You Say It First
Page 7

“The man is dead. He doesn’t care one way or another.”
“That’s harsh, even for you.”
“It’s practical.” Libby’s brown eyes snapped with anger. “I absolutely can’t believe this. What is it about you, Pallas? You simply will not do what is expected. You’ve always been this way. Defiant. Stubborn. You get it from your grandfather.”
Something Pallas had heard her whole life. She found it difficult not to roll her eyes. Plus, she really loved Grandpa Frank, so where was the bad?
“So how long do you plan to keep that ridiculous business open?” her mother asked.
“You may not like what I’m doing, Mom, but that doesn’t give you the right to mock Weddings in a Box. It’s a legitimate firm that makes people happy. Even you should see the value in that.”
Libby pressed her lips together. “All right. How long do you plan to work there?”
“I’m not sure. As I said, I have weddings booked through September. I was thinking I would sell it then.” Maybe to Alan, not that he’d ever expressed any interest in owning the company.
“That’s a long way from now. I can’t promise there will be an opening then. Or ever.” Her mother’s stern expression returned. “This may be a one-shot deal, Pallas. Are you willing to give up everything you’ve worked for because of a worthless inheritance?”
And there it was—the Libby-like ultimatum. She shouldn’t be surprised. Or hurt. And yet...
“It’s not worthless to me.” Pallas still remembered how stunned she’d been to find out her boss had left her Weddings in a Box. She’d known they were friends and that he cared about her but to leave her the business—just like that—had been incredible.
“There will be consequences for this decision,” her mother warned.
“There always are.”
She looked at her plate and realized there was no way she was going to be able to eat anything.
“If there’s nothing else, I’m going to go,” Pallas said as she tossed her napkin on the table. “I’m sorry I’ve upset you.”
“You’re mistaken. I’m not upset. I’m disappointed. There’s a difference.”
A familiar one, Pallas thought grimly. Because she’d always been the disappointing child.
“Goodbye, Mom.”
Libby only sighed.
As Pallas walked back to her car she wondered why it was always like this between her mother and herself. No matter the circumstances, they clashed. Libby ended up disappointed and Pallas was left questioning the fact that she continually had to earn her mother’s love. Nothing was freely given. It wasn’t that way for Cade or any of her cousins, but it had always been like that for her. She had no idea why, and was equally clueless on how to get things to change.
CHAPTER THREE
PALLAS WENT THROUGH a fast-food drive-through window on her way back to work. By the time she arrived, she’d finished her double cheeseburger and only had a few fries left. She tossed them in a belated attempt to be virtuous, then took the stairs to her office at a jog. As if that would burn off any excess calories.
“Mothers,” she muttered as she changed from her dress into jeans and a T-shirt. “What was God thinking?”
She tied her tennis shoes, then drew in a breath. She was restored to her regular self. The day would go on as if the unfortunate lunch incident hadn’t occurred. Pallas genuinely didn’t know what to do about Libby’s job offer. She’d earned her degree in finance because it was expected and required to go into the family business. Shouldn’t she be thrilled at the thought of working at the bank? It had always been her dream. Weddings in a Box was hardly making her a fortune. The sensible decision would be to sell it and start living a normal life. Only she just couldn’t seem to do it.
“I’ll decide in September,” she said aloud. “When the season is over. I’ll know what to do.” Assuming there would still be a job waiting with her mother. There was no way to know.
She went downstairs. The ballroom needed a good vacuuming and doing that would probably count as exercise. She would—
She turned the corner and screamed when she saw a man in the hallway.
The intruder turned and morphed into Nick. Pallas pressed a hand to her chest.
“What are you doing here?”
“I work here and have a key.”
Both were true, she told her rapidly thudding heart. “I forgot.”
“Which part?”
“Apparently all of it.”
He flashed her a smile. “Second thoughts on hiring me?”
“Gifted artist willing to restore my sad wooden panels for almost nothing above minimum wage? No second thoughts, although I do worry about your mental state. Not that I’m complaining about it. As long as you fall in the nonthreatening spectrum of crazy, I’m good with it.”
He chuckled. “I told you. I’m between projects and I’m excited to work on the panels. They need some serious love.”
She knew what he meant but had to admit the phrase “serious love” had her thinking of something other than wood restoration. She’d been without that particular brand of maleness for a long time now. Her lifestyle didn’t exactly lend itself to dating. For one thing, she worked weekends. For another, when guys found out she was “in the wedding business” they tended to get nervous.
To distract herself, she thought about how lucky she was that Nick was interested in helping her. What with him being talented and famous. Not that she knew more than the basic information. It wasn’t as if she’d actually seen his work in person. There had been lots of pictures online, but that was different than seeing the real thing. Maybe she should go to Atsuko’s gallery and poke around. Or not. Staring at what he’d created, complete with five-or six-figure price tags, would probably give her a heart attack.
“I came by to figure out what tools to bring with me when I get started tomorrow,” he added.
“You’re going to have to take them down, aren’t you?” She eyed the massive panels. “How is that going to work? And where will you put them?”
“I thought I’d move all the princess wedding props to the Roman wedding prop room and take over that space. My brothers and Alan will help me get the panels down and onto supports.”
“You’ve thought this through.”
“It seemed best to have a plan.” He hesitated. “You okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. You seem upset or something.”
Ack! Having lunch with her mother was starting to leave actual marks. “It’s nothing. Family drama.”
Nick stayed right there in the hallway, as if waiting for her to say more. She told herself to keep quiet, but then belatedly remembered she generally caved under pressure.
“How much do you know about the history of Happily Inc?” she asked as she leaned against the wall.
“I don’t know. It was founded and people moved here?”
She laughed. “Probably. I’m talking more recent history. Say the 1960s.”
“Before my time. Yours, too.”
“But not my grandfather’s.” She drew in a breath. “In the 1960s Happily Inc was struggling. My grandfather on my mother’s side owned a local bank. If the town failed, no one would pay back their loans and he would lose piles and piles of money.”