eight pressed against Jonathan throughout the afternoon.
He raced around downtown finalizing the details for the wedding rehearsal and ceremony. The events would run flawlessly, but he couldn’t focus on them. Instead, the image of Alanna’s blond hair serving as a frame that partly hid her face kept cropping up. He’d drive it from his mind, only to have her image reappear.
He hadn’t been this distracted—well, ever.
He strived to be the consummate professional, completely devoted to his work. Then she returned. And his brain didn’t comply with his instructions anymore. The more he told himself to focus and get the job done, the more his thoughts strayed. And that didn’t mention the chaos she brought to his personal life.
When he finally returned to his office, he sank into his chair. He swiveled away from the computer and rubbed his face. He didn’t need the distraction. Not now. Not from her.
His cell phone vibrated against his hip. “Jonathan Covington.”
“Hear anything from the artist?” Edward Morris’s unmistakable voice telegraphed he had other things on his mind.
“I’ve talked to her daughter. I should know something soon.” Like whether Rachelle still painted. Had her arthritis flared up, causing painting to be too painful?
“All right. There isn’t much time. I’m willing to pay for an original.”
“I’ll feel her out before connecting you. Mrs. Stone is a very good artist.”
“You’re hesitating.”
“Only because her husband has health issues that might require her focus.”
“That I understand.”
Jonathan nodded. Edward could understand those pressures. “How is Bonnie?”
“Holding up. I think our plans for the anniversary celebration have given her something to focus on. A date to live for.”
“I’ll do all I can to make it everything she dreams.”
A moment of silence, and then Edward sighed. “I’m counting on it.”
After he hung up, Jonathan stared out his office window. This was an important event. It was smaller than many he organized, but if he made it memorable for Bonnie Morris, all his effort and time would be worthwhile. Her fight with cancer reminded him too much of his mother’s. He stopped to pray for Bonnie.
Tugging the Lyster wedding file in front of him, he double- checked the myriad details involved in the intimate event. Based on the guest list, he could expect new clients from this wedding. If there was one thing he’d learned in event planning, it was that each event generated future leads.
After confirming the setup for the rehearsal dinner, Jonathan pulled out the Standeford file. This couple had differing views on how their wedding should play out, with the groom refusing to bow to the bride. Did he really want to tackle the job of bringing harmony to the event? After a moment of prayer, he dove back into his notes. Ideas began to flow on how to incorporate a movie theme along with the more formal tone the groom and his mother wanted.
He pulled up his planning software and plugged in details. An hour later, he had the outlines of a proposal. He’d expand it later, but for now he needed to check in with Theresa Lyster. Her phone rang to voice mail, and he started a message when she buzzed him.
“Jonathan Covington, if I weren’t getting married in a few days, I’d kiss you.”
He laughed at her giddy words. “Analise and Nicole did a great job?”
“Phenomenal. I may have to move here just to have them keep me relaxed. What a wonderful idea!”
“You’re welcome.”
He heard a rustling, then Theresa whispered, “You should take Jaclyn to dinner and add it to Daddy’s bill.”
Jonathan laughed. “That’s not how I do business, but tell Jaclyn I’ll meet her at Man O’ War at seven.”
Theresa repeated his words. “Thanks again for everything.”
“My pleasure.” He hung up, grinning. If only it were so easy to keep everyone satisfied.
He turned back to his computer and printed the Standeford proposal. Then he spent a few minutes fleshing out thoughts for the Wenzes’ anniversary celebration before shoving his files in his bag. After dinner with Jaclyn, he’d work from home.
As he dodged foot traffic on the way to Man O’ War, Jonathan whistled a Michael Buble tune—one of Jaclyn’s favorites. When he walked through the restaurant’s door, he scanned the dining room for Jaclyn. Often she arrived first to claim a great table for them, but he didn’t spot her. He approached the hostess.
“How many?” The gal spoke with a slight accent, one he couldn’t place, but she blended with the numerous international students who found summer employment on the island.
“Two.”
“Yes, sir.” Another sign she wasn’t a native, or she’d know his name. “It’ll be fifteen to twenty minutes.”
He gave her his name and accepted a pager. Guess he had a few minutes to wander, though she warned him the pager had a limited range.
He strolled Main Street and watched for Jaclyn. Her tight red curls were the kind that made a man want to tease them with his fingers. Though she’d sent every signal she wouldn’t mind, their relationship tended toward friendly but inched toward romance. Her son accepted him with enthusiasm on picnics and bike rides. That had felt like enough.
