Chapter Six
O n the morning that the Harris/Grant wedding party was due to check in, two days prior to the wedding, Celeste dragged herself out of bed shortly after five a.m.
She could have slept for another three or four hours, easily, but something she’d learned over time was that carving out an hour to herself before a weekend like the one that lay ahead was essential.
It was going to be a full-on four days, starting with welcoming guests and orienting them to the local area, assisting with last-minute wedding preparations, and finalizing the details for all the events leading up to Kassie and Jeff’s dream wedding. Between now and Sunday afternoon, once everyone checked out after brunch, Celeste’s life was going to be 100 percent consumed by the wedding, so she had to relish the few moments to herself before the workday began. Plus immediately after checkout on Sunday, she had her first accounting class.
She took her time under the spray of hot water in the shower, then got dressed for the day and crossed the parking area to the kitchen entrance for a coffee to take to the quiet of the great room.
When she entered the kitchen, she found Jeannie, apron covered with powdered sugar and phone cradled between her shoulder and ear. Her brow furrowed in what Celeste recognized as annoyance, something she didn’t see often from her mother. “I thought he was supposed to be back this week,” Jeannie said. “He was going to be the backup.”
Uh-oh. The guests hadn’t even arrived, and clearly they were already facing a hiccup.
“All right, well, send me his number, I guess,” she said. “Goodbye.”
Jeannie tossed her phone onto the counter beside a rack of cooling lemon tarts, then washed her hands in the sink. “Your father has a temperature of 101. He’s in bed shivering. There’s no way he’ll be able to take the guys out tomorrow. I called Bill, but Aline said he stayed an extra week in Florida to golf. She gave me the name of some guy Bill hunts with. Jameson something?”
“Jameson Kent?” Celeste said, eyes widening. She’d met the local guide once at a town fundraiser at the local library, and he not only had the biggest, and most unfounded, ego she’d ever encountered, but she’d watched as he’d pocketed six sets of silverware in his parka pocket from one of the tables, for god knows what reason. There was no way they were allowing the groom and his family and friends to spend the day with that loser. “That’s a hard no. I’d sooner take them out myself.”
The day out was meant to happen while the bride, her mother and sisters, and the other female guests spent the day at the local hot-springs spa, then returned to the lodge for a specially designed happy hour, complete with a visit from a mixologist who was going to demo some signature cocktails, then stick around for the evening to mix drinks for the rehearsal dinner.
The rehearsal dinner was an elaborate seafood feast, a McCarthy-family specialty modeled after the traditional Christmas Eve dinners of Jeannie’s childhood at the lodge: towers of crab legs, trays of oysters on beds of glistening shaved ice, hot lobster bisque, and sides of warm corn bread and shrimp toasts.
After dessert, there would be cards and nightcaps in the great room, then the groom would retire to a double suite, which would be cleaned in between the rehearsal dinner and wedding day for the sisters of the bride, while the bride would spend her last unmarried night having a slumber party with her sisters in what would be the bridal suite the next night.
Now Celeste had to think fast to find someone who would be able to fill in for her father at the last minute.
“Espresso?” she asked her mother, who was already rolling out dough for the next pastry, her irritation clear in her aggressive motions.
“I’ve already had two,” Jeannie said. “I’m going to put these in the oven, then I’ll warm up some soup for your father. And can you call Kristopsen’s when they open? Our order was delayed yesterday. I want to make sure they’re still doing a drop-off this morning.”
“On it. Let me know if you need anything else,” Celeste said, then took her coffee to the great room and blew on her drink while she stared out the window. The pale light of the rising sun was starting to creep up the tree line, a morning mist thick on the ground. It would burn off by eleven, and with the trees already budding ahead of schedule, it was going to be a gorgeous weekend for an early-spring wedding.
She took a small sip of her coffee. It was obvious who she needed to call. But what if he said no? What if he said yes? Celeste would have to basically be Jack’s boss for the next couple of days and ensure that he offered her guests the bespoke experience the lodge had guaranteed.
There was also the small fact that Quinn would have a field day. Their father and his cover band had been a last-minute substitution on Christmas Eve so many years ago when the jazz trio had canceled and her parents’ love story had begun. Celeste didn’t want to endure her sister’s matchmaking glee at the parallel turn of events.
