One Winter’s Day: A feel-good winter romance

by Laura Briggs

  Tessa didn’t spot Blake until the post-dinner toasts were being made. By then, the guests were standing, most of them ready for the DJ’s records to begin to spin. Blake was still there, lingering near the back of the crowd, where casual friends and coworkers of the happy couple were paying less attention to the long-winded speech Lyle’s uncle was making.

  He caught sight of her and smiled as he waved. Tessa waved and smiled back, her heart beating faster at the same time, in anticipation of him drawing near to her, near enough that what didn’t happen at the restaurant earlier today could become reality. Then Blake turned as someone caught hold of his sleeve and said something close to his ear that made him laugh.

  It was Mac, in a beautiful maroon-colored dress with sequins on its bodice trim, her dark waterfall of hair stylishly embellished with one or two tiny crystal hair jewels. She laughed at Blake’s reply in turn, and tucked her arm through his as the closest guests began conversing with them.

  Had she come as Blake’s date? The bridal couple had chosen invitations that allowed plus-ones for their single guests… but that was jumping to conclusions. Maybe Mac was invited separately and this was a perfectly innocent coincidence.

  “Shouldn’t somebody cue the music?” Ama murmured close to Tessa. Guests were applauding the toast and saluting with their glasses of champagne now that the speech was over.

  “Good point,” said Tessa, finding her voice with some effort. “I’ll do it.” She slipped through the crowd of guests, giving the spot where Blake and Mac were standing a wide berth.

  Round two of champagne circulated, along with mixed cocktails on the serving staff’s trays. Guests danced to love songs, then applauded as Nadia and Lyle cut the bottom layer of the snowflake cake, and sampled one of its crystal candy snowflakes for the photographer’s latest snap. Tessa took a photo with her phone’s camera, though she failed to adjust the focus, her usual attention to detail slipping momentarily.

  “Nice job,” said Blake. He was at her elbow—Tessa’s next photo was a completely blurry mess as her hand jumped in response to his voice. “The party, not the pic,” he said, as the image appeared on her phone’s screen.

  “Thanks.” Tessa’s tone was empty. She deleted the shot, her eyes trained on the phone’s screen. “You stayed for the whole reception,” she said. “I didn’t realize you—I assumed you were leaving after the flowers were done.” She hadn’t assumed any such thing, actually. She was just trying hard not to think about that moment in the restaurant kitchen. The way Blake had almost reached for her kiss after she embraced him so impulsively—then hesitated, as if remembering that he shouldn’t. Or couldn’t

  “I had an invitation to this event burning a hole in the pocket of my jeans,” he said. “I figured it’s good for your business’s fourth partner to put in a public appearance at a wedding now and then. I thought you knew I was coming. Didn’t I tell you?”

  “No,” said Tessa, trying to sound nonchalant now. “But you were invited, so it’s great that you came. And brought a guest,” she added. Her finger pushed the ‘delete’ button a little too firmly and accidentally trashed a photo of Ama smiling as her creation was being tasted by the wedding couple. “Did you lose Mac in the crowd momentarily?”

  “She’s waiting to sample one of your mini cheesecakes,” he said. “I may’ve given her the impression that Ama’s baked goods are not to be missed,” he admitted, pretending to look guilty about doing it.

  Tessa almost smiled in return. “That’s nice of you,” she said. “She’ll be happy to have your endorsement.”

  “It’s the truth. It’s not like I had to embellish anything,” he said. “Mac paid you a compliment the moment she walked inside. She wants to know who came up with the idea for the floral theme, and I told her you did.”

  This compliment left Tessa feeling strangely deflated. “It was Accented Creations who came up with the real design,” she said. “And we owe you the rest for making sure they delivered the goods.”

  “I saw the sketches in your office before you called the florist,” said Blake. “I know where the idea came from, even if they tweaked it.”

  A strange warmth swept through Tessa. “Maybe a tiny bit of it was me,” she said, lowering her gaze, suddenly afraid there was a blush on her cheeks which hadn’t been present a second ago. She studied the restaurant’s carpet, as if checking for errant crumbs. “Wedding planners are meant to be jacks of all trades. We know a little about colors, a little about flowers, a little about food. Enough to get by.”

