about my dress, my hair, the way I’m walking. She intimidates me.”
I clucked my tongue. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard similar worries. Brides worried about so many variables, but it was my job to take that worry away, and make sure that in the lead-up – and, more importantly, on the day – they enjoyed themselves, and felt like princesses. Otherwise what was the point?
“If you have your wedding at Cedarwood Lodge, we’ll do the worrying for you. We have expert hair and makeup teams, ones who usually do celebrities who can fly in from New York for the day. Your bridesmaids will walk ahead of you, and you’ll have your father, right? He won’t let you topple down the aisle. Trust me when I say, none of that will be in your mind when the music starts, and you see your fiancé waiting for you.”
She squeezed my hand. “Thank you. Clio. I suppose I have to remember it’s not a punishment. It’s meant to be one of the best days of my life.”
“It will be. You’ll see.”
“Hello there, pretty girl!” Aunt Bessie said. “Would you like to try some donuts?” Before waiting for an answer she pointed to a tray. “These are my Rudolf reindeers, filled with butterscotch custard and ganache. The antlers are made from dark chocolate, and the red noses are candy-cane flavored. Aren’t they the cutest things?”
Felicity took the proffered donut, and said, “Almost too cute to eat!”
Just then a voice bellowed, “Not on your life would I pay five thousand dollars for a photography package! Are you trying to rob us blind?” The same trio again! I donned a serene expression and hotfooted it to the photography stand where the poor photographer stood aghast.
“What’s the problem?” I asked, sweetly.
The girl turned to me, flipping her long mane of dark hair. “Your photographer is charging an exorbitant amount for a basic package, and it makes me wonder if the price is inflated for everything just because we’re using the W word!”
This kind of person was party suicide, so I motioned for Micah to bring champagne. Better to kill her with kindness even though she was out of line. “Tory is one of the most sought-after photographers in New York, and we’re very lucky he even agreed to visit us today.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I guess he’s tacking his holiday bill onto our wedding packages.”
Tory glared at her and said, “The package I quoted was including drone footage by the lake, and a variety of additions – definitely not the basic wedding package.”
She blushed but rallied, “Still, it’s a lot of money for a wedding in a hokey place.”
“Right,” I said, pretending to consider it. “Who just booked you for their wedding next year, Tory? Was it Hadley?”
“It was. But she obviously went for all the bells and whistles for her big day.”
“Of course, you can’t put a price on memories like those.”
“They last a lifetime,” he grinned.
“Hadley booked you?” Her voice was incredulous. “As in the singer?”
“I can’t divulge the personal details of my clients.” He pursed his lips.
She squirmed but tried to adopt a haughty expression. “Can I see those packages again? Like you said, you can’t put a price on memories.”
I left them to it, smothering a smile, fairly sure Hadley was the receptionist in the office next door to Tory’s studio…
A few hours into the expo, the girls were pink-cheeked and grinning from excitement and perhaps a few extra glasses of champagne. Somehow the quiet, shy Felicity had convinced Amory to try on one of the couture wedding gowns so they could see it objectively. Always up for a challenge when it came to business, Amory had happily obliged, and I wondered what she secretly thought about wearing such a gown. For someone adamant they were never walking down the aisle, would it make her think twice, wearing something so fabulous, so utterly made just for one day… When she swanned out in it her expression was unreadable but her color high, and she made the most magnificent bride. Just then Cruz walked in, and his face said it all. For a split second, he brightened, his mouth parting in surprise, as if he’d never seen anyone so lovely. When Amory noticed him, she blushed, fumbling with the dress. Something had passed between them, a fleeting glimpse of what might be?
By nightfall most of our brides had left satiated after such a big day. Isla had impressed everyone with the range of outdoor activities, and our dance teacher, who was easy on the eye, had been a hit too.
We had one definite booking – Barbie in February – and a tentative yes from Ebony for the summer, but first she’d bring her family to the lodge for a second opinion. Micah and Isla had helped Aunt Bessie load up her car with supplies we’d borrowed and were meeting her in Evergreen to help unpack. Cruz was wiping down the kitchen benches, his chef whites no longer pristine, but a satisfied smile firmly in place.
I flopped down at the bench and said, “Do you want any help, Cruz?” I prayed he’d say no since my feet were on fire from wearing heels all day. I must have climbed the staircase twenty times, showing brides the honeymoon suite.
“I’d love a glass of wine,” he said.
I lifted a finger. “No! Champagne for all!”
“Did I hear someone say champagne?” Amory took some flutes from the cupboard and went to the fridge, taking a bottle and expertly popping the cork with zero ceremony. I had to laugh. In times of crisis, or fatigue, she was a guzzler, and an expensive price tag meant little.
“You’re a girl after my own heart,” I said, clinking glasses with her and Cruz. “Thank you for today, both of you, I don’t want you to ever leave! Can’t we pretend there’s no New York, and this is home?”
They exchanged a glance with each other. It was loaded with meaning, but of what, I didn’t know. “Let’s cheers to that,” Amory said.
“Cruz, you were in your element! I thought chefs were usually grumpy under pressure, more sovereign-like, barking orders or some such.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “I used to work under a chef like that and it was almost impossible not to laugh when he had one of his rages. I couldn’t take him seriously when he was heart-attack red and frothing at the mouth. Instead of fixing the problem he’d have a conniption that lasted twenty minutes – which of course delayed us even more… It was insane.”
“How depressing,” Amory joked. “I was hoping to see you throw some pots and pans around – you know, christen the kitchen a bit?”
“There’s still time,” he said, his eyes twinkling. Was it a possibility he’d stay and take up the chef position at Cedarwood? It would be too good to be true, having my best friend and her partner here for good. But maybe out of the city they could sort through their differences… I sent up a fervent wish to the universe to make it so.
“And our beautiful brides! Weren’t they amazing?” Amory said.
I took a big sip of champagne, bubbles bursting on my nose like little kisses. “They were, even what-was-her-name with the black hair?”
Amory
