Chapter 8

Deirdre set up a time to meet with Norma about the police department party on her way out of Wyatt’s office on Tuesday afternoon. She had all of her hands on-deck for the Clawson wedding that weekend, and she wouldn’t be returning to the station until the following week.

Luckily, Wyatt seemed interested in her and willing to give her another chance after her rejection last weekend. Their date for Friday night crept closer and closer, until finally the day dawned bright and beachy, just like it usually did in Getaway Bay.

Deirdre arrived at Your Tidal Forever early, before even Sunny, who seemed perpetually perched at the desk in the lobby. She got a great hour of work finished before anyone else stepped foot in the building, and she turned her attention to her next clients.

She already had the initial meeting set up with Norma, but she should make contact with her next bride. She leafed through the folder to find the name of the woman she’d be working with for the next six months to make sure she got the wedding of her dreams.

After finding the number, she made the call to Michelle DeGraw, who answered the phone on the second ring. “You’re from Your Tidal Forever, aren’t you?” she asked, her words running together. “Oh my goodness, I’m so excited. So excited. You have no idea. I’ve been saving for three years for this wedding, so I could hire you.” She took a deep breath, and Deirdre probably should’ve interjected. But she didn’t know what to say.

“I know the wedding isn’t until next April, but I’m ready to get started now. My fiancé is off-island right now, but you don’t need to meet him to get started, do you? I mean, Johnny said he doesn’t even care what I do for the wedding. So…”

“Michelle,” Deirdre said, shaking her head and laughing a little. “I’m glad you’re excited for your wedding. I’m thrilled to be working with you. I’m Deirdre Bernard, and I’m going to be your wedding planner.” She tapped on her laptop to get the screen to brighten back up. “You’re going to get your tidal forever, I can promise you that. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself, and we’ll see if we can get something on the schedule for next week.”

“Okay,” Michelle said. “I’m Michelle DeGraw, and I work as a pediatric dental assistant in East Bay. I love working with kids, and I love dogs.” Breath. “And Johnny and I met at a dog training camp. He had this huge schnauzer. You should’ve seen it!” Breath. “Anyway…”

Deirdre wondered if she’d gotten in over her head as Michelle continued to talk. A few minutes later, she said, “I can take a half-day off on Wednesday if that works for you?”

She looked at her calendar, which was fairly wide open, and said, “One o’clock? I can order in lunch.”

Michelle squealed, and Deirdre pressed her eyes closed until she stopped. “I can’t wait!”

“Me either,” Deirdre said. She sighed as she set her phone on her desk. Most brides were enthusiastic about their own weddings, and Michelle wasn’t that different from most of the other women Deirdre had served.

An alarm went off on her phone, and she silenced it. She pressed her palms against the desk and drew in a deep breath. “Game time.” She left her office and stuck her head into Meg’s. “You ready?”

She held up one finger, and Deirdre saw she was on the phone. She held up both palms in surrender and continued down the hall to Hope’s office. But it was dark, and Shannon wasn’t at her desk either.

Deirdre turned around as the sound of heels clicking toward her, and Shannon smiled. “I have the key,” she said, holding it out in front of her. “You better get going. I heard the setup for this is elaborate.”

“I’ve done it twice this week,” Deirdre said. “It’s going to go great.” She took the key from Shannon with a smile. “And be honest. Did you give me Michelle DeGraw as punishment for missing the last meeting?” She tried to hold back her giggle, but it came spilling out.

Shannon laughed too. “She’s exuberant, isn’t she?”

“Excitable,” Deirdre said.

“Enthusiastic.” Shannon took her place behind her desk.

Deirdre laughed again. “You win.” She indicated Hope’s dark office. “Hope’s not in?”

“She and Aiden had an appointment.” Shannon met Deirdre’s eye, and they both nodded.

“Good for them,” Deirdre said. “I hope it works for them.” She pocketed the key and retraced her steps back to Meg’s office.

She tossed her laptop in her huge purse and looked up. “I’m ready.”

“Where are we going for lunch?” Deirdre asked as her friend walked toward her.

“The Liaison,” Meg said.

“Really?” Deirdre asked. “They don’t even have anything worth eating there.” The Liaison served “healthy food you can feel good about eating,” but it didn’t actually taste good. And Deirdre was too old to put something in her mouth that didn’t bring her great satisfaction.

“You said you’d buy me lunch at the establishment of my choice if I helped you set up.” Meg gave her a pointed look as she passed Deirdre and left her office. “I mean, without me, will you even make it to your dinner date with the ultra-hot Chief of Police tonight?” She really hit the T on the last word, and Deirdre rolled her eyes.

“Ultra-hot?” She followed Meg down the hall to the back exit, where the vans were kept. They had half a dozen stops to make to pick up the supplies, from the chair sleeves to the flowers to the fish bowls which Deirdre would lovingly fill with water and then delicately drop floating candles onto the surface. The addition of real fire always warmed a space, and Deirdre couldn’t wait to see everything come together for the nuptials tomorrow.

This afternoon though, all she needed to do was make sure the party rental company showed up with the right tents and the correct number of chairs. She and Meg would dress everything up, and then tomorrow morning, they’d finish with lighting the candles and arranging all of the flowers just-so.

