Yet this dark pit in her stomach was telling her everything was not okay. And not just today. This nagging, gnawing feeling had been growing inside of her for a while now, but she had just kept herself too busy to have to think about it.
Until now, when there was nothing to do but wait.
Oh, she was being ridiculous. Blowing things out of proportion, as Graham would say.
All brides get nervous. That’s what everyone kept telling her for the last month. Anytime she even started to bring up her reservations that maybe, just maybe, it was too soon for her and Graham to settle down.
“It’s totally normal to have wedding jitters,” yet another well-meaning friend would assure her, followed by, “Oh my God, I’m SO excited for you!”
Tessa never even had the chance to say the next part. Deep down inside, she wasn’t thinking of postponing the wedding. She was thinking maybe there should be no wedding.
She and Graham had been going through a rough patch lately. This, too, was par for the course, everyone assured her. It was normal to question whether they were ready for a lifelong commitment, especially as the big day drew nearer. The problem was she was questioning not whether they were ready, but whether Graham was ready.
Whatever fears she had obviously couldn’t be that big of a deal because here she was, dressed in an off-the-shoulder satin gown with her best friends waiting for her to walk down the aisle. She just had to remember to keep calm and remember to say “I do.”
Julie, wedding planner and superwoman, swept across the foyer toward her. “You look incredible!”
Tessa blinked back at her. “Umm . . . so do you . . .”
The usually unshakable woman was walking too fast, talking in a blur and she sparkled. Not in a happy flush sort of way, though her cheeks were pink with color. No, Julie looked like she had been doused in, could be it, silver glitter?
“What happened to you?” Tessa asked.
Julie smoothed a hand through her hair in an unsuccessful attempt to tame it. “What do you mean?”
“Is everything all right?”
“Of course!” she assured, a bit too effusively. “Everything is going to be just fine.”
This wasn’t the first time Tess had needed Julie to talk her off the proverbial ledge. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly; a challenge in the form-fitting dress. Julie was meticulous, organized, and completely in control, but something was definitely off about her. Aside from the glitter, she was working too hard to hold on to that cat-that-ate-the-canary smile.
Tessa’s dad had given her some advice the first time he’d taken her on a plane. She was five at the time and absolutely terrified. They shut the doors and she started crying even before the wheels started rolling. Dad had calmed her down by telling her just to keep an eye on the stewardesses.
“They’re pros, honey. They do this every day, so if they don’t look nervous, you have nothing to worry about.”
Dad was a road warrior, which accounted for his last-minute cancellation on her wedding. The thought of him not being there to walk her down the aisle was upsetting, but she was determined not to let that one setback ruin her wedding day.
Little did she know that it would be the first setback in an ongoing chain.
Julie Winters was a pro. Julie had her act together and had been a lifesaver time and again over the last month. But the wedding planner was flustered right now. She was more than flustered; she was flummoxed.
Tessa held on tight to her last thread of sanity. “Have you seen my sister?”
“She’s not here with you?” Julie’s voice trailed away as she looked around the foyer.
“I haven’t seen her for a while now.”
Her sister had disappeared shortly after a quick promise to grab coffee. The coffee had never come and Renata was missing as well. They’d already had to push off pictures from the bride’s side until after the ceremony. Tessa wrung the bouquet tighter.
“She’s probably in the ladies’ room,” Julie piped up with a pleasant smile before rushing off, heels clicking furiously.
Tessa was by herself once more, waiting to take her first step down the aisle.
She was panicking. This was so very un-Tessa of her. She had remained relatively calm through all of the wedding preparations. Even when she and Graham had “needed to talk” a little while back, she had barely raised her voice. It was a good thing, too. They were able to smooth things out and the wedding moved forward as planned.
“As long as there’s you, me, and cake, we’re good,” she had told Graham affectionately a few days ago.
He’d smiled at her.
Well, she didn’t see him smile. They had been talking over the phone. But most of their conversations had been over the phone lately with his busy travel schedule. Not that she’d had a lot of free time either until the summer had started. She had planned the wedding in between grading essays and running after-school tutoring sessions.
So Tessa had imagined the smile on Graham’s face that night even though he was in a hotel two states away. He had told her everything would be fine with that confident tone of his. It had reassured her. Somewhat.
She needed to see Graham, that was all. There was no taboo against the bride seeing the groom before the wedding. Just vice versa. A glimpse of her soon-to-be-hubby would set her head straight. She pulled the door open just a crack to peer out into the garden.
The gazebo where the vows were to take place had been decorated with vines of flowers and blue tulle. Guests were seated on both sides of the aisle and the notorious Uncle Seth was leading Aunt Bea to her chair. The dear old woman was already sniffling loudly. A couple of Tessa’s teacher buddies from the high school sat clustered in the back.
The altar stood conspicuously empty.
