Starting Over In Wickham Falls (Wickham Falls Weddings Book 9) Read online




  A new business and a new home—

  Georgina Powell thought that was all the “new” she could handle!

  Georgina Powell is finally moving out of her parents’ house—at thirty-two! And after years of carrying her mother’s grief, she’s ready for something new. She just didn’t expect it to come in the form of Langston Cooper, the famed war correspondent who recently returned to buy Wickham Falls’ local paper. But as she opens her own business, his role as editor in chief may pull him in a different direction—away from their future together.

  Nationally Bestselling Author Rochelle Alers

  Georgina smiled when she realized she had to make one more phone call. “I got it,” she said when Langston answered her call. “I can open A Stitch at a Time in early July.”

  “Congratulations, sweetheart. Are you ready to celebrate?”

  “Not yet. I’m going to wait for my grand opening.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I know I can’t keep you out too late, so I’m coming over to take you to the Den. Once you’re up and running, I’ll take you someplace real fancy so we can celebrate on a grand scale.”

  Georgina wanted to tell Langston that she didn’t need a fancy restaurant to commemorate what she’d planned and patiently waited for. The fact that her shop was going to become a reality was enough. However, it had been a while since she’d gone to the sports bar. The last time was when Sutton had come up from Atlanta during the All Star break. When they’d walked in together he’d been given the rock-star treatment with fist bumps, slaps on the back and some had even asked for his autograph.

  “Give me time to shower and change my clothes.”

  “Can you be ready in thirty minutes?”

  She glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was seven thirty. “Yes.”

  “I’ll be there at eight.”

  WICKHAM FALLS WEDDINGS:

  Small-town heroes, bighearted love!

  Dear Reader,

  I sincerely want to thank you for your ongoing support for the Wickham Falls Weddings series, and welcome you back to a town with quirky folks who will occasionally remind you of members in your own family.

  You caught a glimpse of Georgina Powell in Second-Chance Sweet Shop, and once she appeared on page I knew I wanted to know more about this biracial beauty who has become a modern-day Cinderella.

  In Starting Over in Wickham Falls, Langston has returned after an award-winning career as a foreign correspondent covering wars on the other side of the world to assume ownership of a failing biweekly. As the editor in chief of The Sentinel, he is involved in civic and governmental affairs, and when he is seated at the same table with Georgina during a fund-raiser dinner-dance, he finds himself enchanted with the stunningly beautiful thirtysomething woman who still lives with her parents.

  Georgina, who has deferred her dream to become an illustrator to join her family’s business, is drawn to the erudite journalist who supports her ambition to join the ranks of a growing number of the town’s independent businesswomen. What begins as an easygoing friendship evolves into a relationship as she discovers herself falling in love with a man who doesn’t view her as just the heiress to the town’s most profitable business enterprise.

  Happy reading!

  Rochelle Alers

  Starting Over in Wickham Falls

  Rochelle Alers

  Since 1988, national bestselling author Rochelle Alers has written more than eighty books and short stories. She has earned numerous honors, including the Zora Neale Hurston Award, the Vivian Stephens Award for Excellence in Romance Writing and a Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews. She is a member of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc., Iota Theta Zeta Chapter. A full-time writer, she lives in a charming hamlet on Long Island. Rochelle can be contacted through her website, www.rochellealers.org.

  Books by Rochelle Alers

  Harlequin Special Edition

  Wickham Falls Weddings

  Home to Wickham Falls

  Her Wickham Falls SEAL

  The Sheriff of Wickham Falls

  Dealmaker, Heartbreaker

  This Time for Keeps

  Second-Chance Sweet Shop

  American Heroes

  Claiming the Captain’s Baby

  Twins for the Soldier

  Harlequin Kimani Romance

  The Eatons

  Sweet Persuasions

  Twice the Temptation

  Sweet Dreams

  Sweet Deception

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Excerpt from The Reluctant Fiancée by Lynne Marshall

  Chapter One

  Georgina Powell stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror, shocked and saddened at the same time with her transformation. The last time she’d taken special care with her appearance was for her high school prom. And that had been more than a decade ago. What, she asked herself, had she been doing for the past fourteen years? But she knew the answer; she hadn’t been living but just existing.

  Her dream of enrolling in art school to become an illustrator had vanished completely with the unexpected death of her thirteen-year-old brother from meningitis. Her parents had been planning for Kevin to take over running the store once they retired, but their plans were transferred to her.

  Kevin’s death changed their family’s dynamics. Her mother appeared emotionally unable to recover from losing a child; her father threw himself into running the business as if it was a startup instead of one that had been well established for generations. And it had taken Georgina a very long time to come to the realization that her brother, whom she’d nicknamed Shadow because he followed her around as if he feared she would disappear, was gone and wasn’t coming back.

