The Winter Wedding Plan--An unforgettable story of love, betrayal, and sisterhood

by Olivia Miles

  “At least there’s a tree in the front room. That’s a start, even if it’s not decorated,” Rita continued. “Let’s just hope the food is good. I wish you would at least consult with someone from Boston. They could easily drive the food down in vans.”

  “There’s no time,” Greg said sharply. “Besides, Misty Point is a resort town, full of wealthy people throwing parties and events. I’m sure there are plenty of local businesses to accommodate your fine tastes, Mother.”

  Lifting her eyebrows, Rita lowered her gaze to her plate, and the subject dropped. Within seconds, conversation resumed, the main subject this time being the dissection of the afternoon meeting and lunch with the people from Burke’s department stores.

  By the time they had finished the meal, Charlotte had almost completely relaxed. Nothing had been asked of her. Rita seemed to have no interest in Charlotte’s life or interests or background. If the party went this smoothly, there was no doubt she’d be receiving the rest of her payment from Gregory. She could give Audrey a wonderful first Christmas, Kate would surely give her more accounts of her own, and Charlotte would finally feel she was making things up to her sister, in the only way she knew how. The New Year would be the beginning of a great new life. She smiled as she sipped her wine.

  Greg, however, was not smiling.

  “Is something wrong, Gregory?” Rita inquired tersely.

  “I’m surprised you’d notice,” he replied evenly.

  “Well, of course I’d notice. You’re sitting there with a scowl on your face. It’s the same look you used to get as a little boy when you didn’t get your way. Which seemed more often than not, despite all I did for you,” she muttered.

  Uh-oh. Charlotte shot Greg a pleading look. It had all been going so smoothly!

  “I’m just tired of discussing work,” Greg said tightly.

  “Well, what do you want to talk about then? The weather? Christmas?” Rita gave a laugh as if the mere mention of the holiday was silly and quaint. “You and I both know we’re not like that, Gregory. We don’t sit around the dinner table discussing trivial things.”

  “I didn’t know my life was trivial. This is the first time you’re meeting Charlotte, after all. Aren’t you curious about the woman I’m marrying?”

  Charlotte was positively glaring at Greg now, but he didn’t make eye contact with her. She stared longer, hoping he would pick up on it, that he would remember what they were doing here, but still he just stared levelly at his mother at the opposite end of the long table. There was hurt in his eyes, she realized.

  “Well, I’m sorry, Gregory,” Rita huffed after a long silence. “Obviously the Burke’s account is foremost on my mind at the moment. Here we have a perfect opportunity to continue discussing our strategy, our last in-person meeting before the holiday party next week, which will truly be our last chance to seal this. Don’t tell me you’re getting sentimental on me.” She turned to Charlotte. “Charlotte and I will have plenty of time to get to know one another after all this other business is settled. I’m sure she understands that this takes precedence, of course.”

  Charlotte twisted the thick cloth napkin in her lap. Tension hung in the silence like a heavy blanket. She was holding up her end of the bargain, right down to even making the damn dinner. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might be the one to toss his hands up in the air, back down on their deal, and throw away any chance she had of making a better life for her daughter and proving herself in her sister’s eyes.

  “Never mind,” Greg finally said. He slid his chair back from the table and stood. “Charlotte, dinner was delicious. As usual.” At this, Charlotte stifled a laugh.

  “Shall we take a walk of the house so we can confirm the details for the party?” Rita suggested.

  Charlotte nodded eagerly, but she couldn’t shake the impact of the moment. In all the time she had known Jake, he had never tried to defend her, never tried to put her first or demand that she be given respect. He’d let his family be his guide, let their haughty ways and social ranking take precedence over how he treated first Kate, and then her. And then their daughter.

  But Greg had been different.

  And even as she told herself that this engagement wasn’t real, her connection to Greg was becoming a lot more real than she had prepared herself for.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Three more days. Three more days until the tree-lighting ceremony and then…And then what? This was where Bree always reached a dead end.

