Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Present Day
Lily drove out to Mick Hamilton’s art studio on a chilly day in mid-September.
After a brief phone conversation, Lily suggested they meet to discuss how he visualizes his future partner.
He’d invited her all the way out here, to his ornate and interesting wood-and-glass studio and house that reflected the sky, sea, and sand.
Lily walked up the steps to the porch, her heart thudding in a way that intrigued her.
She guessed it was because she hadn’t gotten much sleep.
Liam hadn’t called her immediately after leaving the set last night, and she’d let her mind get the better of her, imagining scenarios in which he was head over heels with someone else.
Eventually, he’d texted that he was running lines with all his scene partners.
He’d messaged: I love you; get some rest.
Now, Lily knocked on Mick’s door. A split-second later, it opened to reveal a chaotic-looking yet handsome man of twenty-eight, his dark hair shaggy and messy, his apron flecked with paint.
He had a dark beard and eyes the color of the Nantucket Sound.
Somewhere behind him, a speaker system played a Radiohead song.
Already, Lily’s mind started to work overtime, trying to imagine what sort of woman would fall for Mick Hamilton—and what kind of woman Mick Hamilton would want to invite into this beautiful, artistic world.
“Lily!” Mick reached out to shake her hand. “Welcome.”
Lily couldn’t help but smile back at him as they shook hands. He led her through the foyer and into a kitchen lined with Portuguese tiles, where he poured tea and offered her a plate of oatmeal cookies.
“Do you bake?” she asked. It was rare to meet a man who baked in Manhattan.
“I do,” he said. “It’s a stress reliever for me. I can’t say if they’re good or not.”
Lily took a bite and had to fight not to moan. The cookies were soft and buttery and nutty, everything she wanted in a midday dessert. But a split-second later, she put the cookie down, remembering. Mick frowned.
“You don’t like them,” he said.
Lily’s adrenaline spiked. “It’s not that,” she assured him. “It’s just, I’m going wedding dress shopping after this. Everyone will be there. My mother. My future mother-in-law. My grandmother…”
Mick waved his hand. “Say no more.” He hurried to the counter, removed a large Tupperware container, and filled it with freshly baked oatmeal cookies. “You can have them after you try on your dresses. Stress-free.”
Lily watched as he secured the plastic top on the Tupperware and felt utterly cared for.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and held her elbows.
Someone would fall for Mick Hamilton in no time.
In fact, she couldn’t believe somebody wasn’t already here, dizzy with love for him, eating cookies and watching the birds through the large windows.
Lily reminded herself to remain professional and to remember that Mick had invited her here for matchmaking purposes.
She proceeded to outline her strategy. “I want to get a sense for how you live, what you like, what your habits are, and how you visualize the next few years of your life,” she explained.
“And of course, I want to get a sense for what type of woman you’re attracted to.
Who could you imagine spending your time with?
Do you want children? That sort of thing. ”
Mick’s cheeks were fiery. He sat down and nibbled at the edge of a cookie thoughtfully.
“It’s a lot to consider,” he said, his eyes far away.
“I guess, well, you can see that I’m not the most organized person.
But if she’s really organized, that isn’t a deal-breaker.
I can force myself to pull it together.” He laughed at himself.
“Most days, I spend anywhere from six to ten hours in my studio, which is just over there. Attached to the house.” He gestured vaguely behind him.
“I travel a decent amount for work, showing in galleries and selling my paintings to various collectors and so on. So I’d like someone who enjoys traveling.
Someone funny and sharp and…” He squeezed his eyes shut and laughed again.
“I feel so foolish right now. Am I imagining a person who even exists?”
Lily urged him to keep going. “Seriously, everything you say helps.” She was making a list on her phone and mentally considering the women who lived on Nantucket and whether any of them would be a good fit for Mick. “Do you want to date another artist?”
“I think it would be cool if she used her creativity in some way,” he said.
“But she doesn’t have to be a professional artist. I want her to be able to feel deeply, you know?
To appreciate sunrises and sunsets and good cups of coffee and great conversation.
” He pressed his heart with his fist and made a funny face.
“Is this when you award me with the ‘lamest man in the world’ trophy?”
Lily burst into laughter and set down her phone. Every cell in her body screamed for her to reach out and touch Mick’s hand and tell him that everything was going to be all right.
“I’ve been burned before,” Mick said delicately. “I mean, I thought I was going to get married back in the city. She had the wedding dress. We’d picked the venue, the cake, and all that. And then, she got a job in Tokyo and left me behind.”
Lily took a breath. “Tokyo. Wow.”
“Yeah.” Mick tugged at his earlobe. “There wasn’t even a conversation about whether I would go with her or not. It was like, one minute I fit into her life, and the next, I didn’t.”
Lily hated the burning feeling in the back of her brain.
It reminded her of Liam, of how he’d taken off for Los Angeles and left her here.
But she reminded herself that Liam was coming back soon.
Once his television show was finished, he’d be on Nantucket, helping her plan the rest of their wedding.
When Lily stood to leave, Mick led her to the door and pressed the Tupperware of cookies into her hands. “Share them with your fiancé,” he ordered. “And your mother and future mother-in-law and everyone else.”
Lily smiled. “What if I want to eat them all myself?”
Mick threw his head back with laughter. “That’s a woman after my own heart. Good luck with the wedding dresses. What kind of vibe are you after? Modern? Vintage? Princess?”
Lily thought for a moment, searching his face. With Mick, she sensed that making a joke was always the way forward. “Astronaut-themed,” she tried, then felt her heart open as Mick cackled. He even smacked his thigh.
“That’s my kind of wedding,” he said.
“We’re going to have the reception on the moon,” she said.
“That’s one step for man, one giant leap for marriage,” he said, parroting what Neil Armstrong said when America first landed on the moon.