Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
He loved that about his mom. She was sixty-one going on thirty-five, full of energy and always making plans for the future. Before they ended the call, she said, “And when I come, make sure I get to meet Mila.”
Chapter Twelve
Mila took the stained wedding gown with her to the office on Monday. It was a busy day, but the hours she’d put in on Sunday afternoon meant everything was going smoothly on the closing and the deed transfer. With a cup of hot black coffee by her side, she’d worked steadily, not only on Hersch’s house, but also on a couple of other deals she had cooking. She was trying to help a nice young couple buy their first home so they could start a family, and another couple were thinking about selling their exciting treetop two-bedroom but hadn’t decided yet. She was itching to list such an unusual house. She checked in with both couples, and then at lunchtime, decided she’d better get Tessa’s wedding dress to the dry cleaner.
It was a gorgeous day, and she relished the fresh, salty air and that buzzy feeling she always got at the start of a new week—like anything was possible. Her office was just a few minutes from Ocean Avenue, where so many of Carmel’s restaurants and high-end boutiques lined the streets and where her trusted dry cleaner had been operating for twenty years. She loved living here, even after all the travel she’d done when pro surfing. No other place in the world gave her the tingly feeling Carmel did. It was home.
She passed Saint Anna’s, where she resisted popping in for another coffee, or a pastry—treats were mostly relegated to the weekends and Tuesday coffee dates with Erin and Tessa. In the window, she saw a young family she’d worked with to secure them a new home last year. The smiles on their faces when they spotted her were so wide and sincere, she waved back enthusiastically. It was the part of her job she relished the most—helping people find their dream homes. Yes, the thrill of closing a big-dollar deal was a high of its own, but serving the community and getting to meet so many new people week in and week out gave her the kind of job satisfaction she knew she needed since her surfing career had ended.
Then she noticed her former clients raising confused eyebrows. She looked down. Of course. She was carrying a wedding dress—they could see it through the clear plastic zipper bag. She tried to gesture that the dress didn’t belong to her, but since this was impossible to do one-handed, she just shrugged and waved good-bye. She wasn’t planning to get tied down anytime soon—even if her mind was full of a certain man right now.
She hiked up the bag and was about to push open the door to the dry cleaner when she literally bumped into Herschel Greenfield. Apart from the immediate electric thrill she felt from coming into contact with his body, she was also a little spooked. Had she just summoned his presence by thinking about him so much? It was like the universe was having fun with her. When she recovered her composure and focused, she was pleased to see his face had lit up.
She grinned and suddenly had no idea what to say to the man she’d been talking to in her head all day long.
“Hey there,” he said. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”
Had she been walking quickly? Probably. She was always conscious of time. “I’m just taking a wedding dress to be cleaned.”
“Oh,” he said, and then the light in his eyes faded. “You’re married?” He sounded extremely disappointed as his eyes darted to her left hand.
She laughed. “Oh, hell no. Marriage is not for me. I can’t imagine being stuck with one man all my—” She abruptly stopped. What was wrong with her? Again, she’d blurted something completely inappropriate. She was mortified.
Hersch must have thought it was inappropriate, too, because his expression became confused and then hurt—as though he was taking her words straight to his heart. She stared at him, puzzled by the strong reaction. But then she realized something else. Even as she spoke, she’d wondered whether it might not be true anymore, because there was a very secret part of her that had started thinking of Herschel Greenfield as The One.
To her embarrassment, she blushed. Mila Davenport never blushed, not even when her bikini top rode up while surfing, not when she misremembered the square footage of a house, not even when her career had been upended. Desperate to move the conversation to a different track, she said, “Are you going to the dry cleaner too?” It wasn’t the most scintillating question, but at least it was neutral ground.