Sweet Home Alaska (2 page)

If the town’s darling, Trey Briggs, accepted her, then everyone in town would accept her, too.

Her cell phone chirped. “Hello?” she answered.

“Miss Kinkade, this is Kayla, Mr. Briggs’s assistant.”

“Hello, Kayla. I’ll be there in just a few moments.”

“That’s what I was calling about. I apologize, but the interview has been canceled.”

What? This made no sense. “Then I assume we’ll reschedule for another time?”

“No, Miss Kinkade. There will be no interview.”

“I see.” Lauren’s heart pounded in her ears. So this is what small-town life meant? Maybe she’d made a mistake in coming back. Maybe she wasn’t meant to be here. “Thank you, Kayla.”

Lauren clicked off her phone and gripped the steering wheel. “What the heck?”

Was this the kind of reception she should expect from other businesses in town? A cold shoulder and a ‘no thanks, we aren’t giving you the time of day’ after all. Little did they know how determined she really was. She was more than a pretty brunette in heels.

She clenched her teeth and tried to think about her options. She watched as people entered and exited the two-story log building that housed a dentist’s office, a sporting goods store, and Briggs Enterprises.

She stared at ravens flapping overhead, squawking to each other from adjacent spruce trees. Ravens were one of the most intelligent and hardiest of birds. They found food to sustain themselves during the winter, and they were opportunistic, not to mention popular in mythology and folklore.

She needed to be like a raven and toughen up.

A familiar face exited the building. But this man was so tall, much taller than Trey. She had been taller than Trey when they were eighteen. Now all his pimples were gone, and from the looks of it, he’d put on weight in all the right places. She eyed the muscular curve of his calves and the way his broad shoulders filled out his T-shirt.

Whoa
.

She peered through the windshield at him and leaned forward, trying to make sure he was the same Trey Briggs of her graduating class. He looked so different, and yet she noted his determined pace. He kept his head down and moved across the parking lot as though he knew exactly where he was going and no one was going to stop him.

She reached for her van’s door handle. She wanted to give him a piece of her mind, but she stopped to look at him more closely. The man was gorgeous. Acute interest unfolded in her belly.

She’d asked him for help with her algebra once and he’d looked at her like she’d grown horns on her head. He had always kept to himself, very quiet and introverted.

She’d gotten him to cave when she’d asked him to help her with algebra; he could damn well give her the interview he’d agreed to. She was going to be like a raven, be opportunistic. Besides, he knew as well as anyone that her grandmother’s food was the best in town.

She remembered the blue 1970 Ford pickup truck Trey had driven to school. It had started out as a hunk of junk, rusty and blowing smoke wherever it went, but he had restored it. The guy was knowledgeable and he fixed things. So it hadn’t surprised her when she read about Briggs Enterprises purchasing the old run-down, three-story hotel on the Kenai Spur Highway and refurbishing it.

It made sense; it was what Trey did. It fit his golden boy image. He’d also started a fundraising campaign their senior year of high school to raise money to refurbish all the elementary schools’ playgrounds.

The guy was a freaking boy scout, a model of good behavior.

And yet he wouldn’t interview her. She’d never been anything except polite to him. She couldn’t say they were friends, but when they passed in the hallways, she’d always said hello.

Did he harbor some kind of resentment toward her that she didn’t know about? Had she done or said something to hurt him somehow? She didn’t understand. There was that time in the lunchroom when he’d run into another student, sending food everywhere. Other kids had made fun of him for that, but she hadn’t. In fact, she thought it was funnier that he’d always carried science fiction or comic books hidden between his textbooks.

Regardless of what made Trey Briggs tick, she needed to stop reliving the past and look forward to the future. Trey got into his black dodge pickup truck and pulled out of the parking lot.

Without thinking, she put her dilapidated van into drive and followed him. She needed to formulate a plan, but had she resorted to paparazzi tactics now? What was she going to say once she got him face-to-face?

Sticking to business was the first course. Calming her frazzled nerves, the second.

