Beckett nodded at the trays. “Does Julia have you doing deliveries now?”
Rob grinned. “She and the baby are directing everyone from home for another few days. It was all I could get her to commit to before she comes back to work.”
“Three kids under five,” Beckett shook his head. “You two are super heroes.”
“Or insane,” Rob shrugged happily. “What’s new with you? How was your trip?”
Beckett’s response was cut off by town councilwoman Dr. Donna Delveccio. Donna’s entrepreneurial parents had raised three equally enterprising children. All told, the family owned and operated Blue Moon’s dry-cleaning business, medical supply store, and Delveccio Dental.
“Let’s get this show on the road, Beckett,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “There’s a mini turkey club in there with my name on it and I’ve got a cavity filling at one.”
“Do we have a yoga studio owner somewhere around here?” Beckett asked, scanning the crowd.
Dr. Donna shrugged. “Maybe she’s inside?”
“I’ll see if I can find her and get you your turkey club,” he told her. “Why don’t you organize everyone and I’ll be right back?”
He made a move toward the studio’s glass door and turned back. “What’s her name?” he asked Donna.
“Gianna Decker.”
Beckett entered the studio, noting that the painting supplies from last night had been cleaned up. A long buffet table, laden with sandwiches, snacks, and mini smoothies, was set up in front of the windows.
At the back of the room, the door to a second, smaller studio was open. It was empty. But down the narrow hallway he noticed one of the restroom doors was closed. She must be in there. He decided to give her another minute or two when he heard the doorknob rattle.
“Is anyone out there?” called a muffled voice.
He hurried down the hall and arrived at the door in time to hear her groan.
“Seriously? Of all days,” the voice said woefully. The handle jiggled again, harder this time. A swift thump replaced the jiggling. “I really don’t like you right now, door!”
Beckett knocked and heard the yelp on the other side of the wood. “Are you stuck?” he asked.
“Oh my God! Yes, please help. The lock must be broken and I have to get outside. Everyone’s waiting.”
Beckett tried the handle on his side. “Definitely stuck,” he assessed.
“Gee, you think?” she asked dryly.
“Doors don’t block sarcasm,” he reminded her.
“Right. Sorry. I’m just flustered. Can you get me out of here?”
“No. I think you have to stay in there forever.”
“Doors don’t block sarcasm, you know.”
Beckett laughed. “Sorry. Couldn’t help it. I can get you out.” He reached into his pocket and grabbed the ever-present multi-tool his father had given him. “I’m going to take the screws out of the handle on this side, okay?”
“Oh, good. I was afraid you were going to kick the door down.”
“We’ll save that as a last resort,” he promised.
Beckett made quick work of the screws and popped the handle off of his side. He heard the thunk of the interior handle hitting the floor. With his index finger, he pushed the striker release and the door swung open.
She was sitting on the vanity, her bare feet dangling, peeking through the folds of her long skirt. The grin she gave him lit up the bathroom like fireworks in the night sky. Sliding off the countertop, she launched herself into his arms. He caught her purely on instinct and his eyes widened as her full, soft lips landed on his.
There was nothing carnal about the kiss, he thought as she pulled back and slid to the floor. But it still affected him.
“Do you always kiss complete strangers?” he demanded gruffly.
Her wide green eyes sparkled. “I do when they rescue me from considerable amounts of embarrassment and life in restroom prison. I was just debating whether or not the hand soap in here was edible.”
She looked like a fairy. Delicate and small, her ivory skin was dotted with a smattering of freckles. She wore her long red hair loose, cascading down her back. Her snug long sleeve shirt showed off a compact, curvy body.
“Now if you’ll excuse me. I need to go cut a ribbon,” she announced, patting his arm as she stepped around him.
“You can’t get started without me,” he said, following her down the hall and into the studio.
She whirled around, her skirt billowing around her legs. “Don’t tell me,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Beckett Pierce.”
“At your service, it appears,” he said, with a mock bow.
“Well, isn’t that interesting?” She smiled again, looking him over from head to toe. “Very interesting.” Gianna turned her back on him again and slipped out the front door leaving him frowning after her.
Back outside, Beckett found that Donna had organized everyone into the appropriate positions and the ceremonial tie-dye ribbon was stretched taut in front of the door.
Elvira handed the comically large scissors to him.