by Leigh Duncan
“How awful for you.” Jenny made the expected, sympathetic noises even though, for someone of Karolyn’s stature, spending time on location wasn’t exactly a hardship. Her cousin’s fully stocked and air-conditioned trailer was the size of a Greyhound bus. Plus, onsite caterers provided everything from PB&J’s to prime rib with all the fixings around the clock.
“Now that I’m home, I finally had a chance to study those pictures you sent. You’ve been, um, busy.”
That was it? Busy? No gushing over the floral arrangements? No swooning over the delectable cakes? Jenny stiffened. “But?”
“But don’t you think they’re a little—hmmm. What’s the word? Plain?”
Jenny pressed her lips together while she slowly counted to ten. Her cousin was having last-minute doubts, that was all. And no wonder. Kay didn’t have her perspective. Kay hadn’t walked the streets of Heart’s Landing or seen other brides finalizing their wedding plans. She didn’t know how much effort the thoughtful and caring shop owners had put into her last-minute wedding. Her cousin could see the photographs, sure, but no picture taken with an iPhone could possibly do justice to the intricately carved mantle in the library or the metallic threads woven into the table linens. A picture didn’t carry the lingering scent of roses; it didn’t convey the sweetness of the frosting or fill her mouth with the bright taste of pink champagne.
“It’ll be all right,” she finally soothed. “You’ll see, once you get here. You’ll be amazed.”
“My wedding has to be special. It needs more pop and sizzle. Some pizzazz,” Kay whined.
Jenny sucked in a breath and prayed for patience. “You asked for a minimum of fuss. You were quite insistent on it, in fact.” She reached for the notebook that contained Kay’s very specific requirements.
“I thought you’d understand that things had changed when we expanded the guest list.”
Jenny’s hand, like her heart, stilled. “What do you mean?”
“The guest list. We added to it.”
Jenny started to shake her head but stopped, realizing she was wasting the effort on someone who couldn’t see the motion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You didn’t get my message? I sent you a text.”
“No,” she said, drawing out the word while she swiped over to her messages and scrolled through them. Nothing. She hadn’t received a single email or text message from Kay since her arrival in Heart’s Landing.
“Whatev.”
Jenny didn’t need to see her cousin’s face to know that Kay’s frustration was showing. She heard it in the exasperated tone that grated on her nerves.
“Once word of our engagement spread, Chad and I realized we hadn’t given our plans enough thought. Our agents will have to be there, of course. And my Aunt Gertrude. I left her off the list before, but it wouldn’t be right to exclude her now.”
Jenny grabbed a pen and started jotting notes. Agents, his and hers. They’d probably bring dates, so that made four more. Kay’s aging aunt on her father’s side never ventured far from home without a companion. That meant another two. Since Chad had probably overlooked a couple of relatives, as well, she doubled that figure and studied the result. She’d have to add another row of chairs on the veranda, one or two more tables in the library. That wasn’t so bad. Certainly not anything to cause this much drama.
She tugged on a loose strand of hair. Was this another example of Kay simply being Kay? Her cousin’s flair for the dramatic was part of what made her one of Hollywood’s leading ladies, but she did tend to get excited over the smallest things. The over-the-top personality could wear a little thin at times.
“Directors. Producers. The studio big shots.” Kay rambled on from the other side of the country. “Altogether, it comes to just over two hundred. Better make that two-fifty in case we have to add anyone at the last minute. This is Hollywood,” she said as if Jenny needed the reminder. “We can’t afford to slight anybody.”
“Two—?” Jenny’s mouth dropped open. Did she dare argue with Kay? No one said no to one of Hollywood’s biggest stars. Doing so was a sure-fire way to get fired. But she wasn’t one of Kay’s usual crowd of yes-men. She and Kay were practically sisters, and, as such, she’d always been able to tell her cousin exactly what she thought. Something she needed to do right now, before things got out of hand. She swallowed.
