by Laura Moore
Ward could hardly miss his family’s collective consternation, but all he said was, “Let’s get back to the important topic here—Brian and Carrie.”
“Whom we love dearly and who will have a lovely, happy wedding—” Adele said brightly.
“Which might break our current rotten-nuptial streak,” Quinn interjected.
Adele ignored Quinn’s interruption. “Of course we’d be delighted to host the wedding here. Right, Daniel?”
“Brian’s grown into a fine man.”
His wife smiled. “Thanks in large part to you, darling,” she said.
Daniel shrugged easily. “I’d say we all helped Brian when he needed it most. So, when can they get back to us with a date?”
“Already did, Dad,” Ward said. “They’d like to have the wedding in June—this June.”
“What? That’s less than five months away,” Reid said.
Ward nodded.
A heavy silence descended. Tess might be new to the hotel business, but she’d had plenty of experience working for an events company. She knew how difficult it would be to organize a wedding in such a short period. She glanced over at Macie Paulsen, who was in charge of the special events for the ranch. The redhead was looking distinctly unwell, as if the goat’s milk cheesecake had turned to acid sludge in her stomach. Tess felt a spurt of sympathy for her.
Phil didn’t look much happier. He’d already pushed his plate out of the way and pulled his iPad closer, fingers skimming its sleek surface. “Which weekend?” he asked, staring at the illuminated screen.
“Brian mentioned the first one.”
Phil shook his head. “We’re already more than half-full. How big a wedding are they planning?”
“Maybe they want an intimate affair,” Adele said with a determined note of optimism.
“They’re up to a rough count of sixty guests but haven’t conferred with the mothers yet. Brian gave a ballpark figure of one hundred.”
Quinn snorted. “So much for breaking our rotten streak. Man, I really hate weddings.”
Adele looked at Ward with dismay. Then she turned to her husband, and the two exchanged one of those silent communications shared between long-married couples.
With a tiny nod to Daniel, she told them, “We’ll simply have to call the guests and ask them to rebook. Phil, please offer them a reduced rate for their troubles. And Macie, can you come up with a deluxe package to mollify them, a VIP tour of vineyards and some special spa treatments, perhaps? And you’ll have to call the Lodge in Ukiah and see if the Strikers are willing to reserve a block of rooms. Same with the Hugheses’ bed and breakfast and the Petersons’ place.”
“Uh, unfortunately I won’t be able to arrange all that.” Macie shifted in her seat. “I’m really sorry about this, Adele. I meant to approach you and Daniel first thing on Monday, I really did. It’s just that I’ve been offered a position at a resort in Oahu. Grant is really excited about moving to Hawaii. He’s pretty sure he can line up a ton of gigs playing at the resorts. And the surfing’s so great there. Anyway, they’ve asked me to start at the end of the month. I said yes. Grant found us a really cheap flight out there—but we have to go next week.”
No wonder Macie looked as if she wanted to cry.
Adele was silent and, though she was clearly thrown for a loop, Tess once again appreciated her new boss. If she’d been back at La Dolce Vita, Giorgio would be screaming at the top of his lungs. Perhaps throwing knives.
“I see.” Adele’s tone was measured. “This will require some adjustments on our part. We’ll be sorry to lose you, Macie. But if you could start making calls about what perks we can offer so at least we’ve made some headway, that would be helpful. Phil, can you crunch the numbers and see what kind of reduction we can give on rates for the guests we’re rebooking without it bankrupting us?”
“Okay.” Phil pushed back his chair and sent a harassed look Macie’s way. Her announcement must have caught him unaware, too. “Come on, Macie, let’s see what we can accomplish before you fly off to the land of luaus.”
There was silence until the two had left. Then Ward spoke.
“I’m sorry about all this. Obviously the timing’s lousy. But you know how much Brian and Carrie love this place.”
Adele waved off his apology. “Of course we do, darling. We’ll figure out a way to keep the guests who need to be rebooked happy. It’s too bad about Macie, though. She was good at her job.”
