Now was her chance to make her escape. Quickly, she rose and started to the door, intending to wave good-bye and leave. But he ended his call and hurried to her side before she reached the door.
“Leaving so soon?”
“I have an appointment with a bride.” She turned and smiled at him, a funny little skip in her heart when she looked up into his clear blue eyes.
He nodded, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “Wreath, I’m new here—Natchez is a small city, but I’ve been too busy to even look for an apartment, let alone search out the best restaurants. Have dinner with me tonight? Pick your favorite place. It’ll give us a chance to catch up.”
Wreath took a moment to consider his request. She’d dated Micah for several weeks before he’d introduced her to Jack. She’d liked him. He’d been a nice, thoughtful guy. But now he was a reminder of her past, of the most painful time in her life. “I’m sorry. I’m so busy I barely take time to eat. Maybe after Thanksgiving.” She thought she saw disappointment in his eyes but dismissed it as her imagination.
“I understand.” He touched her arm. “But I won’t let you avoid me forever.”
Was she that obvious? “I’d better go.” She turned to leave, but the question that had been hanging in the back of her mind couldn’t be contained any longer. She glanced at Micah. He was staring at her, his blue eyes intense and probing, and she knew he was aware of her thoughts. “Do you ever talk to him?”
A muscle in Micah’s jaw flexed, and he glanced away briefly before answering. “No. I ran into him about a year ago at the airport in Atlanta.”
“How did he look?”
“The same. He’s been married a couple of times and has a child who lives with the mother. He said he just couldn’t be tied down. Too much fun to be had. And no, he didn’t ask about you.”
The harsh tone in Micah’s voice tore through her like a dull knife opening an old wound. Her heart burned, as if Jack had left her again. What was wrong with her? The man walked out on her at her wedding. How could she even harbor a thought about him? She turned and hurried down the stairs, tossing a quick good-bye to Helen before leaving the building.
Outside, the cold brisk wind helped clear her mind and settle her nerves. A quick glance at her watch told her she’d be late for her appointment with Grace to go over the music for the ceremony. She shifted her focus away from the sight of Micah and the memories his presence had unearthed. It was too much to deal with right now. She’d have to avoid him as much as possible until this wedding was over. Maybe then she could put it behind her once and for all.
Chapter 2
Micah shut the door to his office, dragging a hand along his jaw. Taking a small peppermint candy from the jar on his desk, he unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth then stood by the window that looked out over the courtyard and fountain in the rose garden. He wished his office window overlooked the parking lot so he could watch Wreath leaving.
The sight of her had hit him like a fist in the gut. She was even lovelier than he’d remembered. Still slender, her curves were those of a grown woman now. Her once long, dark brown hair was cut shorter, brushing her shoulders in fluid strands. Her cinnamon-brown eyes with their long lashes gave her a wide-eyed innocent look, though the sparkle he remembered was missing.
He turned from the window and moved back to his desk. His gaze landed on the chair where Wreath had sat. She was part of his past. He’d been in love with her then, and he’d kicked himself a thousand times for allowing Jack to swoop in and steal her away. He’d been furious when the jerk had left her standing at the altar heartbroken and crushed. But there was nothing he could do. Wreath loved Jack. Not him. Even after all this time, her primary thought was for Jack.
He opened his laptop and pulled up the files he needed to go over before his meeting with the hotel’s owner tomorrow. He looked forward to working at Monmouth. He’d been blessed to land such a prestigious position. The property had garnered numerous awards and industry recognition; named one of the “top 50 U.S. Inns & B&Bs” and one of the “top 100 small luxury hotels” in the world. He intended to maintain those rankings.
With a grunt of disgust, Micah leaned back in his chair. If he could keep his mind on his job and not Wreath Anderson— The sight of her had unleashed feelings he thought long buried. From the moment she’d turned to face him, his heart had exploded in his chest. The narrow skirt and ridiculous spiked heels emphasized her slender legs. The softly draped top in royal blue, the bold necklace resting against her delicate throat, had called attention to her dark hair and warm brown eyes. He’d thought his feelings for Wreath were long gone, but now he had to acknowledge the truth. Whatever he’d felt for Wreath wasn’t dead. It was very much alive.
