Stand-In Groom (11 page)

As they waited for their meals, she struggled to think of a neutral topic of conversation but was saved from having to come up with appropriate small talk when George remarked, “Hawthorne isn’t a name one would typically associate with Louisiana.”

He wasn’t the first person who’d pointed that out to her. “No. My father was from Boston but came here for college, where he met my mother.” She’d explained this so many times over the years it was hard to keep it from sounding rehearsed.

“I’ve been to Boston. It’s a very interesting city.”

“So I’ve heard.” Anne traced the ring of moisture her glass of tea left on the table as she took a sip.

“You’ve never gone there yourself? Not even to visit family?”

“I…don’t fly.” Anne swallowed hard and raised her left hand to make sure her shirt collar covered the twenty-seven-year-old scar on the side of her neck.

“Why ever not?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he held up his hand in front of him. “No, wait. I apologize. That question is presumptuous. Please do not feel you have to answer it.”

“It’s all right.” She took a fortifying breath. “You see, when I was eight—”

“Here’s your lunch!” Jenn called cheerily as she swooped down upon them. She gave Anne a wink and floated away to visit with other patrons.

“You were about to tell me why you don’t fly,” he reminded her. Anne lifted her napkin to dab the corners of her mouth and cleared her throat. “The only time I was ever on a plane was with my parents when I was eight. It was a commuter plane that held thirty people. The pilot tried to take off in the middle of a thunderstorm, but…” She took a deep breath to calm her voice and try to settle her stomach. “We crashed, and I was one of only five people who survived.”

Silence settled over the table. He swallowed a couple of times. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “Don’t be. It was a very long time ago. I tried to get on a plane when I was fifteen and had such a bad panic attack that they had to take me to the emergency room.” She hadn’t meant to reveal that to him. No one outside of her family—except for the airline and emergency room staff who’d helped—knew about it.

He nodded slowly, taking a moment to push a morsel of fish onto the back of his fork with his knife. Before putting the bite in his mouth, he asked, “Where would you have gone had you gotten on that plane?”

“New York with my grandparents and aunt and uncle.” She pushed her half-finished salad toward the end of the table to let Jenn or the other servers milling around know they could take it
away. She’d felt half-starved when they sat down, yet talking about her aversion to flying spoiled her appetite.

“And have you never tried to board a plane since then?”

Why had he decided to take such an interest in this topic? She leaned back against the padded booth seat and crossed her arms. “No. I’d love to see Europe, but I don’t want to go through another panic attack.”

“Hmm.” It was a short sound from the back of his throat. “Have you ever considered taking a ship over?”

He was as tenacious as a coonhound that had treed its prey. Why wouldn’t he just let it drop? “I’ve looked into it, but being self-employed, I can’t be gone for that long. How often do you go back to England?” Hopefully he’d take the hint and let her change the subject.

“I’ve traveled to England several times in the past few years in the capacity of my job.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin, then laid it beside his plate. “Do you mind if I ask, how did you come to the decision to pursue a career as a wedding planner?”

Not really the topic she wanted to discuss, but much better than talking about planes and flying. “When I left graduate school, I went to work as the event planner for B-G—yes, the job Meredith has now. After several years, I realized I enjoyed planning weddings the most and felt like God was leading me to start my own business.”

A light Anne hadn’t seen before sparked to life in George’s eyes. “You felt
God
was leading you? I’ve always admired people who listen for God’s voice and take the leaps of faith He sometimes asks of them.”

Was George a believer? She wanted to ask but didn’t want to embarrass him. “Faith is something I’ve struggled with my whole life. But I knew I just had to do it.”

“What a blessing…to know what you’re doing is God’s plan.” His voice sounded almost sad. “And you are good at it. I…I happened by the Bonneterre Chapel Saturday morning and watched you work. I should have made my presence known, but you were
busy, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

His admitting he’d been there was a surprise, but the words of affirmation floored her. “Thank you. What brought you by the church?”

“I was out for a drive and was drawn to it. I would like to find a congregation to attend regularly, since I will be living here until October. I noticed the door was open and let myself in. It’s a beautiful church.”