  Tonight signaled a change in Georgina’s life. Not only did she look different outwardly, but she’d also changed inwardly. The body-hugging black gown and matching four-inch, silk-covered stilettos had replaced the ubiquitous navy blue smock with Powell’s Department Store stitched over the back she wore over dark slacks. Her face with smoky shadows on her lids and a vibrant vermilion lip color, curly hair flat-ironed and tucked into a twist behind her ear completed her outward makeover. But it was her determination to move out of the house where she’d lived for the past thirty-two years that would alter her life.

  Once her father downsized, and then eliminated the arts and crafts area of the store in order to expand the sporting goods section, it sparked an idea that had nagged at her for weeks. Georgina boxed up the stock and dropped it off at a storage facility with the intent of establishing her own business in the same town where she’d spent her entire life.

  Picking up a black silk-lined cashmere shawl trimmed in faux fox, to ward off the chill of the mid-March night air, an envelope with the invitation and a beaded evening bag, Georgina walked out of the bedroom and down the back staircase to the garage located behind the two-story house. She manage
d to leave without encountering her mother. This was to become her first Wickham Falls Chamber of Commerce fund-raiser, an event that had been supported by both parents over the years, and then by only her father following Kevin’s passing.

  Georgina was shocked one night when after closing, Bruce Powell informed her that he wouldn’t be attending and that she should take his place to represent the business. And when she’d asked her father why, his comeback was that it was time for her to prepare to take complete control of the department store once he retired. She’d wanted to tell him that she had no intention of managing the store because if she was going to assume that type of responsibility then it would be her own business enterprise.

  She slipped behind the wheel of her late-model Nissan Rogue, an SUV she’d purchased to celebrate her thirty-second birthday. And at the beginning of the year, she’d made a New Year’s resolution to cross off at least three of the remaining nine notations on her to-do list. The first had been to trade in the Mini Cooper for the Rogue because she needed more room to transport the items needed to stock her new store.

  Georgina started up the vehicle that still claimed a new-car smell and headed for the venue in Wickham Falls where the fund-raiser would be held for the first time. In the past the members of the Chamber had contracted with a hotel off the interstate to hold the annual event in one of their ballrooms.

  A shiver of excitement rippled through Georgina when she thought about the plans she’d made for her future. She was aware that she had to work hard and probably make unforeseen sacrifices to realize her dream to become an independent business owner. But the knowledge that she would join a small number of women owning and operating their own businesses in Wickham Falls, West Virginia, was heady indeed.

  Fifteen minutes later she maneuvered into a space between a Ram 1500 and a Ford F-150. You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy, she mused. Whether attending the local sports bar or a semiformal affair, pickups were the preferred modes of transportation in the town where the population still hovered below five thousand.

  Thankfully, the Gibsons, who owned the Wolf Den, when they erected a barn at the rear of the property for larger gatherings, had paved the parking lot. Georgina gathered her belongings off the passenger seat and alighted from the SUV.

  A small crowd had gathered at the entrance to the barn and as she waited in line, she recognized several customers who patronized the department store. Powell’s, as the locals called it, had survived despite big-box stores going up in neighboring towns because the Falls’ town officials insisted if its citizenry lived local, then they should shop local. The town council had repeatedly voted down any developer’s bid to put up strip malls with fast food restaurants and variety shops because they would impact and threaten the viability of Wickham Falls’ mom-and-pop stores.

  She finally made her way to the reception desk where the wives of several members were checking off names against ticket numbers. The woman glanced at her ticket, and then up at Georgina, her eyes widening in shock.

  “Oh, my dear,” she whispered. “I almost didn’t recognize you, Georgina.”

  She gave the elderly woman with stylishly salt-and-pepper coiffed hair a sweet smile. “There are occasions when we’re forced to clean up, Mrs. Bachmann.”

  The woman, whose husband was the Chamber’s treasurer, nodded. “And I must say you clean up very well. I’m sorry your father can’t attend, but I’m glad you’re here to represent Powell’s. By the way, you’re at table number seven with others who will attend without a plus-one. You’ll find your place card there.”

  “Thank you.”

  She wanted to tell the woman that Bruce Powell was upset that he’d had to attend another social event without his wife, which led to rumors that he and Evelyn were having marital issues. There wasn’t an issue but that Evelyn Powell had become a social recluse. She was rarely seen in the store and had resigned from all the town’s civic organizations. Even after sixteen years, Evelyn still mourned the loss of her son. Georgina would occasionally remind her that she did have a daughter, but the older woman ignored her as if she hadn’t spoken.

