Minka placed a hand on her shoulder. “Exactly. Now get your smoking hot ass into my car, and let’s go burn this gala down.”
“But first, my purse,” Cali reminded her. She ran back to grab it, and they were off.
She was thankful for her coat as they walked toward the Old Ridge Inn’s front entrance in the biting evening. But it was heavier than Cali expected, the rich brocade brushing against her arms with every step. She tugged it a little closer as the October chill pressed in then loosened her grasp as the warmth of the grand hotel swept over her at the threshold. A doorman greeted them immediately and sent for a bellhop to escort them back to the ballroom.
The Old Ridge Inn was more glamorous than Cali expected. She’d driven by the historic hotel several times before, but she’d never had cause to stay there, let alone to see inside of the ballroom. The inn seemed to inhale with them as they paused to open the large wooden doors at the ballroom entrance.
“Wow,” Minka murmured. “Mrs. E’s friend did us a solid.”
Crystal chandeliers shimmered above the ballroom, scattering slow-moving stars across marble floors. Velvet drapes framed tall windows, their folds catching the whisper of a night breeze that stirred the candle flames. Cinnamon, champagne, and the faintest note of roasted brie perfumed the air.
Closer to the stage, long tables displayed the town’s generosity under soft beams of light. Wicker baskets brimmed with gift cards, Freya’s floral displays, handblown ornaments with ribbon bows, and pottery still carrying the scent of clay and glaze. Each item bore a small handwritten card, looping cursive announcing its donor and the starting bid. Even the cheapest bid was dressed like an act of love.
Music drifted faintly from the sound check momentarily then paused, and Cali heard glasses clink together in a far corner. The only other sounds were the soft clicks of waiters’ shoes, the flutter of linen being smoothed, and a server counting canapés beyond the doors. Beyond the windows, the town’s single clock tower chimed a quarter past six.
It wasn’t just pure small-town magic. It was about to be a money-maker. Cali tried to hold back a squeal of delight.
“Ladies,” Mrs. Ellery said, materializing beside them. “Come in. Come in.” Minka shut the doors behind them. “What do you think? Did Tabitha and I—and our friends at the Inn, of course—pull it off?”
“My brain just shut down from the sight of it,” Minka admitted. “Amazing work, Mrs. E.”
“Marvelous. Let’s put your coats away, yes? The doors will open to the public in fifteen minutes. This way, Cali.”
Cali followed Mrs. Ellery to the coat room and listened to some brief instructions for checking guests coats and collecting their general admission fee, as well as reminders about the open bar tickets, food, and entertainment. She told Cali to text her if she ran into other questions before the auction started. Mrs. Ellery promised to have her phone on vibrate all night just in case.
“Now you’ll be managing the door with Ethan, so—”
“Ethan?” Cali’s tone made Mrs. Ellery’s expression tighten.
“Yes, Ethan. Now he’s already listened to my lecture about the process. But he’s still mingling out there with some of the donors. If he’s not back over here in five minutes, I’ll need you to go and find him.”
Cali felt a lump growing in her throat. “But I thought Minka and I were at coat check tonight. That’s why I caught a ride with her.”
Mrs. Ellery looked truly perplexed now. “Didn’t Minka tell you she and Ethan traded? I swear the cats communicate better than us humans do sometimes.” She tsked under her breath. “We needed Minka to take photographs, continue the social media craze she started. Ethan was assigned to carrying in auction items, which is obviously done, and breakdown with Leo, but Rosita said the hotel staff will do that. So he’s free to help you.”
One of the waiters called to Mrs. Ellery from just outside the kitchen, a concerned look on his face. “You have my number,” she reminded Cali, then she turned and strutted off.
Then Cali spotted Ethan from across the ballroom, framed by chandelier light that caught in his wavy, dark hair. The clean lines of his gray jacket—of course he’d wear gray—pulled across his shoulders just so. His dark tie was a quiet arrow drawing her eyes to the steady line of his chest. But it wasn’t the suit that stopped her. It was him. The way he carried himself. That irritating, enviable self-confidence and ease he exuded.
Her breath hitched before she could stop it. She told herself it was the warmth of the hotel ballroom, her wool coat, the candlelight. But when his gaze finally swept across the crowd and found hers, the excuses burned away.
It felt like he’d reached for her without moving an inch.
He was mid-conversation with one of the town council members when their eyes met. For a second it appeared like he forgot whatever point he’d been making. His words caught mid-sentence—enough that the councilman gave him a curious look. Ethan mouthed some excuse she couldn’t make out, then stepped away from the councilman.
By the time he reached her side, her pulse was thrumming.
“Cali,” he said. “You look … " His eyes lingered on her hair and traced down the buttons of the coat to her heels then back up to her face. “Stunning. Can I take your coat?”
“I, uh …” She stared at him, fingers reluctant to let go, as if some part of her needed the armor.
“Practice makes perfect,” he said with a disarming smile. “First time taking coats.”
She cleared her throat and slipped the wool piece from her shoulders. The fabric whispered as it fell away, gold-threaded red against black satin.
“Oh, this, too,” she said, handing him her purse.
The way he stared at her then almost made her want to take off the dress, too. She smoothed the neckline of her gown and centered the pendant, willing her pulse to settle. By the time she looked up, Ethan had disappeared into the coatroom and returned with a ticket she suddenly had nowhere to keep.