The part of her that was sensible and accepting and laughed everything off told her that Graham and his best man had merely stepped away for a moment. The voice of doubt, on the other hand, the voice that had been silenced for so long, started shouting. The butterflies in her stomach grew into big, flapping mutant bats.
Her sister was nowhere to be found. Even dependable Max, the longtime friend whom she’d asked to officiate her wedding, wasn’t in his place. Tessa needed to get some air before she passed out.
Everybody had abandoned this wedding but her.
Chapter Two
Andy pulled the catering van toward the back of Briarwood Manor and killed the ignition. This had to be the building. It was the only place for miles.
He glanced at his cell. Three more texts from the wedding planner. The things seemed to be coming in delayed with the mountains all around blocking the signal. He didn’t need to check the messages; he knew the gist of them:
Just wondering where you are.
Any time now.
Where the heck are you?!?!
First real break he’d had in a long time and he was an hour late. It was perfect. Just perfect.
Andy hopped out of the van and set himself in motion. If for no other reason than pride alone, he was going to do this. He was going to make this happen. Otherwise he’d never hear the end of it from Dad or his brother come Sunday dinner.
“You’re a cook, not a caterer,” his father had said last weekend, both snide and amused at this latest venture.
And a cook at that, not a chef. The distinction didn’t need to be spoken out loud in order to ring clear across the dining room table.
“Sounds like a challenge,” Michael had said. “Let me know if you need any help.”
On the surface, it might have sounded like a magnanimous offer to his baby brother given Michael’s vast professional experience and busy schedule. In truth Michael’s generosity was nearly as bad as Dad’s patronizing. Here was Andy, off in the clouds instead of rolling up his sleeves and doing some real work.
He’d been
rolling up his sleeves and working in the family restaurant since he was nine. If he didn’t strike out on his own, the next Ottavio kitchen yelling match would turn into a fist fight. And then a knife fight.
Mom, bless her, proceeded to rave about how wonderful the wine tasted. Wine was neutral territory.
“I got this,” Andy had replied curtly, shoving something, anything into his mouth to end the matter.
Small wedding party, remote location. Bride’s request: Not another rubber-chicken buffet. Of course he had it. This was supposed to be a chance to make some money, but, more importantly, it was a new start. He could see if he liked it, gain some contacts, perhaps even line up a few jobs in the future.
The bride had been too busy to even do a tasting, putting her trust in the wedding planner. Luckily Julie was a friend who was willing to refer him.
The client’s name had been given to him as Underwood-Downing. Andy couldn’t recall who came first in these things, bride or groom, but both of them sounded classy. Like you could stick them onto an old English castle. Not that you could tell that much from a name, but the wedding location was a pricey one and he assumed the affair would be upscale. He’d even spent a few extra bucks to send his jacket to the cleaner to be starched and pressed.
Showing up late, however, was no way to make a good impression, no matter how crisp his chef’s coat looked. The next hour was going to be a push to get the food out for the reception. According to the itinerary Julie had sent him, the ceremony was supposed to be starting just about now, which meant he had less than thirty minutes to get everything set up.
Speak of the devil. Julie came rushing out of the building in full wedding-planner mode, ready to tame lions.
“Finally!” she said with a long-suffering sigh.
“Fort Bend Road,” he said dryly. “Not Bend Fort.”
She hit him with the evil eye and kept on walking. Was it just him, or did Julie look kind of shiny?
“Hey, are there a few spare hands to help me out here?”
Julie had assured him the place would be fully staffed, but she was already too far to answer; a woman on a mission.
It would be fine. He’d get into the kitchen. Set up cold appetizers as a first line of defense. Hopefully there was enough alcohol to tide everyone over while he set up the hot apps. He’d already prepped the entrée, which was being kept to temperature in the warmers in the catering van.
Tugging the back doors open, Andy had just unloaded a serving cart onto the ground when a white blur shot out of Briarwood, clutching a bouquet of flowers.
The bride.
It had to be the bride who disappeared around the opposite side of the van. He heard the sound of the driver’s door opening then closing. Ho-ly hell. He so didn’t have time for this.
By the time Andy came around, she was fiddling with the ignition.
“Hi,” he greeted through the open window, at a loss for something more clever to say. This was something that only happened in the movies and soap operas.
There was a determined set to her jaw as she searched around the steering wheel. “Where are the keys?”
“Uh . . .”
She turned to look at him and Andy was stricken by a set of not-quite-brown, not-quite-green eyes along with dark hair that looked barely tamed, even when pinned up.
“I am not freaking out,” she insisted preemptively.
“Okay.”
“Give me the keys. I just need some space.” When he didn’t respond, she made one final appeal, “Please.”
If she had been crying, if she had been hysterical, he would’ve certainly tried to talk her out of his van. Maybe call for backup from someone inside.