“We’ll need to find a replacement for her as soon as possible. But the real challenge will be organizing the wedding for Carrie and Brian. A wedding in early June requires someone working on it now,” Daniel said.
“More like yesterday.” Reid reached forward and swiped the last piece of cake from the platter.
Ward cleared his throat. “Mom, I know it’s a lot to ask, but would you be willing to handle the wedding details for Carrie?”
“Why—I—” Adele floundered, at a loss for words.
“Unfortunately, Ward, that’s not a feasible solution,” Daniel said. “I told your aunt Lucy today that your mom and I would go help her and Peter ready the inn for their grand opening. I promised we’d go down there for a couple of weeks. And then there’s the matter of a trip I’ve booked—”
Adele turned in her chair. “Oh, Daniel! Is it the one we discussed?”
“The tour of Andalusia?” He nodded. “Afterward we’ll spend a week in Minorca. I’ve rented a cottage for us—just the two of us. Happy Valentine’s Day, darling. I was planning to surprise you with it at dinner.”
Ward watched his mother throw her arms about his father’s neck with a cry of delight.
Damn, he thought. As soon as Brian and Carrie announced the early June date for their wedding and the high head count of guests, he’d known the logistics would prove tricky. But he hadn’t suspected the business would become even more complicated than it already was. Who’d have guessed that Macie would be offered a new job, and accept it, and leave them in the lurch with no replacement? Even then things might have been manageable had his mother been free to take over. But Ward couldn’t ask his parents to stay at the ranch simply so his mother could organize Carrie’s wedding. Aunt Lucy and Uncle Peter’s new inn was a family enterprise; a successful opening was key. Nor could he ask his parents to change their vacation plans, not when they’d spent so many years devoting themselves to making Silver Creek a premier guest ranch while simultaneously raising three kids. Their opportunities for private getaways had been rare.
But even the simplest of weddings—and destination weddings were never simple—required someone to coordinate the hundred and one details. Who else at Silver Creek could oversee them for Brian and Carrie? He glanced at his sister, who was sipping her coffee.
Quinn caught him eyeing her and lowered her cup to the table. “No way, José.” She shook her head hard enough for the tip of her ponytail to swat her shoulders. “Your lovely Valentine present notwithstanding, I am not your wedding planner girl. I don’t know the first thing about what goes into a wedding ceremony and I don’t care to, either. All that sentimental goo gives me the hives.”
No big news there, Ward thought. If there were a woman alive less interested in romance than Quinn, he’d be surprised. Her heart was too full of animals. She’d been five years old when she’d taken in her first stray, an injured bunny who’d escaped a predator’s maw. Now she was twenty-three, and the tally of adopted, rescued, and fostered animals she’d cared for had reached into the hundreds. Still, like everyone in the family, Quinn knew she was supposed to step up to the plate and pinch-hit when needed.
A little arm-twisting of his youngest sibling was in order, he decided. “Come on. It won’t be so bad. Brian’s like another brother to you—”
Her eyes narrowed to blue slits. “I will not bow to emotional blackmail or sexist assumptions that because I’m a female I’m the natural choice here. Since Brian’s not only like a brother to you but also your best friend, why don’t you spend the next few mo
nths listening to Carrie and Brian dither over invitations and whatnot—”
“Because I don’t—”
His mother interrupted. “Stop, both of you. Ward, you’re not thinking straight. Quinn would be about the worst person in the world to oversee this. Poor Carrie would never get the wedding of her dreams. And Quinn, there’s no reason to look so pleased with yourself. Brian and Carrie are your friends. I expect you to do everything you can to help pull off this event. But it’s obvious that neither you, Quinn, or Reid can take on the job of organizing things for Brian and Carrie when your father and I will be gone for so many weeks. The three of you will have even more responsibilities to manage, and handling the details of a wedding when the engaged couple is living on the other side of the continent is too time consuming. But I believe I have an answer to our problem—a brilliant one if I say so myself.”
Thank God. His mother had saved their collective butts. Brian and Carrie would get their California country wedding and he wouldn’t be forced to see to the details. “Really? That’s great, Mom.” He felt his face stretch in a wide grin.
