Midlife Love Story

“I don’t listen to rumors, only facts.”

“In that case, the first tacos that roll off the truck are on me.” I notched my chin a little higher and smiled.

Before Chase could utter another word, Margot was there in front of me with a nervous expression. “Sorry to interrupt Chase, but I really need to speak to Carlotta privately.”

“Absolutely,” he said in that always gruff tone. “Nice to see you Carlotta.” His gaze lingered for a moment before he turned and walked away.

I gave Margot my full attention. “What’s up?”

“I heard you were starting the plans for Pippa and Ryan’s wedding. Do we have a date? Anything confirmed?”

“No,” I sighed. Margot had made The Old Country House happen. It was her dream, her baby, and her land. But she was a Type A to the extreme, which could be a lot to deal with at times. “This week I’ll put the wedding book together and send you whatever tentative dates I have.”

“Okay great,” she sighed and her shoulders sagged in relief. “It would be embarrassing if the town’s biggest star didn’t get married at our premier event space.”

“Incredibly,” I agreed, my tone mock-serious.

“Carlotta,” she sighed. “I’m allowed to stress about this.”

“You absolutely are, stress away,” I assured her. “But you are not allowed to stress me out about it, not when I’m juggling multiple events per week, and most of them are held on this estate.”

“All right.” Margot nodded absently, her violet eyes bounced around the room as they took in every detail. “This is gorgeous Carlotta. Would you mind if I took a few photos to use as inspiration?”

“Not at all.” Before I could tell her to stay out of the photographer’s way, Margot had her sleek, rose gold phone in hand, snapping photos of everything from the table settings and centerpieces, to the layout and glassware. “All right.” With another problem solved, sort of, I went to check on the cake.

After the cake was cut, I could relax until it was time to round up all the single folks to catch the bouquet and the garter.

Weddings, am I right?

Chapter 4

Chase

I sat in my office behind the cumbersome oak desk that was supposed to be a piece of Carson Creek history, but really it was just a massive piece of furniture that took up more space than it needed to. I’d tried to change it several times, but the uproar within city hall was so loud that at the end of the day, it wasn’t worth the headache. At least not for me, when my schedule was always filled with tasks to complete, activities to attend, and most dreaded of all, documents to sign.

I loved being able to improve the lives of the people in my hometown, but getting to that point was a gigantic headache most days. Like today. Paperwork was strewn across half of my desk, all of it needed my signature, but I needed to be certain of what I was signing, so I constantly referred to my laptop for details. Back and forth between the two sides of the desk, it was a wonder I didn’t spend most of the day dizzy.

“Yeah,” I growled at the soft knock on my door, assuming it was my assistant CJ. “What is it?”

I didn’t bother to look up when the door opened, because CJ knew to only interrupt me when it was important, and she hadn’t said anything yet, so I assumed it was coffee or more documents to sign. The silence went on, and then the familiar scent of roses tickled my senses. Expensive roses. I knew that smell, and I remembered it well. When I looked up, there she was.

“Carlotta. Hi.”

Her plump lips pulled into a grin. “Mr. Mayor. Is this a good time or should I come back when you’re not quite so grumpy?”

It was hard to get mad when she was smiling at me like that, so I shook my head and waved her in. “Come on in. And I’m not grumpy.”

Her melodic laugh bounced off the walls. “If that’s your not-grumpy voice, I think we’re all in trouble.”

Pippa always called me grumpy, but I really wasn’t, my voice just sounded like that. Some people have resting bitch face, and I have resting grumpy voice. “This is a nice surprise. What brings you by?”

Her brows arched in suspicion. “It’s a nice surprise?”

My face morphed into a scowl. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Carlotta shrugged, the move drew my attention to her almost bare shoulders. She had on one of those sexy, feminine dresses that hugged her top half and flared out at the bottom, showing off her legs and a pair of heels that looked more like torture devices. But hot torture devices.

“I don’t know, it always seems as if you’re annoyed with me for some reason.” She shrugged again, this time as if that didn’t really bother her.