It was dark when Wreath pulled her car into the Wedding Wreath’s parking lot, even though it was only four thirty in the afternoon. She was a sunshine person, and she always had difficulty adjusting to the loss of daylight savings time and the early onset of darkness that made the nights seem long and lonely.
She gathered her materials from the backseat and started toward the 120-year-old church that housed her wedding consultant business. The building stood on the corner of two downtown streets and had served as the Community Church for decades. When the congregation outgrew the building and put it up for sale, Wreath’s aunt and uncle had bought it and turned it into an event facility.
The motion detector blinked on as she took the steps, illuminating the weathered old brick. Even in the dark, the building was beautiful with its stained-glass windows and tall brick-and-wood bell tower with gabled roof. She loved her job, and she thanked God every day for the opportunity to organize and plan lovely events and fantasy weddings for her clients. She liked to think the people who celebrated here enjoyed a little leftover grace from when it was a house of worship.
Inside the reception area, the fragrance of fresh flowers and old wood welcomed her back, along with the wave and smile from her close friend and assistant, Bonnie Coleman. Wreath stopped at Bonnie’s desk in the anteroom outside her office, waiting for an update. Bonnie was always on top of everything at the Wedding Wreath. The business couldn’t run without her.
“About time you showed up. What kept you?”
“Sorry. I got sidetracked at Monmouth. Turns out the new manager is an old friend of mine, so we took a few moments to catch up.”
Bonnie stared, wide-eyed. “Broussard?” A smile slowly spread across her pretty face. “Oh my. I wish I could say he was a friend of mine.” She exhaled a heartfelt sigh.
“You’ve met him?”
“Not officially, but I saw him the other day when I was there. That guy is delicious. I seriously thought about quitting this job and going to work for Helen just so I could look at him every day.”
Wreath tilted her head and smiled. “Bonnie.”
“So how do you know him, and why didn’t you ever tell me about this guy?”
“It was a long time ago. He was my trainer when I went to work for the Hancock hotel chain in Memphis. I haven’t seen him in years.”
Bonnie leaned forward over the desk. “Did you date?”
Wreath thought about Micah’s compliment. He’d always been one to notice what she was wearing. “Briefly.”
“And you let him go? Why?”
Wreath sat down in the armchair in front of Bonnie’s desk and slipped off her heels, using the time to decide what to tell her friend. Bonnie was one of the few people who knew about her wedding humiliation, so there was no point in trying to hide the truth. “Bonnie, Micah is the one who introduced me to Jack.”
Bonnie’s expression shifted quickly from curious anti-cipation to a sad realization. “Oh, Wreath.” She sat back in her chair and shook her head. “Well, I’m going to write him off my hunk-of-the-month list. I don’t want him introducing me to any of his friends.”
An unexpected wave of defensiveness rose in Wreath’s chest. “It wasn’t his fault. Not really. Micah is a great guy
. A nice guy. He was always thoughtful and considerate. Very attentive when we were together, and he has a great sense of humor.”
Bonnie raised her eyebrows. “Okay, so were you happy to see him again or not?”
That was the million-dollar question. Wreath stood and picked up her shoes and purse. “Are Grace and Brian here?”
“They arrived right before you did. They’re waiting in your office. Are you not going to answer me?”
“I don’t have an answer yet.” Turning, she dismissed the disturbing question and walked to her office. She needed to tell Grace about the change in the wedding menu. Hopefully she would take the news with the same easy attitude she had other obstacles in the planning. Wreath walked down the short hall to her office, putting a regretful smile on her face. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
Grace waved off her concern. “We haven’t been here long. Do you realize we’re only four weeks away from the big day?” She exchanged a happy smile with Brian, her groom.