She nodded. “Macie’s announcement took me by surprise, so the obvious solution didn’t immediately occur to me. The vision of a cottage in Minorca was pretty distracting, too,” she added with a smile for his dad. “But then, while you and Quinn were squabbling, it occurred to me. We already have someone who’s experienced at events planning.”
Quinn straightened. “We do?”
From her voice Ward could tell she’d been worried she hadn’t safely escaped being roped into wedding detail.
“We do,” his mother confirmed. “Tess, would you be willing to take over Macie’s position and handle the wedding details? And Ward, since Brian is your best friend, I think it’s only right that you be the one to help Tess with the planning.”
Ward sat stunned, silently marveling at his mother’s genius. She’d not only figured out a way to avoid disappointing Brian and Carrie, but by effectively ordering him to help Tess, she’d also figured out a way to ensure they spent a considerable amount of time together. Yeah, it was pretty clever of her. Damn his mother’s intuition and stubborn perseverance, he thought with an equal dose of irritation and amusement.
This was undoubtedly her latest attempt in her efforts to set him up with a woman. The campaign had started a few short months after his and Erica’s breakup. Adele had suddenly begun insisting he accompany her to various events in San Francisco or Sacramento where, like a magician pulling an extravagant bouquet from the depths of a top hat, she would produce some female Ward “simply must meet.”
To her annoyance he’d managed to resist the bevvy of marriageable beauties rounded up for his inspection. His mother’s disappointment when he explained that he didn’t want her matchmaking for him had been marked by pointed sighs and doleful glances. There, too, he’d resisted maternal pressure, refusing to whip out his iPhone and hurriedly dial one of those too-hastily-rejected women.
When none of her efforts bore fruit, his mother had switched tactics, dropping thinly veiled hints about how she and his father were getting old and how happy it would make them to see their children happily married. She was beginning to fear they would never experience the joy of grandchildren, of hearing the footsteps of little Knowles feet running through their home. From the way she carried on, she made it sound as if she and Ward’s dad had one foot in the grave when, in fact, they had more energy than most people half their age.
He’d believed she’d given up the campaign, but in a flash of insight realized that her less-than-subtle hints had been extinguished just about when Tess arrived.
Mom was the mistress of sly, all right. In Tess she’d found a woman he couldn’t either politely brush off, or bed and then politely brush off. Reid was the only guy he knew who possessed the extraordinary gift of being able to sleep with a woman, break things off, and still remain best of friends with her. Ward had no delusions about his own abilities. And obviously he’d still have to deal with Tess after he’d slept with her. Because even though he’d hardly spoken twenty words to her following the car debacle—Christ, he couldn’t figure out why her nose was still out of joint over the death of that smoking piece of crap—the thought of what she might be like in bed had crossed his mind a few times a day.
Just because he was no longer interested in getting hitched didn’t mean he’d taken a vow of celibacy. And he wasn’t blind, either. Tess’s dark eyes held secrets; her lush lips held promise. Sweet, mind-drugging promise. And her gloriously plump breasts were the softest he’d ever touched.
Clever, Mom. Real clever.
“Uh, Adele, I’m not sure this idea will work.”
Ward looked over at Tess. Thank God she’d made the objection. If it had come from him, his mother would have simply ignored him. She could be infuriatingly stubborn once she got the bit between her teeth—a trait Ms. Tess Casari shared. Tess’s brown eyes might remind him of rich espresso but the looks she sent his way were anything but warm.
“Really, Tess? Why?” his mother asked, with the perfect mix of surprise and confusion. “You’re detail-oriented and efficient. You have excellent style and taste and the good sense to know that neither has to cost an arm and a leg, which is crucial in planning a wedding. You couldn’t find a sweeter bride to work with than Carrie, but she’ll need guidance. I think you have the patience to help her and get the job done. And I thought you were interested in events planning. If things work out, we’d be happy to have you take over Macie’s position permanently.”
