Through A Magnolia Filter

“If you want to leave Savannah.”

Dolley sure did. She wanted to quit her job as website designer at Jackson Promotions and travel the world.

But she couldn’t. Her family’s bed-and-breakfast was a golden shackle around her ankle, chaining her, the invisible sister, to Savannah.

Dolley let Anne complain, nodding and humming in the right spots, but not really listening. Anne had at least spent a semester studying abroad. The farthest Dolley had gotten was a long weekend in New York City to visit her older sister.

The server hustled over with chips and salsa. “Boss says whatever you want is on the house.”

Dolley rubbed her hands together and looked at Anne. “Appetizers?”

“Most excellent idea.” Anne nodded.

They ordered wings, fried zucchini and mozzarella sticks. That ought to cover dinner.

“No more work talk.” Dolley held up her drink.

Anne sighed. “I’m in the mood to bitch.”

“Nope. How was your date last weekend?” Dolley asked.

Anne pouted. “I thought you didn’t want me bitching.”

Dolley laughed. “I told you he wasn’t right for you.”

“You were right.” Anne waved her hand around the patio. “Pick someone.”

Dolley scanned the tables, lingering on a group of men gathered near the patio bar. “Nothing yet. I’ll keep my eyes open.”

“How was your date with Robert?” Anne asked.

Dolley grinned. “Apparently a lot better than yours.”

Anne grabbed her hand. “You slept with him? Tell all.”

“This was only date three.” Dolley shook her head. She’d learned to wait, hoping any man who made it to date four saw her as more than just a computer help desk or a friend with benefits.

“What did you do?”

Dolley tapped her fingers on the tabletop. “I helped him with some computer stuff.”

“That’s not a date.” Anne wrinkled her nose. “That’s work.”

“We were supposed to go to a movie, but he was having trouble loading his students’ artwork to the school’s website.”

“Right.” Anne’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “How do these guys find you?”

“Robert’s not like the others.”

Anne pointed her finger. “You did his work for him.”

“So we could have more time together. Besides, he bought dinner.”

“Let me guess—pizza?”

“I picked the toppings,” Dolley protested.

Anne shook her head. “Didn’t you learn anything from that guy who had you clear the viruses from his computer?”

“John.” Dolley rolled her shoulder. “Never date a guy who spends that much time on porn sites.”

“And there was that other idiot. You built his website—for free.”

“He wasn’t an idiot.” Dolley had been the idiot. “He was an attorney. Gordon.”

“A cheap one—who didn’t pay for the work you did.”

“They all wanted to stay friends,” Dolley said.

“So they could use you again.” Anne snorted.

“Robert’s not like that. I volunteered to help him.”

Anne leaned forward. “Has he called you since you helped him?”

“No.” Dolley chewed her lip. “But he had tests to grade.”

“Right. He teaches at SCAD.” Anne sipped her drink. “Too bad we didn’t have teachers that cute when we went to school.”

She and Anne had met while attending Savannah College of Art and Design. “You might have studied harder.”

Their food arrived, and they dug in, keeping the conversation light.

“Dolley?” a male voice called.

She turned and spotted a familiar face. “Connor?”

Connor’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her out of her chair. “I haven’t seen you in years.”

She hugged him back. “How are you?”

“Good. Great.” Connor pulled away and tugged on her hair. “You look the same. I would have known your mop of red curls anywhere.”

She brushed an offending hank of hair off her face. “Was that a compliment?”

“Absolutely.” He slung an arm around her shoulder and turned to face their table.

“I haven’t seen you before.” Anne set down her drink and smiled. “Are you an old friend of Dolley’s?”

Connor rubbed his knuckles on the top of her head. “We endured high school Advanced Chemistry together. If she hadn’t helped me with my homework, I might have blown my scholarship chances.”

“We got each other through the course.” She elbowed him so he’d stop rubbing her head. “We were the only juniors in the class. The seniors refused to talk to us.”

“The guys always talked to you. You had the textbook memorized.”

Dolley winced. She had a great memory. “What are you doing back in town?” she asked.

“Home for my mom’s birthday weekend. I’m meeting my brother for a beer.” He glanced around. “As usual, he’s late.”

“Do you want to join us until he comes?” Anne smiled.

“Sure.” Connor gave Dolley’s shoulders a squeeze.

