Kiss Me at Last (A Wescott Springs Novella) by Holly Cortelyou

Author:Holly Cortelyou [Cortelyou, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: mountains, sweet, small town, chocolate, romance, heartwarming, wine
Publisher: Holly Cortelyou
Published: 2016-11-12T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

THE NEXT DAY, Friday, passed by in a blur of meetings with clients and driving from one job to another to check on progress. Sean had been keeping tabs on things via his foreman, but there was nothing like an onsite inspection. He'd subbed out the sanding and refinishing of the floors in the White Rose and had told Melinda that the bar was off-limits today as the stain dried and again tomorrow when the poly finish on the oak floors cured.

Melinda had been busy with prepping for a fundraiser that night and had insisted that he needed to go with her.

The bickering, um...invitation, had started at breakfast.

"You're going to the fundraiser tonight, right?" Melinda cracked the last egg into a bowl and whisked it vigorously.

Sean made a noncommittal noise and decided to play dumb. He had better things to do on a Friday night than get dressed up to eat cheese cubes and discuss the coming snowfall.

"That's not an answer. Everyone is going."

"I don't have a ticket, and I believe they're all sold out."

"You can come as my guest. Since I'm hosting a booth, I can smuggle you in with ease."

"I don't have anything to wear. I'm not the suit and tie kind."

"Nonsense. It isn't fancy at all." Melinda poured the eggs into the piping hot skillet and waived the spatula threateningly at Sean. "Slacks and a collared shirt will be fine. Besides, you have to go. It will be good for business."

"Your business is food. Of course it is mandatory for you."

"It'll be the perfect time for you to get out and chat up future clients. You never know who's thinking about a remodel or a new business."

"You have a point," Sean admitted. "I haven't been to one of these shindigs in almost a year. Colette always made me go."

"She was right. You've got to network."

"She only wanted me to go so she could be seen."

"Ha! I want you to go so you'll be seen. Build your business. Just don't wear dusty, ripped work jeans."

Sean laughed. "I might have something I can dig out of the closet."

Melinda eyed him up and down. "I do think you'll clean up tolerably well."

Sean pretended to tip his hat to her and mouthed, "Thanks," with a sardonic glance.

Now, a mere twelve hours later, he stood in the Wescott Springs Resort main ballroom, and it was hopping. The Taste of Chocolate soiree and fundraiser was a rip-roaring success, or so Sean assumed since the vast room was bursting with a chattering throng.

All the guests were busy with their small plates of various appetizers and with their brimming glasses of berry-tinted wines or amber-hued ales. A breeze wafted through the bank of French doors swung wide to let in the fresh, dusky air as the last glinting sun rays shot from behind the mountains.

As the cover band wrapped up a set, Sean ended his conversation with the mayor of Wescott Springs and their local state representative and searched the room for Melinda. It was her laugh that drew him in first.

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