One Fine Day: an Oyster Bay novel (Bayside Brides Book 2) Read online

  ONE FINE DAY

  Olivia Miles

  ~Rosewood Press~

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Other Books

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Sarah Preston stared at her phone in disbelief. Cancelled! Her date for tonight had cancelled. At eight thirty in the morning! As if suddenly, halfway through his second cup of coffee, he decided that he’d rather do something else with his evening. Something better.

  And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, he hadn’t even rescheduled. Hadn’t said much of anything really. Sorry, but I can’t make it tonight after all. That was it. Hadn’t even apologized. And boy, did he have an apology to make, not just for cancelling at the final hour, but for the new dress that hung from a hook on her closet door, and the new shoes to match, and the manicure that she had gotten last night after work. The one that was already chipped because in her fury she had reverted back to biting her thumb, the way she used to do back in school, when she was feeling particularly worked up about something like the Sadie Hawkins dance or term exams.

  Between all of these items, half her weekly paycheck was gone. For nothing!

  She stared at the brief message, even though she had it memorized, her mind trying to push back the excuses as quickly as they formed; after all, why should she be making up excuses for a man who hadn’t even bothered to offer up one to her?

  A man she hadn’t even met. That was the worst of it. He hadn’t even given her a chance.

  She flopped back onto her unmade bed, and stared at the overhead fan that was on overdrive. The weather was warming up, and the rain that had made the flower beds soggy and everyone’s spirits damp all week had finally stopped. Sunlight poured in from the windows, showing promise of a beautiful weekend, the kind she usually looked forward to in Oyster Bay. Tourists had been flocking to town since Memorial Day weekend, and Main Street was bustling. She’d planned to wear those navy strappy sandals tonight with a bright pink handbag that would look adorable against that chambray sundress. She’d planned to tuck a pink cardigan of a similar shade into her bag in case the ocean breeze made her chilly come sundown. She’d planned to wear her hair up, off her neck, in case they sat outside and the humidity lasted into the evening instead. She had covered all her bases. Except the part about him cancelling.

  She’d planned a lot of things. Too many. If she was being honest with herself, she shouldn’t have even flirted with the notion that if things went well tonight, she might be able to casually invite her date to her friend Hannah’s wedding in three weeks.

  Now, she would be going to the event alone. As usual.

  Sarah didn’t know which was worse, frankly, that her date had cancelled on her without even giving her a chance, or that she would have to go to Hannah’s wedding alone, when she’d actually dared to think that this time, she wouldn’t be stuck at the singles table with her boss Chloe. Once, there was a time when she held out hope that there might be an eligible bachelor at the singles table, but this was Oyster Bay, everyone knew everyone, and there were very few surprises. Besides, Hannah was marrying a local: Dan Fletcher. There wasn’t even the hope of an out of town guest.

  Sarah finally stood up after five more minutes of self-pity, straightened her skirt, inspected her chipped manicure, and decided that it was time to get to work. It was time for a lot of things, actually, but online dating was not one of them. Nope. Not for her. She’d forced herself to do it, for a thirty-day trial run, and the hope that had swelled within her the day she uploaded her profile was now almost tragic, really. She had even asked Hannah, who was a professional photographer, to take some photos of her down at the beach, and they had turned out lovely, truly, not only because of Hannah’s artistic eye, but because Sarah had actually paid money to have her hair cut, layered, and blown out at the salon beforehand. Plus a “free” makeover where she got roped into buying a lipstick that was quite flattering, at least.

  She’d put her best self out there. Written a peppy, breezy bio that she’d asked Hannah’s sister Evie, a therapist and advice columnist, to review, as well as Abby, who was her closest friend in town and who possessed the kind of easy confidence that Sarah could only someday hope to have. Abby had suggested that she scale her bio way down, and Evie had agreed that the eight-hundred-word count was too much. And Melanie, another friend, even if she was her other boss, had suggested she refrain from mentioning that she worked at a bridal salon, just in case it sent the wrong sort of message. “Toss it in casually. On the first date,” she’d suggested instead.

  But now there would be no first date. Or second date. Or date to Hannah’s wedding. All that she had gotten out of her investment (well, emotional investment, because surely that had to count for something) was a cancelled date with a guy named Rick from Shelter Port—three towns over.

  Was Rick even his name? She narrowed her eyes on this thought as she pounded down the steps of her apartment building. And did he even own that golden retriever featured in all his photos, or had he borrowed it, to appeal to women who fell for that sort of thing? Women, admittedly, like her. After all, she thought, as she rounded the corner onto Main Street, who cancelled a date that they had made, right down to a reservation at the fondue restaurant (how romantic was that?) without any excuse or suggestion of a rain check?

  A man with a secret, that’s who.

  Or maybe, she thought, as she came to a stop outside of Bayside Brides and took a long sigh as she looked at the beautiful display of summer gowns in the window, the strapless tulle ballgown being her current favorite, a man who just wasn’t interested in finding the one, settling down, and living happily ever after.

  Either way she saw it, it was a man who didn’t care that he would never meet her. For all he knew she was his soul mate. The one.

