Best of My Love (Fool's Gold, #20)(92)

“You really think he’s moving to Los Lobos?” she asked, more than a little doubtful.

“That’s what he tells me. Until he finds a place of his own, I’ve reserved the groundskeeper’s bungalow for him.”

“Nice digs,” Courtney murmured. “He’ll never want to leave.”

Although to be honest, she couldn’t imagine the famous, Malibu-living music executive finding happiness in their sleepy little Central California town, but stranger things had happened.

“I’ll check his arrival date and make sure I’m assigned to clean it,” she told her boss.

“Thank you, dear. I appreciate the gesture.”

“It’s not exactly a gesture. It’s kind of my job.”

While she was considered a jack-of-all-trades at the hotel, her actual title was maid. The work wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills, and right now that was what mattered to her.

“It wouldn’t be if you’d—”

Courtney held up her hand. “I know. Accept a different job. Tell my family about my big secret. Marry Prince Harry. I’m sorry, Joyce. There are only so many hours in a day. I need to have priorities.”

“You’re picking the wrong ones. Prince Harry would love you.”

Courtney smiled. “You are sweet and I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, about the wedding.”

Courtney groaned. “Do we have to?”

“Yes. Your mother is getting married in a few months. I know you’re taking care of the engagement party but there’s also the wedding.”

“Uh-huh.”

Joyce raised her eyebrows. “Is that a problem?”

“No, ma’am.”

It wasn’t that Courtney minded her mother remarrying. Maggie had been a widow for literally decades. It was long past time for her mom to find a great guy and settle down. Nope, it wasn’t the marriage that was the problem—it was the wedding. Or rather the wedding planning.

“You’re trying to get me into trouble,” she murmured.

“Who, me?” Joyce’s attempt to look innocent failed miserably.

Courtney rose. “All right, you crafty lady. I will do my best with both the party and the wedding.”

“I knew you would.”

Courtney bent down and kissed Joyce’s cheek, then straightened, turned and ran smack into Kelly Carzo—waitress and, until this second, a friend.

Kelly, a pretty, green-eyed redhead, tried to keep hold of the tray of coffee mugs she’d been carrying, but the force was too great. Mugs went flying, hot liquid rained down and in less than three seconds, Courtney, Joyce and Kelly were drenched, and the shattered remains of six mugs lay scattered on the floor.

The restaurant had been relatively quiet before. Now it went silent as everyone turned to stare. At least there were only a couple of other customers and a handful of staff. Not that word of her latest mishap wouldn’t spread.

Joyce stood and scooped Sarge out of harm’s way, then ordered Pearl to move back. “What is it your sister says in times like this?”

Courtney pulled her wet shirt away from her body and smiled apologetically at Kelly. “That I’m pulling a Courtney. You okay?”

Kelly brushed at her black pants. “Never better, but you are so paying for my dry cleaning.”

“I swear. Right after I help you with this mess.”

“I’m going to get changed,” Joyce told them. “The prerogative of being the owner.”

“I’m really sorry,” Courtney called after her.

“I know, dear. It’s fine.”

No, Courtney thought as she went to get a broom and a mop. It wasn’t fine. But it sure was her life.

*

“I WANT TO match my dress. Just one streak. Mo-om, what could it hurt?”

Rachel Halcomb pressed her fingers against her temple as she felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. The Saturday of Los Lobos High’s spring formal was always a crazy one for the salon where she worked. Teenage girls came in to be coiffed and teased into a variety of dance-appropriate styles. They traveled in packs, which she didn’t mind. But the high-pitched shrieks and giggles were starting to get to her.

Her client—Lily—desperately wanted a bright purple streak to go with her floor-length dress. Her hair was long, wavy and a beautiful shade of auburn. Rachel had clients who would fork out hundreds to get that exact color while Lily had simply hit the hair lottery.

Lily’s mom bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know,” she said, sounding doubtful. “Your father will have a fit.”

“It’s not his hair. And it’ll look great in the pictures. Come on, Mom. Aaron asked me. You know what that means. I have to look amazing. We’ve only been living here three months. I have to make a good impression. Please?”

Ah, the most amazing boy ever asked me out combined with the powerful I’m new in school argument. A one-two punch. Lily knew her stuff. Rachel had never been on the receiving end of that particular tactic, but knew how persuasive kids could be. Her son was only eleven, but already an expert at pushing her buttons. She doubted she’d had the same level of skill when she’d been his age.

Lily swung toward Rachel. “You can use the kind that washes out, right? So it’s temporary?”