“Karolyn, that’s impossible. You asked me to plan a small wedding for fifty guests. Intimate friends and immediate family. We can’t possibly cram more than two hundred people onto the veranda. It can’t be done.”
“You’re forgetting I rented the entire estate for the weekend,” came her cousin’s dry response. “I’m sure they handle weddings this large all the time.” “Not on a month’s notice. No.” She stopped to catch her breath. “Make that three weeks’ notice. Besides, everything’s been arranged. I’ve put down deposits on the catering, the flowers, the wedding flavors. Just like you wanted. What you’re asking is impossible. To say nothing of how much it will cost to change things this late in the game.” Thinking of the enormous expense, she rubbed her forehead. “You need to stick to the original plan.”
“It’s too late for that. The invitations have already gone out.”
“How? What?” Jenny stammered. She eyed the addressed envelopes stacked on one corner of her desk. The ones she’d slaved over for hours, writing out names and addresses in her finest penmanship. With a fountain pen, no less. To protect her cousin’s privacy, she’d scheduled a courier service to hand-deliver each of the fifty invitations next week.
“Chad’s assistant says it’s practically criminal to use paper when it’s so easy to do everything online. He designed a beautiful e-vite for our guests and sent them out days ago. The RSVP’s are pouring in. No one wants to miss the wedding of the decade.”
A hollow, tapping sound echoed in the ear Jenny had pressed against the phone. Recognizing the signal that her cousin had grown weary of the conversation and had begun drumming her nails on the closest hard surface, she massaged her temples. Tension tightened its grip on her head with every drum roll.
“So you see, the arrangements you’ve made simply won’t do. Be a doll and fix things, won’t you?”
Why should I?
Jenny pressed one hand over a stomach that had turned positively mutinous. She hadn’t created this mess. She’d planned perfectly wonderful, simple wedding, exactly what her cousin had asked her to do. It wasn’t her fault Karolyn and Chad had changed everything at the last minute. She didn’t have to go along with their plans. She could walk out right now and go…
Her thoughts skidded to a halt. Where could she go?
Not back to L.A. If she didn’t deliver on her promise to throw the wedding of Kay’s dreams—cousin or not—she could forget about her job as the personal assistant to one of the top names in Hollywood. She wouldn’t land another job like it, either. Her reputation as a top-notch assistant would be shot once word got around that she’d quit in the middle of the planning stages of Kay’s wedding. And word would get around. In L.A., it always did. After that, no one else would hire her.
Then, there was the problem of where she’d live. She couldn’t expect to keep her room in Kay’s stately Beverly Hills mansion. Though she had savings to fall back on, her money wouldn’t last long in L.A.’s high-rent district. Which meant she’d have no choice but to return to her aunt’s farm in Pennsylvania to lick her wounds while she hunted for a new job, a new career.
But no. That wouldn’t work. Not once her cousin heaped the blame for the wrecked wedding on her shoulders, it wouldn’t. Of course, Kay would conveniently fail to mention her own part in the disaster, or how she’d quadrupled the guest list less than a month before the ceremony. As much as her aunt loved her, Jenny doubted she’d even have the chance to tell her side of things before Aunt Maggie shut the door in her face. After all her a
unt had done for her—taking her in after her parents had died, making sure she got a college education and a thousand other things—was that how she wanted things to end up between them?
Jenny inhaled. Air shuddered through her. Kay hadn’t left her much choice. She had to do what her cousin wanted. No matter how much she hated the thought of starting over from scratch—of becoming another of the dreaded yes-men—she had to give Kay the wedding she wanted.
Her lips pursed as she considered the problem from every angle. Her breathing eased when she realized there was one upside to the new plan. Now that the invitations were in the mail, it’d be impossible to keep the bride’s identity a secret anymore. Shop and business owners throughout Heart’s Landing were bound to be upset by the adjustments she’d have to make to the wedding plans. But their resistance would melt away like butter once they found out who was really tying the knot at The Captain’s Cottage. Everyone wanted to be associated with a superstar like Karolyn Karter.