  She snorted. There was no such thing as the one. At least, not for her.

  “It’s official!” she announced as she pulled open the door to Bayside Brides and stepped inside the shop, sending off the wedding bells that hung from the hinge by a blue ribbon. The closest to the real thing she would ever get at this rate. “There’s no such thing as a happily ever after. It’s all a fairy tale! Sure, things start out all sweet and promising and full of hope, and then—”

  From the counter, Melanie Dillon froze in alarm, and it was only then that Sarah noticed the woman being fitted into an ivory lace gown near the mirrors. Chloe Larson, co-owner of the shop along with Melanie, stared at Sarah in icy silence, her expression never losing its professional calm, before saying, “We had an early appointment today, Sarah. Mind grabbing our newest order of veils from the back room once you’re settled in?”

  Well now she had done it. Sarah opened her mouth to apologize but she knew that now wasn’t the time, not with the bride staring at her in a mix of both horror and, dare she say it, pity. From the steely look in Chloe’s eyes, there might never be a time. It could just be that she lost more than her belief in finding love today. She may have just lost her job, too.

  She swallowed hard as she beelined for the storage room, but she managed to catch Melanie’s worried glance before she made it through the door.

  She hadn’t even hung her
handbag on the coat rack before Melanie appeared. “What happened? I thought you had a date tonight!” she hissed.

  “Had being the operative word.” Sarah gave her a long look. As much as she appreciated the sympathy in her friend’s expression, she also hated the way it made her feel as if she might cry. And she couldn’t cry. Not when Chloe was fuming mad at her. And oh, that made her want to cry more than ever. “He cancelled,” she said, tossing up her hands.

  “Well, maybe he got sick,” Melanie said, but Sarah just shook her head as she searched the new boxes that had arrived yesterday for the veils that Chloe wanted.

  “He didn’t even bother to use that excuse. Besides, it’s July. Who gets sick in July?” She pulled her phone from her bag and pulled up his text. She held out the screen to Melanie.

  Melanie frowned. “Maybe something came up?”

  “Maybe he went on another date, last night, and they really hit it off. Or maybe he was never really interested in the date at all and decided to spare me. But the thing is that I was looking forward to it.” Sarah leaned against a file cabinet.“I really thought this one might work out!”

  “What were your interactions like?” Melanie asked. She slid the box containing the veils across the worktable and carefully cut through the seal with a pair of scissors they kept on hand for Melanie’s custom wedding gown orders.

  “You mean, our messages?” Sarah hesitated. “There weren’t many, just a few getting to know you type of exchanges. He likes to play tennis. And he’s a dentist. And he has a dog.” Or so he said. She chewed on her thumbnail and then, remembering her manicure, quickly dropped her hand again. “Do you think Chloe’s mad at me?”

  Melanie winced as she returned the scissors to the drawer. They were all paranoid about leaving sharps out with so many irreplaceable gowns at stake. “Do you want the truth or do you want me to make you feel better?”

  Sarah groaned as she put her face in her hands. “Is it that bad?”

  “Well, there was a client present—”

  “But I didn’t know there would be a client!” Sarah protested. “We never have clients this early.” Usually they didn’t book clients until midmorning, once they all had a chance to settle in, check on their orders, and, of late, tend to the other services that the shop was now offering, including wedding consulting and custom gown design.

  Melanie grimaced. “Just bring out the veils, act like nothing happened, and don’t mention it again.”

  “And maybe Chloe won’t either?” Sarah asked hopefully, but the look on Melanie’s face confirmed her worst fears. Chloe was Melanie’s cousin. She knew her well.

  “I’ll walk out with you and stand by the shoes, if it helps,” Melanie offered.

  “Thank you,” Sarah gushed.

  Of the two owners of Bayside Brides, Chloe was by far the more difficult to please. She was anxious, even uptight, but Sarah also knew that the store wouldn’t be the success that it was without her high expectations. She had an eye for detail, and she was a perfectionist. When Sarah had joined the business in the winter and talk of expanding from a retail store to a full-service wedding business was being passed around, she’d dreamed of becoming a planner one day. Chloe was covering that for now, but she’d promised to let Sarah work with her on a fall wedding. Now Sarah wondered if she would keep to her promise.

  With a shaky sigh, she grabbed the box of veils and squared her shoulders. She followed Melanie into the storefront, grateful that her friend was there for moral comfort, and hoping that she might be able to successfully smooth things over with her cousin. The two often butted heads, but ultimately they had run a successful business together for years and had recently made moves toward expanding their services. Now wouldn’t be the time to fire an employee, surely?

  Chloe didn’t look at her as she approached. The client was wearing another dress now, this one was a frothy chiffon with floral embroidery. It was also one of the dresses that Sarah had taken a photo of when she’d first unboxed it. She took photos of all of her favorite dresses, just so she would be prepared when her day finally came.

  Only it wasn’t coming, was it? Her date had cancelled, and there wasn’t another on the horizon. The other two “matches” she had made on the site had never returned her messages. How was she expected to compete with the hundreds of women whose profiles and photos were just as appealing, if not more so, than her own?