Ahh, the big carrot had been dangled, Ward thought.
“I’m sure this Carrie and Brian are both very nice people. And I would like to do events planning. It’s more that I haven’t really made a decision about how long I’ll stay in the area—”
No surprise there, Ward told himself. Tess Casari didn’t need to wear her absurdly high heels day in and day out to underscore that she didn’t belong here. He imagined that once she replaced her death trap of a car, she’d head for some city where she could saunter down wide, smoothly paved sidewalks and dazzle the male population with those killer legs of hers. Why that thought annoyed him as much as seeing that Reid had presented her with a bouquet of flowers he refused to analyze.
“Oh!” Adele was silent for a moment. “I thought you were enjoying being at Silver Creek. And during your interview you mentioned about wanting to work in events planning.” His mom wasn’t above laying a little guilt trip now and then. Of course she usually only subjected her family to them—which only showed how much she’d come to like Tess.
“I do like working here, and yes, I would like to do events planning. And I would love the opportunity to be in charge of events planning. But planning a wedding—”
The desperation in that single word caught Ward’s attention. Tess was very good at hiding her emotions—her cool dislike of him the exception—but, sharpening his gaze, he could detect the tension in the set of her shoulders.
Was it because she was still in mourning for her husband that she was resisting being in charge of planning a wedding? It was difficult to tell. Even if Ward hadn’t been intentionally keeping his distance, Tess was reserved. Private. He’d never heard her chattering on about her life the way some women did.
As if realizing she might have revealed too much by letting the word “wedding” dangle in the air, she hurriedly continued. “It’s just that I’m not sure I’m ready to handle all that a wedding involves on my own. I might not be up to the job.”
Ward wasn’t buying it. And from the expressions around the table, neither was the rest of his family. Tess might have been working as his mother’s assistant for only a little over a month but he’d already noted her efficiency and attention to detail. He knew, too, that if his mother didn’t believe Tess was capable of doing the job and doing it to Silver Creek’s high standards, she would never have suggested it. The reputation of their guest ranch—not to mention Brian’s and Carrie’s happiness—was t
oo important.
“As an events planner you need as much experience handling weddings as any other elaborate function, Tess.” His mother’s tone, eminently reasonable, was one Ward recognized. She employed it when she was determined to get her way. Few people could withstand it, not temperamental kitchen staff who sliced and diced with wickedly long knives, not brawny ranch hands who could rope and wrestle a full-ton steer to the ground, not beautiful, dark-eyed Italian women who walked with a mesmerizing roll of their hips on stiletto heels.
“Yes, I know that.”
“Good. Then you should take this one on,” his mother said. “Truly, this is the perfect wedding for you to cut your teeth on. Brian and Carrie couldn’t be more adorable.”
“Mom’s right. It’s highly doubtful that Carrie will morph into Bridezilla on you,” Reid offered.
Quinn nodded and got into the act. “Yeah, Carrie’s sweet. It’s her stepsister Erica you have to worry about. She’s something else—”
“Quinn,” was all their mother needed to say for his sister to shut her overactive mouth with an audible click of her teeth.
The look on Quinn’s face was too much. Christ, did his family really think the mere mention of Erica was enough to trigger a self-destructive bender? Hardly. He was just glad to have escaped the steel jaws of the matrimonial trap relatively unscathed.
“Tess, we know it’s a lot to ask, but we would be so grateful if you’d agree to take over for Macie and handle the wedding for Ward’s friends.” When his dad added his voice to the chorus, Ward actually felt a moment of pity for Tess. No way was she going to be able to withstand the concerted campaign.
“And between Macie’s files and mine, you’ll have a detailed list of all the merchants you’ll need to contact. And, of course, there’ll be Ward to help you every step of the way.” His mother graced the two of them with the brightest of smiles.
He wasn’t fooled. That smile told him in no uncertain terms that he’d be banished to the doghouse if he didn’t provide her protégé every assistance. He knew he should be irritated by this latest attempt to meddle in his life, but he figured this was a small price to pay in exchange for having a pretty terrific mother.