LITMIR.BIZ

       Prologue

      “You did not just say Justin Bieber,” Sandra Woolcott exclaimed after setting her wineglass down as gently as she could manage.

      Vicki Ahlfors chuckled and shook her head.

      “Yes, that’s what I said,” Janelle Howerton replied. “Or rather, that’s what the Parents’ Association secretary had typed on the list of demands they presented me this afternoon. In their words, ‘it is imperative that this year’s event have a wow factor.’”

      “And Justin Bieber is a wow factor?” Sandra asked, still looking as if she just could not wrap her mind around the committee’s suggestion.

      “Justin Bieber is a ‘wow, look what he’s doing now’ factor,” Vicki offered. “The last thing we need in Wintersage is the press and those no-class tabloid people hanging around reporting Bieber’s dirt and mixing it in with our homegrown dirt.”

      Janelle nodded. “I absolutely concur. We have enough going here in Wintersage to write a couple of tell-all books. Besides, I’m thinking of classier entertainment.”

      “Well, I guess by wow factor, they must mean who’s hot in the music industry right now. You could get Rihanna,” Vicki suggested.

      “I never did understand why the town put so much time and money into a homecoming dance,” Sandra said. “It’s a high school function, not a national holiday.”

      Janelle tapped a glossy peach-painted nail against her glass, partially agreeing with Sandra’s last comments. It was only a high school dance, but just about every adult living in Wintersage had attended Wintersage Academy, and thus all of them, the mayor and her director of finance included, thought this was the biggest event of the fall season. And since they’d already paid half Janelle’s commission to plan the event, she had no choice but to go along with their madness.

      “Do you remember the homecoming dances when we went to Wintersage? They were the best parties of the school year,” Janelle recollected.

      She, Sandra and Vicki had attended Wintersage Academy together and had even gone on to Nillson University in North Carolina as a trio. When their career dreams seemed as in sync as every other aspect of their lives, they’d opened The Silk Sisters, a one-stop shop for the most over-the-edge, sophisticated and creative events. Alluring Affairs was Janelle’s heart and soul, as it gave her the opportunity to do what she did best—manage and plan. Her résumé of successful events spanned the globe, from corporate events for one of the world’s largest banks to a stellar after-party during NYC’s Fashion Week and the lavish wedding of their very own mayor.

      Sandra’s Swoon Couture was fast becoming one of the go-to boutiques for unique fashions. Her friend’s focus was now on growing her business on a national level, which Janelle knew would be an absolute success, despite how Sandra’s parents liked to downplay their daughter’s dream.

      As for Vicki, her passion had always been the whimsical beauty of floral design. Petals was the name of her flower shop that occupied the first floor of the grand yellow Victorian they’d transformed into their business offices.

      “Girl, yes, I remember,” Sandra replied. “Johnny Blackwell is all I have to say.”

      Janelle laughed and nodded. “Yes! You and Johnny Blackwell dancing so close Principal Chaney personally came to pry you two apart.”

      “And then you carried that X-rated mess back behind the bleachers, using me as a lookout. I should have made you pay me,” Vicki added.

      “Hmm, that seems like forever ago,” Janelle stated. “Remember we were so ready to get out of this town and really live?” She definitely remembered that time herself, even if her best friends didn’t. It had been a time of changes, of rejuvenation, of expectancy. Now, years later, Janelle felt more as if she was in a time of denial, or at least stagnation, and she wasn’t quite sure how to deal with that revelation.

      “What I remember are the nights we used to stay up late, drinking that nasty beer we’d snuck into the dorm,” Vicki said. “We would lie on our beds, bottle in hand, and fantasize about our wedding day. Remember that?”

      Janelle sat back in her chair. She remembered but for years had tried to forget. Not that the memory was painful; it was more that her perfect wedding would not come to fruition. The topic never failed to bring her spirits down, but as usual, she wouldn’t let it show. Janelle Howerton would never taint her family’s name with the darkness that had once hovered around her.

      “I remember you talking about your dream wedding nonstop, like you thought Romeo was going to call to you from outside the window,” Sandra added to Vicki with a chuckle.

      “Don’t laugh—I remember that perfectly, too.” Vicki sat up straighter in her chair, her long hair pulled back into her signature tight bun, clearing her throat and smiling.

      Janelle couldn’t help but smile right along with her. Vicki had always been the romantic of the bunch. She was the one who maintained long-term monogamous relationships always with the hope of meeting Mr. Right, while over the years, Janelle and Sandra had resigned themselves to believe otherwise and to make the necessary concessions.

      “Small, sweet and simple,” Vicki continued. “That’s what I want. I’ll wear my mother’s wedding dress and be surrounded by all my family and friends. It’ll be perfect and romantic and everything I ever dreamed.”

      Sandra nodded. “And it will probably only happen in your dreams.”

      Janelle tried not to chuckle this time, noting the crestfallen look on Vicki’s face at Sandra’s words.

      “It can happen for her,” Janelle said, reaching a hand out to cover Vicki’s. “If she believes in her heart that this is what’s in store for her life, it can happen.”

      “Well,” Sandra announced, slapping her palm on the table, “I believe that Swoon will become an international name among anyone looking for uniquely designed outfits. That’s my goal for the foreseeable future—to hell with all this love and happily-ever-after.”

      “This coming from the woman who has had more dates than I can even imagine ever having in my entire life,” Vicki responded.

      Sandra shook her head, long highlighted strands of brown hair moving alongside her stylish hooped earrings. “A date is not a husband.”

      Janelle didn’t speak but nodded her agreement. This was an old discussion that they’d had more times than she could count during their girls’ meetings at the Quarterdeck. Since their return from college—and even though they worked in the same building and often collaborated throughout the day with each other—the ladies had had a standing ritual to meet every Monday at one of Wintersage’s most popular taverns.

      It helped that the Quarterdeck was located centrally, at the corner of Main Street, its back facing the bay with boats coming and going, right around the corner from the old Victorian they’d renovated for their offices.

      While they normally chatted about business, the events they’d completed and the ones that were upcoming, the conversation, more often than not, ventured back to their own ideas about marriage and men, and so far nothing the others had to say was changing their viewpoints.

      “Well, at least you’re dating,” Vicki continued, ducking her head as she twisted the stirrer in her white wine spritzer.

      “Are

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