  “Maybe Mac will be hiring you in the future instead,” he teased.

  The color quickly vanished from Tessa’s face. “I’m a little too busy to design flowers for people’s foyers,” she said, forgetting to watch her tone. The heat in her face had found a new home.

  Stupid kiss. Stupid, stupid me for letting myself even think about it after the first time.

  “Easy,” said Blake, looking slightly puzzled. “It was a joke, Tess. I didn’t mean anything by it, except maybe that you have talents besides the planning part of things.”

  She repented of that mistake now. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean—I wasn’t trying to—” She hesitated. “Anyway, I hope Mac has a good time at the reception. You too.”

  It wasn’t as if he would do anything else, probably, at a catered party in the company of a beautiful woman who was dying to say yes to his offer to spend an evening out together… if Mac hadn’t said yes to that offer in the past already. The way she talked to him, touched him. The chance definitely existed that the two of them were beyond the strictly business side of things.

  “You too,” he said. “You said before this is the part you live for, when it all goes right and the client is living out their happiest moment. I don’t think it gets much better than the one taking place out there right now.”

  He was looking behind her, toward the dance floor in the main dining room, where the newlyweds were sharing their first slow dance as husband and wife to the love song that was supposed to play in that semi-disastrous moment at their rehearsal dinner. Tessa watched as Nadia lifted her head from Lyle’s shoulders, their eyes meeting as they swayed to the music.

  This time, a smile found its way to her lips. “No, it doesn’t,” she answered softly.

  She felt Blake’s fingers on her shoulder, brushing against her sleeve. More like a nudge than a touch in its briefness, only gentler than Tessa felt that a friend’s hand would offer it. “That’s because of your work today,” he said, as Lyle and Nadia moved together on the dance floor. “So, again, nice job.”

  “Thanks,” said Tessa. Her voice was quieter than the last time she said it, with no trace of sarcasm or humor. Blake moved on, replaced by a groomsman asking Tessa to take a photograph of the bridesmaids posing with him.

  From her place at the restaurant’s main bar, Tessa watched the dance floor grow more casual for the second half of the evening, with the music become trendier and louder and the dancing crowd growing younger. Although she didn’t admit it to herself, her eye was really on Blake and Mac, especially the interior designer, who was leaning into him as they posed for a photograph, her hand on his shoulder. Then she leaned against him on the dance floor, swaying gently on the fringes of the rhythmic couples, despite the upbeat love song playing.

  Tessa turned away before they could catch her watching, and let her chin rest on her crossed arms for a moment. Her view of the world was of candles glittering on an empty table, the locked glass liquor cabinets behind the bar, and the remains of the nuts from the bar’s crystal dish. The tip of Tessa’s pinky finger nudged into place the pistachio shells piled around the base of her champagne flute, lining them up like little soldiers.

  Someone sat down next to her. Natalie, too, leaned on a pair of folded arms, peering toward Tessa’s face. “Penny for your thoughts,” she said. “I haven’t seen much of you this evening. I thought you’d be torturing me with needles under my fingernails for the missing details
of the cake story.”

  “I trust you,” said Tessa. “You said it was solved.” Her fingernail turned the last nutshell’s pointed tip to face the same direction as the rest.

  Natalie said nothing. Tessa could feel her friend’s gaze fixed intently, as if boring through her. “Blake was right,” she said. “You are jealous of her.”

  A perfect guess. Not that you had to be one of her closest friends in the world, however, to see what was happening right now. Tessa felt her face crumpling slightly, something she struggled to prevent, just like the inner collapse of her walls.

  She drew herself upright as she nodded. “But not professionally,” she answered. She felt Natalie’s arms around her shoulders as she closed her eyes, the best safeguard against any tears that might threaten to show up at this confession.

