That voice rippled through all her still-sleepy places without permission. “I know you wanted to relax on this trip, and you will. Like your mom said yesterday, you’ll have help. You have my word that I’ll pitch in any way I can.”
“Oh, you will, and I’ll need help. Lots and lots of it. Be forewarned.”
“Not a problem.” There was a chuckle in there. “And for the record, I would not jump on an exclusive, even if I had spoken with my mother last night. But I didn’t know you’d agreed. I can prove it—”
“You don’t have to prove anything, Max. I don’t think you’re a liar for the record. Merely pushy. And I can’t figure out what’s going on. Two days in a row, I’ve got personal information going public without my knowledge or consent.”
“That is disturbing. Any ideas?”
“No clue. I didn’t tell anyone.” Because she was still in denial over being outmaneuvered so handily. She’d wanted to savor the first night of her vacation in peace. “My assistant in Manhattan doesn’t have a clue. The last he heard, we’d put the inquiry on top of the pile for the next review meeting. And I didn’t even talk to my office manager here after I confirmed with your mother.”
“Could the blogger be speculating? You’ve said yourself that their information isn’t accurate.”
“But how would the blogger even know about the wedding? Unless he or she was at the airport yesterday when you announced— Damn it.” She practically growled. “It’s in the news. The press might not know whether or not I was planning the wedding, but they knew I was considering it.”
There was silence for so long that suddenly Lily knew without a shred of doubt where she’d find the first headline.
“You didn’t.” Not a question.
“Well, it is news.” He didn’t sound in the least bit repentant. “Big news.”
“Max, you knew I was trying to lay low—”
“Excuse me, got to run. I hear Madeleine.”
Before the call disconnected, she could hear his throaty laughter.
Argh!
Her feet hit the floor and slid right into the slippers perched beside the bed. She snatched her robe off the poster and thrust her arms into the sleeves while heading out the door. With the bulk of her life spent traveling, her wardrobe was public ready. Hotels. Rentals. Recreational vehicles. Whatever. She’d long ago established routines to make temporary housing comfortable, which meant being always prepared to meet people.
The shadowy house in the quiet predawn felt vaguely familiar as she descended the stairs with the phone cradled against her ear. Another lifetime. She bypassed the front door because the telltale clinking of china let her know someone was awake. She found her dad at the kitchen table.
No surprises here. He’d always been an early riser, preferring a leisurely awakening over coffee and the newspaper before heading to the hardware store. Her mother had probably set up the coffeepot last night before she went to bed, so the brew would be ready by the time he’d gotten the paper from the yard and settled at the table. A once-familiar routine.
“You made the front page,” he informed her without glancing away from the sports section.
How he knew it was her was another question. Lily had long ago accepted Dad had a sixth sense when it came to his kids. Her and Mike, anyway. They were later-in-life blessings, as her mother always called them, which meant her dad had gotten a head start with parenting her siblings. He’d been tough to put one over on.
“I knew it,” she said when he handed her a section of the paper. Only in Pleasant Valley would I be front page news. In the civilized world, I’m relegated to local and society pages, and that’s fine by me.
She reassembled the mess her dad had made of the newspaper enough to find the front page. The headline read:
Extreme Romance Hits Hudson Valley
She scanned the article. Title aside, which made Worldwide