The Wedding Reject Table (Choc Lit) (Nashville Connections Book 2)

by Angela Britnell

  Maggie’s eyes shone. ‘Wow. You’re amazing.’

  Chad wished she wasn’t talking about his creativeness with smashed cake but for now would take what he could get. ‘All part of the service.’

  ‘Would eating lunch with Tonya and Great Aunt Audrey really have been worse than this?’

  I’d scrub the damn floor I’m standing on to be in here with you. Of course he didn’t dare be that honest. She expected light-hearted and that’s what he’d give her. For now. ‘Far worse. Between them they’d have eaten me alive.’

  ‘There’s still time. Why don’t you go out and join them while I finish icing these?’

  ‘Are you rejecting me too?’ Chad said with a rueful smile and Maggie opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out but a strangled breath. ‘I really hope not,’ he murmured and stared deep into her eyes. ‘You need to get back to icing.’

  ‘Yes.’ The reply came out automatically but she didn’t move.

  The kitchen door slammed back against the wall and Emily ran in. ‘You’d better get out here and do something with Fiona. She’s furious because there’s no cake on display yet and hasn’t bought my feeble explanation.’

  ‘I’m sorry but I’ve got to get this finished. You need to go back out and smooth things over. Usually you don’t find pulling the wool over people’s eyes a challenge,’ Maggie retorted, and Chad held his breath, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

  Chapter Five

  What was she thinking? Upsetting Emily was always a bad idea. Maggie had caught on to that as a small child and learned to tiptoe around her sister’s volatile temper. The phrase “mood swings” must’ve been created with Emily in mind. Their parents explained that Emily was “sensitive” but Maggie suspected her sister hadn’t liked her arrival one bit and behaved badly on purpose. After three years as an adored only child she’d made sure no one would overlook the family’s princess.

  ‘You’ll pay for this later,’ Emily hissed and left in a flurry of temper.

  Oh, I know I will.

  Maggie caught Chad staring at her with frank curiosity and swallowed hard.

  ‘Do you want me to help you get this display together?’ His soft, sympathetic words made her want to throw herself into his arms.

  Don’t be stupid. Maggie nodded, biting back tears. ‘I’ll ice the last half a dozen and then we’ll start.’ She stepped back to her table and tried in vain to ignore Chad’s quiet breathing behind her, so close she could’ve reached back and touched him. Five minutes and she was finished. ‘All done.’ She turned to face him, plastering on a tight smile.

  ‘What’s the plan, or isn’t there one?’ His mischievous question made Maggie laugh, unable to resist his easy good humour.

  ‘Why would you think I don’t have one?’

  Chad raised one black straight brow.

  ‘I did have a very detailed plan,’ she explained, ‘but it needs to be adjusted now.’

  ‘So I’d guessed and don’t bother suggesting I leave you to it either. You’re not throwing me back to the sharks at the Reject Table without being by my side to protect me.’

  Maggie tossed her hands up in the air. She’d never met such a persistent man. They must breed them stubborn in Tennessee. And flat out gorgeous. Even a red lacy apron couldn’t hide Chad Robertson’s easy, graceful masculinity. She’d never met a man before who could make her laugh, think and want to run her hands all over him in equal measure. Maggie was rapidly losing the battle against giving in to him.

  ‘I came across a couple of round mirrors when I was digging out all the glasses earlier. Do you think you could do something with them?’

  ‘Another great idea, Sherlock.’

  He dragged his piercing gaze shamelessly down over her and Maggie’s body lit up like a Christmas tree. ‘You sure don’t resemble any Holmes I’ve ever seen.’ His smooth drawl slid over her and made her want to listen to him forever. Forever? You’re losing your marbles. The effect of rescuing her best ever wedding cake from culinary manslaughter must have affected her brain.

  Chad wasn’t being fair to either of them, but couldn’t stop himself. Did she realise the effect she was having on him? Somehow he doubted it. Maggie seemed transparent and he suspected that what you saw was what you got. He found that beyond sexy.

  ‘Mirrors?’