Anne kicked Dolley under the table and tilted her head toward Connor.

Dolley shook her head. Connor wasn’t right for Anne. Besides, she’d had a massive crush on him in high school.

All he’d wanted was help in chemistry.

Connor talked about his job while Anne hung on every word.

“You really stayed with chemistry?” Dolley asked.

“Biochemistry. I work up in the triangle.”

Anne frowned. “The Bermuda triangle?”

Connor leaned in to Anne, laughing. “The Research Triangle Park in North Carolina. I live in Raleigh.”

Anne still looked puzzled, so he explained, leaning even closer.

Her friend wasn’t stupid. Dolley expected Anne had heard about the biotech park. Maybe she should leave them alone. “I’ll be right back.”

Heading to the bathroom, she greeted a couple of the locals, waving and smiling.

She spotted a blond at the indoor bar. Her heart picked up a couple of beats. Robert was here.

Hurrying over, she wrapped a hand around his waist. “Hey, handsome.”

Robert whipped around. His eyes widened. “Dolley?”

“I had fun last weekend.” She gave his belly a little poke. “You must have gotten all the tests graded by now.”

His face went blank. “What tests?”

Her shoulders tightened. “You said you had tests to grade.”

“Right. Yes. Lots of tests.” His gaze darted around the room. “I’m taking a break.”

“So you had time to stop in for a drink—” she let out a deep breath “—but didn’t call me?”

“Like I said before—it’s the tests.” His eyes avoided her gaze. “I needed to get grades in.”

Dread settled like a weight on her shoulders. “Did you even give a test this week?”

He finally looked her in the eye. He held up his hands and then let them fall to his thighs with a slap. “A short quiz.”

“A quiz.” The appetizers she’d eaten churned in her stomach.

Based on the way Robert shifted back and forth, she wasn’t dating him again. “Got it.” She turned to go. “I...”

“Dolley.” He grabbed her arm. “We had fun. I appreciate your help last weekend.”

She glared at his hand on her arm until he let her go.

“Were you even interested in me?” she asked. “Or did you endure two dates just to get computer help?”

“Dolley, no.” He caught her hand. “Can we still be...friends?”

She had to get away. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m sorry.” Robert, the jerk, looked relieved.

She stepped backward, then hurried into the hallway.

Why did this always happen to her?

That’s it. She was taking a dating break.

Her phone rang as she exited the bathroom. Unknown number. What now? She answered.

“Is this Dolley Fitzgerald?”

“Yes.”

“Congratulations. This is Bridal Party Today. Your photograph won first place in the amateur division of our contest.”

Her heart pounded. “It won?”

“It sure did.”

“My photograph.” She’d entered a picture she’d taken at Mamma’s wedding. She shook her head. “Me?”

“If you’re Dolley Fitzgerald.” The woman on the other end of the call chuckled. “Your picture will be included in our January magazine. I’ll send you interview questions for the article.”

“Sure. Sure.” After confirming her email address, Dolley hung up.

A photograph she’d taken had won. The first contest she’d ever entered. And it was a picture of Mamma dancing with Martin, her groom, at their wedding. Dolley couldn’t stop the grin filling her face. She’d won. Punching the air, she spun in the hallway. Who cared about Robert now?

She rushed out to tell Anne.

Connor and Anne had their heads tucked together. Connor’s younger brother occupied the empty chair at the table.

Her enthusiasm vanished. They wouldn’t understand her excitement. They weren’t the youngest sister of two exceptional siblings. They wouldn’t understand her need to prove herself.

Dolley straightened her shoulders. Spotting an empty chair, she dragged it over to the table. “Hey, Jason. Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Hi, Dolley. Connor said you were here.” Jason grinned. “How’s my favorite babysitter?”

Lord, she’d babysat Jason. “Apparently old. Are you sure you can drink?”

He flipped out his license. “Legal and everything.”

She forced a smile on her face. This wasn’t the time or place to tell people about her silly contest win. She’d get a copy of the magazine, leave it at the B and B and see if anyone read the article. No one would guess a photography career was her secret dream.

* * *

LIAM CLOSED THE folder on the Fitzgeralds and pushed away from the small desk in his room at the inn. He still hadn’t escaped Kilkee.

