“Would you mind taking a picture of me with the house in the background?” Giddy excitement sweetened her tone.

Noticing the pink tinge dusted her cheeks, Carrie Ann asked on a whim, “I’ve got an extra VIP pass for the movie premier Saturday night. Would you like to go with me? We’ll have to work it a little, but…”

“This Saturday?” Her entire body slumped in disappointment. “Oh man. I can’t believe I have to turn you down, but I have a date Saturday night.”

“You could always cancel. Or change the date.”

“You don’t understand.” Sara shook her head. A timid grin crept over her petite features. “As much as I’d love to stroll down the red carpet with you, Carrie Ann, I need this date. I even bought a new pink nighty.”

“Ahh, I totally understand.” A quick round of pings tap danced a circle around her lower belly at the mere thought of new-sex jitters. “Believe me, I’d rather be in your position.”

Sara snickered pressing her palms together in a pleading fashion. “Amen. I’m praying for a few good positions.”

Both women laughed as she snapped a photo of Sara posing in front of the infamous Rose Courtyard. They moseyed to the far edge of the outdoor pavilion, soaking up the California sunshine before the hectic agenda broke loose.

“I’ve been watching the weather reports. Hopefully the storm moving up from the gulf holds out until after the auction, but if not the party planners will provide dropdown walls, heaters, whatever we need. They’re bringing a van full of their finest examples.”

Tilting her face skyward, Carrie Ann closed her eyes to the brightness. She prayed the weather held off. Not for the sake of the party, but for the sake of her sanity. Stormy nights always brought back the horrible memory of the night her mother died. She could deal with the rain and strong winds. She could even tolerate the grumbles of thunder in the distance. But she hated the lightening. The deafening cracks snapping through the night sky still wielded a brutal assault on her emotions. A sickening feeling of total loss and heartache that made her stomach turn.

“I’m still not happy about using the tents,” she complained. Her tenacity outweighing reason.

“The canopy?”

“They can attempt to dress it up all they want by using the word canopy, but it’s still a damn tent. It’s half the size of a football field! I’ve been envisioning this event for a year and not one time did I conjure up a beautiful image of a tent.”

“It’s not that bad, Carrie Ann. By the time we bring in the stage, dance floor, and all the tables dressed with candles and beautiful flowers, the staleness will disappear. If it rains—”

“I’ve put in an order to the weather gods.” A firm business-like voice carried over the expansive travertine. “They’ve promised to hold off on the deluge until after the auction.”

Jason appeared from the shadows of the open doorway. He ambled toward them wearing a light grey suit, crisp white shirt and patterned navy blue tie. Dark sunglasses concealed his sapphire eyes, but a wide smile stretched across his lips, drawing a discreet sigh of appreciation from Sara.

“I’m going to need all the weather-prayers I can get.” Carrie Ann grinned extending a hand.

“Nah, you’ll pull it off.” Jason clasped her hand in both of his. “What do you think of the estate?”

Sweeping a dithering glance from one side of the property to the other, Carrie Ann shrugged in a ho-hum sort of way. Her smile ultimately giving away her approval. “It’s amazing. I can’t thank you enough for the recommendation.”

Sara nodded in agreement. The growing shade of pink deepened further across the apples of her cheeks. Carrie Ann immediately noticed a shift in her assistant’s body language the moment Jason approached.

“You’re welcome and I’m glad you finally came to your senses. It took some convincing, but I think you made a wise choice.”

The pleasant sound of mission bells rang through the hidden outdoor sound system.

“That must be the party planners,” Sara announced, glimpsing at her watch. “I’ll go let them in.”

The trio started for the house. Reaching the backdoor, Sara stepped inside, but Jason paused at the threshold, casually guiding Carrie Ann off to the side. “I was wondering if you’d like to get a drink later. Early celebration?”

“Can I get a rain check?” Straightaway, she realized her mistake in word choice as a look of optimism flicked the edge of his mouth. “No pun intended,” she added glancing at the heavens above, hoping to pull off her slip as an intentional joke.

“I should’ve guessed you’d already have a date for the evening.” He was fishing…cautiously. “A smart, beautiful woman—”

She cut him off before smooth charm turned to overkill. “Actually, today is my birthday. My best friend, Shayla, is in town, so we’re having dinner.”

“Ah, happy birthday.”

Foregoing a hand shake, he opted for a brief, but full-frontal embrace. His gaze landed on her cleavage for a full three seconds before releasing her from his arms. A male reaction she’d grown accustomed to since she turned sixteen. Lucky for Jason it was a harmless peek, otherwise he would’ve found the heel of her flirty Kate Spade piercing painfully into his toe.

“Thanks.” Voices coming from the grand foyer seized her attention. “I need to get going.”

“Maybe we can squeeze lunch in before the auction?”

“Let me check my schedule.” She settled for a noncommittal response.

Carrie Ann enjoyed Jason’s company. He exuded intelligence, good looks, and an impressive portfolio. However, she didn’t want to give him false hope. Nor did she want to seem rude.

As the day went on, excitement gathered momentum. Carrie Ann met with party planners, caterers, a florist, and musicians, nailing down each option with clear, concise decisions. Making the long drive home through rush hour traffic, exhaustion began to set in. Watching the sun dip low in the sky on it’s descent toward the Pacific, she pushed out her worries and concerns. Only nine days remained until the auction, and that meant vacation beckoned in ten. She intended to leave her lists and laptop behind, collapsing in bed for a few days before indulging in two full weeks of solitude. A little rest and relaxation was exactly what she needed before the mayhem of the HAH Bare Your Soul Calendar preparations began.

Carrie Ann considered skipping dinner with Shayla and heading straight for a glass of wine and her pillow. However, they hadn’t enjoyed a girls-only night in a long time and she couldn’t wait to catch up.

Gaining her second wind, she hurried to the door hearing a knock. Not bothering to look out the peephole, Carrie Ann grinned yanking open the door. “I am so ready for a night—”

Her words drifted off and the smile chased away from her lips, coming face to face with a young man wearing khakis and a red shirt. He cradled a lavish bouquet of long stem red roses, accented with white tulips and stephanotis, tied with a delicate strand of taffeta ribbon.

Her heart stopped.

“I have a delivery for Ms. Lowell.”

Old feelings bowled through her stomach, catching her off guard. The pain ripping through her heart nearly dropped her to her knees.

“That would be me,” she croaked.

The deliveryman held out the arrangement expecting her take it, but her legs turned to jelly and she staggered backward into the house. Her hands remained locked at her sides, refusing to touch the flowers.

He followed inside asking, “Where would you like me to put them?”

She swallowed hard over the sullen lump of despondency growing in her throat.

Unable to respond, she merely stood there gripping the back of her sofa, watching as he hastily placed the flowers on the end table. He uttered something, a company jingle of sorts, rushing out the door, but she couldn’t summon one word in return.