  He mentally shook himself. ‘Yeah, sure.’ Chad strode away before he could behave even more stupidly. Not possible, bro. Josh’s laconic voice ran through his head. A pang of loneliness ran through him for his older brother. When he returned to Nashville maybe he’d reach out to Josh and if the friendly gesture was thrown back in his face at least he’d have tried.

  He hadn’t wanted to make this trip to Cornwall, but his grandmother insisted and he wasn’t brave enough to refuse Rose Ann Robertson. She was too old to travel and his parents had the family’s guitar business to take care of so he was dispatched to represent the Robertson side of Peter Carlisle’s family. Chad hadn’t been able to use the excuse of not being able to take time off work because his grandmother knew he’d wrapped up his latest contract negotiation and been urged by the firm to use the increasing number of vacation days owed to him. He’d made the foolish mistake of asking why Josh wasn’t being sent instead and received one of his grandmother’s withering glances. Her blunt reply was that Josh “doesn’t own a suit”, although they both knew there was far more to it than the lack of appropriate clothes.

  Now here he was scrabbling around in the storeroom of a small hotel in the wilds of Cornwall searching for mirrors to make a woman happy. Go figure.

  Chad lifted down the mirror he’d spotted earlier and discovered two others on the next shelf. Holding them carefully he returned to the kitchen. ‘There you go,’ he declared, instantly rewarded by another of Maggie’s glorious smiles.

  ‘Perfect.’

  Yeah, you’re pretty perfect too.

  ‘We’ll have to assemble it out there.’ Maggie sighed. ‘I’ll go and move the table into position then you can bring the largest mirror out first.’ She grinned. ‘You might want to take off the apron before you venture very far.’

  He put on a forlorn expression and lifted up the lace ruffle around the hem in pretend admiration. ‘I’ve become quite fond of this.’

  ‘If you’re good I’ll let you keep it as a souvenir of your first, and I’m guessing last, foray into the catering world.’

  There were so many replies he could make on a number of different levels but Chad contented himself with a broad smile. That did the trick because she laughed again and he enjoyed her unfettered pleasure in the moment. He untied the bow, slipped the apron up over his head and shook his hair back into place.

  Maggie’s heart flipped. She itched to run her fingers through Chad’s thick black hair, cut perfectly and gleaming under the florescent lights. If she hadn’t restrained her own mass of brown wavy hair in a tight bun this morning it’d be all over the place and already random strands were making a frizzy halo around her face. Before she could make even more of a fool of herself she stalked out of the kitchen, leaving Chad with a bemused expression.

  She made her way quietly along behind the guest tables to the back corner of the room and shook out the cloth she was carrying to spread over the circular table. Made of cream-coloured antique lace it had belonged to Fiona’s grandmother. Maggie smoothed out the top and made sure it was hanging evenly all around the bottom. Standing back up she caught Emily staring at her from across the room where she was refilling wineglasses. For a second she thought she saw a touch of sadness in her sister’s eyes and wondered what was behind it.

  ‘Here we go.’ Chad’s deep voice over her shoulder made Maggie jump. ‘Careful. We don’t need to add emergency room stitches to the list of today’s disasters.’

  She stood back and let him set the heavy mirror in place. For the next ten minutes they worked in companionable silence as Chad anticipated what she needed and Maggie couldn’t help wondering if he was the same
in all areas of his life.

  ‘Looks pretty damn good I’d say.’

  She examined it from every angle and couldn’t argue.

  ‘Wow!’

  Maggie glanced up at Fiona and almost wept with relief as a broad smile lit up her old friend’s face.

  ‘This is so unique. I’ve never seen this at a wedding before.’ Satisfaction oozed through her voice. ‘We’ll start a whole new trend.’

  Chad gave her a long slow wink behind Fiona’s back and it was all Maggie could do not to giggle.

  ‘When Emily told me you’d changed the cake I wasn’t convinced it was a good idea. In fact I got a tiny bit cross, even though you are my best friend.’

  A tiny bit cross wasn’t quite how her sister described Fiona’s meltdown but Maggie held her tongue.

  ‘But she talked up the idea so convincingly I gave in. She told me how brilliant you were and swore that you’d soon be the most sought after wedding cake creator in the country.’

  ‘She did?’ Maggie couldn’t hide her amazement.

