would raise most people’s eyebrows, but she also knew Kylie Shaw would be fine with it.
“Absolutely,” Kylie said. “Russ and I had a badger couple on our wedding cake.”
That spring, Kylie’s whirlwind romance with Russ Colton, a security consultant, had taken them both by surprise, never mind everyone else in their small town of Knights Bridge, Massachusetts. Felicity smiled. “Of course you did.” They were seated across from each other at the table on the balcony of Kylie and Russ’s second-floor apartment in a renovated nineteenth-century hat factory. The balcony overlooked the river, flowing gently on the warm summer afternoon. Russ had spent the past two weeks in Southern California, wrapping up his life and work there now that he and Kylie had decided to settle in Knights Bridge. They’d bought a house a mile or so farther up the river and were having work done on it before moving in later in the summer.
Kylie reached for her iced tea. “Russ let Sherlock Badger oversee security for the wedding,” she said, matter-of-fact.
Sherlock was one of her popular fictional characters. “I’m sure Sherlock did a fine job,” Felicity said.
“He’s the best. Russ likes to say we’ll be fine provided I don’t confuse my Middle Branch badgers with real badgers.”
“Who says your Middle Branch badgers aren’t real?”
Kylie beamed. “Exactly what I tell him!”
Felicity wouldn’t be surprised if Kylie was only half kidding. Under her pseudonym of Morwenna Mills, she was the creator of the Badgers of Middle Branch, a popular series of children’s books. Felicity, an event planner, was helping Kylie with a party to celebrate the newest installment in the series, set in an idyllic village on a river. The mom and dad badgers were veterinarians, modeled after Kylie’s own family. A tiny version of Sherlock Badger occupied a spot on Kylie’s worktable. She’d made the mini badger herself with scraps of fabric and tufts of dryer lint.
Unlike Felicity, Kylie hadn’t grown up in Knights Bridge. They’d hit it off upon Felicity’s return to her hometown in May, when she’d bought a house farther up on the river, just down from the site of Kylie and Russ’s new house. Felicity loved her house despite her complicated personal history with it, seeing how she’d lost her virginity there. Not in the house itself. It hadn’t been built yet. But on a blanket in front of the outdoor fireplace that still stood there...
“Knights Bridge is keeping you busy, Felicity,” Kylie said.
She yanked herself out of her thoughts. “Works for me. I’m having a blast.”
Kylie studied her a moment, as if guessing Felicity’s mind had wandered to someplace forbidden. They were both wearing dresses, given the warm weather, Kylie in a casual maxi, Felicity in a knee-length tunic. Kylie had her hair pulled back, its pale blond making her blue eyes stand out. Felicity had never been good with hair. Hers was dark blond, shoulder-length and unruly unless she fussed with it, which she rarely did.
“My book party is just a week after the launch of the entrepreneurial boot camp,” Kylie said. “That won’t stretch you too thin?”
“Not at all.” The one-day boot camp, the brainchild of Dylan McCaffrey, another Knights Bridge newcomer, was Felicity’s biggest event yet in her hometown. “I did corporate event planning in Boston for three years. I love being on my own, having the chance to do more fun events. Baby showers, bridal showers—your book party. I have a Jane Austen tea party on Sunday at the local assisted-living residence.”
“The aptly named Rivendell. There’s a lot of knowledge in that place.”
“No question,” Felicity said. “The tea includes a literary lecture and Regency period costumes.”
“You must know almost everyone there.” Kylie drank some of her tea and returned the glass to the table. Lunch had been simple—salads from the local country store, chocolate, iced tea. “I’m still fairly new to Knights Bridge. I’m doing better with names and faces, but I still get lost in the connections between the locals. Russ does, too, but he figures sometimes the less he knows, the better. He doesn’t want to know who slept with whom as teenagers, that’s for sure.”
Felicity wondered if her cheeks had reddened, given the turn her mind had taken a few minutes ago. “I don’t, either, but since I did grow up here...” She picked up her iced tea. “I’ll leave it at that.”
“Now that’s a tease! Not you and Mark Flanagan—”
“No,” Felicity said. “Absolutely not. Never.”
But Mark, the architect who’d renovated and owned the old mill, had a brother, and he was another story altogether.
Felicity shook off that thought, gulped her tea and returned to planning Kylie’s book-launch party. They’d chosen the Knights Bridge Free Public Library as the venue. Written before Kylie had met Russ, this latest installment featured a lonely badger aunt who helps the mice and the badger kids with their fairy-house dilemma and in so doing reunites with her own family and friends. Felicity could sort of identify with Auntie Badger. Kylie was also illustrating a series of classic fairy tales that would launch over the winter with Hansel and Gretel. Then came Sleeping Beauty and Little Red Riding Hood. She was working on Beauty and the Beast. Felicity assumed there’d be a launch party for the series, but she and Kylie hadn’t gotten that far in their discussions.
“I’ve been holed up here working for weeks,” Kylie said with a contented sigh. “It’ll be good to be around people again.”
“Going from solitude to a launch party is a big change.”
“It is, for sure. I’ve kept up with my children’s story hour at the library, and I sometimes run into people when I’m out for a walk.”
Felicity had come to realize Kylie wasn’t the least bit antisocial. She just had protracted periods of deep work. Felicity thought she understood, but her own work as an event manager was quite different. For one thing, the events she organized were never her parties, meetings or conferences. Kylie’s books were very much hers. She was dedicated to her work. Felicity liked running her own business, but she’d expected to have a career in finance. When that didn’t pan out, she’d ventured into event planning. She’d learned the ropes working with a small, high-end business in Boston and struck out on her own nine months ago, finally returning to Knights Bridge.
In Boston, she’d never known her clients on a personal level. These days she found herself planning events with clients who were friends and neighbors. She still had a handful of out-of-town corporate clients, but her small hometown was bursting at the seams with all sorts of parties and events. Weddings, milestone birthdays, babies, retirements, new jobs, housewarming parties. She didn’t plan every get-together in town, and she didn’t focus on weddings—they were a particular specialty—but with an experienced event manager right there on the river, why not hire her?
“We need to throw a party for you one day,” Kylie said, breaking into Felicity’s thoughts.
“Me? I’d need something to celebrate.”
“Pick something. It doesn’t have to be big. Paint the kitchen. We’ll celebrate.”
Felicity didn’t for a moment doubt Kylie’s sincerity. Kylie was incredibly genuine, with none of the maneuvering and artificial niceties Felicity had too often witnessed in her work. “Cake it is,” she
