Always the Baker, Finally the Bride (11 page)

“Hello.”

The fortyish brunette wearing a bright orange jacket and seated behind Susannah’s desk didn’t strike him as even remotely familiar.

“You must be Mr. Drake?”

He squinted at her for a moment before replying. “Yes.”

She hopped up and sidestepped the desk with her hand extended. “I’m Bree Olding. Like the cheese?”

The cheese?

“You know. Brie. The cheese.”

“Oh. Right,” he said, shaking her hand vacantly. “And Bree, you’re . . . here . . . because . . .”

“I’m helping Miss Littlefield.”

Still. Why are you here?

“Oh, Jackson,” Susannah said as she emerged from his office. “You’ve met Bree.”

“I have. And I was just asking—”

“I’ll explain all that to you. Why don’t we step into your office then?” Susannah started back inside as she added, “Hold down the fort, will you, Bree?”

“Right you are!” the woman declared.

Jackson pushed the door shut behind him and slipped into the leather chair. Propping his elbows on the desktop, he stared Susannah down for a moment before prompting, “Well?”

“My sister, Mona?”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “The one in Jacksonville.”

“Yes. Well, she has taken a fall,” she told him, standing on the other side of the desk. He motioned for her to take a seat, but she shook her head and continued, “Her hip is broken in two places, and they performed surgery yesterday.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“She’s going straight to the rehab center for a bit, and then she’s going to need some help at home. So I’m going to fly out over the weekend. I shouldn’t be gone more than a couple of weeks.”

“Weeks.”

“I called Cheryl Delbert at the employment agency, and she sent Bree over. I’ll spend a couple of days with her to make sure she knows the lay of the land, and I’m sure she’ll be a fine replacement for me until I come back.”

“You’re irreplaceable, Susannah. You know that.”

Her sudden grin cast a shy shadow. “If she works out, perhaps we can discuss full-time employment as my retirement date approaches.”

Jackson groaned. “Don’t remind me. Let’s just get your desk covered while you take care of your sister. We’ll think about all the rest at a later date.”

“All right, Mr. Scarlett O’Hara,” she teased. “You think about all that tomorrow.”

“She comes with good references?”

“Cheryl seems very confident in her abilities.”

He sighed and thumped the desk with one fist. “All right. I guess I’ll leave training to you.”

“Thank you, Jackson. I’m sorry to do this with so little notice. But it really couldn’t—”

“It can’t be helped,” he finished for her. “Don’t worry. We’ll manage.”

Jackson drummed his fingers on the desk as Susannah turned to leave the office. “Uh, wait just one second, will you?”

She turned and looked at him expectantly.

“I’ve decided to go ahead with the sale of the hotel, Susannah. Do you have any feelings about that one way or the other?”

“Well, of course, I’m retiring,” she said, and he waved at her and grimaced. “Sorry to mention it again, but I am, Jackson. So it won’t really affect me in any significant way. I imagine the rest of the staff will be distressed.”

“You have no idea.”

“But I think this is ultimately your decision.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I know you well enough to know that you’re weighing your options and the toll on others, and you’ll make the best choice for everyone. Especially for you and Emma Rae as you start your new life together.”

“Well. That was my plan.”

“I wish you a very happy life, Jackson. You know that.”

He sighed. “I do know that.”

“Closed or open?” she asked as she reached the door.

“Closed, please.”

After Susannah had gone, Jackson strolled over to the window and surveyed the Roswell streets splayed out before him. Traffic moved along at a nice clip, and the offices over near the old Roswell Mill bustled with activity.

Jackson loved the community that The Tanglewood called home. From the historic homes to the nature trails to the lovely old town square, Roswell evoked Old South charm. It ranked as the third largest city in Fulton County, the eighth largest in the state of Georgia, while still presenting itself as having the allure of a small southern town. If Emma ever spoke to him again and actually followed through with their marriage, perhaps they could think about settling here once both of them sold their current places.

Chastising himself for walking out on her the way he did, Jackson returned to his desk and picked up his cell phone.

I’m an idiot
, he typed into the text box.

And?
came the reply.

Still want to marry me?

Thinking. Will let you know. Would be hard to give up the ring
.

Jackson laughed out loud.

Keep it. It’s the least I can do
.

True. What about the Falcons tix?

Not giving those up
.

Then I suppose I’ll have to marry you. I’m not giving them up either
.

He leaned back in the chair and released a heavy sigh.

I love you
, he texted her.

Adore you more. Fondant 911. See u later
.

The intercom on his desk phone buzzed.

“Mr. Drake, your conference call is on line one,” the cheese woman announced.

But when he picked up the phone, the line hummed.

“Sor-ry. I’ll get them back again,” she exclaimed from the other side of the closed door. An unexpected expletive followed, and Jackson snickered as Susannah hushed her.

“No, no! That kind of language isn’t appropriate at The Tanglewood.”

Another breach followed an instant later.

“Bree! Really!”

“Sor-ry. But this phone system is—”

The muffled completion to the sentence led Jackson to envision Susannah covering the cheese woman’s mouth with her hand. He almost gave in to the temptation to go and have a look, but Susannah creaked open his office door and poked her head inside.

