Almost Like Being in Love (10 page)

“We need a photo of the three of us.” Margo tugged her toward the falls. “Get over here!”

The roar of the falls submerged the sound of their laughter, the spray dampening their hair.

“I've never seen anything like this.” Caron turned to face the waterfall again. “Can you imagine wedding photos up here?”

“The events planner said you could have your ceremony up at the top of the falls, right?”

“Yes.” Caron couldn't stop her shoulders from slumping as she covered her camera with the lens cap. “Let's keep driving. I want to get to the top and see what it's like.”

Crouching down, Emma took one last photo of Bridal Veil Falls. “Envisioning a wedding?”

“Sort of.”

“What's wrong?” Margo faced her, head tilted to the side, nose scrunched.

“What do you mean, ‘What's wrong'?” Caron stood her ground, slippery as it was, but not quite making eye contact.

“You were all excited and then
poof!
It's like someone stuck a pin in you and all the enthusiasm disappeared. You're not nervous about telling Alex about winning the wedding, are you?”

“No . . . yes.” Caron tucked her phone back in her jacket pocket. “Alex is wonderful. But what guy wants to hear his girlfriend say, ‘Guess what, darling, I won a wedding! Ready to get married now?' ”

“I'm sure you'll figure out a way to say it better than that. And besides, according to the rules, you have a year to redeem the prize.”

“A year. It sounds like a long time, but when it comes to planning a wedding, it's not.”

“So you go home tonight. You tell Alex in the next couple of days—whenever the time is right—and then you start planning. I'm
pulling off a wedding in three months. You can do this, Caron.”

“And you'll help me, right? I mean, you'll help me plan the wedding—not to tell Alex.”

“Of course. But first, let's finish the drive to the top of the falls and then get you back to Denver so you don't miss your flight.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Caron took one last photo of the waterfall. “This may be the only time I'm thankful I took a later flight.”

M
aybe she should have listened to Margo and stayed in Colorado for two weeks. Of course, it was far too late to be rethinking that decision, considering her boarding pass for her flight from Denver to Fort Walton Beach was stuck between the pages of the novel she'd finished on the flight home. She'd returned late last night and spent today unpacking, doing laundry, and sorting through the stack of mail Alex had left on her dining room table.

Alex.

Caron fashioned her hair into a messy bun, clipping it in place. She'd also spent the day waiting for Alex to call—and half hoping he wouldn't.

She practiced her announcement out loud for the hundredth time. “Hi, Alex. Colorado was wonderful. And guess what? I won a destination wedding.”

Still didn't work.

Maybe by the time she finished her as-regular-as-they-could-schedule-it Skype session with Logan, she'd know how to tell
Alex about her matrimonial surprise. But for now, she'd do one last check to ensure she had everything she needed for tonight's conversation, and then sign on.

Comfy pair of old sweatpants cut into shorts. T-shirt. Bare feet.
Check. Check. Check.

Glass of sweet tea.
Check.

Bowl of pretzel sticks.
Check.

Smaller bowl of whipped cream cheese to dip her pretzels in.
Check.

Caron moved the glass of tea closer to the edge of the coffee table before settling into the corner of the couch. Nine o'clock Monday night Niceville time—Logan should be on Skype. Time for her to get online, too. She'd taken her laundry from her washing machine to her dryer, and moved another load from her dryer to a laundry basket so she could fold clothes while they chatted. Home from Colorado for all of one day and her life was almost back in order.

Of course, not having to go in to work provided her plenty of extra time to do what she needed to do—including avoid her boyfriend.

And no matter what else happened in life, some things never changed, including Skyping with her brother. Even though Logan was married and continued to chase tornadoes with his team, the Stormeisters, Logan somehow found time to catch up with her online. The Internet was in a good mood tonight and they connected on their first attempt.

“How's life on the Gulf Coast, Caro?” As the Skype connection activated, Logan's body blocked the computer screen. He adjusted the desk lamp so she could see his face better, instead of staring at a dim blur, and then sat down.

“To be honest, it's been interesting.”

“Do tell.”

“Where to start?”
She sipped her tea, acknowledging to herself that she was stalling. “Well, I went to Colorado last week to visit Margo. While I was there I won a destination wedding—”

“Seriously? Destination weddings are becoming a family tradition. I didn't even know Alex had proposed.”

“He hasn't.”

Logan almost choked on his gulp of Coke. Even though she couldn't see into his tumbler, Caron knew it was flavored with lemon slices, a long-standing quirk of her brother's. “Now I'm confused. You won a wedding, but you're not engaged yet?”

“I admit things are a little out of order. But Alex and I have talked about getting married. Occasionally. And my winning the wedding was purely accidental—”

“How do you accidentally win a destination wedding?” He held up his hand, blocking the screen. “Don't tell me, I don't want to know. You can explain all that to Vanessa, who wants to talk to you when we're done. Where is this destination wedding going to be?”

Caron adjusted the tasseled pillow behind her back, balancing her laptop on her knees. “Colorado . . . Telluride, to be exact.”

“That's in the San Juan Mountains, isn't it?”

“Yes. And they're stunning. It's a National Historic Landmark District, if you can believe that.”

“Impressive.”

“Anyway, Margo and I drove down there this past weekend before I flew home. Check out my Instagram account if you want to see some of my photos.”