  After their breakup talk in August—which was supposed to be a relationship conversation and ended up taking a disappointing turn—she’d only dared to think she and Simon might ever find a way back to each other. The flowers…a major error in judgment, and one she hoped would never be referenced again. But time. Yes, maybe time was what Simon had needed. She’d given him his space. She’d let him miss her. And now…now there were only three more days until the tree lighting.

  She could always skip it. Let him have a taste of his own medicine. But that wasn’t her style—never had been. She would go, expecting nothing, wanting (hopefully) even less, and use this as an opportunity for some much-needed closure.

  Either way, one thing was certain: She’d be looking her damn best. Let him see what he’d been missing.

  She shivered as she walked down Harbor Street, her cousin Kate at her side. Caroline was manning the shop. The extra deliveries and holiday orders made it impossible to cover alone, but one of the true perks of seasonal help was that she could step out for a long lunch break without having to worry about the sign being turned. Today she was accompanying her cousin to the bridal salon to check out some of the final touches that had been made to Kate’s dress.

  “Is Charlotte joining us today?” Bree asked.

  Kate shook her head as she reached for the door handle of the shop. “She’s covering the office so I can be here at all. I need to bring her by, soon, though. We need to decide on Audrey’s flower girl dress. I thought she could come in on a wagon edged in greenery.” She cut her a sharp glance. “You can do that, right?”

  Bree laughed. “Of course. And it’s a sweet idea. Any more thoughts on the bridesmaids?”

  “Honestly, I’ve been so busy with work that I let that slide. Hopefully this weekend Alec and I can put together the wedding party list and let everyone know.” She grinned at Bree. “Of course you’re a bridesmaid. I assumed you knew that.”

  “But of course! I am, after all, your only female cousin. And I look ravishing in tulle.”

  “Oh, I’m not going for tulle,” Kate said to Bree’s extreme relief. She crossed the room and held up a stunning A-line strapless gown in a thick taffeta. “I had my eye on this. And luckily, it’s one of the ones they can get on short notice.” She clucked her tongue. “I don’t know how I let this go for so long.”

  “I love it!” Bree exclaimed, gently touching the material. But as happy as she was not to be sporting some one-shoulder pouffy affair, another part of her couldn’t help thinking what a shame it would be that she would be without a date.

  Unless…She knew she shouldn’t tempt fate, but the wedding wasn’t until after Christmas, and who knew, maybe she and Simon would get back together over the holidays.

  Flick, flick. The poor rubber band was about to snap.

  Kate started chatting with Sofia, the owner of the shop. It was the only bridal salon in town, and Bree knew that most brides came to Sofia for their dresses. She’d probably do the same someday.

  My, wasn’t she feeling optimistic today! She walked to the rack where the veils were kept, all so frothy and delicate, like some sort of candy confection. Her fingers were just itching to take one from the hook, place it on her head, and imagine what it would be like…

  She backed away from the rack carefully and took a seat in the center of the room on the tufted sofa she’d sat on last time she was here. And the time before, when Kate was planning her wedding to Jake. They never talked about it anymore, but Bree knew from
firsthand experience how hard it could be to let go.

  “You okay?” she asked Kate as Sofia slipped into the back room.

  Kate nodded. “It used to be hard for me to come here with my brides, but now that I have Alec, it’s different. Everything happened for a reason. Besides, it’s Charlotte I’m worried about. Have you heard that Jake is getting married?”

  This was news to Bree, and she wondered why Charlotte hadn’t mentioned it. “Is Charlotte upset?”

  “I can’t be sure,” Kate said. “But unlike me, she can’t just move on. They have a child together.”

  Bree had been wondering whether to broach the topic of her recent suspicions to Kate, and now she couldn’t resist. She shifted on the sofa, until she was looking right at her cousin. “I wouldn’t be so concerned about her moving on. I have a feeling she’s met someone.”

  Kate’s eyes were round. “Really? But…she never said anything.” She looked a little wounded.

