Sunnyside Christmas

by Jacie Floyd

  “That’s what you need.” Why hadn’t he said so? This she could handle, hangover or not. Her brain kicked into gear. “What time is the dinner? Where will it be? How many people? You say there’s a truck with the food prep, ingredients, and supplies? Is there a sous chef and assistant? What about wait staff?”

  Liam slipped his hand over her mouth again. “One question at a time, but first you should tell Zach if you’re willing to do it or not and if you have any stipulations.”

  Zach radiated tension beside her. “It’s asking a lot.”

  “It’s not asking a lot.” She enveloped her old friend in a hug. “I’ll do it.” She jumped up. “Let me shower and change. Then you can point me in the right direction, and I’ll get started on your dinner.”

  “What else will you need?” Liam asked. “We can ask Lenore and Tyrell to help if you want.”

  “Can you have them on standby? I won’t know who or what I’ll need until I look over the event notes and talk to the Chicago team.”

  “While you shower, we’ll call the chef’s assistant and have her prepare to meet with you whenever you’re ready. Her teeth were chattering at being thrown into this project without a life jacket.”

  Jillian patted his arm. “Everything will be fine.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because this is what I do, and no matter what other crazy, weird, or disastrous thing is going on in my life, I can put out a meal on a moment’s notice that will knock your socks off.”

  Gladys’s Tea Room gleamed like a box of jewels. If it had looked this good when it was open for business, it might never have closed. Except that Gladys had died with no heirs, and no one in town had been interested in taking it over.

  But it was a darling little forgotten Victorian place with lots of original details and buckets of charm. When Harper’s mother had spied it, right off the town square, she’d put it on a short-term lease, spruced it up, replaced the stove and refrigerator, and claimed it for the sole purpose of hosting the rehearsal dinner.

  India, Fiona, and the fancy wedding planner had decorated the place in Harper’s jewel-tone colors. The tables had been set, the bar stocked, the various food stations had been assembled, and presiding over the kitchen was like being back home for Jillian.

  Once the sous chef, Mara, had her nerves under control, her efforts had been acceptable. Mara’s line chef, Paulo, had been efficient and agreeable. Lenore had jumped in with both feet to keep things moving, and Tyrell had been honored to be included.

  After five straight hours of cooking, Jillian’s back and soles burned with the fire of a thousand bee stings, but that was par for the course. She bowed her spine in and out, stood on one foot and then the other, and otherwise, ignored the pain.

  In the dark suit he’d worn for her father’s funeral and looking so desirable Jillian almost drooled, Liam appeared in the back entrance. “Rehearsal’s over,” he said, tugging on his necktie. “They’re on their way. Is everything ready?”

  “Yep, ready,” she said. “The wait staff will present the appetizers when the first guest comes through the front door.”

  He nodded and turned to leave but stopped. “It smells great.”

  “Thanks. How’d the rehearsal go?”

  “It went fine, but why is a rehearsal necessary? It’s probably just another way for the wedding industry to churn more money.”

  “Since this wedding’s brought in a lot of money for Sunnyside, we’re grateful for the wedding industry this week,” Jillian reminded him.

  “Yeah, right. I just slipped in to give you a head’s up. I’ll go around front to join the wedding party. See you inside.”

  “Oh, no, not me. I’ll be back here.” Jillian wasn’t a member of the wedding party, she wasn’t invited to the dinner, and she wasn’t dressed for it. It was her job to keep things flowing in the kitchen and focus her attention on the Pasta Carbonara, the centerpiece of the meal. She had no intention of joining the guests at the dinner.

  Although it was the wedding planner’s job to stay on top of the event, it was Jillian’s attention to detail that ensured the food service went smoothly. She couldn’t rest until after the hors d’oeuvres, salad, and main course were served and cleared. Thankfully, the desserts were someone else’s responsibility.

  When the main course finally went to the tables, relief washed through her, and her thrown-together staff relaxed. “Thank you all,” she said. “We turned this potential train-wreck into a rousing success. Stay on duty through this course, then fix yourselves plates as soon as we’re clear. You deserve a break before we start the clean-up.”

