She swallowed while she went over the message again, wondering if she’d read it wrong. Her throat constricted. That thumping that seemed to rock the room was her heart beating a crazy-mad rhythm. Maybe she was going into shock.
Brant Johnsson.
The same guy who publicly shamed her in the middle of the Rennselaer Hotel ballroom last year was asking her to come with him to another formal event.
His nerve was astounding. She couldn’t quite imagine why he thought she’d say “yes.”
Layla lost track of the time as she sat there on the bed, gaping at the message.
Then a funny thing happened.
Surprise gave way to…to—what?
As she sat in the silence of her room, little snippets of an imaginary scene played in her mind’s eye like a movie trailer.
The dark green velvet dress hugged her curves, its hem grazing her ankles. Her gaze swept Blueberry Point Lodge’s dining room. It had been decked out in its holiday finery by her very own skilled hands. She closed her eyes and swayed to the melody from a string quartet playing Mozart’s “Sleigh Ride” in the background. When she opened them, Brant’s dark eyes mesmerized her. They danced in the middle of the room, spinning, smiling, flirting. Cameras flashed around the perimeter, taking photos. She couldn’t care less about her surroundings though. Brant looked devastatingly handsome in a black tux with matching velvet lapels. He pulled her close, his lips brushing her exposed ear. He whispered, his voice low and intoxicating—
What was she doing?
She’d heard that extreme shock could bring on a momentarily lapse from reality, an eyes-wide-open coma. This romantic fantasy with Brant Johnsson skipping through her mind definitely fit the bill.
She stared at the message on her phone again, trying to spot a sign that it was a joke somewhere in the arrangement of his words.
Surely the fantasy was just her brain trying to find a less offensive scenario than the one she’d endured at the Rennselaer with him.
Go with him to the Holly Days Festival dinner, huh?
Was he serious?
Chapter Six
“Iwish you’d stay for breakfast at least,” Darcy said. “The casseroles aren’t ready yet, but I’ll have them out in another twenty minutes.”
Darcy followed Layla, carrying one of the tubs down the steps to the car. Layla popped the trunk, threw in one of the tubs, did the same with the one Darcy gave her, and shut it again.
“I’d love to, but I really can’t. I have a full schedule today once I get back to Copper Creek.”
Darcy rested a hand on her arm. “Then let me get you a coffee and a muffin to go. Don’t go anywhere.”
“That would be perfect.”
The house was still quiet when she’d come downstairs. The guests had yet to leave their rooms. Brant hadn’t made his appearance either. That was the idea. There was no way she could face him this morning. It defied reason why he’d invite her to the Holly Days Festival dinner. What was he thinking? Hadn’t her indifference toward him at least been clear enough? But now that she thought about it, it wasn’t a surprise that he chose to ignore the vibes and do his own thing anyway.
Darcy rushed down the steps again to press a lidded cup of coffee and a warm muffin wrapped in a pink napkin into Layla’s hands.
“I’m so happy you were able to come. The inn looks amazing,” Darcy said again. She hadn’t been short on praise the last two days.
“It was a pleasure.”
“I’ll have to thank Brant again for recommending you.”
She couldn’t think of what to say to that, so she just smiled.
“I hope you’ll be able to come to the dinner. I’ll be following up if I don’t hear from you. I’m obnoxious like that.” Darcy shrugged.
Layla looped the strap of her bag over her shoulder and waved before she opened her door. “I won’t forget.”
Back in the safety zone of her car, she breathed a sigh of relief. She took one last glance at the inn before she pulled away and onto Highway 61. How could she forget with that unwanted invite hanging over her head?