  “She never told me, either,” Bree said quickly. “But I saw her with a very handsome man the other night, and something tells me they were more than just friends.” Or clients, as Charlotte would wish her to believe.

  Kate gave a little smile. “I wonder who the mystery man is.”

  * * *

  Greg poured himself a whiskey from the decanter that Marlene had kept refreshed on the bar cart since back when his grandfather was still alive and sank onto the couch. The Christmas tree blazed before him. Charlotte must have put up the lights today, he realized. No doubt his mother’s observations on its lack of decorations had prompted some action.

  He sat forward, noticing another addition to the room. The leather-bound photo albums he’d given to Charlotte her first day here were stacked on the center. He reached forward, turning the cover on one, feeling all at once sad and happy at the image staring back. It was taken on his grandfather’s boat, when he was only four or five. He was holding a fishing pole, smiling proudly at the camera. His grandfather had one hand shielding his eyes from the sun, the other draped over Greg’s shoulder. It was one of their favorite pastimes. The two of them, on the water, or just tinkering down at the dock. There would be fresh lemonade when he came back to the house. He could picture his mother sitting on the back veranda with his grandmother, smiling.

  Smiling. He frowned, wondering if time had distorted his memory. But, no, he was certain of it. Those were happy times. The happiest ever, perhaps.

  “Mind if I come in?” a soft voice behind him asked. Charlotte stood in the doorway holding a small speaker in her hand. “Baby monitor,” she explained, setting it on the coffee table as she sat down at the opposite end of the couch.

  “I owe you an apology for last night,” Greg said, closing the photo album.

  Her grin was rueful. “For a minute there, I thought you were going to blow our cover.”

  Greg settled his head back against a cushion and looked up at the ceiling. “Maybe I should have,” he said.

  “Don’t say that!” Charlotte snapped, jarring his attention.

  He turned to her. “You really want to pull this off, don’t you?” When she didn’t reply, he pressed, “Why?”

  Charlotte stared at the tree. “I told you,” she said. “When I set my mind to something, I don’t back down.”

  “Ever?”

  She slanted him a look. “Not easily.”

  “I like that quality in a woman,” he said, and then sat upright, quickly draining the rest of his whiskey. He’d overstepped with that comment. Even if he meant it. “But you didn’t answer my question. Why did you even agree to this?” He’d seen the way she’d wavered that first day in his office, the way she’d hesitated when he’d called her bluff. “Is it because of the party? Does your company really need the business that badly?”

  “No!” Charlotte insisted hotly. She settled back against a throw pillow. “My sister owns the company, and she does quite well. If you must know, this is the first account she’s let me handle on my own. I didn’t want to let her down.”

  Her first account. Greg inwardly groaned, hoping his expression didn’t betray his true feelings. “So you’d rather go along with pretending to be my fiancée than lose out on the opportunity to plan my party,” he summarized.

  Charlotte hesitated. “More or less.” She tucked her feet under her and adjusted a pile of pillows behind her back. “My sister and I aren’t on the best of terms. We’ve…been through some things. Personally, not professionally. I…I just don’t want to let her down again.”

  “Again?”

  “It’s complicated,” Charlotte said.

  Greg stood and crossed to the bar cart, allowing himself a refill. “Can I get you anything?” he asked, but Charlotte shook her head.

  “Audrey will probably wake up in a few hours.”

  Of course. Greg measured himself a generous pour and placed the cap back on the etched glass decanter. “So you really don’t mind doing this on your own, then? Raising Audrey, I mean.”

  He walked slowly back to the couch and resumed his seat, perhaps an inch or two closer to her than he had been. If she cared, she didn’t show it either way. He swallowed back his disappointment and then quickly snuffed it out completely when he realized what it was. She was a pretty woman sitting on his couch in a tight blue T-shirt and gray sweatpants. And he was a man. A normal, healthy man who would of course react to such a thing.

  But it didn’t mean anything more than that.