  Liam barged his way into the kitchen, wrapped his arms around her and rocked her back and forth. “My God, you can cook,” he said. “That was the best meal I’ve ever had.”

  She blushed from the contact but didn’t deserve the compliment. “Thanks, but credit goes to the elusive Mikhail, remember?”

  “This was better than when he makes it,” Mara said from her station. “I tried to observe your techniques, but I couldn’t see what you did differently.”

  “She’s got the touch,” Liam said. “Always has had.”

  “Stop it,” she said. “I just followed Mikhail’s instructions.”

  “Stop objecting and learn to take a compliment,” Liam said.

  “It was amazing,” Tyrell said. “I’m glad I got to see you do your thing.”

  “Everyone’s good at something,” Lenore said, which was the closest thing to praise Jillian had ever had from her.

  Liam dropped a kiss on her cheek and returned to the party.

  When he was out of earshot, Mara fanned her face with her hand. “Wow. He’s hot.”

  Next, the wedding planner stuck her head in the kitchen. “Well done, everyone. They’re raving about your food. Can you set aside a plate of Carbonara for me? Liam said it was outstanding.”

  “Sure thing.” Jillian squelched the twinge of jealousy at the intimate way the woman said his name.

  And then India and Harper came in and wrapped her in a hug. “You saved the day,” India said. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “It was a team effort,” Jillian countered. “Your chef had it all planned. Mara, Paulo, Lenore, and Tyrell worked it out.”

  “We appreciate their efforts,” Harper said. “I hated for Zach to impose on you, but I’m happy he did.”

  “Me, too,” Jillian agreed. “It was a pleasure to be able to do something for him.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t have to give him a kidney,” Harper said. “I hear you offered him one.”

  She wiped fake sweat off her brow. “I’m off the hook for that.” As if every resident of Sunnyside wouldn’t line up to give him whatever body part he needed.

  “But now I’m going to owe you,” Harper said. “Zach said he didn’t mention payment, but we’ll work out the bill later.”

  “Don’t,” Jillian said. “Friends help each other out. This was my gift to you.” By the time Harper and India returned to the party, Jillian felt like they really were friends.

  Liam returned after that. If he spent any more time in the kitchen tonight, she’d have to put him on the payroll. “Zach wants you to join us.”

  “I can’t.” She looked down at her splattered chef’s jacket, sturdy pants, and Crocs. “I’m not dressed for it. It’s not appropriate. There’s no need.”

  He stopped her with a jab of his finger. “I’m Zach’s best man and he asked for you. Come out voluntarily in five minutes, or I’m coming back to force the issue.”

  Taking a few minutes to gather her thoughts and composure, she tidied her hair, washed her face, and shrugged into a fresh jacket. When she slipped into the dining room, the tiramisu, panna cotta, and cannoli from the local bakery were being distributed.

  Liam stood tall talking to the three Novak men in a corner. Grady flirted with Fiona but kept an eye on Rachel. Harper’s step-father signed autographs for the wait staff, while India
conferred with the wedding planner. Harper’s friend Nathan hung about the bar chatting with the cute bartender from The Lucky Dog. Harper’s biological father and other relatives clustered about her.

  As Jillian tried to hide in a corner seat farthest from the head table, Liam looked up. Frowning, he came over and gripped her elbow. Chairs had been rearranged at the head table with a place cleared for her next to him.

  Others resumed their seats and clinked spoons against their glasses. With dramatic flair, Zach stood to oblige the crowd. He helped Harper to her feet, bent her over his arm and kissed her Hollywood-style. When they resurfaced, Harper gasped for breath and feigned a swoon as the crowd cheered. The groom-to-be remained standing when she dropped to her seat.

  “Thank you all for being here, on this, the night before the happiest day of our lives. Of mine, anyway. I hope Harper agrees.” He looked a question at the bride-to-be.

  She nodded and smiled. “Mine, too.”

