Page 41 of No Strings Attached
She’s tall, poised, the kind of put-together that screams old money and a team of stylists. Her coat is designer, her blowout flawless. Burgundy lipstick. Oversized sunglasses—even thoughwe’re inside. She looks like she stepped off the pages of a fashion spread and into the wrong town by accident.
Definitely not local.
As soon as she reaches the counter, chin held high, I catch her ordering something I’ve never even heard of.A Golden Velvet Cloud?What the hell is that?
The barista gives her a confused look. “I’m sorry, we don’t have that.”
“Of course, you don’t. Small towns.” The woman waves it off with an eye roll before settling with a grimace on a regular drink instead.
I pull my eyes away before she can notice me staring and Jules and I exchange a small grin. We wrap up ten minutes later with everything locked in.
As he zips up his coat, he pauses. “This is going to be one hell of a party.”
I nod, grabbing my tote bag. “Let’s hope so.”
We part ways, and I head down the street to Sea Glass Florals, a shop that looks as if it was plucked from a fairytale, with pale blue doors, twinkle lights in the windows, and the scent of eucalyptus that greets you like a hug the second you step inside.
“Amira!” The florist, Kennedy, beams at me. “You’re early.”
“Holiday miracle,” I joke. “Just wanted to double-check the New Year’s install.”
We walk through the mock setup, and it’s exactly what Nadine wanted: a clean and sophisticated winter wonderland without looking like a mall Santa threw up in it.
“I think she’s going to love it,” I tell her honestly.
“She’d better,” Kennedy teases. “This is my favorite setup I’ve done all season.”
After confirming the delivery schedule and saying goodbye, I make my way to Salt & Cedar, the restaurant where I’m meeting Nadine for lunch. It’s charming, nautical without being kitschy,with weathered wood floors and big windows that overlook the harbor.
Nadine’s already seated in a booth by the window, flipping through what looks like a hand-written guest list.
“Amira, darling,” she says, standing to greet me with a hug. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you.” I smile, sliding into the booth. “So do you. I love that scarf.”
“Oh, this old thing? I’ve had it since the boys still thought socks were optional at Christmas dinner.”
I laugh, picturing a younger version of Henson, and the thought lingers. Absent-mindedly, I stir the lemon in my water.
“How’s the planning going?” Nadine asks, pulling me out of my thoughts. “It’s a lot, I know. But I just want everything to be perfect for my family.”
“It’s great! No one is making it difficult.”
Except for your son, who’s apparently set up camp in my brain and refuses to pay rent.
“Well, if you ever need a break, I’m only a phone call away.”
“Careful. I might take you up on that.”
Nadine grins and leans in. “Good. Because Imightneed an accomplice for the surprise I have planned.”
“Oh? Are you going to tell me what it is this time?”
“Absolutely not.”
I shake my head, smiling as the server arrives with menus.
By the timeI get back to the cottage, my stomach is a wreck. Not because I’m sick, but because I have adatewith Henson tonight.
