She walked into her mother’s office and took a seat to prepare for her only appointment of the day. She was about to meet with the chief security officer for the upcoming pricey wedding of Senator Rick Vandeveld’s oldest daughter. Shelby had organized her special day with Kimberly’s mother months ago. Now they should be able to tweak minor details and put the plan in motion.
Simple, really.
A photo of her parents sat centered on her mother’s desk. Her mother smiled at the camera in typical friendly fashion. Her police chief father ignored the camera and smiled down at his wife, showing his priorities clearly. He didn’t care what others thought.
He cared about his wife.
Staid and solid, in the daily uniform he wore with pride, her father had dedicated decades to the Grace Haven force, an honest cop that bled New York blue even after losing his only son to the uniform more than ten years ago. Pete Gallagher was in the fight of his life right now, with his wife by his side, and anything Kimberly and her sisters could do to make that easier was an honor.
If they didn’t kill one another first.
A soft melodic chime said her appointment had just walked into the reception area.
Dread poked Kimberly’s midsection. It wasn’t the logistics of working Shelby’s wedding that bothered her. It was the fairy-tale headline of Future President’s Daughter Weds Country Star, when Kimberly should have been planning her own wedding, her reception, her happy-ever-after.
That had turned into an epic fail, so today she was handling someone else’s shot at the gold ring. A bride, a groom, a hillside vineyard, a grotto and a sprawling palatial inn overlooking the beauty of Canandaigua Lake.
Envy snaked a cool thread up her spine.
She forced it down and stood as Allison, her mother’s senior assistant, opened the door. Kimberly rounded the desk, turned and came face-to-face with the last person she expected to see back in the Finger Lakes region of upstate New York. The guy who’d lost a partner—her brother—in a sting operation gone bad more than a decade ago.
He stared at her, and the majestic German shepherd walking at his side stared, too.
She stopped, her eyes glued to his, wondering how this could have happened. Hazel eyes, more somber than they used to be. Dark hair, wavy, cut short. Tall enough to make her look up, even in three-inch heels. Her heart went silent. The tips of her fingers buzzed. And if respiration was governed by an autonomous system, why couldn’t she draw a breath?
Andrew Slade breathed first. “When I spoke with your mother on the phone a few weeks ago, you were a bigwig events planner for a successful Nashville record label. What are you doing here?”
A simple enough question to answer in the middle of a convoluted moment. She inhaled, then exhaled to calm her nerves. “Financial restructuring meant downsizing.”
“They fired you?”
He had the nerve to look indignant, as if what happened to others mattered to him. Kimberly knew better. “They’re on a temporary bare-bones budget, but yes.” She kept her gaze cool despite the fact that his look of indignation felt good. She’d worked long and hard at STAC Records, a hot country label that had hit the wall mid-June. The firm’s plan was to hire her back once they’d resolved the books, but in the meantime she was here, facing a man who’d stirred her heart and then her anger many years ago.
“Although the timing is good.” Drew glanced around the office, then at her mother’s chair. “Listen, Kimber, I know this is awkward.”
Nailed it!
“And I’m the last person you expected to see walk through the door.”
Two for two, the guy is on a roll.
He put an easy hand on the dog’s head. “If you’d rather have Emily handle this, I understand completely.”
Her younger sister Emily take charge of a top-tier event like this? Talk about a free fall into catastrophe. “You can’t be serious.”
His expression said he was quite serious. None of the old laugh lines she knew—and liked so well when she was a love-struck teen, crushing on the guy before her—were in evidence now.
“There’s no way that Em—”
Fury erupted beyond the door.
Drew turned, instantly on guard. So did his dog, hackles raised, shoulders up, head strained.
Mags, her mother’s eight-pound Yorkshire terrier, launched into her yipping and yapping, the normally well-behaved pooch streaked across the reception room carpet, feet and fur flying, and when she crested Kate’s glassed-in office door, she braced her front paws, bared her teeth and gave a fairly convincing growl, as if the difference in height, weight, training and attitude between her and the impressive K-9 wasn’t ridiculously obvious.
“Mags!” Kimberly’s sister Emily chased after the dog. “You bad puppy, this is what we get because Mom spoiled you.” She reached down, picked up the dust-mop dog, then stood. “Drew?” She stepped forward to greet their childhood friend, then gave a dramatic pause, gaze pinned to the bigger dog between them. “Will he eat me? Or her?” She angled a look to the little dog in her arms. The Yorkie rewarded her with quick kisses to the cheek.
“Her, possibly.” Drew looked at Mags. “You? Only if I issue the command, and I’m feeling altruistic today. We’ve declared beauty queens to be non–life threatening in most instances.”
“Former beauty queen,” she reminded him, and then gave him a hug. “It’s nice to have you home, Drew.”
Kimberly’s heart tightened.
So did Drew’s face. “It’s where the job brought me. I was just telling Kimberly that if you’d rather handle Shelby’s wedding, we’d be fine with that.”
Emily’s look of fear was only half in jest. “Not in this lifetime. Kimberly gets lead on this, totally. I don’t mind helping out with things, but I’m the schmoozer of the family. When Kimberly steps on toes...”
Kimberly tapped a toe on the floor, unamused.
The toe-tap did nothing to deter the middle Gallagher sister. “I jump in to smooth ruffled feathers, but major events like a presidential candidate’s daughter marrying a country star?” She put her free hand up, palm out. “Out of my league. Kimber takes lead on Shelby’s event while I’m helping her handle the fall regatta, three weddings, several bridal and baby showers, two corporate dinners and a fall festival dinner dance. I consider that a fair trade.”
Kimberly would trade off in a heartbeat if she could, but Emily was right. She’d commanded top dollar in Nashville for putting together major events. To thrust that on Emily would be unfair to her and probably spell disaster for the Vandeveld wedding.
Emily backed toward the door with the Yorkie. “I’m taking Mags upstairs with me so that...?” She raised a brow, silently asking the shepherd’s name.
“Rocky.”
“So Rocky can go the rounds with you guys undisturbed. He’s beautiful, Drew.”
“Thank you.”
The door swung noiselessly shut behind her.
“Well.”
“Well.” He took a seat as Kimberly rounded the desk to her mother’s chair. She opened the portfolio and started to withdraw her mother’s notes. Drew laid one big, strong hand on the portfolio and shook his head.
She raised her eyes, confused. “You don’t want to see the plans?”
“No need because we’re going to change the plans,” he told her, “which means Shelby will most likely hate me. I’m willing to risk it to keep