  She was horribly, helplessly jealous. Those were not the attributes of calm, professional Tessa Miller at any other time, but no matter how hard she denied it, the sight of him with another woman had brought the truth screaming to her consciousness. She liked Blake—was attracted to Blake—wanted to fall in love with Blake. It could happen in any order of this process, but these things were definitely all happening to her, and had been from the moment she first walked into Wedding Belles’ headquarters and laid eyes on him.

  It was too late now. She was going to kick herself for this mistake for a long, long time.

  Twenty-Five

  The cake was down to leftover slices on plates on the dessert table. Empty glasses occupied most available table surfaces in both the main and private dining rooms at Olive Brook, as the staff cleared away the debris left by the wedding party. And Tessa’s feet were aching as the tight leather of her high heels closed around them after a long day as she, Ama, and Natalie packed up the wedding gifts, flowers, guest book, the cake’s top layer, and other belongings of the bride and groom for delivery to Lyle’s place the next day.

  The Wedding Belles’ headquarters was quiet except for the usual creaks and groans of a building settling late at night, and the gentle hum from the kitchen fridge. Natalie deposited the box containing the guest book and the bride and groom’s champagne flutes on the desk in reception, while Tessa placed the bridal table’s centerpiece flowers in a chipped yellow vase stashed beneath it.

  “I am exhausted, sore, and starving,” Natalie announced, kicking off her high heels as she spoke aloud Tessa’s first thought upon unlocking the door. “Please tell me there’s something in the fridge besides those pickles.” She flopped down on the sofa in the parlor, pulling its shawl around her and leaving exposed the sun-faded upholstery on its upper cushions.

  “There’s not,” Ama called back, as she slid the bakery box containing the cake’s topmost layer into the fridge. “But there’s a pizza place two streets over that delivers until midnight.”

  “I’m calling them. I don’t care if they only have anchovies and charge twenty dollars a pie.” Natalie pulled her phone from her handbag and opened the city app. “I could eat one by myself.”

  Tessa plugged in the Christmas lights for the mini tree on the reception desk. The big trees in the window were dark, their brightly colored balls looking somewhat tarnished in the shadows. Even the little white and red twinkle lights didn’t cheer her up. The thought of Christmas was depressing at this moment.

  “Here’s to happy occasions—and broken bad luck streaks.” With this toast, Natalie lifted her water bottle to Ama’s cup of tea and Tessa’s coffee mug. “May next time be magical at every stage, and not just the end.”

  “To future good luck,” echoed Ama.

  Soon after, the ‘Greek special’ pizza was delivered, and Ama reached for a slice, the feta and mozzarella, chicken, and peperoncino olives wafting steam into the air. “Mmm, this is good,” she said. “Pickled peppers and olives on pizza. I love pepperoni, but I think I totally love this too.” She took another bite.

  “So what happened to the cake?” Tessa set her coffee mug on the table and crossed her arms around her legs, hugging them from her perch in the armchair. Her two partners exchanged glances.

  “Let’s just say the top layer is not my finest work,” began Ama hesitantly.

  “Not your work at all,” clarified Natalie. “Its design, however, should win some awards. You dressed that baby up so well that its own bakery mother wouldn’t know it.”

  “That’s not our cake?” Tessa said, her mouth dropping open. “Where’s our cake’s real top?”

  “In pieces in the garbage?” said Ama. Her meek reply dissolved into a giggle after a second; Natalie snorted back a laugh, covering her mouth with one hand as she looked away in an attempt at self-composure.

  “It’s not that funny,” protested Tessa. “What’s underneath the fondant? Tell me it’s not the Twinkies from the pantry,” she added.

  Natalie shook her head. “Just a plain ol’ bakery cake from the closest place I could find on short notice,” she answered. “But you can’t tell by looking at it. I swear, after today I will always say that Ama’s a genius with fondant.”

  “Maybe not a genius,” said Ama, wrinkling her nose. “Just good in a tight spot.”

  Natalie smothered another laugh, but Ama was giving Tessa a look of scrutiny. “Wait a moment,” she said. “You told me earlier there was a problem with the centerpiece’s delivery. What happened in that situation?”

