A Cottage Wedding Read online

  “How could they not?”

  “Exactly.” Kate Steven had been the face of the Donna Marsha brand for five years. Her choice to walk down the aisle in another designer’s wedding gown was an unforgiveable slight. “I smell a story.”

  Tara pressed her thumb into the soft flesh under her chin while she tapped her forefinger against her upper lip. The shiver of excitement she’d felt moments earlier turned into a rumble. This could be “the one.” The story that proved she’d been right to leave Savannah and follow her dreams to New York. The story that warranted a byline and a teaser on the cover of Weddings Today. If she played her cards right, it might actually help her erase the dreaded junior from her title and propel her into an office of her own. One that had a door and four walls that reached all the way to the ceiling. Unlike her current space in the bullpen, where cubicles topped out at mid-chest and privacy was a pipe dream.

  Not that she’d be around much to enjoy her new digs. No. Once she became a full-fledged senior reporter, she’d be too busy covering far-flung celebrity weddings or protecting the magazine’s readership from unethical vendors—the kind who promised the moon and delivered nothing—to actually sit behind her desk and stare out the window at the dull, gray cement exterior of the building next door.

  Wasn’t it about time something big came her way? Her parents had expected her to follow in her sisters’ footsteps and join the family business. When she’d chosen a different path, they hadn’t been able to hide their disappointment. She’d been trying to prove herself in their eyes ever since. But it had taken longer than she’d expected. Oh, she’d known she’d have to pay her dues. The day she’d broken up with her high-school sweetheart and moved to New York, she’d sat down at the tiny kitchen table in her fifth-floor walk-up and had a frank, heart-to-heart chat with herself. This was her time, she’d decided. If she was going to succeed and make her parents proud, she had to buckle down and get serious. And that meant setting her personal life on the shelf. One day, she’d find her Mr. Right. For the foreseeable future, though, she’d concentrate on making a name for herself. She’d focus on writing about weddings and not dreaming about her own.

  And that’s exactly what she’d done.

  In the two years since she’d landed a job at Weddings Today, she’d written dozens of articles on such not-so-fascinating topics as the differences between Point D’Esprit and Chantilly lace. She’d dutifully touted the advantages of serving sparkling wine over champagne in companion pieces for a senior reporter’s article on receptions. She’d done all the legwork and consolidated the research for her higher-paid and more respected bosses on Reporter’s Row.

  She hadn’t expected it to be easy to get ahead in such a competitive market—and it hadn’t been—but surely her time had come. The more she thought about it, the more certain she grew that a juicy tidbit from Kate’s wedding was just the ticket she needed to propel her career in the right direction. She jiggled her computer mouse, but the laptop had put itself to sleep, something it did whenever she ignored it for too long. With a good-natured grumble, she logged back in. She sent the image of the model wearing the inappropriate dress to the printer and scooped up the photo of the Sophie Olsen.

  “What are you going to do?” The wheels of Vanessa’s office chair rumbled as she returned to her half of the tiny cubicle.

  “The first step is to convince Ms. Charm to let me look into it.” The Executive Editor for Weddings Today, Regina Charm had to approve any story her junior staff deemed worthy of investigation. “Once I get the go-ahead, I’ll do the research. Talk to Kate. And Donna Marsha. Or, at least, their assistants.” She had to admit that the odds of a junior reporter getting face-to-face time with two of the biggest names in wedding fashion were nil, even for an important story like this one. And wasn’t that always the way? In a bizarre version of Catch-22, she had to have a big scoop to boost her up onto the next rung of the corporate ladder, but to get it, she needed access to people who wouldn’t give the time of day to lowly junior reporters. “Somehow, I’ll get to the bottom of this and learn why a spokesmodel for one brand would wear a competitor’s dress.”

  “When you put it like that, I don’t see how Ms. Charm could turn you down. You think she’d let you write the entire article?” Vanessa drummed her fingers on her chair’s armrests. “Do you know how jelly I’ll be if she does?”

