Diary of a Wedding Planner in Love (Tales Behind the Veils Book 2) (29 page)

BOOK: Diary of a Wedding Planner in Love (Tales Behind the Veils Book 2)
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So I had to give Nadine back her check and tell her we'd have to wait until she actually had a groom. I couldn't accept a contract signed by her and The Universe.

I offered to get her a steak anyway, but she graciously refused.

Carmen laughed about it all day, but I felt bad for Nadine. She's a nice lady. I hope her beloved does come along soon. I must confess I pity the poor guy already. Who wants to go on a first date and learn that the entire wedding is already planned and the deposit's been paid?

Hope he likes steak.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thursday, April 24th

 

 

Mama called tonight. I've only talked to her once since I got back from Paris. I purposely haven't called her because I didn't want to get into the whole Cabe conversation. But she called tonight, and I figured it was as good a time as any to face the music.

"Hey Mama."

"Hey sugar. How you doin'?"

"Good. How's everybody up there?"

"Alright, I reckon. You remember Johnnie Lloyd?"

I don't know why she expects me to remember every random person who has ever lived in or passed through our county.

"No, I don't think I do."

"Sure you do. She married that boy your cousin Fred went to school with over in Louisiana. They lived in Bogalusa."

Oh great. Now she expects me to remember random people from other counties. In other states.

"I don't remember her, Mama. Did I ever meet her?"

"Yeah, we went to New Orleans with your Uncle Tommy when you were three and Johnnie came over and brought some clothes for Fred."

"I was three? No, ma'am. I don't remember her."

"Are you sure? Remember, she fell down the stairs at Luann's wedding and had to get stitches across her forehead? Remember? Her eyes were crossed for like a year after that."

I swear my entire family catalogs people by their infamy. Everyone is related in conversation by the illnesses they've had, the tragedies they've suffered, or the scandals they've caused. And the more bizarre the event, the better-known they become. Lose a foot in a tractor accident? Have a husband caught in bed with a choir member? Lose your family business on a football bet gone wrong? Get ready for notoriety.

"Is there a point to this, or are you just testing my memory?"

"Well, Ms. Snippy, I was just gonna tell you her and Fred divorced and she ran off to Vegas to marry a politician."

Riveting information. Definitely life-changing news. Thank goodness she let me know.

"That's nice, Mama."

"What is the matter with you today? Did someone put sour milk in your oatmeal?"

"I'm just tired, I guess. Been working a lot." Okay, so I changed my mind. I wasn't up to facing any kind of music. She had this juicy morsel about Johnnie and Fred to chew on for a while. No need to tell her about me and Cabe. She'd be up all night calling people.

"Alright, well get some sleep. Oh, and before I forget, some guy called here for you. Jack somebody?"

My heart skipped a beat, and I jerked to attention.

"What? What did you say?"

"Some guy called here. Twice now. Says you met him in France? He wanted your number but I told him I don't give that out to just anybody. But then Tanya saw his name on the caller ID from when you called on your birthday, so I thought you may actually know him. Do you?"

"Yes! Did he leave a number?"

"He tried, but I told him you weren't interested."

"What? Why would you tell him that?"

"Because, hello? You have a boyfriend."

I squeezed my forehead with my fingers and tried not to yell at my dear mother.

"So you didn't give him my number?" I don't know why I even asked her. I already knew the answer.

"Well, of course not. I don't know this man from Adam. So who is he? Why'd you call here from his number, and why is he trying to get in touch with you?"

"We met in Paris. We kind of hung out together."

"So Gabe's okay with it? He's friends with him, too?"

"Cabe, Mama. His name's Cabe."

"What kind of name is that? Who names somebody Cabe? I bet his whole life he's been getting called Gabe. I mean, Gabe just makes more sense."

"Mama!"

"What? Why are you yelling?"

I took a deep breath and wished I knew more about meditation.

"I'm sorry. I'm just really tired. Can you please take his number if he calls again, or just give him mine?"

So wow. Wow. Wow. Wow. Why has Jack been calling my mama? Why doesn't he just call me? And can I be a silly girl for just a moment and run around my apartment squealing "He called! He called! He called!"?

'Cause that's what I just did.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tuesday, April 29th

 

 

Charlotte came in the kitchen and told me I had a call from a groom. Of course, she didn't get his name or wedding date, which is typical. I started to send her back to ask, but figured it best to just go back to my desk so she could transfer him through.

