Chapter 1
Chapter One
STELLA
“ I love this color,” my client, Simone, says with a happy sigh. “And the material is like butter. But will I be able to clean it? I have kids.”
“You’ll be able to take the covers off the cushions and throw them in the wash. Easy-peasy.”
My phone and watch vibrate at the same time. I sneak a peek at my watch and scowl.
Danny, my coworker, has been texting me all day, but I’m in the field with clients, and he knows it.
He’ll have to wait.
“Well, that’ll be a lifesaver,” Simone says. “Yes, on this. Absolutely. That sectional is going to be the bomb.”
“You’ll never want to leave your sofa,” I agree and reach for some wallpaper swatches. “Now, let’s talk about your pantry.”
“I love talking about my pantry.”
I laugh as I turn the pages in my swatch book. “You and me both, sister. Okay, I was thinking this one for the wall opposite the cabinets.”
For the next hour, Simone and I finalize the plans for her remodel, and I carry an armload of sample books and tiles out to my SUV.
“Thank you!” Simone calls out from her porch. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’re more than welcome. I’ll be in touch!”
Simone waves, already tapping on her phone as she walks back inside.
Before I leave, I check my messages.
“Geez, Danny, you’re blowing me up,” I mutter as I shoot him a brief text, letting him know I’ll be in the office late this afternoon, then pull away from the curb to head to my next appointment.
I’ve been an interior designer in Seattle for almost five years, and I’m completely in love with my job. Seeing clients like Simone light up with excitement over their project, whether it’s redecorating one room or building a new house, is the best feeling in the world.
Not all my clients are as easygoing and excited as Simone, though. Some are like my next client, who doesn’t want to participate in the design at all and is very hard to read. I’ve talked with her assistant more than I’ve spoken with her. But the end result is always worth the hassle of the few grouchy and difficult clients I have.
Several hours and two appointments later, I walk through the showroom of Emerald Interiors and smile at customers and colleagues as I make my way back to my office.
I’ve just set my Starbucks cup on my desk and fired up my laptop when Danny comes rushing into my office. He closes the door behind him and holds his phone in the air, his future husband staring at me through the screen.
“Uh, hello there,” I say with a frown. “What’s up, guys?”
“Only a major catastrophe,” Danny says and sits on the edge of the yellow chair across from me. “You remember last month when we went to Vegas for my bachelorette party?”
“Well, I remember most of it,” I reply with a laugh, but my smile falls away when neither Danny nor Brandon laughs with me. “Yes, I remember the trip.”
“And do you further remember when we thought it would be absolutely hilarious to go have Elvis marry us, just for fun?”
An image of Danny with a short, white veil pinned to his blond hair and me stealing his Bride-to-Be sash and looping it over my head flashes through my mind.
“Oh, yeah. That was hilarious. He even sang Love Me Tender .” I laugh at the fun memory. “Man, we were so drunk.”
“Yeah, well, we actually got married,” Danny says.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“We went to get our marriage license,” Brandon adds, speaking for the first time—and he doesn’t sound pleased at all. “And we can’t get it because Danny’s already married. ”
“To you,” Danny adds helpfully.
“No way.” I shake my head and lean back in my chair, crossing my legs. “It didn’t even look like a real chapel. I mean, Elvis can’t marry people, Dan.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Brandon mutters, pulling his hand down his face.
“You’re an attorney,” I remind Brandon. “So, give us a quickie divorce or an annulment or whatever, and we’ll get on with our lives.”
“I always did want to be a divorcée,” Danny says and waggles his eyebrows. “But not from B, of course.”
“Well, then you’re welcome.” I smile at him, but Brandon isn’t laughing.
“I can’t be the attorney on record for this,” he says. “It’s a conflict of interest. But here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to come to my offices tomorrow at ten in the morning and meet with my partner, Gray. He will handle this mess. And, hopefully, it won’t dick with our wedding date.”
“We’re moving forward with the wedding no matter what,” Danny informs him. “If we have to take care of legal stuff later, so be it, but the wedding for friends and family is happening.”
Brandon sighs, and I feel bad.
“Listen, B, I’m sorry. We didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“I know. But it just reinforces that you two are never allowed to go to Vegas together again. Ever.”
“It wasn’t just the two of us there,” I point out, but when his eyes flash through the phone, I zip my lips. “We’ll figure this out, and everything will be okay. I’ll change some things in my schedule so I can go see Ray tomorrow.”
“His name is Gray ,” Brandon corrects me. “Grayson Sterling. And don’t be late, okay? Danny, I’ll see you at home.”
“Okay. I love you,” Danny says, turning the camera back to his face. “I’ll make this all up to you, I promise.”
Danny makes kissy faces at the phone, and when Brandon clicks off, my friend blows out a breath and slumps back in the chair.
“Well, shit,” he says. “Honey, I can’t make it at ten tomorrow.”
“But—”
“I need you to go, and I’ll swing through and sign the papers later in the day.”