  “Some people”—he shot a glance at Liam— “questioned the need for a wedding rehearsal. I mean, we all know the drill, right? But it brings home the gravity of what’s about to happen, gives the couple pause in case anyone has second thoughts.” Again, he quirked an eyebrow at Harper, and she shook her head.

  “I am what I am because of Sunnyside. That’s the theme of my reception speech for tomorrow so pretend to be surprised, but tonight, I want to mention that any annoying personality traits I may have, I developed all on my own.” He strolled down the table, heaping praise on the people who had guided him, led him, and supported him through the years. Zach being Zach, he gave touching declarations with hugs and amusing anecdotes about everyone from his father, to his brother and sister, to Liam, Grady, and Jimbo.

  “And then there’s Jillian.” Her head jerked up and she wanted to object loudly, but Zach placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. “She ran with me, Grady, Jimbo, and Liam often enough to get herself into a bit of trouble now and again, sometimes being the voice of reason and sometimes urging us on to greater mischief. We missed her in the last few years as she went off to seek fame and glory, but today when I needed help, she didn’t hesitate to step in with her world-class skills. To Jillian, tonight’s chef. Wasn’t she amazing?”

  Everyone cheered and toasted her name. She blushed as she basked in their approval. Looking around for her dad, her heart dipped when she remembered that he wasn’t there. And why. But maybe he was here in spirit. He enjoyed a good party, had loved Zach like a son, encouraged him along the way, and would have been proud of Jillian for helping today.

  After Zach enveloped her in a big hug, he moved on down the line to salute Harper’s family. Jillian tried to slip away, but Liam’s hand clamped around her knee and held her in place.

  Chapter Twelve

  In the late Saturday afternoon, a cloudy mist hovered over the imposing library and gazebo. The setting glowed like a magical kingdom in an impressionist painting.

  Harper’s idea of holding the wedding and reception here had been brilliant. The wedding planners had lined the main path to the entrance with buckets of flowers draped in tulle and fairy lights. The beautiful old Classical Revival building made an enchanting statement, enhanced with the rich tones of the wedding décor.

  At the main entrance, the former librarian, Myrna Hooper greeted the guests, handed out the programs, and directed them to the spacious north reading room where the ceremony would be held. The library tables had been removed and replaced with rows of white folding chairs. Lush pots of plants and flowers decorated the nooks and crannies.

  Since the mayor was officiating, Jillian accepted a seat beside his wife. On Claire’s opposite side, Barb Gentry sniffed as Jillian gave them subdued greetings. She hadn’t seen the councilwoman since the wake, but the woman apparently hadn’t warmed up to the idea of Jillian’s return one iota in the intervening three weeks.

  With the start of the music, Zach and the guys entered from the adjoining reading room, lining up before the large Palladian windows and decorative arch that dominated the front of the room. He looked gorgeous, with not a thread or hair out of place. A little keyed up, but more excited than anxious.

  Jillian didn’t want to look at Liam, but her eyes were drawn to him like waves to the shore. Personal opinion, but if Zach was the epitome of the happy magazine-cover groom, Liam took the prize for Best-looking Best Man Ever. Tense enough to be snapped in two, but then, Liam was always braced for someone to object to his presence. Jillian sent him mental messages, willing him to relax. Zach wanted Liam here today, so here Liam would stay. Josh, Grady, and Jimbo completed the line-up of groomsmen.

  The processional began, and the bride’s attendants entered from the former card catalog room. Susannah, Rachel, Nathan, and Fiona. Nathan dew a few gasps from the more conservative wedding guests, but he carried off his unorthodox role with panache.

  When they were all in place, Harper and her biological father, a handsome reserved cardiologist from out east, descended the sweeping staircase in the main lobby. He brought her down the steps and into the central reading room where the charismatic Wex Wilde waited to escort her down the aisle. Harper kissed her father’s cheek, accepted Wex’s arm, and smiled at her groom.