Before Alanna returned.
He wasn’t sure how that impacted Jaclyn.
Jaclyn bounced into him. “Hey there, handsome.”
“Jaclyn.”
She lifted her cheek for a kiss. He obliged, wondering why their customary greeting felt odd. He couldn’t let Alanna get to him. It wasn’t fair to Jaclyn or him.
He forced his attention to the beautiful woman in front of him as Jaclyn chattered about her day. When the pager vibrated, he pointed her to the door.
“Sorry I didn’t get here earlier.” She tossed her curls. “It’s a big weekend at the Grand. Everybody wants special treatment. The phone didn’t stop ringing all day.”
“Thanks for squeezing in Theresa.”
“Anything for you, Jonathan. You know that.”
The way she said it with stars in her eyes made him feel small. She gave every indication she’d fallen deep—despite his efforts to proceed cautiously. Where her adoration used to make him feel bigger, stronger, tonight it made him question what kind of man he was. He shouldn’t vacillate. A real man committed for the long haul. One glance at Jaclyn showed she thought he had. Leave it to him to lead a great gal along while his heart remained secretly entrenched with another.
Hie hostess led them to a table under the big plate-glass window. Jonathan pulled out the chair for Jaclyn and then angled his away from the window.
“I’ve filled the air. Your turn. How was your day?” Jaclyn plopped her elbows on the table and then her chin on her hands as she studied him.
“After you helped me with a nervous bride, I worked on her special day and planned another.”
“I’ll never understand how you find so many concepts.”
“Lots of magazine subscriptions.”
“Are you serious?”
He straightened the silverware. “That and files. My mom and dad kept everything. That gives me lots to work from.”
“They’re talking about you at the Grand.” Pride showed in her eyes.
That was great news. Prospects from the hotel could fill his calendar.
She frowned, the expression uncommon. “You don’t seem excited.”
“You didn’t see my smile?” He grinned widely. “That’s really good news. Tell them thanks.”
“You can do it next time you come to see me.” She batted her eyelashes.
“Sure.” He leaned back and glanced around the restaurant. Where was their server? A young man in a white shirt and black pants caught his eye and threaded tables toward them.
“What can I get y’all to drink?” A southern accent tinged his words as he slid a basket of warm sourdough rolls between them.
After taking their drink orders, he disappeared, and Jonathan found himself looking at Jaclyn. Tightness etched around her eyes.
“Was there somewhere else you needed to be tonight?”
Jonathan shook his head. He adjusted his stance in the chair,
leaned toward her, and grabbed a piece of bread from the basket. He tore it into small pieces as he studied her. “Guess I’m distracted.”
“You think?”
“Tell me more about your day.” The meal flowed quickly with the server sliding salads in front of them, soon followed by sandwiches. They waived off dessert and stood to leave.
Jaclyn waited in front of him, a question in her eyes.
Regret pierced him. “Sorry about tonight.”
“At least you paid.” While he could tell she meant it as a joke, there was truth to her statement. He hadn’t given her the attention she deserved, but he’d paid.
“Promise next time I’ll be a better companion.”
“All right. I’ll give you another chance. Join me for a picnic at Arch Rock on Memorial Day.”
“I have a wedding.”
“The day before then.”
He could squeeze in time then. “I thought it was one of your busiest days.”
“Nothing I can’t have someone else cover for a couple hours.” Her expression wavered as she swayed from side to side, her skirt swirling around her knees in a slow dance. “Please? We miss you.”
“All right.” The image of her son with eyes the same color as hers confronted him. It had been awhile since he’d seen Dylan. “We’ll do something Sunday afternoon.”
Jaclyn rolled her eyes, but the smile had returned. “See you then.”
She turned to head up the street toward the Grand Hotel. His gaze followed her until it slammed into Alanna’s. All of a sudden he felt as if she’d caught him doing something he shouldn’t. That was ridiculous. He needed to get her out of his head.
Make that his heart.
He spun on his heel without acknowledging her.
Right now he needed to put distance between them. As quickly as possible. Not an easy feat on the small island with their cottages next door to each other. He stopped when he realized he couldn’t get home this way. He had to pass her if he wanted to sleep in his bed. Muttering under his breath that he was a fool, he reversed direction and headed toward her. He’d cut up the street as soon as he could, but he had to get his bike or it would be a long walk home. A long one that provided too much time to berate his foolish, rebellious heart.