There wasn’t really a choice to be made. Jack could deliver, and it wasn’t like there was much time to explore other options. It was her duty to make sure that the wedding weekend was as perfect as she could possibly make it, especially since over a million people would be witness to the event.
Without overthinking, she opened the Wallace Expeditions account on Instagram and sent Jack a DM: “ Any chance you’re free to manage a group tomorrow? Something outdoorsy? 6 guys. ” She put her phone down and paced around the room, making small adjustments to picture frames on the walls and fluffing pillows. Jack likely wouldn’t be up for a few hours, so she’d have to be patient.
She snatched her phone off the table again when it vibrated only seconds later. On the home screen was a response from Jack. Her heart raced. “ Count me in ,” read his message. “Yes,” she whispered.
“ Can you come by the lodge this afternoon to discuss? ” she typed. “ Noon? ”
Another message came through almost immediately: “ See you then. ”
She dropped her phone onto the table, while her stomach did flip-flops. She loved problem-solving.
Her solutions, however, didn’t usually involve the prospect of working side by side with incredibly handsome men.
*
The morning flew by in a flurry of checkouts and room preparations. The wedding group was due to start arriving at one o’clock, and in the meantime, Celeste was doing a final check of the main spaces before her meeting with Jack.
“You’ve rearranged those books six times in the last five minutes,” Quinn said. “Is someone nervous?”
Celeste stepped back from the stack of coffee-table books in front of the fireplace. “I’m just tidying up,” she shot back. “You could help, you know. And you’re not to be anywhere in the vicinity of this room this afternoon.”
“What if I want to say hi to Jack?”
“Too bad. Go latch hook a rug.”
“Very funny,” Quinn said. She approached Celeste and straightened the collar on her green blouse. “But you don’t need to be nervous. You’re gorgeous, and Jack is totally into you.”
“I don’t need him to be into me; I need him to show the group a great time. And I’m not nervous.”
Quinn was right—Celeste was nervous. And she was also incredibly stressed. Half of their order from Kristopsen’s still hadn’t been delivered, and the seafood dinner was starting to look a lot less like a feast and more like an afternoon snack. After going over some logistics with Jack, who would be there any minute, she had to call around to all the local providers to see who had any stock. Not to mention finishing prepping all the rooms, restocking the mini fridges with bottles of cava and bags of truffle-oil potato chips, as per the bride and groom’s special request, and making sure that when everyone arrived, the lodge was ready to shine.
The chimes at the front door rang, indicating someone had just passed through, and Quinn gave Celeste a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”
Celeste smoothed her hair and went to the front entrance, anticipation swirling like a whirlpool in her gut. Jack stood in the lobby in jeans, a black bomber jacket, and a baseball cap.
“Hey, Jack,” she said.
“Hey. Wow,” he said, glancing around at the lodge’s entrance. “This place is incredible.”
“Thanks,” said Celeste. She basked in the glow of his approval, feeling the same rush of pride she experienced whenever a new guest entered the lodge. “Come on in.” She motioned toward the great room, where the fire was crackling and the coffee-table books looked just right. “Can I get you something to drink? Tea or coffee?”
“I’ll take a coffee,” said Jack. “Black.”
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
Minutes later, when she reentered the great room balancing a tray with two coffees and a plate of white chocolate–dipped biscotti, she found Jack surveying the bookshelves, pulling out titles from the nature section. “I haven’t seen these in years,” he said, flipping through a volume of the Life Nature Library set.
“My parents are big collectors. Feel free to borrow one,” she said.
“I remember reading these in grade school.” He surveyed the rest of the shelf, where some of Everett’s published books were also featured. “Where’s the mystery section?”
Celeste smiled. “That’s in the puzzle room. You like mysteries?”
Jack’s eyes widened. “The puzzle room? You have an actual puzzle room?”
“We own a lot of puzzles—and even more mystery novels. I think we keep our Clue board game there too.”
He grinned. “I love that.”
Celeste loved how his eyes were alight with an infectious energy. She was tempted to ask him about his favorite authors, his opinion on the most deceptive red herring of all time, and what he thought about the television adaptation of the Three Pines series, but they had business to attend to. “I can give you the grand tour later. Here—have your coffee while it’s still hot.” She gestured toward the seating area in front of the fireplace.
Jack settled into one of the caramel leather couches, picked up his mug, and took a sip. “Great coffee. So, tell me about this group.”