  She did. For one glorious split-second, Tara envisioned a teaser on the cover of the next edition, a two-page article inside with her name prominently featured. The story she’d write would be so well-researched and well-written, Ms. Charm would practically beg her for regular contributions. From there, the sky was the limit. Featured articles. A monthly column. Promotions and accolades.

  But first, she had to plant her foot on the next rung. She slipped the photos into one of the magazine’s blue binders and tucked it under one arm. “Wish me luck.”

  “You don’t even have to ask. You’ve got this.”

  “When I do, drinks are on me at The Scribe.” Two doors down from the magazine’s headquarters, the watering hole served as the staff’s most popular gathering spot. Tonight, she’d walk into the bar where framed covers of Weddings Today hung over the booths, and everyone would congratulate her on her first big assignment. Thinking of the welcome she’d receive, Tara sighed.

  Her visions of grandeur dimmed a bit when Vanessa’s full lips parted. “You know I’d love to, but I can’t. Charlie and I are going to Bed, Bath and Beyond to create our registry as soon as I get off work.”

  Pretending she didn’t care, Tara nodded. “Some other time, then.”

  She turned toward the opening between their desks. A little over two years ago, she’d have traded her eyeteeth for the kind of relationship Vanessa shared with her fiancé. But that was before. Before she’d discovered texts from other girls on her former boyfriend’s phone. Before she’d given up on dreams of white picket fences and had set her sights on something more attainable. Climb the ladder of success, that was her new goal. Landing this story was the next step.

  She shrugged out of her cardigan and snugged the tail of her blue shirt into the waistband of gray slacks. Her shoulders back, head held high, she marched past the rows of cubicles that held dozens of other junior reporters and interns. The glass-fronted door at the end of the corridor loomed like the entrance to the lion’s den. Which, considering her boss’s mood of late, wasn’t a bad comparison.

  Momentary doubt flickered. Tara doused it and kept her feet in motion. At the door, she curled her fingers over sweat-dampened palms and knocked on the jamb.

  “Ms. Charm? Do you have a minute?”

  The ultra-thin woman in a standard-issue, shabby-chic black suit looked up from photographs paper-clipped to articles written by senior staffers. She removed a pair of reading glasses—today’s frames were bright red—and pinched her nose. “Come in, Tara. Do you have those blurbs finished for the composite page?” The nasal tones of a Long Island native whipped through the air. “I need them by Friday.”

  “I just have to add Kate Steven’s, and I’ll be done with them. But I spotted something very interesting in the photos from her wedding.”

  “Yes.” Regina Charm’s inflection didn’t rise a bit.

  Tara stepped forward, her pulse racing. This was her big chance. It could be months—years, even—before another opportunity like this one came along. She had to grab the editor’s attention.

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “As you know, Kate is the spokesmodel for the Donna Marsha line.” The designer was the second-most popular in the industry. “But for her own wedding, Kate chose”—she paused for effect—“a Sophie Olsen!” Stepping forward, she slid the printed image onto her boss’s desk. “I want to probe deeper into that, find out why Kate would make such a statement.”

  “Something about this has your reporter’s nose twitching?” Her thin lips curving into a barely am
used smile, Regina twirled her glasses by one stem.

  “It does.” She nodded.

  “Not bad.”

  Her heart leaped. These days, “not bad” was considered high praise on the floor where her boss rarely had a kind word to say about anything. She crossed her fingers. This was it, the moment of truth. Had she won the editor over?

  “But it’s not for us.” Regina folded her reading glasses and set them aside. “Our subscribers aren’t interested in a quarrel between the creatives and their faces. Our readers are women who are planning their weddings or hope to be soon. They want to know what’s hot in next season’s gowns. Is strapless on its way out? Are empire waistlines making a comeback? Which fabrics are popular right now? They expect us to answer those questions for them and leave spats like this one to the gossip rags.”

  “But I thought…” Tara’s heart sank straight down to her toes while heat climbed the back of her neck.