"Please tell me this is the Tyler Warren who's scared of heights, loves smelly cheese, frequents cemeteries in Paris, and makes me laugh like no one I've ever met."

I couldn't speak for a moment as my brain processed the fact that it was Jack and not a groom, that he was actually on the phone talking to me, and that I made him laugh like no one he'd ever met.

When I recovered, I said, "Hello, stranger. Where've you been?"

"Where've I been? Where've you been? I've been trying to find you for over a month, and you are one difficult lady to track down."

"I gave you my number!"

"You wrote your number on a cocktail napkin like some bad scene in a cheesy romantic comedy. Don't you ever watch those things? The poor guy always loses the number and then has to go halfway around the world to find the girl, all while she's thinking the jerk didn't call."

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"See? You're not going to believe me, but I got into a conversation with a homeless man that night after you left. I got caught up in his story, and I ended up giving him my coat completely forgetting your number was in the pocket. I even went back to look for him, but he had gone."

"Ahhh. The old
I gave my coat to a homeless man
story. I think I've seen this movie."

He laughed. I'd struggled for weeks to recall his voice and suddenly there it was, amazingly familiar. He was real.

"I swear, you have no idea what I've been through to find you. I found your mom's number in my call log since you used my phone, but that was a complete dead end. She wouldn't even take my number."

I laughed. "Yeah, my mom is a definite dead end if she doesn't know you and you're trying to get in touch with one of her daughters."

"Duly noted. Do you realize in all our conversations you never actually said what town you live in? Only that you were from Florida. Which is kind of a big state. You did mention the theme parks a few times, so I assumed Orlando. I've called every wedding planner in Orlando and asked for Tyler Warren. I got down to the letter J when a kind lady told me you worked at Lillian and Laura's."

"A J? Must have been Felicia at Joyous Celebrations."

"That's the one."

We talked about the highlights of our lives since returning home. Well, minus my relationship issues. Since he didn't know about the story up until Paris, I saw no need to update him on recent developments.

"I'm so glad I finally found you," Jack said once we'd finished catching up. "I'm going to be in Tampa this weekend."

My heart fluttered, and my eyes immediately flashed to the wedding calendar on my wall. I had weddings Friday night and back-to-back morning to evening on Saturday.

"I'm working," I said, my voice dismal with disappointment.

"Well, that's not good. Just tell them you need to take off."

I laughed at the thought. "Um, yeah. Brides don't really like it when you ask them to postpone their wedding because you have weekend plans."

"I guess not. You're working the whole weekend?"

"Friday and Saturday. I'm off Sunday. What time do you leave?"

His flight was late afternoon, so we decided I would drive over to see him Sunday morning and spend a few hours together before he left.

So I guess this answers the question of how I'd feel if he called, huh? I feel excited, but I'm also nervous. It was one thing to see Jack half a world away in Paris. When we both were alone and on vacation, and thrown together in a whirlwind neither of us planned or thought out. What will it be like to see him here in the real world? So near my home turf?

I have to ask myself if I really want to see Jack again, or if I've just been so disappointed he hasn't called that hearing from him mends my wounded pride. Do I genuinely want to spend more time with him? Where will it lead? What does it mean? He's expended quite a bit of effort to track me down. Does he have feelings for me? In which case, what do I do with that? I enjoyed being with him, for sure. But my heart belongs to Cabe. Doesn't it? And should it if his heart doesn't belong to me?

What is it Scarlett says? Oh fiddle dee dee? I have to think about this tomorrow, because if I keep thinking about it tonight, I'll simply go mad.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

May

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday, May 3rd

 

 

I'd been sitting on a bench staring into space when I heard the organ blaring the recessional music. I sprinted to the double doors to swing them wide open for the bride and groom, but they must have been in quite the rush to get back down the aisle. Just as I reached for the door handle, the groom shoved it open. The edge of the door clocked me right between the eyes and knocked me over. I landed on my butt with a thud and a groan before scrambling backwards out of their way on my elbows and heels like a drunken crab.

"Are you okay?" the bride exclaimed as the groom bent forward to pull me to my feet. The rest of the wedding party piled up behind them like an escalator blocked at the bottom, each couple trying to make their way out of the sanctuary but stopping when they saw me clutching my head.

