Page 66 of Highlands Summer Wedding

I looked out at the rain and took a slow sip of my tea. When I looked back at him, his dark hair was still wet from the rain, his blue eyes soft and searching. He put his spoon in his hot chocolate, thought for a moment, and then began stirring clockwise.

I looked back out at the rain.

“I… Max, we tried this before, and it just didn’t work. It broke me. And I was just about completely mended a few weeks ago when I went to Martha’s Vineyard to plan the second biggest wedding that island has ever seen.”

“Right after the biggest wedding, that was also scheduled for that weekend?”

“Story of my life.”

“What do you want?” he asked again.

I exhaled. “I want a house and kids and a husband who shows up for the soccer games and birthday parties. I want work that’s creative and satisfying without being beholden to some narcissistic financier who wants his girlfriend to star in my serious drama. I want to help people cement their love. I want to organize a fun party.”

“A wedding lasts one night. A film lasts forever.”

“The problem with being a producer is you have to find something you love enough that you’ll willingly sacrifice several years of your life to it—for pre-production, production, post-production, and the whole distribution nightmare. And then do it all over again.”

“So whether it’s film or a relationship, you want something steady,” he said, sipping his hot chocolate.

“Yes, Max. I need stability.”

He nodded once. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I don’t want to prevent you from having the career you want.” He reached across the table and took my hand.

I looked down at his hand in mine. I couldn’t speak. Everything I’d ever felt for Max was right there on the surface. I knew if I stayed another thirty seconds I wasn’t going to be able to pretend I was fine with any of this. I pushed away from the table and stood.

“So the wedding is Saturday, and the family will want to stay in the inn through Monday. After that it’s yours again. We’ll have the gazebo and chairs cleared out before?—”

Max froze. “What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving. Goodbye, Max.”

And I left.

CHAPTER 29

We all gathered at the salon in our yoga pants and flannels. We all decided to get the same pale shade of pink that would blend with the dresses, not stand out too much, and—most importantly—wouldn’t show much if it chipped.

My phone buzzed. It was Max.

I need to talk to you.

I didn’t respond.

I focused my attention back on the bridesmaids who were drinking mimosas and laughing. I sipped my mimosa while I tried not to think about Max or film—or anything except nail polish.

“You okay?” Caitlin asked quietly as she settled into the pedicure chair next to me.

I nodded, not wanting to darken her day with my drama.

My nail tech got the bubbles bubbling in the foot bath and set to work.

As she worked, I caught a headline in Caitlin’sPeople: “CAT TURNER AND MAX MACLEOD—ON THE ROCKS?” She flipped the page hastily, then realized I’d already seen it.

“So, what’s going on with you two?” asked Caitlin, closing her magazine.