  She glanced around the barn that was reminiscent of a bygone era with strings of tiny white lights around the perimeter of the ceiling while gaslight-inspired chandeliers and hanging fixtures cast a warm, golden glow over round tables with seating for six. And in keeping with the theme of the time period of the early twentieth century, the glass, flatware and ornately carved mahogany bar added to the venue’s rustic ambiance. White-jacketed waitstaff circulated with trays of hors d’oeuvres and flutes of champagne. Georgina draped her shawl over the back of one of the chairs at table seven.

  “Georgi Powell, long time no see.”

  She turned to find Langston Cooper standing a few feet away, holding a glass with an amber liquid, the color an exact match for his eyes, grinning at her. The orbs in a light brown complexion reminded her of champagne diamonds. Her attention was drawn to the minute lines fanning out around the eyes of the man who wasn’t much older than she was. Langston had left Wickham Falls to attend college and had spent most of his career as a foreign journalist covering wars in Africa and the Middle East. She’d always thought of him as good-looking with his balanced features and a hint of a cleft in his strong chin, but there was something about Langston’s body language that communicated he was so tightly coiled that people had to walk on eggshells in his presence.

  “I could say the same about you,” she countered, smiling. “Are you here as a member or as a reporter for the paper?”

  * * *

  Langston’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Both. Well, as editor-in-chief of The Sentinel, I’m expected to attend this soiree. What I don’t remember is you coming last year.”

  “That’s because this is my first year.”

  To say he was surprised to see Georgina at the event did not match his shock in seeing her wearing something other than the smock that identified her as an employee of Powell’s Department Store. But then he had to remember she wasn’t an employee but the daughter of the owner. He knew staring was rude, yet he couldn’t pull his gaze away from her beautiful face with a subtle hint of makeup. However, it was the décolletage on the black halter gown that made it almost impossible for him not to stare at the soft swell of breasts each time she took a breath.

  Mixed-race Georgina had inherited the best physical attributes from her Scotch-Irish father and African American mother. She’d concealed the faint sprinkling of freckles with makeup that was perfect for her light brown complexion. The brown curly hair with glints of copper were missing, and in its place was a sleek hairstyle that made her appear quite the sophisticate. When he’d returned to Wickham Falls the year before to purchase the failing periodical and encountered Georgina, the first thing he’d noticed was she no longer had the noticeable gap between her front teeth. He had always thought her pretty, but tonight she was stunning!

  “Is there something I can get for you from the bar?”

  She glanced at the waiters with the bubbly wine. “I’ll have champagne. Meanwhile, I’m going to see what they’re serving at the carving station, because if I’m going to drink, then I need to eat something.”

  Langston pulled out the chair with her shawl. “Please sit and I’ll get you something to eat and your wine. How do you like your meat cooked?” He removed his suit jacket and placed it over the back of the chair next to hers.

  She sat, smiling up at him. “Medium-well. Thank you, sir.”

  He returned her smile. “You’re welcome, ma’am.”

  Langston approached a waiter. Reaching into the pocket of his suit trousers, he took out a money clip and handed the man a bill. “Can you please leave a couple of flutes at table seven?”

  The young man pocketed the money, nodding. “Of course. And thank you, sir.”

  He wended his way through th
e crowd to the carving station, chiding himself for not telling Georgina that she looked incredible but did not want to come on too strong, because he didn’t know if she was involved with someone. Just because she’d come unescorted, it did not translate into her being unencumbered. After all, she was a beautiful woman and heir to a successful business that had survived for decades despite the Great Depression and several recessions to remain viable.

  Langston expertly balanced plates along his arm, a skill he’d learned when waiting tables as a college student. When he’d asked the waiter to leave a couple of flutes at the table, he hadn’t meant a couple each for him and Georgina.

  She pointed to the quartet of glasses. “He must have assumed we were thirsty,” she teased.

  He set down small plates with thinly sliced roast beef and horseradish, pasta with a vodka sauce, prawns with an Asian-inspired dipping sauce, and filo tartlets filled with spicy cilantro shrimp. “I’m willing to bet we’ll need them because what I’ve selected for us definitely isn’t bland.”

  Unfolding her napkin, Georgina spread it over her lap. “Spicy is good.”

  Langston gave her a sidelong glance. “So you like it hot?”

  She nodded. “I enjoy a little heat,” she admitted, spreading a smidgen of horseradish on the roast beef. “Do you cook?”

  Her question caught him completely off guard. “I can. Why did you ask?”

  Georgina shrugged bare shoulders. “Just curious.”

  Langston waited for her to chew and swallow a mouthful of meat. “What else are you curious about?”

  “How is the paper doing since you took over?”

  He successfully concealed his disappointment because he’d expected her to ask him something more personal—perhaps why he had come without a date. “It’s taken a while, but we’ve managed to increase the circulation and advertising revenue.”

  “There was a time before you bought the paper that we thought it was going to fold. We’ve always relied on The Sentinel to advertise the store’s daily and weekly specials.”