She had to convince him she was the best person for the job. He appeared to be an astute businessman, and if he wanted to bring in more customers during the off-tourist seasons and support the local economy, he needed to listen to her.

Chapter Three

Trey drove to the edge of the bluffs. He breathed in the salty sea air and listened to the birds chirp. Running on the beach would clear his head.

Trey climbed down the steep pathway to the beach. He jogged in the sand and relished the feeling of his lungs heaving and legs burning. This is exactly what he needed. No more thoughts of Lauren and how badly he’d handled the news that he was scheduled to interview her.

But maybe he should have interviewed Lauren. He had panicked. The girl flustered him so much in high school he’d reverted to his old ways and assumed she’d unnerve him again.

He ran down the beach and back up the bluff, and his attention wandered to giggling children playing on a swing set as he passed the elementary school. He still felt good that he’d helped to raise money to buy the new playground equipment all those years ago, and he never failed to smile at the wild irises he’d planted nearby that grew back year after year.

A woman dressed in a purple suit with spiked black heels stepped out from behind the slide. He stumbled, but kept himself upright. Those long legs were attached to the girl who used to be taller than him. He would never forget those legs from gym class. His heart skipped a beat and he was momentarily transported back in time, back to when he’d held a candle for the girl who didn’t know he existed. 

Shifting his eyes upward, he noted the scowl emblazoned on the pretty face. She held up her hand as though that would keep him from running around her. What was she going to do, take off her come-hither heels and run after him? He could escape, but instead he let himself be held accountable for the quick, unthinking decision he’d made. He slowed his pace and stopped three feet in front of her.

Her flowery scent of lilac blossoms infused his senses. Sweat trickled down his back. He willed himself to hold her gaze and not be the first to speak, because if he did he was certain he’d say something stupid. On the other hand, he didn’t want to look completely witless, so he stood up a little straighter.

“Hello, Trey,” she said. She licked her bottom lip.

“Lauren.” He gave her a slight nod and tried to come up with a viable excuse for canceling the interview. He couldn’t say he was sick. He could say he hired someone else, but that wasn’t true.

She propped her hand on her hip and flipped her coffee-colored hair over her shoulder. “You canceled our appointment.”

“I did.” Best to keep his responses short. So far, so good—no signs of passing out, a definite improvement from eight years ago.

“Why?” Her green eyes pleaded with him.

He had no explanation for that, at least not a reasonable one. ‘I panicked’ wasn’t going to  cut it.

“Uh. . .” He coughed, pretending his recent run had exerted him. He needed more time to think. What was a good excuse? He’d never been good at lying.

He straightened his spine. “I—I didn’t want to give you an interview,” he said. Now there was a genius response.

“Why?”

His tongue almost lodged in his throat and this time he choked for real.

“Are you all right?” She took a step closer to him.

He swallowed hard and righted himself. “Yes.”

“Do you want your party to have the most delicious foods imaginable or not?” she asked tersely.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” His chest still rose and fell with the exertion from his run. He couldn’t play this game. He was being ridiculously juvenile.

“Listen, Trey.” She rubbed her long fingers across her forehead before meeting his gaze. “I’m kind of having a hard time coming back to town.” She heaved a heavy sigh. “I could use a little help in re-establishing myself. You know Moose’s Tooth makes some of the most mouthwateringly delicious food in town. I have a list of ideas that would make the Salmon Catcher’s re-opening unique and memorable, if you’d just give me a chance to discuss them with you.” She scrutinized him with a contemplative glare, then let a few quiet moments pass. “Would you say something?”

“What’s there to say?”

“How about that you’ll give me the job.”

And have to stand next to her and smell her flowery scent. She’d lean over his desk and surely torture him by small degrees every day. “I—I should probably have given you an interview, but—”

She interrupted as if suddenly manners and etiquette mattered. “You know, we didn’t even start with hello. I mean, not really. I just jumped on your case, but Trey, I have to say, it’s nice to see you again. It’s nice to see a familiar face,” she said with a candid smile.

