Daughters Of The Bride (17 page)

* * *

Courtney stared at the box on her bed. It was addressed to her, with a Nordstrom’s return address label. She hadn’t ordered anything from Nordstrom. With paying for her car, her insurance and her college, she wasn’t sure she could afford much more than a sock there. Not a pair—just a sock.

So why was there a Nordstrom box on her bed?

She had a feeling she already knew the answer, but there was only one way to be sure. She picked up the box and headed for the stairs. Two minutes later she was knocking on Quinn’s bungalow’s front door.

He opened it and smiled. “Oh, good. They arrived.”

“What did you buy me?”

“Look inside and see.”

She took the package over to the wet bar and opened it. Inside the shipping carton was a black shoe box. On the lid it said: Saint Laurent Paris.

She looked at him. “You bought me shoes?”

“So it would seem.”

“From Paris?”

“Technically from Nordstrom’s website, but I think they originally came from Paris, yes.”

“How do you know my shoe size?” She winced. “You don’t have a weird foot fetish, do you?”

He laughed. “No. I asked my grandmother to find out your size and she did.”

She stared at the box. It was the most beautiful shoe box she’d ever seen—which made her nervous about what was inside. “Why did you buy me shoes?”

He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her until she faced him. “I’ve watched you walk. You hunch your shoulders as if you’re trying to be smaller. Maybe even invisible.”

“You noticed that?” Talk about humiliating. She sighed. “I’m very tall. Freakishly so. I don’t want everyone to notice.”

“It’s impossible to miss. You need to embrace your height. You’re beautiful and tall. Work with it.”

Had he just called her the B-word? For real? Could he please, please say it again?

“Open the box.”

Apparently, he wasn’t going to repeat the compliment, but she would remember always. She turned back to the counter, sucked in a breath, then raised the lid.

All her air came rushing out as disappointment flooded her. Oh, not in the shoes. They were stunning. A pointed toe, peacock suede pump with what had to be a four-inch heel.

“I can’t wear these,” she said. “I can’t.”

One eyebrow rose.

“I’m already six feet tall.” She pushed the box toward him. “I’m not interested in being six-four.”

“Why not?”

“It’s awful. I don’t want to be that abnormal. Besides, I don’t know how to wear heels.”

“Have you ever tried?”

“No.”

“Then it’s past time. Put them on.”

He pulled out one of the dining room chairs. The implication was clear. She sighed again and sat down, then pulled off her sensible flats. Quinn handed her the shoes.

They were gorgeous. They felt good just to hold. She slipped them on and found they fit kind of perfectly. And she had to admit, they looked good on her feet.

He held out his hand. “Ready to stand?”

She grabbed hold of him and rose. Her ankles wobbled and it took her a second to find her balance. “This isn’t so bad.”

She took a step and nearly toppled over. He caught her and laughed. “You weren’t kidding about never walking in heels. Stagger this way.”

She laughed and, leaning on him, was able to make her way into the bedroom. He led her to the full-length mirror by the bathroom.

“What do you think?” he asked.

She was in jeans and a shirt. Nothing fancy. But the shoes. They were exquisite. “I’ll never be able to walk in them, but they are amazing. Thank you.”

“You’re going to keep them?”

She looked from her feet back to the mirror, then winced. “Look. I’m taller than you.” She was by a couple of inches.

“It looks good on me.”

She thought about the models he’d dated. They were all tall. And the man had ridden around with a poodle in the passenger seat of his Bentley. She supposed a little thing like height wouldn’t bother him at all.

“I’ll have to learn to walk in them,” she said, tempted by the thought.

“When you’ve conquered the heels, you will have conquered your fears.”

She laughed. “I’m terrified you’re actually telling the truth. And here I thought I would have to grow as a person instead.”

He put his arm around her. “Nothing that mundane.”

17

COURTNEY WAS A
big believer in tasting dinners before a big event like a wedding. The last thing the bride and groom wanted was to find out they didn’t like the food being served. She and her mom had an appointment to meet with Gracie to decide on the cake, but just as important was the meal at the reception.

