Is It Any Wonder (Nantucket Love Story #2) - Courtney Walsh Page 0,33
curiosity for a long moment as McKenzie tossed her head back, flipping her perfectly styled long blonde waves and resting a hand on Cody’s bicep.
Gross. How obvious could she be?
But even as she had the thought, it occurred to her that Cody was smiling. At McKenzie Palmer. And they looked really lovely together.
She got off the bike and pretended to be searching for something in her cross-body bag, purposely turned away from the scene playing out in front of her.
“Louisa Chambers, as I live and breathe.”
McKenzie had a Southern accent. It was curious because as far as Louisa knew, the woman was from Iowa, but who was she to judge? Though she thought if a person was going to fake an accent, it would be smarter to pretend to be British. That accent was simply delightful. But this put-on drawl of McKenzie’s? No thank you.
Yet the woman had influence in the community and especially online. Louisa couldn’t afford to make an enemy of her. Not that Louisa had enemies.
She turned to face McKenzie.
“Did you come down to thank your hero in person?” McKenzie’s smile spread across her face like cream cheese on a bagel.
Great, now I’m hungry.
“I’ve already thanked him,” Louisa said.
“He sure is hunky,” McKenzie said. “Single, too. I asked.” She raised her eyebrows. Unlike Maggie, McKenzie Palmer had invested in a pair of tweezers. Her neatly coiffed brows matched her perfectly groomed everything else. She looked like she’d just stepped off a magazine shoot. And judging by her blog, she most likely had. Sometimes Louisa wondered if McKenzie had hired a photographer to follow her around all day, snapping photos of her posing on the cobblestone streets of Nantucket. Seriously, who took those photos?
“Have you thought any more about my story idea?” McKenzie asked. “This whole damsel-in-distress thing won’t last forever.”
“I’m not a damsel in distress,” Louisa said. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She didn’t want to be reduced to one of those women who needed a man to swoop in and save the day.
But if Cody hadn’t swooped, she would’ve died. The weight of that might never escape her.
“XPO Boggs said he’d talk to me.” McKenzie’s expression turned wry.
“Great. He’s full of stories, I’m sure.” She tried not to sound sarcastic. She didn’t try hard enough.
“You really should be more grateful to him, Louisa,” McKenzie said. “He’s a hero. An actual hero, and you’re not the only person he’s saved.”
Maybe not, but Louisa knew it likely mattered very little how many people Cody saved. He hadn’t saved the one person who mattered most. That was probably what drove him in the first place.
“I have a meeting, McKenzie,” Louisa said with a wave. “Nice to see you.”
“You, too,” she called out in her singsongy voice. Louisa couldn’t be sure, but she thought two or three chirping sparrows circled around McKenzie’s head as she walked away.
She turned back to the station and inhaled a sharp breath. Here goes nothing.
The melody of “My White Knight” from the Broadway musical The Music Man drifted through her mind as she strode toward the door. She groaned. She didn’t need old-time love songs in her head right before she sat down with Cody Boggs.
She walked inside the station and instantly felt out of place. She shouldn’t have agreed to meet here. She should’ve insisted he come back to her office so she could pitch her ideas.
“Hey, you’re that woman.” One of the guardsmen stood a few yards away. “The one we saved the other day.”
Oh yeah, this would be fun.
“That’s me,” she said.
He grinned at her. “You got lucky.”
Luck had nothing to do with it.
“I’m here to see XPO Boggs.” She’d stolen his title from McKenzie. Truth was, she had no idea what Cody’s rank was or what it meant, but nobody needed to know that.
“’Course you are,” the man replied. “All the pretty ones want to talk to Boggs.”
“Louisa?”
She turned and found Cody standing in the doorway of what she could only assume was an office.
“We can meet in here.” He took a step into the nondescript room, furnished with a desk, two bookshelves, and a window that faced the ocean.
She stood awkwardly in the doorway. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
He eyed her for a split second, then motioned toward the chair on the opposite side of the desk. “Have a seat.”
He clearly didn’t have time for witty banter today, which was a shame because she felt especially witty at the moment.