Free The Wedding Chapel by Rachel Hauck Page A

forearm. “Bad day. So, where is this AQ shoot?”
    “It’s okay, Jack. You don’t have to care.”
    “I care. Look, I just . . . Things didn’t go well at work.”
    “What do you mean, ‘didn’t go well’?” Taylor gasped. “Did Hops get angry with you for giving me the AQ job?”
    He laughed. Her sincerity moved him. “No, he didn’t get angry.”
    Hops was the opposite of angry. He wanted Jack to move to the London office. And really, Jack should tell Taylor sooner rather than later. But fear of rejection inspired all kinds of procrastination. If Taylor refused to go, then what? Did he go without her?
    Just how committed were they in this six-month-old marriage? The one that bloomed from passion and spontaneity on a Martha’s Vineyard beach.
    When he proposed they hadn’t even talked about things like finances or kids. Or how she might feel about moving across an ocean. But for now, in the immediate, Jack must focus on winning back an account.
    “We have a kink in the FRESH Water account. So, where’s this AQ shoot?”
    “What kind of kink?”
    “The shoot, Taylor. Where’s the shoot—”
    “Heart’s Bend.”
    “Heart’s Bend?” Jack glanced down at her, surprised. “Good ole HB? What’s the job? Photos of decrepit Main Street buildings?”
    “A wedding chapel, if you must know.”
    “A what? There’s no wedding chapel in Heart’s Bend.”
    “Apparently there is. Off River Road. Jimmy Westbrook built it.”
    “Coach Westbrook?”
    “I guess . . .”
    “He built a wedding chapel? Off River Road?” Jack scanned the back roads of his memory. He used to hunt out in the meadows, stealing away from one foster home or another.
    Until Sam and Sarah took him in. Then he picnicked out there with their extended family. All one hundred of them eating fried chicken and collard greens. But he never saw a chapel.
    “So, you’re going home?”
    “Looks like it. Guess it’s serendipitous since I’ve been meaning to get down there, deal with Granny’s house.”
    Taylor had inherited her granny’s house, but she’d only been home once in the past four months to deal with her inheritance. Her sister sent updates on things she’d taken or given away, but Taylor was needed to finish up. But like Jack, she seemed happier avoiding their hometown. Avoiding memories. For Taylor, it was her parents. Mainly her father.
    “I thought I’d stay down there for a week, deal with the house. I’ve been leaving all the work to Emma.”
    “Sounds good.”
    “Y-you want to come with?” Her question came softly, tentatively.
    “To Heart’s Bend?” Jack shook his head. Once he left, he never looked back. “No, I’ve got work here. We lost the FRESH account.”
    “Oh, Jack, I’m sorry.” She lightly brushed his arm and he accepted her comfort, though he otherwise remained ticked off. “How could you lose an account you’ve had for so long? Didn’t they like your presentation?”
    “Oh, they loved it. Very much when Alpine & Schmidt presented it to them.”
    “Huh? They presented your campaign?”
    “They stole it.”
    Taylor laughed until his sharp glance cut her off. “What? You’re serious? Someone stole your campaign? Are they in third grade?”
    “Apparently Carmen gets chatty when she’s had a few drinks. She blabbed the whole thing to her boyfriend over dinner one night.” Jack left the rail for the balcony table they’d purchased the first week they’d moved in with visions of dinner under the stars.
    But so far they only used it to catch bird droppings.
    “Carmen?” Taylor sat next to him. “The top copywriter at 105?”
    “Yes, and her boyfriend is the head copywriter at Alpine & Schmidt.”
    “Jack, no . . . Surely she knows better.”
    “One would think. FRESH Water has been my account for three years. Hops won the account ten years ago. Thanks to Carmen, Alpine heard FRESH was coming to town to meet with us about a new brand ad campaign and invited them to a meeting at