“You’re ditching me on our divorce ?” I demand and glare at him. “Did our marriage mean so little to you?”
Danny snorts out a laugh. “B’s pissed. ”
“I don’t blame him. You married someone else. A woman .”
He shivers at the thought, which makes me laugh again.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go meet with this old attorney dude, and we’ll get it all worked out. I’m sorry. I should have known better. Of course, Vegas weddings are real. But we were so drunk that I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Honey, I never think straight.”
I cough over the sip of coffee I just took, and Danny rushes around my desk to pat me on the back.
“I’ll divorce you. You don’t have to kill me.”
“Oh, a widower ,” he says with too much delight. “That trumps divorcée.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“Which is why I’m so damn good at my job, and you love me so much.” He winks at me. “Hey, why do you think Gray’s an old guy?”
“With a name like Grayson Sterling? That has old attorney written all over it.”
“Whatever you say,” he replies and stands to leave my office. “Thanks, babe. See ya.”
He waves and leaves my office, seemingly without a care in the world.
That’s what I love about Danny. He may be a tad dramatic, but he’s fun , and he lets so much roll off his back. Brandon is much more serious. The two of them balance each other out perfectly.
I feel bad that we might have done something to mess up their wedding.
After making some calls and juggling tomorrow’s schedule, I lock up my office and leave for the day. I’m meeting with my cousins for dinner at one of our favorite restaurants.
The Celtic Swell is an Irish pub not too far from where I live on Alki Beach on the west side of Seattle. The drive there from downtown Seattle can be tricky in traffic, but I know all the tips and tricks of driving the backroads and arrive just five minutes late.
Olivia and Lucy are already sitting at a high table with three pints of beer.
“Hey,” I say as I lean over to kiss Liv and then Lucy on the cheek before climbing onto the tall stool.
“You’re only five minutes late,” Liv says in surprise. “That’s practically early for you.”
My family always gives me shit for being late. But I’m hardly ever more than a couple of minutes late.
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Today has been…eventful.”
“What’s going on?” Lucy asks and sips her beer. The server delivers some nachos to the table, and my empty stomach growls gratefully. “Everything okay?”
“I think it will be.” I tell them what happened with Danny, and their jaws drop.
“Holy shit, Stel, you’re married ?” Liv whispers.
“It’s a technicality,” I reply, waving her off. “And we’ll get it sorted out. I just feel bad that this put a wrench in their planning, you know?”
“Homewrecker,” Lucy says playfully. “Oh, man, if this was going to happen to anyone, it would be you. Because you’re fun like that.”
“No more drinking and making bad choices for me,” I insist and pop a chip loaded with cheese and sour cream into my mouth. “I’ll go see the lawyer tomorrow morning and get it all squared away.”
“That is an interesting day,” Olivia agrees.
“What about you guys?” I ask. “Liv, how’s Vaughn?”
Liv’s face softens at the mention of her fiancé, the super sexy and super famous Vaughn Barrymore.
“He’s great. He left this morning for a couple of weeks of filming in Vancouver.”
“Oh, that’s close,” Lucy says. “You can go visit.”
“That’s the plan. I’ll be here during the workweek and then drive up there on the weekends. It’ll be fine.”
“What kind of movie is he working on?” I ask and sip my beer. This is the best way to unwind after a long workday. The three of us—and sometimes some of the other cousins—meet up on Wednesdays to help break up the workweek.
I look forward to it, almost more than Fridays.
Especially since I’m a workaholic and work most weekends anyway.
“They’re filming the movie I was doing the costumes for when we met,” Liv replies and tells us about Vaughn’s role.
“And what about wedding news?” Lucy asks her. “Have you set a date? Started planning anything yet?”
“No.” Liv shakes her head. “It’ll probably happen next year, but we’re still getting settled in his house and figuring each other out.”
“That’s a good idea,” I agree. “You’re still learning each other. There’s no rush to get married.”
Liv cocks an eyebrow. “Are you speaking from experience?”
“Haha, smartass. Lucy, what’s new with you? We’ve monopolized the conversation.”
“Your lives are way more interesting than mine,” Lucy replies. “I do get to go out to Uncle Dominic’s vineyard this weekend to meet with Alecia. You know she stepped away from all the wedding and event planning stuff to manage the vineyard and raise Emma.”
“God, I love it out there,” I say with a happy sigh. “It’s just so pretty , you know?”
“Gorgeous,” Liv agrees. “We should do a party out there sometime. Just a big family thing.”
“Well, hold on to that thought,” Lucy says, pointing at Liv with a corn chip. “Because I think I’m going to be the new event coordinator at Cuppa de Vita.”
“ What ?” Liv and I say together.
“Oh my God, that’s awesome, Luce.” I lean over to high-five my cousin. “I didn’t know that was something you wanted to do.”
