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and furiously began to wipe the stuff from the violin’s fingerboard. Thank God it hadn’t landed on the violin’s body. Almost anything could damage the varnish, and the sound of the instrument was all in the varnish. Dammit. The Holstein violin was her most prized possession. It had cost thousands of dollars, which she’d saved out of her gig money over the years.

People were starting to laugh. She turned to find them pointing at the fountain and her. She looked down. She had brown stuff all over herself. The dress was a total loss, although she hadn’t spent all that much money on it, so there was at least a small silver lining to this disaster.

She wanted to slink away from the demented fountain, especially after what Mom had said about her being in charge of everything. She’d get blamed for this disaster. She was certain of it.

She looked across the room. Dylan was standing with that woman. Holy hell, had she orchestrated this?

Sudden rage filled her. The woman had been standing across the room talking a mile a minute to Dylan. Had she been waiting for this to happen? She was smirking at Ella like the cat who’d swallowed the canary.

She wanted to scream at the woman for coming in here and messing everything up. But screaming wouldn’t fix the violin or her performance or the party, for that matter. She had to remain calm and figure out how to turn the fountain off. But even before that, she needed to get the alcohol wipes and cleaning cloths in her violin case and tend to her fiddle.

She turned away from the crowd, trying to swallow back her anger when, like some miracle, Dylan materialized at her elbow with a stack of napkins. He handed them over to her before turning around and yelling, “Someone find the staff from A Night to Remember and get that thing turned off.”

“The violin’s a mess,” she said, her voice as tiny as Granny’s. She was on the verge of tears. She clutched the instrument tighter. “And look at me. I’m not much better.”

“You’re beautiful.” He picked up her left hand and began wiping away the brown goop. He got most of it off her fingers, turned her hand palm up, and found a little glob on the inside of her wrist. Instead of wiping it away with the cloth, he leaned down and gently licked it off with his tongue.

The touch sent shivers through her, making her momentarily forget about the violin’s screwed-up fingerboard. A little hum escaped her throat, and she was about to melt into a big, sloppy puddle when Mom showed up looking pissed off.

She snatched her hand away. Had Mom seen him licking her wrist? Oh god, could this night get any worse?

“Oh my god, what have you done?” Mom turned on Dylan, evidently too distressed by the horrific scene of brown goo tumbling out of the fountain’s top like a poop machine to have noticed Dylan’s tongue on her wrist.

Dylan turned to stare at Mom, his face a study in cool determination. Jim had told him to stay away from Mom, and Ella hoped to hell he remembered that. But just in case he’d forgotten, she stepped between them. “Mom, the fountain isn’t Dylan’s fault.”

“No?” Mom seemed unconvinced.

Just then, Diane from A Night to Remember showed up and turned the fountain off. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her cheeks turning pink. “We’ll give you a full refund and pay for any damage. This usually only happens when water gets into the fountain. Water and chocolate don’t mix, I’m afraid.”

“Who would do such a thing?” Mom turned toward Dylan with an unfriendly glare.

“Oh my God,” Ella said, “I think I know what happened.”

“He did it, didn’t he? Or maybe that Tammy woman.”

Ella shook her head. “No. I think this was an accident. Jackie’s been hanging around the fountain all evening. How much do you want to bet he spilled some of his soda into the fountain? So really, you know, it’s my fault for insisting that he be added to the invitation list.”

 â€śAre you all right?” Mom asked.

“I’m fine, but the violin’s a mess.”

Mom eyed the goop clinging to the instrument’s fingerboard. “We need to get that cleaned right away before it dries.” Ella followed Mom into the big stateroom where she and Dylan had kissed that one time, and where she’d left her violin case. “You go into the bathroom and clean yourself up. I’ll take care of the violin,” Mom said.

“Please don’t blame Dylan for the fountain.”

“Okay, but what about that Tammy woman?”

“I don’t think Dylan knew about her either. Please. Be nice to him.”

Mom blinked and then frowned. “What is this? Have you had a change of heart? You’ve come to his defense a couple of times tonight. When near as I can see, he left most of the work to you.”

“He didn’t, Mom. We did this together. And yes, I’ve decided that he’s okay. And, besides, we’re all one big family, right? We should soldier on as if nothing happened, okay?”

“You’re a better woman than I am,” she said, taking the violin from Ella’s hands. “I’d like to turn Dylan over my knee and give him a much-needed spanking.”

“Please don’t spank him. Even figuratively. Please try to get along with him, okay?” Ella said, then scooted into the tiny bathroom, thinking that spanking Dylan sounded like surprisingly kinky fun.

Oh boy, inappropriate thought alert. But she’d never get it out of her mind now.  She was thoroughly wicked.

Or maybe on the brink of falling in love with him.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Brenda’s heart fluttered in her chest as she waved goodbye to the last of the guests. The corners of her mouth ached because she’d been fake-smiling since the moment Tammy Hansen set foot on the yacht. That woman was poison.

Thank goodness she had decided not to have a big reception on her wedding day because she didn’t need another party where she discovered that Jim had an

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