“Please,” Meg said. “If you can’t admit that your new boyfriend is ultra-hot, you need to get your eyes checked.”

“One, he’s not my boyfriend,” Deirdre said. She wasn’t seventeen years old. “Two, I prefer the word handsome. He’s ultra-handsome.” He wasn’t seventeen either.

“Fine,” Meg said. “I can get on-board with that description.” They climbed into the van, and Deirdre put her purse between the two bucket seats up front. “Are you so excited for tonight?”

“You know what?” Deirdre asked. “I am. Now, help me decide where to go—and do not say The Liaison. I want to get a second date.”

***

Deirdre tugged on a pair of cute ankle boots, anxious as Wyatt was set to arrive any moment. Sure enough, the doorbell rang before she’d zipped up the second boot, and she hurried to finish the job. Jumping to her feet, she darted out of her bedroom and down the hall, calling, “Coming.”

She pulled open the door, her heart racing in her chest. Wyatt stood there, tall and broad and utterly charming with that small smile on his face and all that salt peppered in his dark hair.

“Evening, Deirdre,” he said, his deep voice strumming something deep inside her stomach.

“Hey,” she said. “I’m almost ready. You wanna come in?”

“Sure.” He stepped into her house as she inched back, still holding the door. She closed it behind him and went to get her purse.

“I just need my bag and to make sure I have lights on, so I don’t have to come home in the dark.”

“Smart.”

Deirdre’s cells rioted as she reached for a switch to flood the kitchen with light. She smiled at Wyatt as she turned, and her ankle buckled in the wedged boots. She grunted as she righted herself, her hand flying out to catch herself against the kitchen counter.

“You okay?” Wyatt asked, his hand landing on her arm too, as if he could steady her. Her skin sizzled where his met it, and she first looked at his fingers and then his face.

She swallowed, because she knew why she was so nervous. Yes, he was ultra-handsome and Deirdre was a tiny bit anxious because of that. She liked him a lot, and his opinion of her was very important to her.

And as soon as she told him about her daughter and the restraining order, she didn’t think he’d fight quite so hard to be in her life.

“Deirdre?”

“I’m okay,” she said quickly, sliding her hand away. He removed his fingers from her arm and backed up a step.

“Where are we going for dinner?”

“The Indian House?” Why she’d phrased it as a question, she wasn’t sure. “Do you like Indian food?”

“Love it,” he said. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” She preceded him to the door, and relief spread through her when she saw he’d driven his own car. A civilian Jeep. Not his police cruiser. The last thing she needed was every eye in Getaway Bay on her for a simple dinner date.

They’d texted quite a bit over the last three days, but Chief Wyatt had a strict ten p.m. bedtime that he did not break. Deirdre had trouble sleeping after their late-night texting sessions, and she wondered if it might have been easier to tell him about Emma and the restraining order via text instead of face-to-face.

But she’d been worried that this face-to-face dinner would be called off if she did, and while she’d said no to his dinner invitation a week ago, she now found herself desperately wanting to see if they could make a relationship work this time.

He helped her into the Jeep, which was quite the step up in her wedges, his hand warm on her lower back. “Tell him,” she muttered to herself as he rounded the hood and opened the driver’s side door.

“Wyatt,” she said.

He started the vehicle and looked at her.

“I have to tell you something.” She slicked her palms down the front of her jeans. Deirdre hated feeling like this. The nerves. The uncertainty. The guilt. The shame.

She’d sat in a courtroom and felt this level of unease. She really disliked being falsely accused, and she couldn’t stand that sometimes there was injustice in the justice system.

“Deirdre,” he said. “If you don’t want to go out with me, it’s fine.”

“I do,” she said, finally forcing herself to look fully at him. His dark eyes drank her up, and Deirdre could get lost for a good long while in eyes like that. “It’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

“You’re a public figure, right?”

“Oh, boy,” he said.

“People like to dig into the past of people like you.”

“It’s not an elected position,” he said. “I’m not the Sheriff.”

“But you can’t date like, a criminal or anything.”

Wyatt opened his mouth to speak but promptly shut it again. His eyes held a new glint now, and Deirdre could see the detective in him. “Deirdre?”

“I have a restraining order against me,” she said. “My daughter filed it, and though it’s pretty much a load of crap, it still got approved because I called her cell phone before the hearing. I thought I had the phone in my car, and I couldn’t find it. I wanted to give it back to her father, but that violated the temporary order, and the judge didn’t care that I thought I had the phone. He said it was an attempt to contact her, when I’d been ordered not to.” She was aware that she’d turned into Michelle DeGraw, talking faster and faster without breathing.

She took a long breath and slowed down. “That’s why I don’t talk to my daughter. When all of that happened, I moved to Getaway Bay.”

He said nothing, those police eyes searching her face.

“So I understand if you don’t want to go out with me,” she said, her heart wailing a little bit at the prospect of losing him before she’d really had a chance to be with him. He hadn’t been ready last time, and she’d blown him off last weekend.

Finally, Wyatt flipped the Jeep into reverse and backed out of her driveway. “Indian House? My wife loves the butter chicken there. What’s your favorite dish?”