“Yes. It’s a very easy place to hold a wedding. Not much in the way of decoration is needed, and the colors are neutral enough that they go with anything a bride could choose. Plus, I know practically everyone on staff—that’s the church I grew up in.”

“And do you still attend there?” Interest in the subject lent a new warmth to George’s handsome features.

Anne’s heart skipped a beat when his brown eyes twinkled. “I do, although sometimes it’s hard to make it to Sunday morning service when I have a late evening wedding the day before. Are you—did you grow up going to church as well?”

He shook his head. “No, I prayed to receive Christ as my Savior about twenty years ago. The head of staff at my first professional position was a Christian. We read the Bible and prayed together every day before we started work.”

“Do you still keep in touch with him?” She smiled up at the waiter who came by to clear their plates, then returned her focus to George.

“He passed away five years ago, just after I came to the States to work.” George’s eyes softened as he spoke of his mentor. “I couldn’t attend his funeral, and while I do miss being able to speak with him, I know I’ll see him again.”

His openness made Anne even more uncomfortable. Every detail she learned about him served to reinforce her attraction to him. She couldn’t allow herself to feel this way about a client. She wasn’t sure what to say, and silence once again settled between them.

They were saved from a moment of awkwardness when Jenn
returned to the table. “How were your meals?”

“Very good, as usual,” Anne told her cousin, but Jenn wasn’t looking at her.

“The fish and chips reminded me of a pub in London we frequented when I was a boy.” George smiled politely.

Even though she hadn’t known him long, just from watching him carefully today and in their past few meetings, Anne was starting to be able to read his facial expressions. He was better at controlling his reactions and schooling his features than she, but his eyes gave him away. His beautiful eyes that were the color of sun-brewed iced tea… the very same eyes that were now looking at her askance.

“Anne?” Jenn nudged her. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I just zoned out there for a second.” Heat crawled up her cheeks.

Jenn removed the cap of her pen with her teeth to write something on her order pad. Speaking around the cap, she said, “I asked what site y’all are going to visit next.”

“Oh. Comeaux Town Center. Then Benoit Hall.”

“Lafitte’s Landing has those two beaten, hands down.” Jenn tore off the sheet she’d written on and put it facedown on the table in front of Anne. “George, great to meet you. Hopefully I’ll see you around again soon.”

He nodded noncommittally.

Jenn leaned over and kissed Anne’s cheek. “Annie, I’ll see you back here for dinner Thursday night.”

“I should be here, but don’t be surprised if I’m late.” Anne picked up the ticket and slid out of the booth.

“I’ll save you a seat.”

“Thanks.” She gave her cousin a quick hug. As soon as Jenn walked away, Anne reached into her small purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, which she left on the table.

George reached for his wallet, but Anne stopped him. “I never make a client pay for a meal. Company policy.”

He looked uncomfortable but didn’t argue with her.

Anne looked down at the check. Rather than a receipt for their lunch, it was a note in her cousin’s chunky, loopy script. She read it as she walked toward the door.

He’s hot. Find out if he has a brother and let me know.

—J

Anne smiled and shook her head. When would her cousin figure out that she was a wedding planner, not a matchmaker?

A
t eight o’clock Tuesday evening, fourteen hours since the beginning of her workday, Anne locked the front door of her office and turned off all the lights. But after two hours of draining mediation, Amanda and David’s wedding was a go for Saturday.

Her back ached between her shoulders, and she rolled her neck to try to work out the stiffness. Next stop: home, where she would fill the spa tub with hot water and her favorite tea-therapy essential oils and try to release some of this stress. Her stomach rumbled, and she adjusted her plans to include running by Rotier’s on the way to get her favorite grilled chicken club sandwich.

The sandwich never made it out of the car. In the ten minutes from the restaurant to the converted Victorian triplex, she’d wolfed down the club and most of the large order of french fries. Her eyelids drooped as she parked between Jennifer’s red classic Mustang and Meredith’s white, late-model Volvo SUV.