“Thanks. . . I think,” he replied flatly, wondering how she could be serious. She had plenty of friends in town with faces a lot more familiar than his. But he could have sworn she was checking out his legs. He had to be mistaken.

She laughed and smiled sweetly. “Listen, Trey. . . please, I really need this job. If you accept me back into the fold, then others will, too. I’ve got to make a go of this. Will you give me a chance?”

Accept her back into what fold? What was she talking about? He didn’t believe for one second that she was back in town to stay. He read her blog, but she didn’t know that. Her posts didn’t sound committed to living in Alaska again. She liked her life in California. “Lauren, the Moose’s Tooth has great food, but catering is another thing.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve been working for a catering company for years now. I’ve learned so much. Catering is more than fantastic food—you have to have a theme, and that’s what I’m dying to talk to you about.” Her voice sounded so enthusiastic. And genuine. Like sunshine. “And I know it doesn’t matter, but I was on a reality TV show on the food network. It’s called
The Perfect Taste
. I’m sure you’ve never heard of it, but the whole experience was amazing.”

He did know about her stint on
The Perfect Taste
because she’d written about it on her blog. And he’d watched the clip on YouTube afterward. Maybe more than once.

He’d been an ass for being unfair. An interview. He could give her an interview. She deserved that. It was the least he could do. Then he’d make a sound business decision based on her ideas, not based on some long ago unrequited love.

“Okay,” he said.

Her eyes lit up. “
Okay
I can have an interview, or, okay I can have the job?”

“Okay, I’ll give you an interview,” he said. “Call Kayla and I’ll have her set it up for tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Trey, you won’t regret it.”

He already did.

He walked past her.

Her heels clicked behind him on the sidewalk. “Thank you for giving me a chance,” she called out.

“You’re welcome.” He kept walking. He reached his truck, got in, turned the key’s ignition, and heard a
tap tap tap
on his window.

He glanced up and there she was, inches away from his driver’s side window, with her affable smile and emerald eyes full of expectations.

This was going to be a mistake. It had
mistake
written all over it.

He rolled down his window.

“What time tomorrow?” she asked with glee.

He gripped the steering wheel and put the shifter into gear. Didn’t he just say to call Kayla? “Uh, how about ten o’clock?” He had no idea if that would work, but he wasn’t going to take the time to call Kayla to ask. If he did that, he’d stay next to Lauren longer, smelling her flowery scent and making small talk. He might even let it slip that he reads her blog.

He needed to get some space so he could process what he’d just agreed to.

She beamed. “Ten o’clock sounds perfect.”

He gave her a little salute before hanging his elbow out the window and driving away.

Chapter Four

Lauren walked toward the Briggs Enterprises office, trying her best not to be nervous. She couldn’t give Trey the opportunity to say no. He
had
to hire her.

She had failed as an actress, failed to win
The Perfect Taste
—she couldn’t fail as a business owner, too. She had two options for Trey as far as themes went for the party. If he shot both of those down, she’d pull another idea from somewhere.

Inside the office, Kayla stood up from behind her desk to greet her. Lauren was surprised to see the woman looking so young, probably younger than her.

“Good morning, Miss Kinkade. Can I get you some coffee?”

“No, thank you, but please call me Lauren,” she said, and extended her hand to Kayla.

They shook hands. “Okay, Lauren. If you’d like to take a seat, Mr. Briggs will see you shortly.”

“Great.” Lauren looked around the quaint office space, specifically at the photos on the wall. She immediately walked over to a large photo of Trey holding a King Salmon. His blue eyes mesmerized her. He wore a form-fitted T-shirt, just like yesterday, although in the photo he was wearing hip waders, too. She’d been so flustered seeing Trey up close that she’d nearly lost all focus. Thank God she’d convinced him to give her an interview instead of standing there ogling him.

He looked so different than he had in high school. She’d gotten used to seeing beautiful people since she worked with actors and actresses for the past eight years, but she’d never seen what any of them looked like in high school and how much they’d changed. Or how much plastic surgery had changed them.