  ‘She admires you so much. Emily said anybody could cook, but what you did was beyond special.’

  Was it stupid to believe for a single second that her sister might have meant what she said for once? Yes, it is, remember all the times she’s made a fool of you.

  ‘I love the whole thing,’ Fiona declared and flung her arms around Emily. Suddenly she let go and gave Chad a puzzled stare.

  Maggie didn’t know what to say as her friend glanced between the two of them, plainly trying to work out why he was hovering near them.

  ‘You sure are a beauty today.’ He treated her to his most charming smile and picked up Fiona’s hand, lifting it to his lips for a kiss. ‘Peter’s a lucky man.’

  Fiona turned traffic light red. Impossible to resist, isn’t he?

  ‘I hope you’re enjoying yourself?’ Fiona asked. ‘How are you getting on with everyone at your table? Peter’s mother wanted to put you with their other relatives but he was sure you’d prefer this. Maggie tried to convince me not to do the “singles table” thing but I don’t see anything wrong with it,’ she rattled on, ‘I met Peter at a friend’s wedding when we were seated together and we fell madly in love on the spot.’ Maggie winced and sneaked a quick glance at Chad. Amusement lurked in his eyes and she held her breath, pretty sure he wouldn’t divulge the secret about how he’d actually been spending his time.

  ‘Everyone’s been amazing,’ he declared with another broad grin. ‘I saw Maggie struggling with a heavy mirror and came over to give her a hand. I’d better return to my seat. Don’t want to miss the speeches.’ With a nod to them both he left.

  Anyone would think he couldn’t wait to be bored to death. Maggie decided Chad Robertson was an expert dissembler. She’d do well to remember that.

  Chapter Six

  Finally he had no choice. The Reject Table it was, for better or worse. He’d have to leave tracking Maggie down again until later. A minute ago she hadn’t been sure what he would say in front of Fiona and Chad wanted more than anything to convince her to trust him. Why? What’re you going to do about it? Nothing. The problem was timing.

  He’d read somewhere once that finding true love was all a question of timing. It had to be right on both sides for a long-term relationship to stand a chance of working. Up until now he’d always been the one dragging his heels as his failure to sustain anything long-term proved. He wasn’t sure why he was that way but suspected being surrounded by long, good marriages on both sides of his family had made him afraid of screwing up the Robertson track record. Six months seemed to be the point when women started making plans for Christmas or vacations together and he automatically got scared and wanted out.

  You’d happily sit around a Christmas tree with Maggie or fly her off for a week’s fun on a sun-drenched exotic beach. Admit it.

  Thinking of Maggie in a skimpy bikini, something sapphire-blue and clinging, wasn’t smart and Chad contemplated a vacation to the Antarctic instead to cool himself down.

  ‘Well, if it isn’t our missing guest.’

  He stopped, surprised to find himself standing next to his assigned table without any memory of getting there. Chad automatically smiled at the blonde pouting her blood-red lips in his direction and launched into an abject apology. He introduced himself to everyone else, mentally taking notes to repeat to Maggie later. If she gives you the chance.

  Tonya – blonde divorcee looking for husband number three. Great Aunt Audrey – disapproving of the behaviour of modern young people and not afraid to say so. Peregrine Worthing – pale-faced organist wearing a well-worn corduroy jacket and tweed slacks. Two giggling girlfriends of the bride – one named Pippa and the other Pansy – for the life of him Chad couldn’t tell them apart.

  ‘Come and sit down and tell us your story.’ Tonya patted the chair next to her, tossing her hair in what Chad was no doubt supposed to consider a sexy way. He gave her one of his patent smiles and settled himself down.

  This woman didn’t realise she was up against an expert. Any man who could successfully deflect Elizabeth ‘Sunny’ Donelson was no lightweight. The Nashville socialite had considered her outrageous bid of $50,000 at the bachelor auction entitled her to far more than his agreed to evening out on the town. Not even for the Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital would he do some of the things she’d suggested but he’d managed to turn her down in such a way that they’d enjoyed the evening and were now firm friends.