“That'll be fun. So, Alex hasn't proposed. You've won a destination wedding. Only you, little sister. Only you.” Logan ran his fingers through his dark blond hair. “This is one of the craziest conversations we've ever had.”

“You keep hassling me, big brother, and I won't tell you the other reason I wanted to talk to you tonight.”

“Hey, I'm hassling you because I
am
your big brother. It's my duty.” Logan offered her a smile that charmed her even through the computer screen. “You know I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And besides, after all this, I don't know if I want you to tell me anything else.”

“Believe me, you're not going to want to miss this news flash.” Caron nibbled on a pretzel dipped in cream cheese. “I'm being serious now, Logan.”

“You weren't before?” Logan held up his hands in mock surrender. “I'm sorry. What's up, Caron?”

“I quit working for Dad.”

“About time. How's Mom?”

“Wait a minute.” Caron dropped her pretzel back into the bowl of cream cheese. “I tell you I quit working for Dad and all you have to say is ‘About time' and ‘How's Mom'?”

“Caro, you've needed to quit working for Dad for months. Years, even. I'm not sure you should have ever worked for him. Now you can figure out what you really want to be when you grow up.”

“I know what I want to be when I grow up.” Caron sat up, planting her feet on the floor. “I
am
a grown-up. I want to be a Realtor. I am a Realtor.”

“Can we be honest here? You're a Realtor because Dad's a Realtor, just like you played basketball in high school because Dad likes basketball.”

“I was good at basketball.”

“I didn't say you weren't. But would you have played basketball if Dad hadn't been crazy about basketball? All those times you and he sat around drawing up brackets during March Madness?
I never understood the attraction. But I get it that if you played basketball, Dad could come to your games.”

“Well, of course I wanted Dad to come to my games. And Mom and you—”

“But you didn't ask Mom and me how you did. You sat there while Dad dissected every play, and if he said something as simple as ‘nice job,' well, you would have thought you'd scored all the points that night.”

Caron chose to ignore her brother's assessment of her relationship with her father. “I played basketball because I wanted to play basketball. Nobody made me go out for the team, Logan.”

“But why did you want to play basketball?” Logan's tone was almost detached. “And if you love the game so much, how come you haven't touched a ball in years?”

“I . . . I'm busy. I have a job. Well, I had a job.” Caron resisted throwing one of the decorative sofa pillows at the computer screen. Barely. “Look, Logan, I wanted to tell you that I quit working for Dad. I didn't ask you to psychoanalyze me.”

“Fine. You want to tell me why you quit?”

“Only if you'll listen.”

Logan settled back in his chair, hands folded across his chest, obscuring the Stormeisters' logo on his T-shirt. “I'm listening.”

“Dad formed a partnership with Nancy Miller.”

“Yeah, he told me about that. She's another big-deal Realtor in town, right?”

“He told you?” Caron barely stopped herself from spewing her sweet tea onto her computer.

“What's the matter?”

“When did he tell you?”

“I don't know. I think he mentioned it a month ago, maybe two. The last time we talked. It's not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal.
I find out with the rest of the employees—but you . . . and Mom . . . probably even Vanessa . . . knew before I did.”

“But that's different.”

“How? How is that different?”

“I don't work for Dad. Neither does Vanessa or Mom.” Logan leaned forward, his face looming closer. “You chose to be his employee, Caron. Why don't you see that things have to be handled differently between you and Dad? You can't expect special treatment because you're his daughter.”

“I'm not asking for special treatment—”

“Yes, you are. And when you calm down, you'll realize it. That's called nepotism. Is that how you want to get ahead? Because Dad made things easy for you? Because you had an ‘in' with the boss?”

This conversation was spiraling out of control. What had happened to Logan, her big brother who was always there for her?

“Is that what you really think, Logan?”

“Now that you're not working for Dad, I think you have a perfect opportunity to really think about what you want out of life . . .”

“You and Mom . . .”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Caron pressed her fingertips against the bridge of her nose. “I've got to go . . .”

“Caro, stop. Don't be like this—”

She tried to muster a smile. To end the conversation on some kind of pleasant note. “Like you said, I need time to think. We'll talk later.”

“Vanessa's right here. Can't you at least talk to her?”

“No . . . I'm sorry. Not tonight. I'm tired after a late flight last night and . . .”
Somehow this phone conversation had backed her into a virtual corner. “Give her my love.”

“Will do. I love you—”

“Love you, too.”

Logan's face disappeared as she clicked on the red circle with the white phone emblem on the computer screen. Then she shoved her computer off her lap onto the coffee table and slammed the lid closed. Usually a Skype session with Logan resulted in a huge grin.

But tonight, Logan had poked and prodded her with his words.

Would you have played basketball if Dad hadn't been crazy about basketball?

Is that how you want to get ahead—because Dad made things easy for you?

You can't expect special treatment because you're his daughter.

Is that what she'd done? Expected special treatment because she was the boss's daughter? Somehow her relationship with her father and her role as his employee got all tangled up. And both left her wondering, “What more do I have to do?”

And which came first—daughter or employee?

That ought to be an easy question to answer. She was a daughter first and an employee second.

But if she was honest with herself, she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt as if her father saw her as special—for any reason at all.