“Give it another try. We’ve got them back on line two.”

Jackson nodded and picked up the phone. “Dale, it’s Jackson Drake. How are you?”

“Better than you. What’s going on down there in your offices, Drake?”

“Ah, you haven’t got the time.”

Dale Eeks cackled with laughter. “Well, if you’re ready, we’ve got everyone on the line. Let’s talk about your Roswell team.”

“Seriously. How does she do it? I’m starting to think Sherilyn Drummond is a robot!”

Emma chuckled. “I hear that a lot. She just really loves what she does, and she’s well suited to it. Just hang in there, Kat. It’s a process, and she’s only out for a few weeks.”

Kat shook her head as she climbed atop the stool at the far side of the stainless steel worktable where Emma and Fee dipped round, coffee-flavored cookies into chocolate.

“I don’t think I knew what I was in for when I agreed to handle things for her while she’s on maternity leave. I guess I thought it was just a matter of making sure things stayed organized. But, man!” Her words trailed off as she caught a glimpse of the cookie in Fee’s hand. “Man, those look good. What are they?”

“Mocha latte cookies,” Fee replied. “One of Emma’s creations.”

Kat watched, riveted, as Fee dipped the small round into the pan of warm chocolate to cover half of the cookie, then placed it next to the other cookies on the wax paper.

“Do you want one?” Fee asked dryly.

“Can I?” Kat cried, and she plucked a cookie from the table before either of them could reply.

At the first bite, she moaned, and Emma laughed at the reaction. “Those cookies get that response a lot.”

“They’re wicked!” Kat exclaimed. “So good!”

Emma smiled at her as she continued her work. Taking great care with the spatula, she loosened the next batch of cooled cookies from the sheet, lining them up for dipping.

“Oh! Where are you with the invitations?” Kat asked as she pilfered another cookie.

“Thirty-four of them, addressed and stamped, all ready to go.”

“Thirty-four,” Fee commented. “I thought you were only having a group of less than twenty.”

“So did we.”

Fee nodded knowingly, and Kat chuckled.

“Our guest list is what happened when we were busy making other plans.”

“Jackson’s sister?”

“Yeah. The only thing more frightening than Georgiann Markinson is putting her in a room with Avery Travis. But we’ve put our collective foot down, and thirty-four invitations is the line in the sand.”

Kat looked up from her iPhone and asked, “Sherilyn wants to know if you mailed them.”

“Text her back and tell her I said they’re lost. We need to reorder.”

Kat’s eyes danced with the fire of surprise. “I’m not telling her that.”

“Atta girl,” Fee teased. “Save yourself.”

“Hey, do either of you want to come to Carly’s for dinner tonight? She told me to ask you and I completely zoned.”

“Can’t,” Fee replied as she set the last of the chocolate-dipped cookies on the wax paper. “We’ve got two more houses to tour, and then Sean’s brother is coming over.”

“Jackson and I have some making up to do,” Emma said with a grin. “We need to do that in private. Will Audrey be there?”

“No. She flew out to Las Vegas to meet up with J.R. for a couple of days.”

Emma smiled. “How is J.R.?”

“He’s on top of his game. Audrey says he’s been consulting on a Matthew McConaughey movie out there, lining them up with vintage motorcycles.”

“Oooh! Good for him! And how is your movie star paramour?”

“Russell’s fine,” Kat replied, blushing. “He’s in Brazil for another month.”

“A month.” Emma shook her head. “I can’t imagine being separated from Jackson like you two are.”

“Well, Jackson isn’t quite as exhausting as Russell,” she quipped.

“True enough.”

The three of them shared a laugh, and Kat added, “Truthfully, this has been a long stretch, so a little harder than normal. But sometimes a few weeks apart is just enough time for me to recharge.”

“He is a handful, as I recall,” Emma said with a grin.

“Indeed.”

“It would have been nice if he could make it for the wedding, though.”

“It’s not completely out of the question, but it doesn’t look good. He does send his love.”

“Back at him. He’s a terror . . . but a lovable one.”

Kat nodded. “And speaking of lovable, I’ve got a consultation with next weekend’s bride.”

“Send my love to Carly and Devon.” Emma called as Kat left.

“Will do.”

The kitchen door still swung after her as Fee dried her hands and asked, “So what next? Scones or lemon squares?”

“Squares,” Emma declared, and Fee nodded.

“I’ll prep the counter.”

Emma Rae’s Lemon Squares

Preheat oven to 300 degrees
.

2 cups all-purpose flour
½ cup powdered sugar
2 sticks butter
2 cups granulated sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
4 eggs, beaten
1 tablespoon grated lemon rind
¼ cup juice from a lemon

Sift the flour and powdered sugar together.
Cut in the butter until blended.
Press the mixture over the bottom of a 9×13×2-inch pan.

Bake for 20-25 minutes until lightly browned.
Combine granulated sugar, baking powder, salt, eggs,
lemon rind, and juice.
Spread over the baked crust.

Turn the oven up to 350 degrees.

Bake for 30 minutes.
After removing from oven, sprinkle with additional
powdered sugar.
When fully cool, cut into squares.