"I'm fine," I said through clenched teeth. My vision flashed in alternating bright white bursts and dark spots as I stood. I half expected to see animated birds chirping around my head with swirling stars.

I rubbed my forehead gingerly and pasted on my best attempt at a smile. It must not have been too convincing, because the rest of the wedding guests kept giving me sympathetic smiles and stealing curious glances at my forehead. Not so long ago, I knocked myself out popping a champagne cork directly at my face. Now this. If I keep going, I'm going to have a permanent knot protruding from my forehead.

I've checked my face in the mirror about twenty times to make sure there's not a bruise or anything. The last thing I want is to show up to see Jack tomorrow with a big black lump in the middle of my forehead.

I'm so nervous. He's called a couple of times this week, and I've laughed and enjoyed the conversations. But I'm just not sure if it's a good idea to see him. I think in Paris I could separate him from reality and exist in our alternate universe that helped me cope. Now he's really here.

What if I see him and I really like him? What if I want to see him again? He lives in Ohio. I think. I don't even remember for sure. How would that work out?

If I'm being honest, and I guess since I'm writing this to myself I have no reason not to be, I think I'm scared he may feel more for me than I'm prepared for. I mean, he went through quite a bit to find me. That says he feels something, right?

At any rate, I'm driving to Tampa first thing in the morning, and then we're going to Clearwater Beach. He asked about visiting Ybor City, but my heart tightened in my chest. No way could I go there. Too much Cabe all around me.

Oh Cabe. Why couldn't it have been you who called? It would be so much easier to know what to do and how to feel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Monday, May 5th

 

 

Jack missed his flight yesterday. Well, technically he got bumped because we got to the airport late.

It turns out I enjoyed his company just as much in the ‘real world’ as I had in Paris. He was the same charming, funny, outgoing, interesting man I met there. It felt so good to laugh again after being sad for so long. It felt magnificent to be complimented and catered to. I soaked up his adoration like a sponge takes on water. I had the best time I've had since I left Paris.

Unfortunately, we lost track of time at the beach, and then an accident on the bridge back to Tampa backed up traffic to a slow crawl interspersed with complete stops.

I knew when I dropped him off at departures he'd never make the plane on time, so it didn't surprise me when he called to say they'd bumped him.

"They have a flight going out of Tampa tomorrow morning at six," he said, "but there's one from Orlando at nine. I was thinking I could get a room in Orlando, and we could spend the rest of the day together. Then I'll just take a car to the airport in the morning."

The melancholy feeling that had overtaken me when we parted lifted, and I smiled as I turned back to pick him up. I didn't want to stop feeling good, and Jack makes me feel good.

"Don't be ridiculous," I heard myself say to him. "Just stay with me." Wow. Where did that come from? Last night I felt all timid about even seeing the guy, and today I'm inviting him for a sleepover? What the hell?

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't want to impose."

"Of course! You're not imposing. I invited you." And there you have it. Even when he offered me an out, I still jumped in feet first. WTH.

It's not like Jack isn't a great catch. He is. He's smart. Funny. Handsome. He's got a great job. Seems to come from a stable, well-to-do family. He's interesting to talk to, and from what I sampled in kisses, he knows what he's doing in the intimacy department. Perhaps most importantly, he seems quite smitten with me. Attentive. Affectionate. No hesitation. No quandary. No morose conversations or holding back or torturous push and pull. No obvious abandonment issues. It's like Jack is Prince Charming. So now that he's here, and interested in me, I'm questioning whether or not I want Prince Charming.

Kind of ironic to consider I picked up Prince Charming at the airport and brought him home with me. I rescued Prince Charming. Go figure. I should have known if I got the chance to have a fairy tale it would be ass-backwards. Of course, to be fair, he'd rescued me first in Paris.

He asked again about visiting Ybor City, and I tossed the shadows to the wind and decided I could handle it. Not a wise choice on my part. It was like pouring water on a campfire. It dampened the day and brought Cabe to the forefront of my mind. Where he usually camps out anyway, but for the first half of the day, I'd been able to shove him to the back and enjoy Jack's company. Just like I did in Paris.

Ybor was harder, though. I could feel Cabe's presence as Jack and I wandered in and out of shops. Hear his voice in my head. Feel his touch on my skin. I shook my head to make him go away.

"You okay?" Jack asked.