Best of all, she wouldn’t have to tell any more lies.
Her heart beat a little faster at the thought of telling Nick the truth. Would the tall, handsome baker be relieved to learn she wasn’t engaged after all?
As if she was reading her mind, Kay’s voice whispered into her ear. “No one knows it’s my wedding you’re planning, right?”
“No,” she mumbled, though by now, word had most certainly leaked to the tabloids.
“Good. Mum’s the word. Remember, you promised. I’m sure everyone’s talking about where we’re holding the ceremony and making guesses, but Chad and I are still keeping things under wraps.”
“How is that even possible?” Her hand clenched until her nails bit into her palms. Deliberately, she flexed her fingers. “You sent out invitations.”
“Chad thought of that. He’s chartered a jet. No one will know where we’re headed until we’re in the air. Wasn’t that smart?”
“Smart,” Jenny whispered. Unlike her, who had to be the dumbest person in the world for letting her cousin trap her into planning the wedding of the decade for the second time around.
When Kay didn’t respond, she lowered the phone from her ear. The screen had gone dark, her cousin undoubtedly on to other things. She reached for her purse and the stash of Tylenol she kept on hand for the times when Kay’s shenanigans got the best of her. This was one of those times.
She should have known better than to believe her cousin would go through with an understated, but elegant, wedding for family and a few close friends. Kay had always been the flamboyant one, the one who thrived on attention. Even when they’d been kids. Like a lot of children, they’d put on plays in the backyard on summer afternoons. But unlike their friends, Kay had lugged wooden pallets home from the nearby lumber yard and assembled them into a sturdy stage. She’d created elaborate costumes using jewelry from the discount store and clothes she’d salvaged from the ragbag. And she had always, always, been the star of the show. So, no. Nothing about Hollywood’s darling of the screen had ever been simple. Nothing at all.
Why had she ever thought Kay’s wedding would be any different?
Nick gave a firm tug on the handle on the rear door of I Do Cake’s delivery van. Hinges in need of a good oiling complained bitterly. He resisted the urge to head to the nearest car repair shop. Instead, he ran a smoothing hand over the plaid shirt he’d changed into because someone had once told him it brought out the blue in his eyes. His shirttail had worked loose. He tucked it into the waist of his best jeans.
He frowned down at himself. Why was he so on edge? The delivery van received regular service. He usually didn’t give his clothes much more than a passing thought. Clean and reasonably wrinkle-free, and he was good to go. But tonight—what made tonight different?
He wasn’t trying to impress anyone. Leastways, not anyone at the Union Street B&B. Just because he’d volunteered to take their usual Wednesday delivery off Jimmy’s hands, that didn’t mean he expected to run into any particular bride-to-be. Not him. Why, he probably wouldn’t even see Jenny this evening. She was most likely out on the town, doing whatever engaged women did on one of a dwindling number of nights before they said “I do.”
If, on the off chance, he did spot her at the bed and breakfast, he’d simply greet her like he would any casual friend and be on his way. Because friendship was all he felt for her.
All he could ever feel for another man’s bride.
Even if, other than the rock on the third finger of her left hand, she showed none of the normal signs of someone in love. No long, lingering looks at her fiancé’s picture. No constant flow of texts during her initial consultation about her wedding cake. No whispered phone calls and emails to interrupt the tasting. Not so much as a single reference to the love of her life unless she was asked a direct question about the man.
Not that it mattered to him any more than a dash of vanilla. No, siree. Whatever was going on—or not going on—between Jenny and her fiancé, it was absolutely none of his business. More to the point, it had to stay that way. She was a bride-to-be, something it would do well for him to keep in mind. As much as he enjoyed her sassy wit, as much as he liked seeing her face light up whenever she took her first taste of one of his cupcakes, Jenny was engaged to someone else.
And he needed to keep his distance.