  ‘I’d much rather hear about you,’ he murmured. Chad could be kind without encouraging her the wrong way, it wouldn’t kill him. Tonya launched into a diatribe about her ex-husbands and he itched to tell her to stop. Nothing was less enticing to a man than hearing the rest of his sex trashed. ‘Tell me what I should see while I’m here. I only came a couple of days ago and I’ve got until next Wednesday to explore Cornwall.’ As soon as the words were out he regretted them. If she offered to show him around he’d better come up with an excuse and pronto. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else on the spur of the moment to change the track of the conversation.

  ‘It’s the dullest place on the planet,’ she sniped, ‘I’m moving back to London as soon as I can sell my house. You’d be better off spending your time in London rather than this dump.’

  He exhaled a silent sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to be offered a tour guide. Someone poked his arm and Chad turned towards the elderly lady on his left.

  ‘Don’t listen to her,’ she commanded. ‘The girl hasn’t a whit of sense. She’s proved that with the brainless idiots she married.’ Tonya started to protest but was silenced with a withering glance. ‘Do you have any interest in Celtic history or gardens or literature?’ Her perceptive gaze swept over him. ‘Or are you another empty-headed Yank with more money than sense?’

  Chad was too amused by her blunt manner to be offended. Audrey would give his own sharp-tongued grandmother a run for her money. ‘I’m pretty sure I’ve a fair amount of both, ma’am,’ he drawled. ‘As well as my law degree I also have an art degree. Early twentieth century English design, in particular ceramics, is my specialty. I’ve inherited my mother’s love of gardening, I practise music rights law and run a sub-four hour marathon.’ Touche. A tinge of colour flushed her papery skin and Chad didn’t regret a word. If he’d been humble and modest Audrey would’ve chewed him up and spat him out.

  Everyone else around the table joined in the conversation and suggestions flew around until he had enough things to do in Cornwall to keep him busy from now until he turned ninety. As he was finding out more about the Eden Project from Pansy, or maybe it was Pippa, someone banged a gong and called for quiet.

  Chad scanned the room for Maggie and smiled as he spotted her, cake knife in hand, by the famous wedding cake. He caught her eye and winked.

  ‘Don’t you dare mess Maggie around.’ Audrey turned from pleasant to fierce in one second.

  ‘I didn’t realise you two were related?’ In other words,
mind your own business.

  ‘Watch your tongue, young man. Maggie is my god-daughter and she and Fiona grew up almost like sisters, more so than that whippet of a girl prancing around with the food today.’ Emily’s not your favourite person? ‘She hasn’t had an easy life and doesn’t need you flashing your far-too-white teeth at her in that wolfish smile.’ Wolfish smile?

  ‘I admire Maggie very much and “messing around” isn’t on my agenda,’ he spoke firmly, holding the old woman’s stare until she blinked first. ‘If you don’t mind I’d prefer to concentrate on the speeches now.’ Chad turned away. Her piqued expression made it clear he’d irritated her but she could hardly condemn him for displaying good manners. One point to him.

  Maggie hated being so aware of Chad. Ever since she came out of the kitchen to help with the cake-cutting she’d tried not to stare in his direction. Seeing his head bent close to Tonya and watching him laugh had annoyed her no end but then he’d got the whole table talking until they were obviously having more fun than everyone else in the room. He even charmed Great Aunt Audrey into smiling more than once. The Chad-named Reject Table was obviously a million miles from the usual pitiful place.

  Fiona’s father stood up to make his speech and after a minute or two Maggie was biting back tears. Childhood memories flooded back as Mr Jennings told stories about his only daughter, many of which featured Maggie too. She glanced at Chad and he met her eyes, his sympathetic smile helped her to suck in a calming breath as Mr Jennings finished and sat back down. The groom came next and emotion overwhelmed her again as Peter spoke eloquently about his love for his new wife. Maggie didn’t want to be a jealous cow, but couldn’t help wondering if any man would ever declare her to be the centre of his world. She stared down at her feet, incongruously deciding she really needed a new pair of shoes. While Peter finished and Jack, the best man, started his speech, she continued to focus on the floor.

  ‘Now Fiona and Peter will cut the cake. Word of warning, mate, be careful of women with sharp knives,’ Jack teased and Maggie snapped to, realising she needed to stop moping.