As opposed to, say, dating an Amish carpenter. Sure, his fields were full of fireflies and his eyes shone a color blue so iridescent they could only be truly appreciated by hummingbirds. Still, he wasn’t likely to return her call.

Slinging her backpack over one shoulder, she curled her lips in a smile. “You got yourself a deal.”

****

Early that evening, the landline rang, echoing down the upstairs hallway to the bathroom. Didn’t anyone in this town text? Neck deep in a steaming soak, Tessa stretched long and flinched. Those nasty welts hurt like the dickens. Ignoring the phone, she nestled into the fluffy towel draped over the edge of the tub. Vanilla-scented candles lined the windowsill, wafting a delicious aroma. After this roller coaster of a day, she deserved some pampering.

She could still feel Richard’s touch on her thigh—still smell his sunscreen. How could the guy possibly be single? He was such a catch. But, according to a five-year-old with reliable sources, he was. Even more astounding was the fact he wanted to see her again. Wonders never cease, as her nana used to say.

The answering machine whirred into action.

“Tessa, honey, I’m calling with a question.”

She cringed. Hearing Mrs. Diefenderfer’s voice when she was in the bath made her skin crawl.

“Claire and I thought you did such a wonderful job with the celebrity auction—”

Uh oh.

“—that we’re just dying for you to work on our Midsummer Ball.”

Grabbing the sides of the tub, she yanked herself upright. She hadn’t thought about the Midsummer Ball in years. The ball was the only formal event her parents attended regularly and possibly the only one of its kind for miles around. As a child, she loved to sit on their bed and watch them get ready. Usually sporting a batter-streaked apron and jeans, her mother became Cinderella in a flowing gown and sparkly earrings that dripped down the sides of her neck like jeweled waterfalls. Her otherwise tweedy father tugged at the collar of his “monkey suit,” but he was always willing to go because her mother enjoyed it so much. Tessa had never attended. The Midsummer Ball was a grown-up affair.

“Claire’s just crossing her fingers you’ll co-chair the event,” Mrs. Diefenderfer went on.

Blinking bathwater from her eyes, she looped an elbow over the tub. Co-chair the ball? With Claire? Though terrifying, the proposition almost sounded fun.

“I know it seems like a lot of work, but co-chairing isn’t nearly so much trouble as doing it alone. We’ve hosted balls so many years now they almost plan themselves. The nuts and bolts are already in motion—save the date cards went out ages ago. Just the fun stuff is left to be arranged.”

Vaulting from the tub, she wrapped herself in a towel and dashed down the hall, feet spattering on the hardwood floor. What in the world was she doing?