As her mother’s wedding was slightly more of a family affair than most, she suggested Maggie also invite Rachel and Sienna to the tasting. There had been a brief discussion then about David, but Maggie had finally decided that as long as he and Sienna were engaged, he should be included. As a friend, honorary grandmother, not to mention owner of the hotel, Joyce had also been asked to come.

Because it was a Thursday evening, Courtney had been able to book one of the smaller dining rooms off the main restaurant. She’d stolen, um, requested, Matt, her favorite bartender, and Kelly was helping her serve.

Courtney had expected to be nervous, but she was way tenser than she’d anticipated. She’d done dozens of tasting dinners before—this was no different. Except for the fact that this was for her mother. She had to remind herself that if Maggie didn’t like her suggestions, she was entitled to her opinion. She was a client, like any other, and her likes and dislikes weren’t to be taken personally. Now if only she could convince herself to believe it.

Neil arrived alone. He greeted Courtney with a hug.

“Thank you so much for setting this up,” he told her. “We’re both excited to taste everything you’ve put together tonight.”

“It’s going to be a good time,” she promised, then looked around. “Where’s Mom?”

“Sienna and David are picking her up on the way.”

They went over to the bar and Courtney explained about the different cocktail options—all of which were pink. “A signature drink can be fun for guests. One of the questions I’ll have for you two is if you want your guests to have the option of getting a drink before the ceremony. There are arguments to be made on both sides.”

Neil chose the cosmopolitan, and they walked to the large table set up in the center of the room. When they were seated, he took a taste.

“Nice. Not too sweet.”

She smiled. “All the pink doesn’t bother you?”

He looked at the pink-and-cream balloons anchored by small bouquets of small pink flowers. “I’m good with it. If Maggie’s pleased, then I am, too.” He winked. “I’m a big believer in that old saying—happy wife, happy life.”

“An excellent quality in a man,” she teased.

“I’ve been married most of my adult life. I’ve learned my lessons.”

“You lost your first wife to cancer, didn’t you?”

He put down his glass. “Yes. Karen and I were together for nearly twenty years. When she found that lump in her breast, we never thought it would be a big deal. Some surgery, a little chemo and she’d be right as rain.”

His normally smiling face turned serious. “But it wasn’t like that, and when I lost her, I was devastated. We hadn’t been blessed with children. I had my work and friends, but it wasn’t the same. She’d been everything to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Courtney told him. She’d known that Neil was a widower, but not the details.

“After a couple of years, I started dating.” He grimaced. “I was a disaster. I missed Karen and I couldn’t seem to make a connection to anyone else. After a year or so, I gave up. I eventually started traveling to figure out where I would retire.” He smiled. “I stopped here for a few days and stayed at this very hotel. Your mother was here for a client lunch. I saw her and couldn’t take my eyes off her. The second her client left, I went up and introduced myself.”

Courtney laughed. “I remember talking to her after that meeting. She couldn’t figure out if you were the sweetest man ever or a serial killer.”

He chuckled. “I know. I felt a spark and I knew she was the one. But I went slow so I wouldn’t scare her off.” He lightly patted her hand. “I’m pretty much a one-woman man. I want you and your sisters to know that. While I was married, I never even looked at another woman. I’m the same with your mother. She’s my princess and I’m lucky to have her in my life. I never figured I was a lucky guy, but I know now that I’m about the luckiest SOB to ever walk the earth. Look at the two blessings I’ve been given.”

Courtney felt a burning in the backs of her eyes. She leaned forward and hugged Neil. “We’re so glad she’s found you.”

“I’m the one who’s glad.” He cleared his throat. “I make you this promise. I will take care of Maggie for the rest of my life and hers. She’ll never want for anything. I give you my word.”

“Thank you.”

Courtney knew that Neil had recently sold a successful business, so she would guess he was reasonably well-off. Maggie had done well with her accounting firm, so between the two of them, she was sure they would have a comfortable life.

Neil glanced over her shoulder, and his face lit up. “Speaking of princesses...”

She turned and saw Maggie, Sienna and David making their way to the table. Courtney doubted the princess remark referred to David. She stood and crossed to her sister.