Satisfied that he’d reached the only possible decision, he hefted the two heavy trays destined for the kitchen in the Union Street Bed and Breakfast and headed up the sidewalk to the rear entrance.
The sound of sniffles reached him before he made it to the first of the steps leading to the back porch. Instantly, the hairs on the back of his neck sprang to attention. Had someone fallen and hurt themselves? Did they need his help?
Listening intently, he stilled his breathing. No. Those weren’t cries of pain. At least, not physical pain. He was nearly certain a woman huddled in the shadowy recesses of the porch. From the sound of things, she’d had her heart broken.
Torn between the urge to run as far away as he could get from crying women and an insistent desire to rush forward, he hesitated. The weeping continued. It twisted his gut until he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to help. Or at least try.
He mounted the stairs two a time. Quietly, he lowered the trays of baked goods to one of the tables that dotted the wide back porch. He approached the corner on soundless feet. As he neared the rattan couch protected by a screen of climbing ivy, his heart lurched.
Jenny sat, her head buried in the crook of one arm, her dark ponytail draped over her shoulder. With her feet tucked under her, she looked so small and forlorn, he couldn’t help being drawn to the petite brunette. Unable to stop himself, he took another step closer.
“Jenny,” he whispered, his voice low and steady, “what’s wrong?”
“Oh. I—” Her head popped up out of her arms.
Nick studied the wet cheeks she blotted with a balled-up tissue. Had her fiancé been in an accident? Had he called off the wedding? Whatever had happened, it had to be bad. Jenny was one of the most spirited women he’d ever met. After all, she’d planned an entire wedding by herself in a matter of days. “Did something happen to Bob?”
“Who?” She swiped her nose. “Oh.” She blew gently. “No. Bob’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
That couldn’t be true. If everything was hunky dory, she wouldn’t be sitting alone in the dark, bawling her eyes out. He grabbed a handful of tissues from a nearby box and handed them across. “You might need these.”
“Thanks.” She pressed the thin sheets to her face.
Wanting to give her a minute to pull herself together, he motioned toward the trays. “Let me drop those off in the kitchen. I’ll be right back, and we can talk about what upset you. Can I get you something? A cup of tea? A glass of water?”
“Coffee would be nice. It’s going to be a long night,” she said on a heavy sigh.
In the kitchen, he slid the trays onto the shelf reserved for baked goods, then hurriedly sloshed coffee from a carafe into two heavy mugs. He’d watched Jenny fix her own coffee in the bakery often enough that he knew she took hers milky sweet. He hesitated only a second before stirring two spoons of sugar and a large dollop of cream into one of the mugs while he left his black. Carrying both, he returned to the porch.
By the time the screened door slapped shut behind him, Jenny sat upright in her corner of the couch. When she gripped the mug he handed her, her fingers were steady enough. She’d banished her tears, though she hadn’t been able to erase the puffiness around her eyes. Relieved to see her doing better, he lowered himself onto the other cushion on the couch.
“So, what happened? Did you and Bob have a fight or something?” he asked over the rim of his coffee cup.
“No. Nothing like that.” She stared down. “It’s nothing, really. There’s some stuff I have to do, and I let it get the best of me for a minute there. I was feeling sorry for myself, I guess.” She blew across her coffee. “Pity—party of one,” she called, sounding exactly like a restaurant hostess.
Though her answer extinguished the tiny flame of hope that she and her fiancé had called off the wedding, he had to smile at her ability to poke fun at herself. “Considering everything you’ve accomplished in the past few days, I’d say you deserved a good cry. You certainly wouldn’t be the first bride to have a little meltdown.” Though he longed to pat her on the shoulder, the light glinting off the ring on her finger helped him resist the urge.
“I know. And I shouldn’t complain. It’s just…”
“It’s just what?” he prompted.
She stood. Abandoning her cup to the coffee table, she moved to the porch railing. “I need to make some changes to the wedding plans, and I’m afraid it’s going to upset everyone in town. They’ve been so nice.”