Seamus’s long-lost relatives and their location sounded too good to be true. A mother who had started the business and three daughters who ran it now. His godfather had collected enough Savannah travel information that Liam wanted to book a flight tomorrow. Did families like this really exist?

All this reading about family had his muscles tightening. He should walk around town to work off this...anxiousness. Maybe grab one of his godfather’s cameras and head to the bay. He never tired of taking pictures of the sunset on the sea.

Instead, he sat, rolled his shoulders and scrolled through the Fitzgerald and Carleton House bed-and-breakfast website. Someone had a nice hand with the photographs. Dolley Fitzgerald.

He flipped open the file to the picture of the Fitzgeralds and wondered which one she was. Their Irish heritage was evident in their fair skin and red hair. Would they care about letters written years ago?

He checked out pictures of Savannah’s St. Patrick’s Day parade. Clicked on a few links. Savannahians celebrated their Irish roots. And this small city had the second largest St. Patrick’s Day parade in America. Why?

He kept clicking. Found a documentary on the Irish building railroads in Georgia, found other sites touting the Irish regiments in their civil war. Well, his country, too. His father had been an American. Seamus had scorned his dual citizenship. Which made this mission to deliver letters even more puzzling.

But the idea of researching Savannah’s Irish roots...took hold. Dug in. He could stay at the Fitzgerald’s B and B and work in Savannah. Pretend he was part of their family for a time.

Once he finished the voice-overs for his Irish Travellers documentary, he needed a new project. Americans were fascinated with their Irish heritage. Why not create a story around the Irish in Savannah?

He kept searching and didn’t come up for air for an hour. “This might work.”

He could deliver the letters, but he would also get a new project out of the task.

He checked the time. His producer should be in her sleek New York office. When her brisk voice came over his mobile, he leaned back.

“Hallo, Barbara.”

“Liam,” she said. “I’m so sorry about your godfather. How was the funeral?”

“Small.” He cut off any additional sympathy.

“It would still hurt to lose the man who brought you up.” She took a breath. “I’m not pushing, but when do you think you’ll be back in the studio?”

He was done here. “I’ll complete the voice-overs next week.”

“Great.”

Liam stared out at Kilkee Bay. The waves were gentle this evening. So different from the racket in his head. He smiled. “I have a proposal for my next project.”

CHAPTER TWO

The single most important component of a camera is the twelve inches behind it.

Ansel Adams

“FITZGERALD HOUSE,” DOLLEY SAID.

“I’m hoping to book a long term stay.” The man on the phone had a delicious Irish accent. “I tried to book online, but wasn’t successful.”

“I can certainly help you.” Dolley closed her eyes. Yum. She could listen to this man’s voice for hours. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she logged in to the reservation system. “When will you arrive?”

“December fifteenth through...the twenty-fifth of March.”

A three-and-a-half month stay? Dolley bit her lip, afraid she’d blurt out hot damn. She loved being the sister who caught these calls. She searched for available rooms, then it hit her. “Oh, dear. We close the week between Christmas and New Year’s.”

“You’re closed?” Papers rustled on the line. “Is there any way I could...incentivize you to let me stay?”

A three-and-a-half month reservation was a pretty big incentive, especially since Carleton House was opening next year. “How many people in your party?” she asked, trying to stall while she figured out what to do.

“Just me until mid-February. Then I’ll bring in my film crew.”

“Film crew?” This guy was in the movies? “How many rooms would you need?”

“Three more, beginning, let’s say, February 20 through March 25.”

If she was a swooning woman, she’d be dropping to the floor. What a perfect way to open Carleton House.

But they weren’t open over Christmas.

After Mamma opened the B and B, she’d always insisted they celebrate Christmas as a family. Dolley drummed her fingers on the desktop. Just last week, she and her sisters had agreed to stick with Mamma’s tradition.

But this was a three-and-a-half month reservation. With more rooms starting in February. Dolley shook her head. This booking was not going to a competitor.

Maybe Abby would make an exception. Bess, their other sister, would agree with Abby.

“I’ll talk with my partners, but I think we can work something out. It might not include breakfast, afternoon tea or wine tasting during the week we’re closed. Would that be a problem?”

“Hmm. Would I be able to eat elsewhere?”

“Absolutely.” She’d personally create a list of open restaurants for him. “I’d be happy to set up reservations for you and your party during the holidays.”

The grandfather clock at the end of the foyer ticked like a slow metronome, filling the long silence.