"What? Yeah. Why?"

"I don't know. You just looked really sad. Haunted almost. Like you went somewhere else. Then you shook your head like you didn't want to be there."

I struggled to force a smile. "No, just thinking about work stuff. I have a busy week coming up."

"Am I keeping you? Do you need to be working today?" He placed his hand on my cheek and rubbed my temple with his thumb. Sweet, considerate Jack. Gentle Jack. Prince Jack.

"No, not at all. I can't think of anyplace I'd rather be." Not necessarily the truth. But if I couldn't be where I wanted to be, then by Jack's side was the next best place. Horrible, I know. I shouldn't say stuff like that to him when he doesn't know the rest of the story playing out in my head. But sometimes we do things to survive the moment we're in.

We'd been back at my place about an hour debating where to go for dinner when the doorbell rang. Jack had just excused himself to go to the restroom, and I walked to the door wondering who on earth would be ringing my doorbell on a Sunday night.

I never imagined I would see him standing there through the peephole.

I threw the door open to see if it was really him or if my eyes were playing tricks on me.

"What's up, Buttercup?" he asked.

I swallowed. Hard. Fighting the tears that automatically sprang to my eyes and willing myself not to run into his arms and cling to him. I also fought the desire to punch him in the face and kick him in the nuts. To say my emotions were running hot and wild was an understatement. How does he always do that to me?

"Cabe. What are you doing here?" I held onto the door to keep my knees from buckling.

His hair was longer. It fell over his eyebrows, and he shook his head to one side to flip it out of his eyes. He had on a green shirt I'd never seen before, and his hands were stuffed deep in his jeans pockets. He smiled as he greeted me, but then immediately the smile fell away and he moved to go past me into the apartment. His arm brushed against mine as he passed, and I jumped back like I'd been hit with an electrical shock.

He only took a couple of steps into the apartment before turning back to face me as he ran his hands through his hair. It stood wildly on end, and I resisted the urge to reach out and smooth it down.

"I apologize for just showing up like this, but there's so much I need to tell you. So much I should have told you long ago. I know that now, and I'm sorry. But I need you to know why my marriage to Monica ended."

He looked uneasy. Worried. Moisture glistened in his eyes, and although no tear fell on his cheek, I desperately wanted to rush forward and wrap him in my arms.

Part of the reason I didn't was because I was in shock. Frozen. I couldn't believe he was standing in front of me, and I couldn't process his words. They replayed in slow motion through my brain even as thoughts and emotions bounced back and forth at lightning speed. Everything rushing through me all at once, and yet all moving so slowly they came through like a tape player slowed down to a distorted setting.

Cabe. He's standing in my living room. He's here. He needs to tell me something. He's upset. Something he should have told me before. I wonder what it is. He's so handsome. God, I love his eyes. They're so blue. Is he going to cry? Wait. Did he say something about his marriage? Did I shut the door? I can't believe he's standing here. What a jackass. I haven't heard from him in over a month. Oh wow. What is he going to say to me? Why is he upset? Is this going to hurt?

Jack's voice cut through all the mental chatter and brought the tape playing in my head right back up to speed.

"Hello," Jack said, walking down the hall drying his hands on his jeans.

It occurred to me I had forgotten to put out a fresh hand towel about the same time it occurred to me that Jack and Cabe were both standing in my living room. At the same time. Together. And that Cabe had something he needed to say to me. Something important enough to upset him and make him drive over here to tell me in person after having no contact with me. After me telling him not to come back until he knew if he loved me. Something told me this wasn't a topic he'd want to discuss in front of Jack or anything Jack would care to hear.

"Oh, hello," Cabe said as he turned to face Jack. He looked back at me with a look I couldn't decipher. Shock? Embarrassment? Disappointment? Hurt? All of that. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you weren't alone."

Jack rubbed his hand on his jean for one final drying swipe and then extended it to Cabe.

"Jackson Rainey."

I turned my head and looked at Jack, a bit surprised to hear the Jackson introduction, but then my eyes went straight back to Cabe.

Cabe held Jack's gaze for what seemed like forever and then shook the hand Jack offered.

"Cabe Shaw. Jack? Paris Jack?" His tone was accusatory, and I saw his eyes darken as they morphed from confusion to realization. He flicked a glare my way, and the vulnerability I had seen just moments before had gone.