Celeste opened her iPad. “It’s the groom, his best man—the other groomsman, the brother of the bride is arriving the morning of the wedding—another one of Jeff’s friends, the fathers of the bride and groom, and the great-uncle of the bride. So, six altogether.”
“And they were supposed to be doing what?”
“Outdoor adventure.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means whatever my dad decides in the moment. It depends on a number of factors. Weather, season, recent wildlife sightings…”
“Sounds…adventurous,” Jack said, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. She liked his easygoing nature. It made her feel confident about turning over the tour to him.
“It’s kinda what he’s known for,” said Celeste, her own smile mirroring his. “But now he’s knocked out. So…”
“So that’s where I come in. Do they know they’re going fishing?”
“Not yet, but I’m sure they’ll love it.”
“Oh yeah? How do you know?”
“I don’t. But I’m operating from a place of optimism.”
“All right, given that I don’t know their skill level, I’ll plan for the classic workshop. Maybe you can give me a heads-up in the morning about approximate sizes. I’ll get all the gear together, and we’ll spend the day out on the Bow, get them pulling out some nice rainbow trout.”
“What about lunch?” Celeste said.
“There’s a burger joint at the river access that’s pretty good. We can get a couple tables there when they’re done.”
“Hmm,” Celeste said. With Everett’s excursions, Jeannie would always send an elaborate picnic, and he had a number of places that were great to stop, rest, and enjoy a gourmet meal on the go. The diner was okay, but there was no guarantee there would be a table big enough for the group, and they didn’t take reservations.
“You have another idea, it seems like.”
“What if I bring by lunch? Is there somewhere we can set up?”
“Outside? I’m okay with that. But will your group be?”
“You know what? I’ll take care of it. Just tell me what time and where.” There were a couple of smaller portable heat lamps in the garage she could get Mariana, their head of housekeeping, to help her put into the back of the truck. “And your rate?”
“Four-fifty per guest for the half-day workshop,” Jack said. “But I’ll knock off 15 percent if you give my company a shout-out on your social media.”
“Deal.”
They spent a few more minutes covering logistics, and Celeste started to feel increasingly confident that this was going to be a good backup.
“Thanks again for this. I think it’s going to be great,” she said.
“You going to join us?” Jack said, a glint in his eye. “You’re practically an expert at fly tying now.”
“Uh-uh,” Celeste said. “This is a guys’ day. I’ll be there to drop off lunch, but otherwise I’ll be here, slinging mango margaritas and spinning Mariah Carey records.”
Jack took the last gulp of his coffee and set his mug on the table. “So, how about that tour?”
“Right this way.”
He followed her lead as she led him to her favorite spaces in the lodge. The sun was shining outside, so she took him to the artist’s gallery. Jack was complimentary throughout the tour, noting small construction details and craftsmanship. Celeste felt a mixture of pride tinged with sadness. This was supposed to be her forever home, and soon it would be in the hands of perfect strangers, and all of the things Jack was pointing out as being unique and memorable could be forever changed.
“And here,” she said, stopping in the puzzle room, “is the final stop on today’s tour. Which was the truncated version. I, unfortunately, have to source some red snapper for tomorrow’s dinner.”
“Why not serve rainbow trout?” Jack said. “It’ll be fresh caught and much tastier than some imported, overrated catch. Plus the guys can show off the result of their work. I have a great recipe I can share with you. Super simple.”
Celeste almost swooned. This was the second problem of hers that Jack had solved in a matter of hours. “You’d better be careful, or I’m going to have to hire you on staff,” she said. “You’re making yourself indispensable.”
“I’m more of an outdoors guy. But it seems like a pretty great place to work.”
She tried to smile, but a lump formed in her throat.
“Or not?” Jack said, studying her expression.
“No, it is. It’s just that my parents are selling the place this summer. So, I’m going to start looking for somewhere new to work. Any interest in owning your very own lodge?” she joked, trying to deflect attention from the waver in her voice.
When she looked back at Jack, his expression had softened and his chocolate-brown eyes were filled with concern. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “But I’m sure whoever buys it will want to keep you on. You seem…” He paused, and Celeste was on pins and needles waiting for the rest of his response. He cleared his throat. “You’re clearly good at your job.”
Warmth filled Celeste from her feet to the end of her ponytail. “Thank you. So this,” she said, motioning to the room, “is the puzzle room.”
Jack took a few steps in, surveyed the room, and grinned. “This is awesome.”
