“You bet. Have fun.”
Hanging up, Chantelle pressed her cell to herchest. She waited again for the spark between them. She likedJavier, but was it more than friendship? She sighed, but her cellrang once more. Did he call back by accident? Facing her screen, itwasn’t Javier. It was her boss. Chantelle answered to get theconversation over with.
“I’m liking the notes you’ve sent so far,”Brenda said. “Even the pictures are helping. Lance looks like theperfect groom.”
“I’m glad you like it.” She brushed her hairbehind her ears as the wind picked up.
“Anything else I should know about?”
“Like what?” Chantelle asked.
“Chantelle, I told you we need an angle withthis story.”
“I know but we’re not a gossip magazine.”
“True, but we report truth to our readers.All I’m asking is for a little more edge. Is he speaking to Andreaat all? She’s not in the photos you sent me.”
“She’s working.”
“Okay, so expound on that. Why would she beworking so close to the wedding? How does Lance feel about this?Does he support her?” Brenda coaxed.
“I’ll do what I can, but I’m not exploitingthis wedding.”
“I’m not expecting you to. Just give me alittle more.” Brenda hung up and Chantelle stuffed her phone insideher pocket. More edge. Find out more about Andrea.
What was keeping her away? Lance didn’t hintat anything personal. Why would he?
***
Chantelle stared inside her mother’srefrigerator. It held more stacks of meat. Her mother had even morein the refrigerator in the garage. Hamburgers, chicken wings, andhot dogs were on the menu for the town’s summer kickoff. The lasttime Chantelle attended one, there had been macaroni salad, fruitsalad, lasagnas and other casseroles, coleslaw, watermelon slicesand chips. She could smell the boiling corn now, along with theblooming flowers from nearby.
“That’s a lot of meat,” Chantelle said,bobbing her head.
“About to start up the grill outside.”Douglas rubbed his palms together.
Her mother grabbed her apron. She looked overat her daughter. “Want to help?”
Chantelle walked over to the sink and washedher hands. “I can season the meat.”
“Bring them out when they’re ready.” Douglaskissed her mother’s cheek and then proceeded to the backyard.
Chantelle watched her mother stare after herhusband. Then she returned to her station in front of the islandand unpacked the package of hamburger meat. Seasoned salt, garlicpowder, and onion powder were her spices of choice. Inching closerto her mother, Chantelle rested her elbows on the island, leaningon the butcher block countertop.
“Everything okay?” Her mother asked.
“A lot on my mind.” She straightened andsprinkled seasoning salt on the hamburger meat.
“How’s the article coming?”
Chantelle stared at the floor. “It’scoming.”
“Something wrong?”
Chantelle’s hands paused. “Nothing I can’thandle.”
“You don’t have to prove anything to me. Youknow that, sweetie.”
She looked over at her mother. Chantelle knewshe could talk to her. Even when she had to tell her she waspregnant at eighteen, she’d been brave and told the truth. Hermother’s face had dropped, but she had held her daughter close.
“I don’t know what to do,” Chantelle said.Tension released from her body.
“About what? Working with Lance?” Hermother’s thin eyebrows rose. “I could have told you that.”
Was it that obvious? “How so?”
“The history you two share? Give me a littlecredit, sweetie. He bolted out of here when he saw you. I can onlyimagine his attitude since you’ve been working together.”
Chantelle’s mouth twisted into a grin.“You’re not wrong about that. We’ve gotten better despite our...history.”
“Are you ready to talk about it?”
She shook her head. “My job is what’s mostimportant right now. But...” She wiped her hands with a dishtowel.“My boss wants the story to have more edge.”
“It’s a wedding. What’s so edgy about that?”Her mother sprinkled the hamburger meat with onion powder andkneaded it to mix the spices as one would knead dough.
Chantelle explained. “Lance is pretty much acelebrity. While there are those that love a happy ending, my bosswants me to make the story realistic. I think she wants me to letour audience in on some of Lance’s secrets. Like if there’s troublewith him and Andrea.”
Her mother replied. “I don’t think Lance hasanything to hide. He is a private person, so I can understand if hedoesn’t want all of his business in your article. You respect that,no matter what your boss says.”
“But I can’t stop thinking that revealingmore would have to include... me.”
Her mother stared at her. “This article isabout him and Andrea. You and Lance were a long time ago.”
“Times are different, Mom. People can findanything nowadays and ruin somebody on social media.” She sighed.“Perhaps I should have passed on the story. I—”
Her mother stopped her. “They picked you andthat’s final. I think to a certain degree Lance may be morecomfortable with you since you know each other.”
Chantelle leaned against the counter. “I’monly starting to regain his trust.” She gave a mirthless laugh. “Itlooks like his fiancé wants to waltz at their wedding, so he’staking lessons.”
Her mother chuckled. “Poor Lance. I rememberyour stained prom dress that night. How did you two bump into thepunch bowl?”
Chantelle giggled along with her mother. “Iguess we were having fun.”
“You always brought out the best in oneanother.” Her mother moved to the sink to clean her hands.
Chantelle’s feet shuffled on the hardwoodfloors. “It’s worse, Mom.” Her voice choked.
Her mother faced her. “What are you talkingabout?”
Despite biting her lip, the tears brimmed inher eyes. Without another word, her mother embraced her. Chantellerested her head on her mother’s shoulder, while her mother pattedher back.
“Tell me, sweetie.”
Breaking the embrace, Chantelle wiped hereyes. “I think I’m falling for him again.”
“Oh Chantelle.” Her mother tilted her head tothe side. “Are you sure?”
She bobbed her head. “We’ve been spending alot of time together. I thought I could keep it professional, butwhen I went to the bar and grill with Javier, Lance was there withGrant and two other guys. I wanted to enjoy the evening out, butbeing with Javier only made me think about Lance.” She covered hereyes with her hands. “I’ve been saying it’s nothing, but I’mthinking it is.”
“What are you going to do? Tell him so closeto his wedding?” Her mother asked.
Chantelle waved the comment away. “I can’t dothat. It’s not fair to him or his fiancé. I’m