  “I know what you thought. But no.” Regina aimed a nail the same color as her glasses at the picture. “That is not for us. You’ve been with us for two years. I’d think you’d know that by now.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Sorry to have bothered you.” Not only was Kate’s story not her big break, Regina’s subtle jab told her she’d better bring her focus more in line with Weddings Today or start looking for another job. Prepared to make as gracious a retreat as possible under the circumstances, she backed away from the desk.

  “On the other hand…”

  At the sound of her boss’s voice, Tara’s retreat halted. What now?

  “I do admire your attention to detail. Even some of the more senior reporters might have missed the dress.” Tension in the room mounted while Regina treated Tara to an intense study. At last, her boss tapped the folded pair of glasses against her desktop and nodded. “Close the door and take a seat.”

  Her emotions bouncing like a yo-yo at the end of a string, Tara gulped. Though she couldn’t recall the last time something good had come out of a private chat with the Executive Editor, Regina had just handed her a compliment. Of sorts.

  “What can I do for you, Ms. Charm?” she asked, deliberately adopting a bland tone.

  “I’m sure you’re aware that we’re in the middle of our bi-annual review of the most popular wedding sites throughout the U.S. The town that receives the highest marks will be on the cover of our August edition, with a four-page spread inside.”

  Tara blinked and scurried to keep up with a conversation that veered in a direction she hadn’t expected. In an industry worth 72 billion dollars a year, roughly twenty-five percent of brides and grooms chose a destination wedding. Earning the title of the most sought-after location meant a serious boon to the winner’s economy. The entire office had been buzzing with speculation, but she had nothing to do with the contest, so why had Regina brought it up?

  “For the past ten years, that honor has fallen to Heart’s Landing. You’ve heard of it, haven’t you?”

  “Oh, yes.” Practically every young woman in America had dreamed of getting married in the quaint little seaside town a stone’s throw south of glitzy Newport. There’d been a time when she’d pictured herself standing on the veranda of the Captain’s Cottage reciting her vows. But she’d put aside those thoughts in order to concentrate on her career. She traced the crease in her slacks.

  “Personally, I think the people there have grown so complacent, they’ve let things slide.” Regina’s gaze drifted to a large plate-glass window that overlooked busy lower Manhattan. “That was certainly the experience I encountered last year. My fiancé and I would never have called off our engagement if it hadn’t been for the way the staff at the Captain’s Cottage mishandled our arrangements.”

  Tara swallowed a nervous gulp. It was no secret that Regina’s wedding to Wall Street investor Robert Hutchins had fallen apart mere weeks before the event. The editor had been in a foul mood ever since. Not that Tara or any of her coworkers dared discuss the matter within Regina’s earshot. Now that her boss had raised the subject, though, how was she supposed to respond?

  Recalling how devastated she’d been when she discovered her long-time boyfriend’s roving eye, Tara shoved all the warmth and sincerity she could muster into one sentence. “I was so sorry to hear about the breakup, Ms. Charm.”

  “Don’t be. I’m over it.” Dismissive, the editor waved one hand. Her attention shifting, she focused on Tara. “Don’t let anyone tell you different—true love is just a fairy tale. It doesn’t exist any more than Snow White, Cinderella, and Prince Charming do. Now that I’ve discovered the truth, I’m better off, believe me.”

  Tara clamped her mouth shut over a protest that was sure to rile her boss’s feathers. The few times she’d spotted Regina and Robert at company functions and charitable events, she would’ve sworn the couple had been truly happy together. In the year since the pair had called off their wedding, the editor had grown more cynical every day. If that was better off, Tara wasn’t sure it was much of an improvement.

  “Enough about my life.” As if she realized she’d been swapping confidences with a lowly junior staff member, Regina straightened. “Let’s get back to the subject at hand—Heart’s Landing. This year, the magazine wants a special, in-depth look at the entire town. They’ve allocated ten days for visiting every business and venue, sampling the fare from the various caterers and restaurants. Normally, as Executive Editor, I’d handle the evaluation personally.” Regina cleared her throat. “However, I don’t believe Heart’s Landing deserves the title any longer. I think it’s time to pass the torch to another contender.”