  Mick officiated perfectly. The personally written vows brought a lump to Jillian’s throat. She half-expected blue birds and woodland creatures to lift Harper’s veil and train as the Disney-perfect couple danced out of the reading room. Right behind them, Fiona and Liam drew Jillian’s attention. Talk about a stunning couple. Jillian refused to let herself be jealous of Fiona’s dramatic good looks and grip on Liam’s arm.

  The guests were shepherded to the second floor to enjoy drinks and hors d’oeuvres. A string quartet provided background music while photographs were taken, and the lower level was transformed into a dining space with candles and lanterns.

  When the guests were seated for dinner, Jillian chastised herself for keeping an eye out for Liam. She couldn’t believe how fixated she’d gotten on him in just a few weeks. What was she thinking? Was she thinking of how he’d hurt her twelve years ago? Was she thinking of the national scandal he’d created? Was she thinking of money he’d misappropriated and the people that had been harmed? No.

  She was thinking of the way he’d kissed her on Thursday. Of the way he’d taken care of her on Thanksgiving. Of the way he’d warned—promised?—her that sex between them wasn’t off the table. That couldn’t be good. Or right. Or sensible, but the possibility haunted her.

  She’d relished her assignment for the rehearsal because cooking held her full attention. During any other activity, her attention wandered. Like now, during the introduction of the wedding party, a welcome speech from Zach, and his first dance with Harper. Her thoughts turned again and again to the fit of Liam’s tux. The tousled appeal of his hair. The allure of his smile. The sensual pull of his body. The tease of the occasional glances that caressed her from a distance.

  Fanning her face with the program, Jillian forced herself to look away and accept the offer of tea from a server at her elbow.

  “Doesn’t Zach look happy?” Clare asked. “It was a beautiful wedding. You did a wonderful job with the vows,” she told her husband as he slipped into the seat beside her.

  “It was an honor to participate,” he said. “But what I really like is how they incorporated so many of the townspeople into the event.”

  “This wedding’s been a real shot in the arm for the Sunnyside economy,” Barb said. “Harper’s parents spared no expense.”

  “They’re lavishing money everywhere,” Lenore noted. “As if they can pay the town to like Harper.”

  Mick frowned. “That’s not fair. We do like Harper.”

  “Not everyone,” Lenore murmured. “She’s still pretty much the outsider.”

  “I haven’t seen any evidence of that,” Jillian said.

  “You wouldn’t while they’re taking her money,” Barb said. “But the low level of resentment might return when the
money stops flowing.”

  “Why is there resentment? She’s so nice, seems crazy about Zach, and even Myrna Hooper gives her credit for turning the library around.”

  “Some people resent her just because she isn’t from here.” Clare’s voice was inflection free, but she spoke from personal experience. The mayor laid a comforting hand on her arm and the glance they exchanged spoke volumes.

  “I thought Andrew Berkman planned to attend.” Mick looked around. “I was hoping to finally meet him in person.”

  “Who?” Jillian asked.

  “The billionaire who funded our Library grant,” Cora Feller said, in her wavery voice. “I believe an emergency meeting came up for him in China and he had to cancel.”

  “Where’d you hear that?” Mick asked.

  “I overheard Harper telling her mother about it this morning.” Cora turned to thank a young man serving her entrée. “Did you notice they hired a bunch of people as waiters and stagers and such? Aren’t they doing a wonderful job?”

  “If Sunnyside could have a wedding of this magnitude every month, we’d be on much firmer financial ground,” the mayor said with a speaking glance at Jillian.

  “I’ve read about some small towns turning themselves into wedding destinations,” Claire said. “Their whole economy revolves around the wedding industry.”

  Jillian considered the idea. In the spring and fall, Sunnyside had some stunning views that could be used as wedding venues, but the weather in the other seasons wasn’t dependable enough for that to work. “That seems unlikely.”

  “Towns like that usually have some sort of feature like a waterfall, a notable chapel, romantic legend, or something that makes them uniquely suitable for a wedding site,” the mayor observed. “What do we have in Sunnyside we can use to draw other people in?”