“Jules, is that mistletoe in the centerpieces?”
“It is. And I’m glad you mentioned it.” Juliette picked up a large box that had been pushed back into a corner. “We need to hang these mistletoe bunches in places where people can stand under them and kiss.”
“But it’s not Christmastime,” Chelsea said. “Why are you putting up mistletoe?”
Juliette smiled. “My mission is to make dreams come true. I give the bride and groom whatever they want. Mistletoe is kind of their thing because they met at a wedding that had a mistletoe theme and they decided they wanted it at their wedding, too. Even if it is May, their wish is my command.”
It was cute for a couple to have their own special tradition like that. How nice it would be to share a romantic fancy like that with your soul mate, Chelsea mused as she hung the round bunches of greenery that were interspersed with baby’s breath and tied with a pink ribbon to match the flowers in the centerpieces.
By the time they’d finished setting up, Chelsea had decided that working like this was the perfect cover. Who would think to look for a humiliated British heiress behind the scenes of a Texas wedding? Besides, Americans weren’t that tuned in to the UK tabloids, and even if they were, the majority wouldn’t give two thoughts about her sex tape, what with the Kardashians and other reality TV stars misbehaving on a daily basis. In fact, her misadventure might even seem a bit tame comparatively. Or at least a bit anticlimactic since she hadn’t tried to capitalize on the scandal. She just wanted it to go away.
It seemed that everywhere in the world, famous people or wannabe celebs had adopted the stance that bad publicity was better than being overlooked. That wasn’t Chelsea’s philosophy, of course, and she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the trend of relishing public shame. She simply wanted to disappear until everything had blown over and John Q. Public had forgotten her. But keeping busy like this was one step better than disappearing because while she was working, she had actually forgotten about the problem that had brought her here in the first place.
“Okay, I think we’re good to go,” Juliette said, standing back and surveying the room.
The place really did look fit for a princess bride with the tulle, twinkle lights and flowers, and all that mistletoe just begging people to kiss.
“This was fun. If you need a hand on other jobs while I’m here, I’m happy to help.”
“Thanks, love,” Jules said. “I just might take you up on that. Now, let’s go change out of our work clothes and into our party dresses. The fun is about to begin.”
Juliette had lent Chelsea a dress and a pair of heels to change into. Since Chelsea had packed her bags on the fly before leaving London, she’d only brought along casual clothing. She certainly hadn’t foreseen attending posh events while she was away. Especially not a wedding.
However, Juliette was right about needing to freshen up and change into appropriate attire after hefting tables and hauling ladders. Chelsea was already exhausted, and the real work—when the bridal party and guests arrived for the reception—hadn’t even begun. The grunt work was only the preamble. Apparently, a wedding planner’s job wasn’t done until the bride and groom left for their happily-ever-after and the last guest cleared the building. Chelsea had always appreciated that Juliette was a hard worker, but until now she had no idea of the amount of exhausting work required to pull off Jules’s job. From the outside looking in, her friend made it seem effortless.
They changed clothes in stalls in the ladies’ loo and then touched up their makeup at the communal mirror.
“You really do earn your pay, Jules,” Chelsea said. “I’m impressed.”
“I love my career. It simply doesn’t feel like work to me.”
“Well, you’re darn good at it.”
“Thank you. When I see my brides and grooms looking so happy, it’s worth every bit of effort.”
“And, of course, they pay you handsomely.”
“Yes, there is that.” Juliette blotted her lips, smoothing her bright pink lipstick, which looked so smart with her olive complexion. “But that’s the frosting on the cake. The real compensation is loving what I do.”
“You’re lucky to have found your calling,” Chelsea said. “I’m beginning to think that finding the perfect career might rival finding the perfect man.”
The thought had her mind skittering back to Ethan Campbell and talk of his marriage to the woman named Molly. Had Ethan been Molly’s perfect man? If she married him, she must’ve thought so in the beginning. He seemed like a decent guy, even if he was a little overly protective. Why had Molly let him get away?
“Nothing is perfect,” Jules said. “Well, except for the weddings I plan. Those have to be perfect. But you’ll find yourself soon enough. It was a shame what happened with Hargraves Designs.”
Chelsea died a little inside. Just when she’d gotten her mind off the damn tabloid story, there it was, jumping out at her like an ugly jack-in-the-box.
Initially, Hargraves had thought her name would lend cutting edge panache to the traditional studio. She was supposed to help them connect with the younger, hipper, moneyed generation. But her stock went down the tube once the video scandal had broken. They couldn’t distance themselves fast enough. In the span of hours, she’d gone from being an asset to a crushing liability. They’d gotten rid of her faster than the queen’s guard would dispose of a bat caught in the royal coiffeur.
Still, she was truly thrilled for Juliette. In fact, seeing her best friend’s happiness, knowing that finding one’s place in the world wasn’t a myth, renewed her hope.
Maybe this sojourn to Celebration would help her sort things out. At least she’d have a chance to get her head on straight. It would be nice to have some quiet time, time to hear herself think. Maybe alternating the quiet with busy days like today would help her figure out her next step.