Wreath sat behind her desk and pulled up their file on her computer. “Oh believe me, I’m fully aware of that, and I’m working around the clock to get it all done in time.”
Grace’s beaming smile dimmed a shade. “Oh, I’m sorry. I get so excited I forget how hard you have to work to make this all happen.”
“Please don’t worry about that. It’s my job, and I love the challenge. Pulling everything together is fun for me.” Wreath picked up the menu Helen had given her earlier. “I’m afraid I have some bad news about the wedding dinner. We’ll have to make some adjustments on the dessert.” She explained the reason behind the change and pointed out the options. Bride and groom made their choice, and Wreath logged it into her computer. “Sorry for the change, but as you’ve discovered, nothing ever goes exactly as planned.”
Grace smiled and waved off her concerns. “It’s not a big deal. The only important thing about that day is that Brian and I will be married, and our friends and family will be there to celebrate.”
Wreath couldn’t help but smile at the sentiment. If only all her clients were this easy. “All right. Now about the music.”
Brian pulled his smartphone from his pocket and glanced at the screen. “It’s the jeweler. The groom’s gifts are ready. Why don’t I let you ladies sort out the music, and I’ll come back and pick you up later.”
He kissed Grace good-bye and left. The ladies went into the next room, where a piano and sound equipment were set up. Brides appreciated having a place to listen to the CDs or hear music played before making their decisions. Wreath laid out the CDs Grace had requested, plus a few suggestions of her own. “Have you thought about the tone you’d like to set for the first song? A hymn, a romantic ballad, or a solo?”
“I want the music to be reverent but joyful. We’re not being married in a church, but I want the church feel. My friend Paula has agreed to sing. We’re going to talk about the songs this weekend when she comes to town. I know I want, Pachelbel’s Canon in D, and some version of the Lord’s Prayer.”
Wreath pointed out the songs she thought would be appropriate and stepped away to give her time to listen. With Brian and Grace only in town for Thanksgiving week, they were trying to solidify as many details of the wedding as possible. Long-distance wedding planning was always a juggling act. Thankfully, Grace and Brian lived in New Orleans and were able to make weekend trips to Natchez. During the week they relied on tweets, texts, and video chats.
The biggest blessing with these clients was their easygoing approach to every challenge. Grace had never become irritated or angry at any of the many adjustments and changes that occurred.
Wreath glanced over at Grace, who was removing the headphones. Maybe this was a good time to ask the question that had plagued her for the ten months they’d been planning the wedding. “Grace, why are you so calm about this wedding? Most brides I assist are obsessed with every detail. They fly into a rage or burst into tears when things don’t go as planned.”
Grace smiled. “Obsessing over the details is a waste of time. I want the wedding to be romantic, to reflect our interests. That’s why I chose the antebellum theme. Brian and I love history. Brian is a reenactor. The hooped skirts and the uniforms reflect our interests and make it special. But the wedding is about us. Brian and me pledging our lives to one another in front of God. Saying those vows is a sacred covenant that we don’t take lightly. All the rest is just glitter.”
Wreath had never heard any of her brides comment on the vows. It was always about the dress and the napkins and the glitter. “That’s lovely, Grace. And I can honestly say this is the most enjoyable wedding I’ve ever planned.”
“I love everything you’re doing.” She gave her a hug. “It’s going to be beautiful.”
Wreath thought about Grace’s comment later that night as she prepared for bed. Micah Broussard’s unexpected presence in her life had stirred more memories of her failed wedding. It had been her fantasy wedding, held at Monmouth Plantation in the spring with the azaleas in bloom, the wisteria hanging in thick clumps over the pergola. The groomsmen were resplendent in historic uniforms, with gold braid, epaulets, and swords at their sides. The bridesmaids wore pink-and-white period gowns and wide-brimmed hats. Her dress was a vision in white alençon lace, tulle, and satin. It was still hanging in the storage closet at her shop, preserved for no reason. She’d simply been unable to let go of it. She still wanted that wedding someday.