“Books are organized by subgenre. Police procedurals on that wall. Classics over there. Cozy mysteries beside the fireplace. Legal thrillers by the window, historicals beside that. And then it’s classic noir, romantic suspense, and supernatural.”
Jack laughed. “This is unbelievable!” He walked around the room, looking the shelves up and down. “You literally own every mystery novel ever published. Have you read them all?”
Celeste smiled. “Let’s just say I have some creative ideas for where to hide a dead body.”
“Noted,” said Jack. He took a step closer to the classics shelf. “Is this…” He pulled a leather-bound book and looked at her, amazed.
“Yep. Death on the Nile , first edition.”
She watched as Jack turned it over in his hands. “Agatha Christie is my favorite of all time. My grams had every single one of her books and would read them to me way before it was ever age appropriate.”
Grams? Celeste had to stifle a giggle at the sound of such an adorable term of endearment coming from a rugged outdoorsman.
“My dad bought it at auction, like, twenty years ago for what he thought at the time was a small fortune. But I think it was a good investment,” she said.
“I’ll say. But wait, so you just keep these out here? Where anyone could take them?”
“We’ve been lucky. Our guests are pretty awesome.” If Jack looked a little more closely, he’d see that there was also a camera surveillance system in most of the common rooms. They really only used it so that whoever was at the front desk could see when there were guests using the spaces so staff could offer them service, but she supposed it would also be helpful in the event of a book heist.
“I’m sure they’re distracted by biscotti. Those were amazing.”
Celeste smiled. “I’ll let my mom know.” She was tempted to linger in the puzzle room with Jack and continue comparing notes on their favorite books. She could picture it: Them sitting in front of the fire together reading. Without thinking, she’d move her feet into his lap, and he’d hold them, and she’d love it. Eventually she’d notice that he wasn’t reading anymore and that he was looking at her in a way that told her they weren’t reading anymore. And she’d dog-ear her book—which was a cardinal sin, in her opinion—but she wouldn’t care, and soon they’d be wishing for the fire to die down with the heat generated by their two bodies, naked in front of the hearth.
Her cheeks burned when she realized Jack had just said something, but she was caught in the trance of a sexy reading dream. “I’m sorry?” she said, hoping her cheeks weren’t as cherry red as they felt.
“I asked which one is your favorite.”
“Contemporary? I’m a huge Ann Cleeves fan. And of the classics…I’ve never met an Ian Fleming I didn’t like.”
“Bond fan, eh?”
“I like Bond.” She had a million things on her to-do list, but suddenly they seemed as pressing as organizing the paperclips in the office. She liked talking to Jack. A lot. She also liked the way his lips smile curved a little more on the right and how he looked at her like she was the most interesting person in the world. “Do you know he also wrote Chitty Chitty Bang Bang ?”
“I did not,” Jack said. He looked at his watch. “But speaking of flying cars, I might need one of my own if I’m going to make it to the tackle shop in time to grab a few things I need for tomorrow.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Celeste said.
They moved to the foyer. “Thanks again for helping us out tomorrow,” she said. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Pleasure’s all mine. I’ll be by with the van at eight thirty sharp.”
“See you then,” Celeste said, already counting down the hours. “Don’t forget to send me the invoice.”
“Will do. And by the way,” Jack said, turning around on his way back to his truck, “Tiffany Case. That’s your Bond character.”
Celeste laughed. “What? You’re comparing me to a diamond smuggler?”
“You’ve got a great sense of humor,” he said, his eyes flickering with amusement and something that, if Celeste wasn’t mistaken, looked a lot like desire. “And…you seem like you’re not opposed to diamonds.”
She twisted the ring on her right middle finger. It was a replica of Princess Diana’s ring that her parents had given her for her thirtieth birthday, a large blue sapphire surrounded by a ring of diamonds. “You’re not wrong about that,” Celeste said. Was he judging her? By the looks of it, the only diamonds that interested Jack were the black-diamond runs on the nearby mountains. She watched as he descended the front steps of the lodge. “Bye, Jack.”
Jack turned back and gave her a quick wave, then got into his truck. As he pulled out, he honked twice.
Celeste went back into the lodge, closed the door, and leaned against it. When had she ever been this swoony? She shook her head. Jack was now pretty much a colleague, who was doing this to help his business, not to help her.
She watched as his truck disappeared around the forested bend, then sighed.
It was official—she was hot for teacher.