Page 26

K ate dressed carefully for lunch with her father.

She hadn’t seen him for nearly six months, not since she made the move to Hazard.

They hadn’t parted on the best of terms. And perhaps that was on her.

He had been amused—amused!—by her decision to change career paths.

When she’d told him she planned to run the inn she’d purchased once it was remodeled, he had actually laughed—hard—saying he couldn’t wait to see it, that she would toss in the guest towel before renovations were even completed, that he could not imagine such a citified professional as his daughter in small town Rhode Island.

Still annoyed by that last exchange, Kate was tempted to show up in her painting clothes just to be contrary.

But training ruled. Going out in public demanded a certain style.

This might not be the city, but her dad was a big city kind of guy.

And when he called and invited her to lunch with his usual confidence—“Meet me for lunch, Katie-girl. I’ll be in your vicinity.

”—she knew she would attend. He didn’t leave her an out (he never did, not unless she rebelled) and really, what was the point today? It was just lunch. Nothing to prove.

As far as she was concerned, she had done that already, by quitting her job with his firm. She could still picture the look on his face when she cleaned out her office. The man had been at a true loss for words. And that had been a first.

Kate had reveled in it. She grinned in remembrance and shimmied into her sleek gray pencil skirt, pulling it over her head and down to her hips.

Next, she slipped into her low navy heels.

She combined those with a simple white button-up blouse and a trim, navy blue Ralph Lauren blazer over the top.

All the outfit needed next was a touch of gold jewelry at her ears and wrist to complete the image of elegant professional businesswoman.

It actually felt good. Because she was still that.

Only now she had her own business instead of working for her father.

She studied herself in the mirror. With practiced ease she grabbed up her brush and set about tackling her long hair. Within moments, she had it in a sleek chignon. Makeup came next to enhance her eyes. She added the slightest blush on her cheeks and lined her lips.

She looked…formidable. It was the look she’d favored when working for her father. It’s how he would expect her to appear to meet him. Kate frowned, but decided meeting his expectations was to her advantage. No need to shock him by showing up in a paint-spattered Green Day tee and ripped jeans.

How he’d even heard of the Ivy Way Tea Shop was baffling, though.

He’d been quite specific about where to meet.

When he called initially, Kate had thought to invite him to the inn as a peace offering.

She’d have enjoyed making him lunch and showing him all she had accomplished so far.

The inn really was coming right along, despite or because of all the bills piling up.

Bills she wasn’t sure she could pay.

Had he discovered the tea shop on an internet search? Hard to imagine him bothering with that. Perhaps he had an assistant who had chosen for him. Still, he relished control. If he wanted to meet, he wouldn’t leave the location up to Kate, despite it now being her town.

Then she chuckled. Who was she kidding? If he wanted to go out, the Ivy Way Tea Shop, with its delightful lunch specials, is exactly the venue she would have chosen herself.

Kate strolled briskly across the green, the wind this time pushing against her.

Usually it encouraged her to travel this direction, but instead of hustling her along today, the wind had turned contrary and buffeted against her.

Kate rubbed her arms through her blazer.

The cool air sliced right through the thick fabric.

She shivered, pausing at the statue and hoping the wind would calm down.

She read the inscription. Lovely, but it still seemed incomplete, like it needed another verse.

Kate set back out and the wind tousled her carefully coiffed hair. It blasted her hard, to the point where she struggled to make it the last bit across the square to Main Street.

At the tea shop, she gripped the door and wrenched it open.

Ivy’s little chime tinkled merrily as Kate stumbled inside.

Off-kilter from her walk in the wind, she took a moment to straighten her outfit and glance around the crowded shop.

Ah, she spotted her father seated toward the back edge.

At his nod, she headed toward his table.

He wasn’t alone. A man was seated across from him. Kate paused. Wait, was that…?

*

Rory turned when Quinton nodded at someone behind him.

