Thank you to Marianne Aguiar for your amazing copyediting skills. I’m forever in awe of the details you all keep in your heads and help authors fine-tune!
Thanks to Katie Anderson for the beautiful design of this book, as well as Alison Cnockaert, whose design for the interior pages is an absolute dream. So many thanks to Leni Kauffman, whose gorgeous cover illustration captured Delilah and Claire so perfectly, I gasped when I first saw what she’d created. She’s so unbelievably talented and I’m so honored that this book features one of her creations.
Endless thanks to Talia Hibbert, Meryl Wilsner, Kosoko Jackson, Rachel Lynn Solomon, Karelia Stetz-Waters, Rosie Danan, and Lana Harper for their generous words. I’m such a fan of each one of you and so humbled and honored that you would read (and like!) Delilah’s story.
Thank you to Courtney Kae for your enthusiasm and all-around kindness. You’re a true champion of your peers and I can only hope to help you feel as confident in your work as you’ve made me feel in mine.
To Craig, Benjamin, and William, thank you for creating space for me to think, to create, and to be myself. You are my home and my respite, and my books would not be half of what they are without your support.
Finally, to you, dear reader, for reading, for sharing, for showing up. We’ve been through a hell of a time—I wrote this book during the pandemic because it made me happy. It gave me a purpose each morning. Now we’ve made it through (dear god, let it be true) the hardest of times, and I hope this book has also given you some happiness, some comfort, some laughs, and of course, some swoons.
Turn the page for a look at the next romantic comedy by Ashley Herring Blake
Astrid Parker
Doesn’t FaiL
Coming to Berkley fall 2022!
ASTRID PARKER LOOKED perfect.
Well, as perfect as she could look, which these days meant a lot of concealer smoothed over the purple half-moons that had taken up residence under her eyes. But other than that bit of smoke and mirrors, she was pristine.
She hurried down the sidewalk, the April morning light lengthening her shadow along the cobblestones of downtown Bright Falls, Oregon. She couldn’t believe the sun was out, warm on her pale skin, that she’d actually been able to leave her umbrella and galoshes at home in her front closet. This was the first rainless day they’d had in two weeks.
Born and raised in the Pacific Northwest, Astrid was used to the rain, used to gray and drizzle, but that the clouds deigned to part today of all days . . . well, it was encouraging, to say the least. Had Astrid actually believed in signs, she might’ve gotten a bit maudlin about the timing. Instead, she stopped in front of Wake Up Coffee Company and gazed at her reflection in the large picture window.
This morning, she’d woken up an hour earlier than she needed to and washed and blown out her hair, making sure she styled her recently trimmed blond fringe exactly the way Kelsey, her stylist, had shown her. The result was . . . well, it was perfect. Her wavy locks fell just past her shoulders, her bangs were shaggy and chic and shiny. Her makeup was minimal—concealer notwithstanding—and her jewelry understated and tasteful, just a pair of gold hoops swinging from her lobes.
Her dress was the real star, her favorite outfit and the most expensive thing she owned—she still didn’t dare tell her best friends, Iris and Claire, how much she paid for it last year after she and Spencer broke up. It was a necessary purchase. A power purchase, one to make her feel confident and beautiful. As she took in the ivory pencil dress now, sleeveless and midi length, her reflection confirmed it had been worth every penny. Paired with her favorite black strappy three-inch heels, even her mother couldn’t complain about the vision Astrid saw in the window right now. She was elegant and poised. Prepared.
Perfect.
Everything she should be for today’s meeting and first filming at the Everwood Inn. A wobbly smile settled onto her mouth as she thought about the historic inn, which was now hers to re-create. Well, not exactly hers. But when Pru Everwood, longtime owner of the nationally beloved Victorian, had called two weeks ago and said that she was ready to renovate—and that Natasha Rojas’s super chic HGTV show, Innside America, wanted to do an episode on the whole transformation—Astrid had nearly bitten her own tongue to keep from screaming with glee.
Glee and a good bit of terror, but that was just nerves, or so Astrid had been telling herself for the last fourteen days. Of course, she was excited. Of course, this was the opportunity of a lifetime.
The old mansion-turned-inn was a designer’s dream—three stories of intricate eaves and gables, a wide front porch, an exterior that was currently the color of cat vomit but would shine beautifully under some lovely pastel hue, lavender or maybe a cool mint. Inside, it was a maze of dark-paneled rooms and cobwebs, but Astrid could already envision how she would lighten and brighten, the shiplap and accent walls that would replace the cherry wood wainscoting, the transformation of the rotting back porch into a sun-drenched solarium.
There was no doubt: The Everwood Inn was a dream project.
And currently, it was her only project.
She sighed, pushing her recent financial woes to the back of her mind, including the fact that she recently had to let her assistant and her receptionist go because Astrid could no longer afford to pay them. Bright Designs was officially a one-woman show, so she didn’t have time for doubts, for inconsistency.
Since taking over Lindy Westbrook’s design business when the older woman had retired nine years ago, Astrid usually had the perfect amount of work to keep her busy and solvent. But lately, things had been slow . . . and boring. There were only so many design jobs to go around in a town as tiny as Bright Falls, Oregon, and if she worked on one more doctor-slash-lawyer-slash-real estate agent’s office, filling them with uncomfortable seating and abstract paintings, she was going to tear her own eyelashes out.
Not to mention, if she let Lindy’s business fail now, particularly after her disaster of a failed engagement last summer, Astrid’s mother would not only tear her eyelashes out for her, she’d make absolutely sure the entire town knew the professional deficiency was one hundred percent Astrid’s fault, bringing her personal shortcomings out from behind the family curtain.
Lately, this endearing quality of her mother’s had kicked into overdrive, Isabel’s lip literally curling whenever Astrid had a hair out of place or reached for a bagel. Astrid was exhausted, had slept like shit for months, and needed a very, very long vacation.
Or she just needed it to stop—all of it, every single sigh, lifted eyebrow, and pursed mouth her mother aimed in her direction. Surely, if anything would appease Isabel—maybe even draw out a proud hug or a glowing declaration like I had every faith in you, darling—it was appearing as the lead designer on a prestigious show and bringing the beloved Everwood into the modern age.
So Astrid very much needed the Everwood job. She needed the money and she needed the clout that being on Innside America would bring. The place was famous—there were countless books and shows and documentaries featuring the legend of the Blue Lady who purportedly haunted one of the upstairs bedrooms—and featuring on Innside America, the brainchild of the design world’s sweetheart, Natasha Rojas, could change everything for Astrid.