  Tara nodded. According to whispered gossip around the water cooler, Regina had planned a wedding that would outshine the royal wedding of a lesser noble. Her fury had been a force to reckon with when things hadn’t turned out exactly as she’d envisioned. Now, it seemed, she placed the blame solely on Heart’s Landing.

  “I’m sure you understand how that puts me in an awkward position. It wouldn’t look right for me to give the town a scathing review. People might accuse me of letting my own experiences color my perception. Nothing could be farther from the truth.”

  In what could only be construed as a demand for support, Regina arched one carefully drawn eyebrow and cast an expectant look across the desk.

  Recognizing her cue, Tara nodded. “You’re far too professional to let your own feelings influence your work.”

  “Thank you for saying that. Still, Weddings Today needs to maintain its impartial standing. That’s where you come in. I want you to go to Heart’s Landing in my place. You’ll handle the entire evaluation. Can you do it?”

  Tara gulped. Her? In charge of judging the incumbent in this year’s contest? This was more than taking a step up the corporate ladder. It was grasping the shiny bronze star on the top of the tree. “Yes, of course,” she blurted, despite the clanging of an internal alarm.

  Careful. Opportunities like this one come with strings attached.

  “This might sound like we’re putting a lot on your shoulders, but your job will actually be a simple one. You’ll fill out the checklists, visit all the must-see locations, snap pictures for the magazine, attend weddings and, in general, give everyone the impression that you’re performing a detailed evaluation. In reality, you’ll only be taking a cursory look at the town. Needless to say, I don’t expect, or want, a glowing report. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Perfectly.” Tara pressed her fingers together. Okay, so this might not be the plum assignment it had sounded like at first, but it was still a great opportunity.

  “The real part of your job is a little trickier. Heart’s Landing has held the title for so long, it’s going to take something substantial to knock the town off its pedestal. That’s where your unique skills as an investigative reporter come in.”

  Tara leaned forward, her nose for a story on alert.

  “Your rea
l purpose while you’re there will be to debunk the lies that form the very foundation of Heart’s Landing’s claim to fame. For nearly as long as the town has existed, rumors and whispers have circulated about the town’s founder. Not everyone is convinced he was the paragon of love and faithfulness people have made him out to be. I want you to dig into the history of Captain Thaddeus Heart and find out the truth about him.”

  Tara sucked in a breath. Now this was the meaty kind of assignment she’d been hoping for.

  “You’ve heard the stories, I’m sure. How the good captain supposedly loved his wife so much that he sailed home for her birthday every year. That he battled a hurricane in order to make port on time. Like we’re supposed to believe that.” Regina gave an indelicate snort. “Then, there’s the heart-shaped stones mounted all over town. Locals claim Captain Thaddeus personally chiseled them as birthday presents for his wife.” She examined one blood-red fingernail. “Rocks—how perfectly droll. That, in itself, speaks volumes about the true nature of his relationship with his wife.”

  Looking up, she continued, “I’ve requested access to the captain’s logs and records. Everything you need to expose his story as nothing more than a fairy tale will be available to you. Think you can do it?”

  “Of course, Ms. Charm. I’ll do my best.”

  “You must know how important this is, Tara. Debunk this myth, and you’re on your way up in the world. Fail, and well…”

  “I won’t.” She didn’t need anyone to spell it out for her. Succeed, and she’d get that promotion she’d been angling for. She’d remain on staff at Weddings Today, have her own office, write the kind of stories she’d dreamed of writing. Fail, and at best, she’d be stuck in the bullpen for the rest of a very short career.

  From a drawer in her desk, Regina retrieved a business card and scribbled on the back. “Here,” she said, sliding the paper across the desk. “That’s my private number. This conversation stays strictly between you and me. You’re not to tell anyone—especially anyone in Heart’s Landing—about the true nature of your assignment.”