She finished touching up her eyeliner, ran a brush through her long, blond hair and pinched her cheeks to heighten the color. With that, she decided to call it good.
“What’s next?” Chelsea asked Juliette, who was gathering up her makeup and stashing it in her tote bag.
“Would you mind putting our things in the car while I do one more walk-through before the bride and groom arrive? I want to make sure I didn’t miss anything?” Juliette glanced at her watch. “Guests should already be gathering in the lobby for drinks and hors d’oeuvres. The new Mr. and Mrs. should be here in the next ten minutes or so.”
“I’d be happy to,” Chelsea said as she hoisted her own bag up onto her shoulder and took Juliette’s from her outstretched hand.
A small crowd of wedding guests had already gathered in the lobby when Chelsea left the ballroom on her way toward the parking lot. Instantly, she picked out Ethan in the crowd. He was wearing a white dress shirt with a blue tie and was holding his suit jacket. Even from this distance she could see that the tie brought out the azure of his eyes. He was a good-looking man. No wonder her gaze had automatically landed on him.
Lucy was with him, standing by the bar. She was talking to a guy with dark, wavy hair. While Lucy seemed oblivious, hanging on to the guy’s every word, Ethan saw Chelsea watching them. He smiled and began walking toward her.
“Let me help you with that,” he said, opening the door with his right arm and taking the two totes and garment bags with his left. They didn’t weigh a ton, but they had been cumbersome enough that they would’ve made it challenging to juggle her load and open the doors herself. Ethan scooped them away as if they were nothing.
“Thanks,” she said. Her mind skittered back to the mistletoe in the ballroom and she wondered if Ethan would kiss anyone tonight. “I was taking those to the car. I can handle them if you need to get back inside. I’m the one who is working today. You’re a guest.”
“I wouldn’t have offered to help if I tho
ught I might miss out on something in there,” he said.
Somehow she didn’t believe that. In the short amount of time she’d know Ethan, she’d learned that even though he was gruff, he always seemed willing to lend a hand.
“Well, in that case, I’ll lead the way,” she said. “The car is just right over there. And thanks, Ethan.”
Juliette’s SUV chirped when Chelsea clicked the key fob.
“You’re welcome,” he said as she opened the hatch and stepped back for him to deposit the bags. “You look real pretty today. Red is a good color on you. Looks nice.”
She didn’t know why, but she suddenly felt shy.
She finally mustered, “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.” It was true. The tie and pressed white shirt was a different look for him, but he wore it well.
He smiled at her again as he slammed the hatch, and the two of them walked side by side back to the building. She caught him slanting a glance at her and she racked her brain for something to say. Why was she so bad at this? She’d always been good at making small talk. Why did he make her nervous? She wasn’t a schoolgirl.
“Has Lucy given any more thought to the suggestions I made last week for the barn design?”
“I don’t know. She hasn’t said anything. You might want to ask her tonight. But right now she’s talking to Zane Phillips. I’m sure the barn is the furthest thing from her mind.”
“Zane is the guy she’s with inside?”
Ethan nodded.
“Are she and Zane dating?”
His laugh was sardonic as he opened the door. “No.”
His answer was so resolute she was almost sorry she asked. Almost.
“Don’t you like the guy?”
“Of course I do. He’s like a brother to me—to both of us. Come over here and I’ll introduce you to him.”
Scanning the crowd, she hesitated. “Maybe later? I need to get back inside and see if Juliette needs my help with anything else.”
“Save me a dance?”
Something in the way he was looking at her made her nerves bunch and swarm in her stomach. The feeling took her breath away, but she managed to say, “Sounds like a plan.”
Chelsea felt his gaze on her as she made her way back to the ballroom and stepped into the sanctuary of the empty hall, shutting the door behind her.
“How does the crowd look?” Juliette asked as Chelsea handed her the keys. “Are guests starting to arrive?”
“Yes, there are a lot of people out there. Tell me about Zane Phillips.”
“Zane Phillips?” Juliette did a double take. “Did you meet him?”
“No, not exactly. But based on what Ethan just said, I think Lucy might have a thing for him and I’m not entirely sure Ethan is okay with that. Is he really that controlling?”
“Who, Zane?” Juliette asked as she adjusted the flowers in one of the centerpieces.
“No, Ethan.”
Juliette snorted. “No, Ethan is not controlling. Not when it comes to Lucy’s thing for Zane. Ethan happens to have a lot of sense when it comes to that matter. Zane loves the ladies. I’m sure you will be no exception, but he is dating someone right now—supposedly. Listen, everyone in town knows that Lucy has had a crush on Zane for as far back as—well, for as far back as I can remember, anyway. Zane loves to flirt. Ethan’s just being the protective big brother.”
“How can you believe that’s not controlling? He doesn’t want her to date Zane. He doesn’t want her to open the barn venue. Even you want her to open the barn. Help me understand.”
