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Megan closed her eyes, grateful for Demi’s persistence and annoyed she’d overlooked the name. “Of course. Thank you, Demi. I’m on it.”

She took a deep breath and clicked on to the call, sending it to her wireless headset. “Ms. Hale? This is Megan Kinkaid.”

“Hi,” the friendly voice said. “I’m so sorry to bother you.”

“No bother at all,” Megan said, using her most soothing, professional voice. “You’re getting married. Congratulations! We were so thrilled to hear.”

“Oh, thank you. Yes. My fiancé and I got engaged just over a week ago, and I know this is a long shot, as in incredibly lofty to even ask, but I was hoping we could discuss your availability.” A small pause, almost as if she hated to play this card. “Brent Carmichael is my fiancé.”

Ah, well played, Allison Hale. Use what you got. “Brent’s a dear friend, and such a charmer. You’ve got a good one there, and I always aim to accommodate friends. When were you thinking of getting married?” The answer didn’t matter. Megan was bound and determined to handle this wedding personally.

“We’re thinking summer. June.”

“Popular month and not far away.”

Allison sighed. “I know. You’re surely booked, and of course, we understand.”

“I have room for a June wedding.” Megan left off the part where they’d turned down dozens of brides-to-be with the same request just that week alone.

“You do? Wow. Oh, this is fabulous. I didn’t anticipate you having an opening. What’s next?”

“Why don’t we set up an appointment for you to come in? Brent is invited as well, of course.”

“I think he’s giving me the reins on this one, but I’m sure he’ll be available to consult throughout the process.”

Megan smiled into the phone. “That’s fairly standard. We don’t see as many grooms. How about Monday? Are you free?”

“Anytime after three forty-five. Sorry for being so specific, but I’m a fourth-grade teacher and have to make sure each of my kiddos makes it to their bus.”

An elementary school teacher? That pulled Megan’s interest. She’d always imagined Brent would end up with a full-time socialite, a fashion designer, or even a model. This romance just got more and more interesting. A teacher? How pedestrian and, honestly, refreshing. Good for Brent. “Let’s say four o’clock. You can be my last consult of the day.”

“I’ll be there, and you don’t understand how great this news is.”

“For us both,” Megan said, smiling. She liked this woman.

And at three fifty-eight in the afternoon, Allison Hale kept her promise. Megan peered with interest through the small window of her office as Demi greeted Allison in their lobby and escorted her to their lounge area, which was essentially a sitting room made up of soft Italian leather couches with fresh flowers on either end table. Perfect for getting comfortable with clients.

“Allison Hale is here for you,” Demi said, poking her head around Megan’s door.

“Thank you.” She gathered her notes and new client forms that she would fill out for Allison as they spoke and made her way into the lounge to find Allison examining the artwork above the couch she sat on.

“Oh, hi there.” Allison smiled unabashedly. Her cheeks dusted with pink at having been caught midperusal, and her eyes shone brightly. Megan could already tell she was the cheerful type. “I hope you don’t mind my admiring your Richter. I’m a fan.”

“Really?” Megan smiled because not too many people could have spotted a Richter in the wild. “Gerhard Richter caught my eye on a recent getaway I took to Europe. I had to have something of his. Not an original, but I splurged on one of his limited lithographs. No regrets.” She smiled at the abstract. “You can get lost in it.”

“I already have.”

She extended her hand. “Megan Kinkaid.”

Allison stood and accepted it as if forgetting herself. “I’m sorry. I should have told you who I was before launching into an artistic confession while remaining a stranger in your office.”

“It’s completely okay.”

“And honestly, I don’t know a ton about art, just a novice, but I’ve collected a few favorites in my brain. And I’ve done it again. Still a stranger. Allison Hale.” She nodded like a punctuation mark in human form. “That’s my name.”

“Well, Allison Hale, I don’t think you have a thing to be sorry about. You have fantastic taste. Shall we sit and get to know each other?”

They did. Allison, who had blond hair that fell past her shoulders in layers and light blue eyes, pursed and unpursed her lips. She seemed out of her element, which was not a problem at all, but stillsurprising, giving her engagement to such a high profile person like Brent Carmichael. You’d think she’d be aware of her status and own any room she walked into.