She wanted to repeat those vows.
Wreath slipped under the covers. Grace had said they mattered more than anything else. She’d never considered that before. She could recite them by heart. She believed in the sanctity of marriage and the joining of man and woman according to God’s design. But she’d been too preoccupied with the wedding—the glitter—not the words she would say to her groom.
The groom who never showed.
She rolled over, hugging her pillow closer. But the best man had been there. Micah Broussard. He’d been the one who had taken charge, who had calmed the waters. She’d found out later from her maid of honor that he had acted as de facto host during the reception while her aunt had handled other details. Her mother had dissolved into tears. Wreath had been too numb to do more than sit in her elegantly appointed antebellum room in the main house and stare out the window.
Micah had been waiting when she’d finally changed from her gown and faced the few friends remaining. He’d driven her back to her aunt’s home, sitting silently behind the wheel while she struggled to make sense of what happened. He’d held her hand, squeezing it tightly in a gesture of comfort before she pulled away and ran inside to hide.
She hadn’t seen him again until today. Funny how she’d forgotten how kind and dependable he’d been. A true friend. Even her mother and her Aunt Julia had commented on his kindness.
How had she forgotten something so important?
Chapter 3
Thanksgiving Day dawned bright, clear, and cool, with no pressing business to intrude on Wreath’s holiday. She took advantage of the freedom to sleep late and indulge in a big pot of coffee. The last few days had been hectic. She’d put out fires for two stressed brides and handled a last-minute rescheduling of a sorority reunion brunch at Linden Hall. Next weekend she had a wedding at Dunleith, a brunch at the shop on Sunday afternoon, and meetings with a couple of new clients planning spring weddings. With the ongoing details for Grace and Brian’s antebellum event, her days were filled. She liked it that way. But she also liked the fact that, for the next few days at least, she had some time to herself.
Today she planned on hibernating in her cozy townhouse and shutting out the world. She would ignore the fact that it was Thanksgiving and she had no family to celebrate with. Normally she and Bonnie spent the day together, but this year her friend had gone home to Hattiesburg to be with her family.
As the day wore on, her mood downshifted from contentment and slid steeply toward an all-out pity party. Micah Broussard kept intruding into her thoughts, bringi
ng with him memories of the humiliation of her abandonment at the altar and the painful similarities between her wedding and Grace’s.
Disgusted with herself, she checked out restaurant sites online. Maybe treating herself to a Thanksgiving dinner later would lift her spirits. But the thought of dining alone was less appealing than eating a microwave turkey dinner. Micah’s invitation to dinner came to mind. He would be alone today, too. She’d turned him down because he’d reminded her too much of Jack. But now she regretted her selfish response. He’d reached out to her in friendship and she’d figuratively batted his hand away. Not the kind of Southern hospitality she wanted to convey.
She was still marveling at the change in him. Had his smile always been that unsettling? Had the twinkle in his blue eyes been so charming? The man he was today was disarmingly attractive. The kind of confident, self-assured man who would turn female heads. Females like her. She’d been unable to get him off her mind. She hadn’t thought to ask him if he was married, though she had noticed he wasn’t wearing a ring.
What did matter was that he was an old friend who might welcome a kindly gesture on a holiday. She reached for her phone only to have doubts crop up. Knowing Micah and his dedication to his job, he was probably working today, allowing the married employees to spend time with their families. And come to think of it, the restaurant at Monmouth served a gourmet Thanksgiving dinner, so he’d probably eat there. Which meant he wouldn’t be alone, so she could stop worrying.
Satisfied with her decision, she picked up the new DVD she’d bought of season two of her favorite detective series and wrestled off the clear plastic from the case. She had a rare day. She needed to take full advantage of it. There was no reason whatsoever to feel sorry for herself. The opening bars of “Hark! the Herald Angels Sing” pulled her attention to her phone and away from loading the DVD. She glanced at the screen. Micah. “Hello.”
“Happy Thanksgiving. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”
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