When the man rose, he did out of reflex as well, having spotted a woman dressed professionally out of the corner of his eye.

Quin hadn’t said anything about bringing an assistant, but he had mentioned his daughter would be in the area today.

Rory turned and blinked at the sleek businesswoman in front of him.

From the tip of her head to her crisp business dress, she radiated efficiency and expertise right down to her shoes.

It was only the look on her face that made him grip the table. She was not pleased.

“Kate?”

She frowned before her eyes flicked to Quinton.

“Ah, my daughter is here,” he said smoothly to Rory.

Unbothered by the sudden animosity radiating in waves off of Kate, Quinton simply walked around the table and took her by the elbow to guide her to her seat.

After a long moment, during which Rory thought she might spin on her heel and leave, she sat, folded her hands, and said nothing.

It was clear from the tension in her shoulders and the way she held herself that she had plenty to say, but was holding it in.

Quinton seated himself and said to Rory. “My daughter Katrina. The best in the reputation management business.”

And, despite himself, Rory said “You’re Katrina?”

Kate shifted at his revelation and focused on the teapots all lined up in their rainbow colors on the shelf behind the register.

She appeared to be wishing herself anywhere but here, and Rory knew how she loved the tea shop.

It had to be seeing her father with him.

It made sense now, why the voice on the message sounded familiar, but he never would have made the connection.

Obviously, Quin was manipulating the situation. It irked Rory. His stalker-fan situation didn’t belong anywhere near Kate. It was wrong to involve her in it. Why had Quin asked her to join them?

“What has he told you?” Kate’s words came out clipped, chilling.

Rory felt a shiver travel down his spine.

This meeting already embodied the definition of ill-advised, and yet…

Kate was Katrina, the one everyone had recommended, the reason Rory had hired this firm to begin with: to keep any potential stalker scandal out of the press.

Mind-bending. And from the stiffness of her shoulders, this meeting was fast tumbling into a ditch.

Rory reached for her hand under the table. He didn’t know what made him do it, but once he touched her freezing cold fingers, he just wanted to warm them.

She snatched her hand back.

“I didn’t know,” he said as Quin cleared his throat.

Kate gave one quick nod to Rory in acknowledgment and turned her umbrage on her father, but he was talking, already smoothing over the awkwardness. Kate’s expression shuttered and became instantly confident and courteous. It was a transformation worthy of the best reputation manager.

She gave a brief professional smile. “Rory and I have met. He’s staying at my inn.”

“Yes, yes, so he said, which is fortuitous, is it not? Quite convenient. It’s all being managed perfectly.”

And Rory knew then, somehow, that her father had done this to Kate.

That he was managing not only Rory’s potential scandal, but his daughter as well.

Managing her perfectly, in fact, as all he could see now was Kate falling into the role she had likely spent years perfecting.

The only problem was, he knew she had escaped it and never wanted to go back.

Rory also knew that he couldn’t be the reason she got sucked back into a life she abhorred.

Even if she had been celebrated for it. All the raving reviews of the firm had been specifically of Kate.

Her discretion, her quiet resolution of every contingency.

He knew how strapped she was for cash to fix up the inn.

If her father was bringing her in to assist, would she be able to hold her ground?

How badly did she need the money from this job?

Quinton knew Rory was staying at her inn.

He had orchestrated the entire situation.

And Rory had to admit the man was a master, but it was obviously a shock to Kate.

Rory hadn’t hired the man to manipulate his own daughter.

He needed his professional situation managed, not the fragile connection he had with his innkeeper damaged.

He spoke up. “This is unacceptable.” At Quinton’s sardonic brow, Rory forged on, annoyed at the man’s demeanor and determined not to drag Kate into his situation.

“I expect you to manage this situation, not pull someone else in to do the work for you.”

But Kate suddenly became the embodiment of everything he had heard. “Why don’t you both fill me in on the details, so I can help,” she said graciously.

“You don’t have to do this,” said Rory.