  “Wrong delivery service—they brought us the decorations for a soccer team’s party,” said Tessa. “Accented Creations had a flat tire and an hour’s delay on top of being late. It was half unpacked by the time I realized the wrong people were decorating the restaurant,” she confessed.

  “What was in the dining room when you walked out there?” Natalie asked.

  “Purple piñatas, green streamers, giant sombreros. The normal decorations for a wedding,” answered Tessa. When Natalie and Ama dissolved into laughter again, the same infection swept over Tessa too.

  “This may go down as our most interesting time planning a wedding,” said Natalie, taking a second slice of pizza from the box. “Definitely our most turbulent time.”

  “At least it turned out beautifully in the end,” said Ama. “You would never know that it was full of disasters, watching it from the outside. We’re lucky nobody saw what was behind the curtain except for Nadia and Lyle.”

  She lifted another slice of pizza as she rose from the sofa. “I think there are some leftover cheesecakes in the fridge,” she said. “Be right back.” She disappeared in the direction of the kitchen as Tessa studied her painted toenails, falling silent now that only two partners were left in the room.

  “Hey,” said Natalie softly. “Don’t think about it too hard. Nobody but me noticed tonight that you were less than your enthusiastic self for a few minutes. You know I can keep a secret. You trust me, right?”

  “It’s not that,” said Tessa. “There’s no point in keeping it a secret except to keep from being embarrassed in front of him. Any more embarrassed than I’ve been recently,” she corrected, at the mortifying memory of lashing out at Blake days ago—and nearly kissing him this afternoon.

  “Except for him, I’m not afraid of anybody figuring it out who hasn’t already teased me about the idea in the past. Me, the reformed romantic liking our sexy handyman.” Her tone was sad and bitter, as if this idea was part of the past now, no more than teasing words at their first pizza party.

  “Then what?” asked Natalie.

  Tessa hesitated. “I was so stupid,” she said. “I blew it, Natalie. After my bad string of crushes in the past, I said I wasn’t going to fall head over heels for anybody again, and look what happened. And now… now he likes somebody else. As usual.” She blinked hard, feeling the threat of tears creeping up suspiciously. “I shoved him away all the times in the past, and it didn’t do any good for me. I probably shoved him into the arms of Miss Perfect.”

  “Who says she’s perfect for him?” Natalie asked. “Mac’s overrated. So she’s a decorating genius with a ré
sumé as long as a runway carpet? You have pluck. And a really great body.”

  Tessa snorted with laughter, failing to smother her response completely as Ama walked in. “Why are we talking about Blake’s friend?” she asked, as she set the plate of cheesecakes on top of the pizza box’s lid. “And Tessa’s body?”

  “Don’t ask,” said Natalie. But Ama had made the connection now, her gaze swiveling from the designer to the wedding planner. “No,” she said. “You like him. You said it, didn’t you? Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I missed it. I’ve been waiting weeks for you to say something.”

  “Has everybody in this place just assumed I have a crush on Blake?” asked Tessa, who still managed to be miffed in the face of her predictions actualized. “Didn’t anybody think I was telling the truth when I said I was through with romance?”

  “No, not really,” said Ama. “I just can’t believe you actually admit it now.”

  “I knew you’d fall off the wagon someday,” Natalie replied archly. “I only can’t believe it took you this long.”

  “Why not?” Tessa mumbled as she sipped her coffee. “Now that he has another girl, what do I have to lose? Except my dignity, of course.”

  “Stop whining,” said Natalie. “He never said he’s dating Mac, so maybe it’s just a passing phase. Look on the bright side: at least your one-sided romantic problem involves a hot guy who might still be unattached. I’m still trying to convince my unwanted admirer to give up on me and latch onto somebody else.”

  “Not Chad?” said Tessa. “I thought you liked him.”

  “I like Chad. I’m talking about… well, about somebody who shows up sometimes,” answered Natalie vaguely. “My issue isn’t the romantic disaster of a lifetime, believe me.” She made it sound like she was joking. “Chad’s still a great guy, just in case anybody is wondering.” She snagged a cheesecake from the plate.