She’d rather hoped the girls would have gone out tonight so she could be sure of some private time to unwind. Even though each had her own apartment—Meredith on the ground floor, Jennifer on the third, and Anne in the middle—they rarely, if ever, hesitated to drop in on each other if the mood struck. Especially Jenn, who couldn’t seem to comprehend why anyone would ever want to be alone.

Anne waved bugs out of her face as she fumbled to find the
key to the back door. Maybe they should replace the incandescent porch light with a bug zapper.

She smiled and crossed the threshold. With the deposit for the Landry-Laurence wedding safely tucked away in the bank, she could get an architect out to start redesigning this place back into a grand single-family home. She hadn’t told the girls yet, just in case something fell through. But it was time for all of them to move on, live by themselves.

Thursday night at the family singles’ dinner would be the perfect time. That way she wouldn’t get fussed at for leaving someone out of the telling.

The wooden stairs creaked, and she winced, hoping neither of the girls would notice. The rear entrance opened into her kitchen. She snapped on the lights…and groaned. A couple of cabinet doors stood ajar, and half of her mixing and serving bowls sat on the previously empty countertop.

“Hey, Anne—” Meredith stopped in the doorway.

Anne dropped her bags on the kitchen table, shrugged out of her suit jacket, and waved toward the mess. “Jenn?”

Meredith nodded, stepped back out into the hall, and bellowed her sister’s name. “She came down a couple of hours ago to ‘borrow’ some flour—and sugar and eggs and baking soda. I didn’t realize she needed something to mix it all up in, too.”

Anne leaned over to replace the stack of bowls in the cabinet under the sink. “Looks like she needed the mixer, too. How a woman who has her own business—”

“You rang?” Jennifer bounced into the room. “Oh, sorry. I was about to come down and put all that away, Anne.”

Meredith sat at the table, and Jennifer hopped up to sit on the counter beside the refrigerator. So much for a quiet evening and a long, hot bath.

“So—are you going out with him?”

“Going out with—no, he’s engaged!” Why in the world would Jenn ask that when she knew George Laurence was a client?

Jenn’s pixie-esque face crumpled into a frown. “Danny Mendoza’s engaged? Then what’s he doing sending you flowers?”

“What are you—?” Anne turned and for the first time noticed an enormous floral arrangement in the middle of the table. She must be more tired than she thought to have missed it. Meredith plucked the card off its stick and handed it to her. The flap on the tiny envelope hadn’t been sealed, thus explaining how Jenn already knew who’d sent them. Anne opened it and read the note:

Anne—

Sorry I’ve missed you the last few times I’ve called. I hope to talk to you soon and look forward to getting to know you better
.

Danny Mendoza

What was wrong with him? He’d stood her up a week and a half ago, and she’d been avoiding his calls since then. Why wasn’t he getting the hint?

“Obviously he cares enough to drop a wad of money on flowers.” Jenn cupped a stargazer lily and inhaled its spicy fragrance. “Are you going out with him again?”

“What
again
? I haven’t been out with him
yet
.” Anne concentrated on putting the card back into its sleeve. She worked with April’s Flowers enough to know Danny had indeed “dropped a wad of money,” as Jenn so eloquently put it. Over two feet tall and about as wide, the bouquet featured not only the dark pink and white lilies, but also deep red roses, purple delphiniums, pink gerbera daisies, blue phlox, violet veronicas, lilac blossoms, and white hydrangeas.

“How could you not see them when you came in?” Meredith fingered a velvety rose.

“Have you seen the two arrangements in my living room? I have two others at my office, in addition to the purple tulips I get from April’s Flowers every time they get some in stock. The florist shops around here like me to keep them in mind when making
recommendations to clients, so I get at least two or three deliveries every couple of weeks.” She turned the vase so the large purple bow faced forward. “I don’t think that going out with someone whose schedule is as hectic as mine is a good idea. When I meet the right man, I’ll know it.”

The image of George Laurence flooded her mind’s eye. Why did he have to be engaged? She tried to stop the flutter in her heart, but the memory of their conversation over lunch yesterday—his gentle humor, his deep faith, his expressive brown eyes, his to-die-for accent—wouldn’t go away.