“I know,” Kate said quietly, “but I will.”

Rory searched her eyes, but she was all business. Quinton started talking. Rory held back his irritation at the man, certain that making a scene in the Ivy Way Tea Shop was the last thing Kate wanted.

They talked for a solid hour, Ivy swinging by with cheesy panini sandwiches and tomato basil soup.

A pot of tea appeared, followed by a selection of scones.

Once begun, the meeting went effortlessly.

Kate voiced no objection to anything Quinton proposed.

By the end of the meeting, Kate was handling the press releases for the band and would be in contact with Nolan.

She’d review the recent podcasts and present ideas for other controlled appearances to promote the band during their lull between concerts.

Rory had no doubt that all his problems would be handled.

He had nothing to worry about. In fact, he was certain he’d be able to go back to his life and that all would be solved.

Except…when would Kate have time to work on this? He knew she had a tight schedule with her inn, that she wanted it open by the first of the year. And was even hoping that with her new furniture she could maybe open by Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving. Rory only had until then to have all the new songs written and be ready to be back on tour for the holiday concerts.

Quinton left, and they sat alone at the table, not quite making eye contact.

Rory hated it. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She was brisk, businesslike.

“You didn’t want this.”

“Nonsense. Now I can afford more repairs on the inn.”

“He manipulated you.”

“He owns a management firm.”

“For reputations.”

“For always.” She sounded resigned. Finally, she looked at him. “You didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Rory shifted, uncomfortable. “About my stalker-fan? Crazy stalker-girl? When would I bring that up? Over breakfast? When we were playing the piano? In the basement?”

They stared at one another as all they had shared in the basement, the merging of past and present, flooded their thoughts. Together, they were so much more than this scandal.

Kate shook herself a little. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe before she showed up at my front door demanding to know why I would rent you a room and not her.”

“Wait, she what?”

“She showed up at the inn and asked about you. That’s how I found out who you are. I didn’t just randomly decide to do an internet search on you. Why would I? I thought you were just Seymour’s grandson, not a rock band keyboardist for Endeavor Street.” She shook her head.

Her disapproval irked Rory. “Hey, I’m still the same guy, the one willing to help you with your Harvest Festival performance.” He so totally wanted to help her now, but she was shaking her head.

“No, you were right to hesitate. It’s too risky. You need to lay low. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s important to you.” His words were soft. Suddenly Rory wanted to perform the musical score with Kate at his side in front of the entire town of Hazard more than anything. No doubts, not anymore.

“Nonsense,” Kate said in the brisk tone she used for business.

And Rory hated it, hated her using that tone on him. She was managing him, and it frustrated him.

But she was on a roll. “I’ll take care of everything we decided today. I can get the press releases drafted and ready for your approval by tomorrow afternoon. I’ll reach out to Nolan to coordinate.”

“You don’t need to do that.” He heard the imploring in his tone.

She laid her hand on his arm. “I do.”

“Nolan isn’t in charge.”

Kate raised a brow.

“I only pay Nolan to act like he’s in charge.”

Brow still raised, she waited, silently demanding the explanation Rory couldn’t deny her. “I don’t like to boss my bandmates.”

“Ah, so you’re the one in charge, but you don’t want them to know.”

Rory gave a curt nod, and he could see Kate understood it all in the blink of an eye.

And that to her, this meant he’d essentially lied to his band.

She wasn’t wrong, and it was clear she didn’t approve, but that flash was there and gone in an instant.

If he didn’t know her so well, he would have missed it.

He felt himself falling in her estimation by the second, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

He was now a client, and clients obviously did not equate with friends in Kate’s world.

Cool, professional Katrina didn’t approve of him.

Of that, he was certain. Oh, she would work for him, solve his stalker scandal problem, but the relationship they had been building, the closeness they had forged romping through tunnels and sharing the past history of her inn…

that was over. And he couldn’t help but grieve that loss.