Page 7 of Three Little Wishes

She was extra careful these days never to put a wrong foot forward in public, which was why she ranted quietly to Gail about Hugh’s PA, Jeff, Giselle, and the unfairness of it all while standing on the edge of the sidewalk, flagging down a cab.

Gail grimaced at her phone.

“What’s wrong?” Camilla asked, worried that Jeff had already done something.

“Nothing. At least, I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.” Gail offered her a closed-lipped smile. “We can talk about it when we get back to the hotel.”

“No. Tell me now.”

“Willow called. She says it’s urgent. I told her you’d call her back before the end of the day.” She held up her phone. “She texted to see if I had given you her message.”

No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. The last thing Camilla needed was for her secret to come out. It would ruin her. She wouldn’t stand a chance of getting the role. She—

“Cami!”

As she stepped off the sidewalk, Camilla glanced over her shoulder at Gail, and everything went black.

Chapter Three

Willow stood on her pink electric scooter, whizzing past the B and Bs and their rainbow-colored summer gardens and the eclectic mix of bakeries, bars, cafés, and shops that lined Main Street. It was just her luck that the sun had come out in time for the dinner crowd to fill up the patios.

Everyone from year-rounders to out-of-towners to waitstaff had an opinion of her five o’clock weather report, and they were only too happy to share them with her.

“What happened to Lucy?” “Why did you report the weather from inside the station?” “It was boring!” “So boring! Boo!” “We want Lucy!”

The questions and comments being shouted at her from both sides of Main Street affirmed Willow’s belief that, other than Amos and the over-seventy crowd, no one really cared about her weather reports. All they cared about was Lucy the Lobster giving them a few laughs.

Everyone needed a laugh now and again and she was happy to provide them with one if it made their day a little brighter. But the last thing she could afford was for Bennett Broadcasting’s acting CEO, Noah Elliot, to see her as a joke.

Despite the increasingly urgent to-do list on her phone, which included finding a place to live within the next two weeks as well as packing up her apartment, she’d wasted the entire day hanging out at the station in the hopes that Don would call her into his office to pitch the idea forGood Morning, Sunshine!while at the same time trying to figure out a way to prove she was up to the job.

It wasn’t easy with her interactions with Noah playing in her head. In the end, she’d hoped that by presenting herself as a professional weatherperson, she might make him forget that she’d accidentally accosted him with her claw—three times—and then basically accused him of stalking her. In her mind, she’d erased the part about reeling him in with her imaginary fishing rod, convinced, or at the very least positively hopeful, that he’d missed that part.

She’d scraped her hair into a serious bun for her dinner-hour broadcast, put on a pair of thick black glasses she didn’t need but that made her look bookishly smart—based on her coworkers’ reactions, she’d nailed the hot librarian look instead—wiggled into a black pencil skirt, tucked in a white shirt, and then thrown on the black blazer she wore to funerals.

According to Veronica, Willow’s efforts had been for naught. Noah Elliot had left the building while she was on the air and while Veronica had been fielding calls from unhappy viewers demanding that Lucy deliver the weather forecast instead of Willow.

Before leaving the station five minutes ago, Willow had poked her head into Don’s office in hopes of learning what had transpired in his meeting with Bennett’s acting CEO, but her boss had also been fielding calls from unhappy viewers, andhe’d shooed her away with a disheartened look on his face. She would’ve preferred his usual scowl.

Since Willow couldn’t stick around or she’d be late for her shift at La Dolce Vita, she’d tasked Naomi and Veronica with finding out when Don had scheduled theGood Morning, Sunshine!presentation for.

“Okay, thanks for sharing,” Willow yelled, waving at Lucy’s fans on the patios while forcing what she hoped resembled her usual bright and cheery smile.

Up until a few weeks ago, she’d never had to force a smile. She had ridden around town with a perpetual grin on her face. She’d loved life and felt blessed to live close to family and friends. It was easy to forget about the debt piling up and her not-so-fabulous part-timecareerwhen she was surrounded by so much love and natural beauty.

As she turned off Main Street and took a shortcut through an alley, her phone buzzed. Steering around some broken glass, she removed the phone from her pocket and glanced at the screen. It wasn’t her aunt or her assistant. It was Veronica.

Willow returned her phone to her pocket, stuck in an earbud, and connected the call. Without preamble, she asked, “When’s the presentation scheduled for?” Her question was greeted by muffled sniffing. “I can’t understand what you’re saying, Veronica.”

A second later, Naomi’s voice came over the line. “Because she’s not saying anything. She’s crying into a wad of soggy tissues.”

Willow briefly closed her eyes and groaned. Not the smartest thing to do while riding a scooter, she decided, when she hit a pothole and nearly fell off. She regained her balance and asked, “What happened?”

“A better question would be, What’s not happening? And if you haven’t already guessed by the fact Veronica is crying—again—that would beGood Morning, Sunshine!”

Naomi didn’t handle emotional people well so it had surprised Willow when her friends had started dating the previous year. Commercials, puppies, and sunsets made Veronica cry. She was a sensitive person. But just because she cried easily didn’t make her weak. She was actually one of the strongest, kindest, most empathetic women Willow knew, which was why Naomi put up with her crying jags even though they got on her last nerve.

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” After what had taken place earlier that day, she couldn’t really blame Bennett’s acting CEO but she had been hoping he’d give her another chance. After all, he’d nearly drowned her. “But Naomi, you and Don can do the presentation.”

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