“Thanks for doing this,” Sienna said. She looked around. “Cute decorations. You really went all out.” She paused for a second. “This is you, isn’t it? Doing the work? Mom mentioned something about you handling the wedding.”

“I’ve been helping out around the hotel,” she said, sidestepping the question. “What with this being a family affair, I wanted to help.”

David joined them. “If we get married here instead of in St. Louis, we’ll have to talk to you, Courtney. You know all the ins and outs.”

“You’re thinking maybe of St. Louis?” she asked, surprised.

David nodded. “Or a destination wedding. We haven’t decided.”

Courtney watched her sister as he spoke. Sienna was smiling, but there was a trapped look in her eyes. Or maybe Courtney was imagining things. She saw Rachel arrive and excused herself.

“Hey, you,” she said as she hugged her older sister.

“Hi, back. Wow—the room looks great. I can’t wait to try everything.” She patted her stomach. “I walked two extra miles yesterday and today, so I’m not going to think about calories.”

“You’ve lost weight, though. I can tell. You look great.”

“Thank you. I hate to say this, but I’m feeling better. What a nightmare. What if everything they say about exercise is true? What if I have to do it forever?”

Courtney laughed. “There are worse things.”

“Really? Like what?” Rachel pointed to the bar. “I want a cocktail. Lena dropped me off and Mom and Neil are taking me home, so I can indulge.”

“You do that. I’m going to get everyone to the table, where we’ll discuss how the evening is going to go.”

Once everyone had drinks and had found a seat, Courtney explained how the evening would work and what they would be tasting.

“I have note cards and pens for each of you,” she said, pointing to the paper at each place setting. “Go ahead and rate the food. There’s also room for comments.”

“Like what?” Maggie asked.

“Things like ‘I like it, but it’s hard to eat and I’m afraid I’m going to spill.’”

“Guests hate that,” Sienna said. “No one wants to trash their good clothes.”

Courtney had been bracing herself for a crack about “pulling a Courtney” and was surprised by the support. “You’re, um, right. So we’ll go in the traditional order of the meal. Appetizers, soups and salads, entrées and desserts. Portions are very small so we can sample as much as possible.”

Her boss walked in with two trays. Courtney hurried over to help her. Joyce settled next to Maggie as Courtney passed around the tray.

“Caprese sticks,” she said. “Grape tomatoes, mozzarella with basil and a balsamic reduction. If you like the flavor but not the presentation, we can do it in appetizer spoons. We can also replace the bruschetta topping with a chopped version.”

Maggie took a bite and moaned. “These are fantastic. Neil, darling, you have to try one.”

“I’ll try two.”

They continued with appetizers and worked their way through soups and salads. While everyone was eating, Courtney set out wineglasses. Sienna counted.

“There are six glasses. We can’t have that much wine and drive.”

David nodded. “I have to agree.”

“We’re tasting, not drinking,” Courtney told him. “Two whites and four reds, all from Joyce’s favorite winery.”

Joyce laughed. “I think you’re going to be happy with Courtney’s suggestions for tonight. They’re delicious and they all have charming names that seem perfect for the wedding.”

“Really?” Maggie looked intrigued. “Like what?”

“Rebel Red and Goodie Two Shoes pinot noir.” Courtney grinned. “The labels are so fun that we don’t have to worry about leaving out the bottles. The guests will love looking at them. Look, Mom, the pink Goodie Two Shoes label even matches your color scheme.”

She held up a bottle.

“Middle Sister Wines?” Sienna said, raising a glass. “I like it already!”

Rachel leaned toward Courtney and muttered, “I wonder if the winemaker has a middle sister complex, too.”

Courtney hid a smile.

“It’s an intriguing story, actually,” Joyce said. “The winery is named after the middle daughter of one of the founder’s best friends. She said the girl is larger than life, a free spirit. I always felt the same way about you, Sienna.”

“Thank you, Joyce.” Sienna stuck out her tongue at her sisters.

“Don’t worry about drinking too much,” Rachel said. “Greg’s off tonight. He has Josh. I’ll call him and he can give everyone a ride home. You can pick up your cars in the morning.”