“I’ll be alone.” His tone was soulful, like he didn’t have anyone in the world.

No family during Christmas? Now she definitely had to convince Abby to make an exception.

“Let me get your information.”

She wrote everything down. Liam Delaney. Even his name was drool-worthy. “After I check with my partners, I’ll call you back.”

Dolley danced down the hallway to the kitchen, pushing through the swinging door. Abby handled all the breakfasts, teas and appetizers offered by the B and B. Eighty percent of the time she could find her sister baking or cooking.

She was in luck. Abby stood next to the counter on her phone.

“Dolley walked in.” Abby waved her closer. “She’ll know.”

Dolley moved to the counter.

Her sister pushed the speaker button and set the phone down. “Mamma wants to know how many more beds we need for Carleton House.”

“Hey, Mamma.” Dolley rested her head on her hand.

“Hi, sweetie. Aunt CeCe and I have been having fun hitting antique stores and estate sales. We found some great Victorian bed frames and one tester, but I couldn’t remember how many more beds we need. Also, are we still looking for lamps?”

The smile in Mamma’s voice had Dolley grinning. Her newlywed mother sounded so excited. “Great-Aunt CeCe is shopping with you?”

“Her arthritis is better in the morning. We’ve gotten in the habit of hitting the stores early.” Mamma lowered her voice. “She loves feeling useful and spending money. If she could, she’d shop all day.”

“Let me think.” Dolley closed her eyes and pictured the inventory spreadsheet on her computer. She’d updated it last week. “Six more beds. Bess added a request for four small bookcases for the upstairs parlors. Two pairs.”

“We did find bookcases.” Mamma’s voice brimmed with energy. “Aunt CeCe, were those bookcases in pairs?”

There was a quiet conversation between Mamma and Cece.

“We’ll go back to that store and put the bookcases on hold. We think there was at least one matching pair. And lamps?”

Dolley scrolled down the spreadsheet in her mind. “We need a dozen table lamps and we’d take floor lamps, too.”

“Good. There was an estate sale today that had wonderful lamps. We put holds on the nice ones. I’ll take pictures and send them to you. Love to all.”

Abby ended the call. She and Dolley looked at each other and laughed.

“I’m glad Mamma volunteered, or we’d be running all over Georgia and the Carolinas looking for furniture,” Abby said.

“It sounds like Aunt CeCe’s having a great time, too.” Dolley spotted a tray of sweets. “Anything to eat in here?”

Abby waved at the counter. “Leftovers from tea.”

Dolley snapped up a sandwich and grabbed a plate off the stack. Deviled ham? Worked for her. Anything her sister made was delicious. She could chew and mull over how to approach Abby.

Abby stood in front of an open fridge with the inventory list Dolley had designed for her. “Did you need something?”

“I stopped in to say hello to the Scrapbooking Sister group I booked.” Dolley dusted the crumbs off her fingers and took a deep breath. “What do you think about another long-term stay?”

Abby wiggled her fingers, engagement ring sparkling. “I sure liked the last one.”

“Yeah, yeah. You got a fiancé out of it.” Dolley moved to the coffeepot and poured a mug. “He’s not asking for dinner, so I don’t think Gray has to worry you’ll fall for another man.”

Abby bumped her shoulder and took a sip of Dolley’s coffee. Her sister’s gaze softened. “Gray never has to worry about that.”

Dolley rolled her eyes. Her sister and Gray were in love. Sickeningly so. She was happy for her sister, but why couldn’t she find her own guy?

“Back to business.” Dolley snapped her fingers in front of Abby’s silly smile. “Three-and-a-half months. He hasn’t asked for a discount. And he’ll need three more rooms starting February 20 until March 25.”

“Four rooms.” Abby straightened. “I say yes. Absolutely.”

“So do I.” Dolley took back her coffee. “It would include the week of Christmas.”

“Christmas?” Abby’s shoulders sank. “We’re closed.”

“I told him. He’s willing to work something out and just wants to make sure he can get meals someplace.”

Abby paced to the sitting area. “One person, or is he bringing someone else?”

“Just him.” Dolley sighed. “The poor man says he’ll be alone during the holidays.”

“Alone during Christmas?” Abby jerked around to look at her.

Dolley nodded.

Her sister twisted her ring. “We agreed to keep our Christmas break just last week.”