"Um, I guess?" Jack said. "Not a title I go by, but I met Tyler in Paris, and I'm Jack." He looked back and forth between Cabe and me, searching my face for answers I couldn't give. I couldn't speak.

Cabe took a step back as he looked Jack up and down. I had never seen that expression on Cabe's face, and I never want to again. I honestly thought for a minute he was going to haul off and hit Jack. Jack must have thought so, too, because I saw a slight stiffening in his stance and an almost imperceptible flexing of his biceps.

Cabe gave Jack a quick nod, something I assumed to be some man-signal because Jack immediately released his stance and Cabe turned to face me.

"I'm sorry. I've caught you at a bad time. I should've called. Good night."

He nodded again toward Jack, and Jack nodded back. More man stuff, I suppose. Then Cabe was gone. Out the door and back out of my life, and I swear the oxygen left the room with him.

Shock held me in a place for a moment longer, but then the realization hit me that he was leaving without telling me what he came to say.

I flung open the door and ran out into the stairwell. "Cabe, wait!" But he was gone. The man had vanished down those stairs so quickly I think he may have actually jumped to the ground from the second floor landing. I heard his car start and the tires squeal as he pulled away.

I watched him drive out of sight before turning back to see Jack standing in my doorway.

"Do you need to go after him?" Jack asked.

I shook my head no and closed the door behind us. My legs wobbled a bit, and I plopped down in the nearest chair without the least bit of grace.

"Are you okay?"

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, not sure how to answer him. How do I tell Prince Charming the man who just left has my heart, my soul, and my body all wrapped up inside him and I can't break free? Not even for someone as wonderful as Jack.

I felt the room spinning and couldn't get enough air. I took several huge, deep breaths as Jack knelt on the floor in front of me.

"Calm down. It's okay. Slow down. You're gonna hyperventilate. You gotta calm down. Here, put your head between your knees." He guided my head between my knees and calmly stroked my back, patting it as he murmured calming words over and over. The same way he did in Paris.

How embarrassing. I was falling apart in front of Jack again. Over Cabe this time.

I knew I needed to explain. To say something. Acknowledge what had happened. But I had no words.

What did Cabe want to tell me? What was so important that he came over out of the blue? Something about why his marriage ended. Didn't I already know?

The anxiety in his eyes. The look on his face when he saw Jack. When he realized who Jack was. Cabe would think we were together, Jack and me. Just like he thought we were together in Paris. I guess we were. I don't know. I don't know what the hell I was thinking. What I was doing.

I mean, Cabe left me, right? Yes, okay, I told him to. But I also told him I loved him and I chose him. So the ball was in his court. He ended our relationship—whatever it was—and he walked away. So I don't owe him anything, do I? I had no obligation to sit around waiting for him to show back up.

But he did show back up. He came back. I told him not to come back until he knew whether or not he loved me. And he came back. What was he going to tell me?

I felt so guilty. Like I'd betrayed Cabe. Again.

And Jack. What about Jack?

My eyes flew open as I realized how long I'd left him sitting there with no idea of what was happening. I sat up to face him as his concerned eyes searched mine, worry obvious in the lines across his forehead. I may not have owed Cabe anything, but I at least owed Jack an explanation.

"I'm sorry," I started, but wasn't sure what should come next.

Jack shook his head and shrugged. "For what? You don't owe me an apology."

"But I do, Jack. I do. I should have been more upfront with you, and I haven't been."

He rocked back onto his heels and looked away for a moment before meeting my gaze again. "Okay. You want to tell me now?"

I nodded and he stood to take a seat on the couch. "Okay. Let me hear it."

I started at the beginning. The coffee shop. The friendship. Dwayne. Monica. The divorce. New Year's Eve. Cabe's anniversary. Paris. Severing all ties. I laid all of it on the table.

He nodded here and there, patiently listening, never interrupting. His face wore a mask of intent attention, but he never showed a reaction to anything I told him.

"Jack, I know I should have told you. I should have been honest from the beginning. And I'm sorry. In Paris, we'd just met. I didn't want to go into everything, and I didn't understand enough of what had happened to even begin to tell you. Then when you called the other day, I felt like a lifeline had been thrown, and I just wanted to cling to it. To you. You were my bright spot. My happy place. I could be with you and escape again. I realize that was wrong of me, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to use you or to hide things from you."

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