Courtney met her sister’s gaze and raised her eyebrows.
Really?
She and Greg were getting along that well? Obviously, there had been a shift in their relationship.

Courtney leaned close as she poured the first wine. “We are so talking later.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” But Rachel blushed as she spoke.

Courtney brought out trays with various entrée choices. She set a small ramekin in front of her mother, who wrinkled her nose. “What is this?”

“Chicken and spinach.”

Maggie turned to her. “I hate spinach.”

“I know, so I was surprised when you checked it off on the menu list. Remember? We texted about it.”

“I suppose it sounded good at the time.” She sighed. “Fine. I’ll try it, but I won’t like it.”

Neil kissed her cheek. “I’ve always admired your maturity, my love.”

Courtney didn’t have much time to sit and eat, but she was pleased that everyone enjoyed the choices. Well, except for the spinach and chicken dish, which her mother didn’t want on the menu. They decided to start with an antipasto platter of olives, roasted peppers and marinated mushrooms, paired with Drama Queen pinot grigio. For the entrée, guests would have a choice of steak paired with Rebel Red or grilled salmon paired with the Goodie Two Shoes pinot noir. They would top off the evening with a bubbly toast.

So far, so good, she thought, pleased to be nearly finished.

Coffee—both regular and decaf—was delivered right before the desserts. Sienna got up and poured herself a cup.

“This is going really well,” she said, her voice laced with surprise. “You’re not just filling in here and there, are you? You’re actually planning weddings. Or at least this one.”

“Sometimes,” Courtney hedged. “A couple of summers ago one of the wedding planners got sick and I helped out. I liked the work and I know everyone at the hotel. It makes sense for me to coordinate.”

Sienna studied her. “What else aren’t you telling us?” she asked.

Joyce interrupted then, saving Courtney from having to make up something.

“What are you two girls whispering about?”

“I was saying that Courtney’s doing a great job with the wedding. It’s nice to see.”

Joyce’s look was pointed. “Yes, it is.”

Courtney smiled tightly, then returned to the table. “Desserts should be here any second. We have six choices.”

Rachel groaned. “I’m already stuffed. I don’t think I can taste dessert.”

“You have to rally,” Maggie told her. “I need everyone’s opinions.” She looked at Courtney. “Did you think any more about that massage school?”

Everyone turned to look at her. Sienna frowned. “Why would you go to massage school? You’re working here.”

“She needs more,” Maggie said. “She’s a maid.” She held up a hand. “That’s not bad, but, Courtney, honey, you could be so much more.”

Neil touched her hand. “Maybe this isn’t the time.”

“I know.” Maggie shook her head. “I’m feeling the wine. I’ll stop. I promise. It’s just I worry about you.”

Courtney wanted to snap that she didn’t. Not really. What she worried about was being proud of her daughters. Of being able to say something other than “my daughter’s a maid.”

She told herself to take the high ground—to let it go with a smile.

Joyce walked over and set her cup of coffee on the table. “Tell them.”

Courtney held in a groan. Seriously? Her boss chose this exact second to break ranks?

Maggie looked between them. “Tell me what?”

“Nothing. Where are those desserts?” Courtney eyed the house phone by the door. “Let me check on them.”

“Courtney Louise Watson, what is Joyce talking about?”

Ack! What was it with mothers and that stern tone? Her stomach clenched, her throat tightened and she felt about ten years old again.

“Mom, I’m fine,” she said. “I love my job here. Let it go.”

“Mom, stop.” Rachel got up. “I’ll get you some coffee. Neil, talk to her. This is a nice evening. Let’s leave it that way. Courtney, you’ve done an excellent job. Congratulations.”

Courtney dashed to the phone and dialed the kitchen. One of the servers picked up.

“We know, we know. One of the trays got dropped and we’re trying to fix things.”

Of course, she thought grimly. Because life was always about timing. “Bring what you have. Quickly, please. I beg you.”

She turned back to the room, only to find her mother had cornered Joyce.

“What do you know?” her mother asked the other woman.

“We have a dessert crisis,” Courtney said quickly. “But we’ll have some samples to taste any second now. Mom, I know there’s mousse, assuming it’s not on the floor. Won’t that be good?”