“I know.”

“Is there something unusual about him?” Abby pointed a finger at her. “Did you Google him?”

“No.” But she would. She wanted to know about Mr. Liam Delaney of the sexy voice. “He just said he’d be alone.”

She sighed again, trying to tug on Abby’s tender heart. “How sad not to have a place to go during the holidays. I’m so lucky to work with my sisters and have Mamma within spitting distance.”

“Of course we’ll take him.” Abby took Dolley’s hand. “And he’ll have his breakfast, too. For the week we’re closed, he can eat in the kitchen like Gray did.”

“You’re so good-hearted.” Dolley brushed a kiss on Abby’s cheek. “I’ll call him back.”

Abby frowned. “Did you just play me?”

Dolley snagged one more sandwich. “Never.”

Abby’s eyes narrowed. “Just for that, you tell Bess.”

“Will do.” Dolley grinned. She wasn’t looking forward to shoehorning a massive reservation into their clunky booking system. But at least she could listen to Liam Delaney’s gorgeous accent again.

* * *

LIAM TAPPED THE floor with his foot. He knew he would get the go ahead. He had to.

But he’d had project ideas shot down before.

So here he was...waiting...and worrying. The idea of this Savannah documentary had grabbed hold and wouldn’t let go.

During the week Barbara was taking his idea for final approval, he’d stopped in New York. Something he’d never done before.

Liam stared out at the silver forest of buildings flanked by turbulent skies. December snowflakes floated through the air, waiting to drop and join the gray slush blanketing New York City. Even standing in his producer’s office, he couldn’t clear the petrol smell from his nose. In Kilkee, at least he’d been able to smell the bay.

He paced from the window to the door. And back again. His anxiousness wasn’t normal.

The office door burst open. Barbara called out, “I’ve got your approval.”

He let out a sigh, sinking into a chair. “I knew you could do it.”

Barbara tossed a red cardigan on her desk. Big red flowers covered her black dress.

“I might have promised them my firstborn.” Her black hair swung around her chin. “I didn’t tell them he was turning thirteen.”

He shook his head in mock horror. She doted on her son, David.

“Can I pick my crew?” he asked.

“You’ve got Jerry. I’m working on the rest.” She leaned against her desk. “Legal revised the consent form we want you to use.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “Again?”

“Yes.” Barbara slipped around her desk and slid into her chair. “Make sure to grab copies from Samantha.”

“Lovely.” He hated explaining that people were signing away their rights—forever. “I’d like to take a portable video camera with me.”

“Talk to Samantha.” Barbara fingered the stack of pink phone slips. “Are we still on for lunch with Toni and Mark?”

“Yes, they confirmed.” His agent and manager had both approved the contracts, pending project approval.

He paced in front of the window. This was happening. He had his excuse to head to Savannah.

“You’re pushing hard on this one.” Barbara tipped her head. “Why?”

“The place I’ll stay in Savannah is run by the Fitzgerald family.”

“FitzGerald. Like your godfather?”

“Yes.” Returning to her guest chair, he tapped his fingers on the wooden back. “The only way I could get my hands on Seamus’s cameras was to agree to take some letters to them.”

She frowned, leaning back in her chair. “Is this why you suggested this documentary?”

“Not originally.” Liam stuck his hands in his pockets. “But when I checked the sisters and Savannah out, I was intrigued.”

“Sisters?” His producer raised her eyebrows. “How pretty are they?”

“Not in that way.” Although Dolley’s face was...engaging. He’d toyed with the idea of including her family in the documentary, but didn’t know how the story would unfold or if they would fit his premise. “What did you think of the title, Savannah’s Irish Roots?”

She smiled and nodded. “We’ll test it.”

That was the best he could ask for. “Good.”

“Since you’re this side of the pond, why don’t you spend Christmas with us?” Barbara asked.

“I’d rather be in Savannah than up here in the cold.” He shivered.

Barbara shook her head. “You shouldn’t spend Christmas alone.”

“Holidays don’t mean much to me.” He couldn’t let them. “Even when I was in boarding school, Seamus usually left me there.”

“The old scrooge.” Her tone was incensed. “You deserved better.”

“I survived.” He crossed his legs. He’d learned how to fit in and ingratiate himself with the other students. “School chums invited me home for the holidays.”