Between his mother and younger sister, Andy had plenty of experience with emotional outbursts. Heck, it wasn’t fair to limit it to the women of the family. The men were twice as hot-headed. In contrast, the bride was trying to keep a semblance of calm. Other than a bit of color that dotted her cheeks, she was focused inward, absorbed with this one task as if it was the most important thing in the world.
He hated seeing her like this. She was the bride, for crying out loud. This was supposed to be her day and all that.
Andy found himself reaching into his pocket and handing his keys through the window. “Look, if you need to talk—”
“No, not really.” Her head remained bent as she searched through the key ring.
“The black one,” he prompted.
“Thank you.”
She inserted the key into the ignition and managed to start the engine before the gears ground to a halt, making him wince. Foiled by the manual transmission.
He opened the driver-side door. “Here, maybe you should—”
“All right.”
Gathering up her skirt, she scooted over to the passenger side, which was a bit of a struggle. He caught the flash of a stockinged calf and redirected his gaze to her face.
Spoken for. So spoken for.
“You drive,” she said.
“But—”
“Hurry!”
The bride looked toward Briarwood Manor, prompting him to do the same. He half-expected the entire party to come rushing toward them with a pissed off guy in a tuxedo leading the charge. They were about to be at the center of an extremely awkward scene unless he did something fast.
With a shake of his head, Andy ran around and shoved the serving cart back inside. He slammed the doors shut and returned to the driver’s side.
“Drive,” the bride commanded from inside the cab. There was a plea in her voice that poked at some spot in his chest, right at that ancient organ labeled “chivalry.” This was a tough situation, but no matter how difficult it was for him, it had to be a hundred times worse for her.
He climbed onto the seat and set his foot on the clutch. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She rested her head against the passenger-side window and closed her eyes. “Just drive.”
***
“I’m Andy.”
The bride was preoccupied staring at the side mirrors and occasionally over her shoulder. Briarwood Manor was now a tiny dot in the distance. “Hmm? Oh, I’m Tessa.”
“So, uh, rough day?”
That was probably the stupidest thing he’d ever said to anyone.
“It started out real well, I thought.” Her voice trailed away. She glanced again at the passenger-side mirror.
“There’s no one behind us,” he reported.
“Good.” She chewed on her lip nervously. “You know how you sometimes spend a lot of time convincing yourself something is absolutely right and everyone around you is also insisting everything is absolutely right, and you just stop paying attention to the signs?”
“Um, yeah.”
The one thing Andy knew was the best way not to say anything wrong was to say nothing at all. That was probably good advice about now. Tessa probably just needed to talk things out and clear her head. Once she calmed down, he would just turn the van around and return to the wedding.
All brides were beautiful, but Julie hadn’t told him her client was this beautiful. Tessa was quite a distraction, ivory-skinned with dark curls ready to spill out over her shoulders. In addition to struggling to keep his mouth shut, it was difficult to focus his eyes on the road.
“I mean, I didn’t want to be a doomsayer,” Tessa was saying. “And Graham and I got along really well, so when he asked me to marry him—he asked me, you know? So many of my girlfriends tell me how guys these days are always dragging their feet. Anyway, I was happy when he asked. I really was, but—”
“But?”
“Oh, never mind. You don’t need to hear all this drama.”
Julie had brought him this job because it was a great opportunity for him to build his reference list. The client was undemanding, she’d told him. A sweetheart. Now
that undemanding sweetheart was in his van, tapping restlessly against the window.
He drove as the seconds ticked on, each one becoming more uncomfortable. Strange day.
What happened if she didn’t change her mind? What if he had a real runaway bride on his hands?
“Have you ever seen the movie The Graduate?” he asked finally.
Tessa looked at him like he was crazy, but at least she no longer looked like she might go crazy.
“You know, the last scene in The Graduate. Elaine!”
That teased a faint smile out of her. “I am not trying to seduce you.”
“I wouldn’t think so.”
She shifted in the seat to face him. “I wonder if there are guys out there with a bride fetish.”
“Yeah, they’re called grooms.”
He thought he heard a snort, but Tessa quickly stifled it.
“Nice dress, by the way.”
Dead silence. Okay, totally inappropriate to say. You only said that to a bride when the wedding was still on.
“So . . .” Andy dragged out the lead-in as long as he could, hoping for the right words to come. They didn’t. “Is there somewhere you want me to take you?”
Tessa let out a wail and dropped her head into her hands. “What am I doing?”
“It’s okay. You know, probably all brides get nervous.”
Her head shot up like a cobra. “Shut up!”
“Okay.”
So much for trying to be a good guy. He kept on driving while she kept on staring at the side mirror. Whether it was with hope or trepidation, he couldn’t tell. It knocked the wind out of him to see her looking so lost.
“Do you know my father didn’t even show up to the wedding?” she said after a while, very quietly.
It didn’t sound like she was looking for an answer, so Andy made a sound of condolence and let her continue.
This Wedding is Doomed! Page 18