“I didn’t either,” she admits. “But I have a bachelor’s degree in business and hospitality, and I want to use it. I love weddings, and Alecia mentioned a while ago that they were looking for someone new out there. So, we started talking about it, and, well, I guess the rest is history. I haven’t been offered the position yet, but I’m excited to go talk to her about it. And any excuse to spend some time at the vineyard is time well spent.”
“Well, now I know who to call when shit starts to get real,” Liv says with an excited smile. “I’ll need all the help I can get, and I was already thinking about getting married at Dom and Alecia’s vineyard. It’s the perfect spot.”
“Cheers to all of this happiness,” I say and hold my glass up to theirs. “This is some of the best news ever.”
“I’ll keep you posted,” Lucy says as she clinks her glass to ours. “How are things going at the house now that Liv moved out and Haley moved in?”
“Pretty good,” I reply with a nod. “We’re going to host a cousins’ night soon. Did you guys know that Uncle Will and Uncle Matt are buying the house next door so they can open up the fence and we can have a sort of cousins compound?”
“I thought I heard something about that,” Liv says. “I think it would be cool. So many of the cousins are getting out of college and don’t want to live at home anymore.”
“Plus, this way, the ‘rents can make sure the security is state of the art and we’re all in one safe place. Isn’t it really just a control thing for them?”
“I don’t think so.” I finish off my beer, thinking it over. “I think it’s a convenience thing. And given who some of our parents are, it’s a safety issue. Uncle Will and Uncle Luke, in particular, are big on that. And Uncle Matt is a freaking cop , so it makes sense.”
“The cousins’ parties will be easier, and we won’t need a designated driver,” Lucy says. “Maybe I can get in on that and live in the new house.”
“But if you’re working at the vineyard, that’s a really long commute every day,” Liv reminds her.
“True. I think I’ll have to get a place closer to Cuppa di Vita.” Lucy shrugs. “I’ll figure it out.”
“What time do you meet with the lawyer tomorrow?” Liv asks me.
“Ten.” I wrinkle my nose. “I have to go visit the old guy right in the middle of my morning. But I’ll make it work.”
“Maybe don’t be late?” Lucy suggests.
“I’m not going to be late,” I promise myself as I hurry away from my parked SUV and rush down the sidewalk toward Brandon’s offices. I had to park a block away because snatching a space in downtown Seattle is almost impossible, and it was too far to walk from my office.
Just a little winded, I hurry through the heavy glass doors and search the sign by the elevator for the right suite, then hit the up button.
“Of course, they’re on the thirtieth floor,” I mutter as the doors close, and the elevator begins its climb. “Gives me farther to go.”
I tap my shiny red Jimmy Choo and watch the numbers above the door. When I reach the right floor, I hurry out and to the office door.
I paste a professional smile on my face and walk inside.
A woman with stark gray, shoulder-length hair looks up from her computer and purses her lips as she takes me in from head to toe.
“May I help you?”
“I’m Stella McKenna. I have an appointment with Gray.”
She narrows her brown eyes. “Mr. Sterling will be with you in a moment. You may sit there.”
She points to a black leather chair. I wonder what she would do if I sat in a different chair.
She reminds me of a moody schoolmarm, and I’m the bad kid who has to meet with the principal.
She speaks quietly into her phone, and I sit, cross my legs with my handbag on my lap, and check my watch.
I walked in that door at ten on the dot.
I’m not late.
Ten minutes later, when I’m starting to get heated and ask if Mr. Sterling plans to waste any more of my time, a dark wooden door opens, and a brunette on stilettos motions for me.
“Mr. Sterling is ready for you, Miss McKenna.”
Boy, Brandon’s office is stuffy. Which is surprising since Brandon himself is not stuffy in the least.
“Thank you.” I stand and follow the other woman down a hallway lined with offices. When we reach the end of the corridor, she opens a door and pokes her head in.
“Mr. Sterling, Miss McKenna.”
“Thank you.”
I can’t see him. I can only hear his voice. Two words.
Yet my stomach clenches.
Jesus, who in the world has a voice like that ?
The brunette nods to me, and I step across the threshold, my eyes landing on Grayson Sterling.
He’s standing with his back to me, looking out at the city through his windows. He has his hands in the pockets of his trousers and wears a matching suit jacket.
Every hair on my body stands on end with awareness.
The brunette closes the door behind me, and Gray finally turns to me.
This isn’t an old man.
He’s tall with shaggy, dark blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He looks like he belongs in a Viking movie more than in a suit and tie, though the tie is the same color as his eyes, and I can’t help but imagine him doing things to me with it.
Things I have no business imagining.
“I’m Stella McKenna,” I say with more bravado than I feel as I step to his desk and extend my hand to shake his.
He pauses, holding my gaze. Just as I’m about to pull my hand away, he steps forward and folds his around mine.
I can’t help but gasp.
His eyes narrow.
The electricity that moves up my arm and down my spine is undeniable.
“Gray Sterling.”