“Ethan is a good guy, Chels. He’s just a little cautious. He’s endured some hard knocks with his divorce and losing his parents, but he’ll come around about the barn. I mean, it just makes sense. Look at this place.” She made a sweeping gesture with her hands. “It’s a gold mine. Lucy has a real opportunity by giving it some competition. Even so, Ethan just wants to make sure his little sister doesn’t get hurt. He holds his family tight. You can’t blame a guy for that.”
Chelsea didn’t mean to judge. Family was everything to her, too, despite how her parents had reacted to the Hadden debacle. She and Ethan had that in common. Except in her case, she was the little sister with the overly protective siblings; she was the one who didn’t measure up.
Juliette’s phone dinged with a text. “The bride and groom are here. We can open the doors to the ballroom. Shay and Kyle and the bridal party will make their grand entrance in about ten minutes. If you will help me get everyone in here, then you can go enjoy yourself.”
“Enjoy myself? I’m not a guest. I’m the hired help. Remember?”
“You’re a volunteer,” Juliette said as they moved toward the doors. “It’s understood that you will be paid for your efforts in wedding cake and dances with handsome cowboys.”
“Well, if you put it that way, how can I refuse? Except, I don’t know the bride and groom. Won’t I be one step up from a wedding crasher? I could take a cab home.”
“If you can get a cab to come all the way out here, you’re certainly free to go, but I wouldn’t count on it. Dorothy, you’re not in London anymore. We’re a community here and since you’re my friend, you’re automatically one of us. So join the party and enjoy yourself.”
Chelsea must’ve still looked dubious because Juliette said, “Don’t worry. I’ll introduce you to Shay and Kyle after they get inside and get settled.”
“Okay.”
Really, what choice did she have? She did suppose wedding cake and handsome cowboys sounded like the ingredients that dreams were made of, especially if it meant dancing with Ethan Campbell. And possibly two-stepping underneath a ball of that mistletoe.
That could be fun. Her stomach did that strange bunch-and-dip thing it had been doing since she first saw him.
Yeah, uh, no. There would be no kissing anyone tonight, no matter how tempting the mistletoe or the cowboy.
Chelsea stuck close to Juliette, helping her direct guests who had picked up their table numbers in the lobby as they waited to enter the ballroom.
Once again, she picked Ethan out of the sea of people and noted where he was sitting—table eight. Somehow he had made it past her, either getting direction from Jules or finding his own way. It wasn’t that difficult. It wasn’t as if he needed a map or a guide. In addition to Lucy and Zane, two more couples were seated at the table. She wondered if someone else would be joining them to fill that open seat. Zane’s girlfriend, perhaps? Ethan wouldn’t have asked her to save him a dance if he was with a date. But maybe Shay would try to play matchmaker and seat a single woman at the table?
Chelsea wished she would’ve thought to sneak a peek at the seating chart earlier. She’d had it right in her hands when she’d set up the seating assignment table in the lobby. Of course, she could go out and ask the table attendant, Susan, for the list. However, there was no time for that because Juliette was motioning her over to meet the bride and groom.
The next half hour flew by in a series of dances—bride and groom, mother and son, father and daughter—champagne toasts and the herding of more than two hundred and fifty people through the buffet line. It was exhausting, but finally Juliette shooed Chelsea away.
“You have been such a help, but your work here is done. Now, go get something to eat.”
Chelsea’s stomach growled at the suggestion. She’d been so busy working she hadn’t realized until now that she was ravenous. “Would you like me to make you a plate, too?”
“No, but thanks. I need to coordinate the cake cutting time with the caterer. I’ll grab something later. But you go. Relax. Enjoy yourself.”
With that, Juliette was off on another mission, leaving Chelsea on her own.
It appeared that all of the guests had made it through the buffet line. Chelsea went through, fixing hersel
f a small plate with prime rib, potatoes and salad. She glanced around the room. The empty place at Ethan’s table was still unoccupied. She hesitated a moment, trying to decide if she should invite herself to join him—he had asked her to find him after she was finished working and suggested they dance. But with wayward thoughts of mistletoe and cowboy kisses still lingering, maybe it would be a better idea to disappear into a quiet corner in the lobby away from everyone. In the lobby she could sit down and take off the pinching heels. The shoes were gorgeous, but Juliette’s feet were half a size smaller than hers and the loaners were killing her. Not to mention, she really did feel like a fish out of water in this big ballroom full of strangers who were well acquainted with each other.
So, this was what a party looked like when you didn’t belong, she thought. Except for Jules, Lucy and Ethan, the rest of the people in the room didn’t know her. Of course, she would’ve experienced the same sensation if she had crashed a wedding in London. But Chelsea was so used to being surrounded by friends that being on the outside looking in was a strange, lonely feeling. She reminded herself that solitude was exactly what she wanted. She hadn’t come to Celebration to mix and mingle and make new friends. If she knew what was best for her she would retreat into the lobby, disappear into that enticing corner and mind her aching feet.
As she turned toward the door, she noticed that Ethan looked as alone as she felt. Lucy was talking to Zane; the other couples at the table seemed to be wrapped up in their own animated conversations. And there was Ethan, eating his dinner solo in the middle of these people who were his community, his friends.
The Cowboy's Runaway Bride Page 7