the ladies’ room. No conspiring while I’m not here.”
As Kyla headed down the back hallway, Hayley took her place on the elegant couch, looking a little out of place in her T-shirt and jeans among the acres of white satins and silks. She looked steadily at Jess in the mirror, just long enough to make her squirm.
“What?” Jess felt her eyebrows furrow. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Do you remember the first time we came out here?”
“Of course I do. Kyla was a disaster, Decker turned out to be a knight in shining cowboy boots, and now look at them.”
“And do you remember the second time?”
“Why are we playing memory lane here?”
“Because I am making a point.” Hayley patted the couch beside her. “Come sit.”
Jess sighed, but complied, settling gingerly in the dress, not wanting to cause a single wrinkle. “Okay, I’m sitting. What have you been assigned to talk to me about while Kyla is pretending to be indisposed?”
“I’m supposed to plant a seed that you should think about just staying out here for the rest of the summer.”
“And how are you supposed to do that, Ms. subtle-pants? I mean, since Kyla’s already been saying that for weeks.”
“Well, clearly she needed backup. I maybe am supposed to talk about how we know business back east is kind of in the toilet because of summer—but I’m supposed to say it in a nicer way than that. And then I’m supposed to wax poetic about this new spa and how it needs your touch to make it a reality.”
Hayley shrugged. “And then I’m supposed to pull at your heartstrings and talk about how terrible it is that your two best friends in the entire world are out here, and you’re almost three thousand miles away on the other side of the country.”
“You’re the ones who deserted me, I might remind you. We all started in Boston.”
“Details.” Hayley waved a hand carelessly. “Point being, we’re out here now and you’re not, and we miss you.”
“Aw, Hayls. Thanks.” Jess felt her chest squeeze. “I miss you guys, too. But I can’t really just up and leave Boston, even if my studio is—kind of in the toilet—as you so eloquently put it. That would be a huge decision.”
The studio was the last of her concerns right now, but she couldn’t tell Hayley that. No way. Jess still had no idea how she was going to deal with the situation in Smugglers’ Gully, and hiding out here in Montana was looking more attractive every day. But no. She’d already been hiding for thirteen years. She most certainly wasn’t going to bring her friends into the game.
She sighed. “It would be amazing to be able to stay out here. It really would. It’s just not that simple.”
“Well, think about it. We’d love it, Ma would love to have you—and I imagine Cole wouldn’t mind, either.”
“I think Cole’s got enough women fawning over him to care whether I stick around or not.”
Hayley tipped her head. “I’m not so sure. I told you I’m almost convinced that male slut thing is a cover.”
“For?”
“For a guy who grew up in his brother’s shadow and had to figure out a different way to get attention.”
Jess smiled. “Seems kind of extreme. He does have other skills he could have gone with.”
“Maybe this one was the most fun.” Hayley sat back, stretching. “Maybe you could help him figure out what those other skills might be. You know—if you stayed.”
“It would be a terrible challenge.” Jess fanned herself.
“Might take all summer.”
Jess rolled her eyes. “You know, Kyla is pretty blunt with her matchmaking, but next to you, she’s downright subtle.”
Hayley laughed. “I know. I’m still new at it. But even a newbie can feel the sparks when you two are anywhere near each other. If we left the two of you in a room full of gas cans, poom! We’d have to call 911 to put out the fire. Sparks, baby. Big, flaming, gorgeous sparks.”
“Oh my God. You are impossible.” Jess shook her head, laughing. “Hayls, be serious. He’s dating so many women right now he can’t even decide who to bring to the wedding.”
“Not true. He hasn’t been out with anyone in forever.” She grimaced carefully. “Weeks, even.”
“Gosh, a practical dating Sahara. Poor boy.”
“You know,”—Hayley shifted, pulling her legs up under her on the couch—“it occurs to me that you are the one who’s usually doing the whole Whisper Creek magic flutter-finger thing. Do you not believe it yourself?”
“I believe