  She was only aware that she was frowning when she caught Chloe’s sharp eye. Instantly, she righted herself, forced a smile, set the veils on top of the jewelry counter and backed away, hoping that her service was completed, that Chloe wouldn’t call her over for anything else.

  “Sarah!”

  Damn. She closed her eyes. Briefly. Then, because she had to, she mustered up all her strength into a smile. “Yes?” she said weakly.

  “Ms. Merrik would like to try on the satin kitten heels in a size eight.”

  Ms. Merrik? But the Merrik wedding was the one that Sarah had been hoping to help plan. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out, and from the knowing look in Chloe’s eye, it didn’t matter.

  There was nothing she could say now. She had said enough already.

  ***

  The only perk to the day was that it was, indeed, Friday, and that even though her date had cancelled on her tonight, Melanie had offered to take her out for drinks instead. Once, it had been their weekly tradition. Girls’ night. That’s what they’d called it. But then Melanie went and fell in love with her oldest friend Jason, and girls’ nights were fewer and farther between.

  Honestly, it was probably the better option. After all, wasn’t it more fun to sit with one of her dearest friends, in the comfort of flip-flops instead of those new strappy sandals which would have inevitably given her blisters, without the pressure of having to make witty conversation or worry that she had spinach between her teeth?

  Really. Who needed a date when you had girlfriends?

  That pick-me-up only worked for about the first ten minutes. By the time Melanie started talking about her plans with Jason for the weekend, something that had to do with a casual dinner at the Clam Shack and a long, lazy evening on the beach, Sarah’s spirits deflated, like someone had untied the balloon that was keeping her afloat.

  She scanned the patio of Coast, a new establishment in town that was part of the Main Street renovation. It was crowded, and it was their first time actually snagging a table since it opened two weeks ago. This was something to be happy about, surely, except that right now all Sarah could see was a mass of couples, even though half were probably middle-aged. Summer was here, and the men wore khaki shorts and suede sandals, seersucker shirts rolled to the elbow or golf shirts. The women wore navy, white, and pink of all shades. Sundresses, tank tops, striped blouses. Each table contained a colorful mixed bouquet, no doubt provided by Posy down at Morning Glory, the flower shop that they recommended to all their brides. There was a smell of salt in the breeze, and the sun was low in the peach-colored sky, and really, there should be a lot to look forward to right about now. Usually summertime meant an influx of fresh faces. Last year this had perked her up. Now, little could lift her spirits.

  She sank her straw deeper into her sangria and tried to stab a piece of diced fruit. Really, she had bigger problems at the moment than the sad state of her love life. “On a scale of one to ten, how much trouble do you think I’m in?”

  Melanie looked like she was being strangled. She took another sip of her wine, nearly draining the glass.

  “Ballpark estimate,” Sarah said. She could take it. Now was the time to dish on all the pain at once. Tomorrow could only get better from here. “If you had to guess.”

  Melanie chewed her lip. “If I had to guess?” She blinked a few times. “Maybe…a nine?”

  “Nine!” Sarah realized she had shouted this louder than she’d planned when she saw the people at a few other tables glance her way. She leaned across the table, lowering her voice to an urgent whisper. “Ni
ne?”

  “Well, what were you expecting me to say?” Melanie said, her eyes wide with apology.

  “I don’t know. A six? Seven, tops.” Sarah leaned back in her chair, clutching her glass of sangria. Melanie was smart enough to flag down the waitress and signal for another round. “Nine? Really?”

  Melanie reached for her glass and then realized it was empty. “Maybe she’ll forget about it by tomorrow.”

  They exchanged a look. Sarah speared a slice of apple. Hard. Both knew that this was wishful thinking. Bayside Brides catered to brides, fed into the fairytale of the picture perfect, magical wedding day. And Sarah had just announced that she didn’t believe in any of that. Some brides were twitchy, already nervous and doubting their choices (and not just which shoes they had selected). Sarah had punctured the fantasy.

  “Are you really giving up on love just because one guy cancelled?” Melanie asked. “For all you know, he could be a serial killer. Maybe he spared you.”

  “A serial killer?” Sarah snorted. In a sad way it would almost be better to have been spared than rejected.

  “I never liked the idea of you meeting up with a stranger,” Melanie said, and now it was Sarah’s turn to look at her as if she were crazy.

  “But you were the one who talked me into trying online dating again!” she cried. She’d done it before, years ago. One guy had spent the entire date talking about his ex-girlfriend. The other had just been released from jail for a white-collar crime. She should have known better.

  “Was I?” Melanie’s brow knitted. She smiled up at the waitress who cleared their empty glasses and set the fresh drinks on the table. “All I know is that you, me, and Jason made a pact this spring. This year would be different. Better. This is our time to reach for what we want.”

  “And you and Jason figured all that out rather quickly,” Sarah said, reaching in for her glass. It was easy for Melanie to say. She and Jason had been best friends forever. They only had to finally open their eyes to realize that they were destined to be more than that. So now they were a couple, no doubt they’d be getting married eventually too, and Sarah… “I don’t have any guys in my life to start dating. Anyone I meet will be a stranger.”