  As discreetly as he could, he inched back to the side of the couch, setting his elbow on the armrest.

  “She’s my daughter. Of course I don’t mind raising her,” Charlotte said, and for a moment, Greg felt like a jerk for asking such a thing, until she continued. “But I won’t deny that it’s hard. Harder than I could have expected. Still, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

  Greg lowered his eyes to his glass and heaved a long breath. He set it to the side, unfinished. It didn’t help. It couldn’t dull the pain that always came after he saw his mother. Nothing could.

  “You’re still upset about your mother,” she observed.

  “That obvious?”

  “Is she always like that? I mean—”

  He felt his mouth pull to a thin line as he replayed the dinner. “You know, the thing is that she actually thought you were my fiancée. It was her first time meeting the woman I’m supposedly marrying, and she didn’t ask you a thing about yourself.”

  Charlotte gave a small smile. “It sort of took the pressure off. We don’t have to worry about her poking holes in our story.”

  Fair enough. He was losing focus, something he rarely did, especially when it came to the business. His grandfather’s business. The thought of it going to Drew…He took a sip of his drink, feeling it burn all the way down his throat. “I’m too old to be getting upset over it, I suppose.”

  “I don’t think so,” Charlotte said. “You want her approval. Everyone wants that from the people they love. It’s why you’re doing so much to succeed in the company.”

  “Frost Greeting Cards is all I have ever known. It was as big a part of my life as my own parent.” He gave a bitter laugh. “It was like the sibling I was always competing with. At a certain point, I couldn’t imagine my life without it.”

  “That’s why this party is so important to you,” Charlotte said, nodding.

  “It’s more than that.” Greg hated even thinking about this. “If things don’t go well with Burke, my mother threatened to give the company to my cousin Drew when she retires. My distant cousin.”

  He couldn’t imagine sitting back and watching his distant cousin take control of the company. Drew hadn’t lived and breathed Frost the way he had. He hadn’t been invested in it, lived it, or breathed it. It wasn’t a part of his daily life. It was just a job he took when he graduated college. An easy transition into the family company.

  “Could she really do that?” Charlotte frowned.

  “She could.”

  Charlotte hesi
tated. “Well, could and would are two very different things. She’s anxious.”

  He wished he could believe that, but he wasn’t so sure.

  “Don’t worry,” Charlotte said, patting his hand. “The party will be great. Just the thing you need to land that account.” She smiled at him, letting him almost relax, when a cry crackled through the monitor, startling them both. Charlotte leaned across the couch, closing the distance between their bodies until he could smell the faint sweetness of her shampoo. Catching his stare, she locked eyes with him, and for a moment, everything around them went still. Her lips were parted in expectation, her green irises soft and warm. There was a dusting of freckles on her nose he hadn’t noticed before. He could lean in, just an inch, maybe two, and see if she’d do the same.

  Quickly, he stood up, ignoring the startled expression that passed over Charlotte’s face. “I should probably let you tend to Audrey,” he said, noticing that the crying had increased in volume. Had it been going on that entire time? Somehow he hadn’t even noticed.

  Charlotte flicked off the speaker and the noise stopped. She stood up, a small smile playing at her lips.

  He wondered if she had felt it, too. The connection. Or possibly just chemistry. Just before he could get lost in the fantasy he had created, she turned to him and said, “Speaking of the party. I really need your decision about the menu by the morning, or I’ll have to place the order myself.”

  He frowned. “Oh. Of course. Yes.”

  “Both of us need this event to be a success, Greg. We’re a team in this.” Charlotte held up the monitor and began backing out of the room, her smile the last thing he saw as she disappeared from the room. “See you tomorrow, then.”

  He nodded, just once. Tomorrow.

  * * *

  Charlotte woke to Audrey’s familiar cry, as she did every night. She had it down pat by now—the middle of the night wake-up was just for a change, not a feeding. She glanced at the bedside clock, noting that it was only midnight; she’d felt like she’d been asleep for hours somehow.