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“She does, but this is different. This is my wedding, and I love Carlotta, a lot, and I’d love to not be another bridezilla she has to deal with. So can you help me? Pretty please?”
“Fine. I’ll help. But only when my schedule allows it, Pip. This isn’t going to become my full time job.”
“I already told you, Carlotta is in charge.”
I rolled my eyes at the smirk on her face. “Don’t push it, I already told you that I’ll do it.” Then a wicked thought popped into my head, and I looked away from Ryanna with a grin. “Does this wedding planning count as my wedding gift?”
Pippa laughed, the sound startled Ryanna momentarily, but the little girl was moments from falling asleep in my arms. “I’ll tell you what Chase, this planning can count as my wedding gift from you, if you bring a date to the wedding.”
“Evil, evil woman.”
She laughed again in response.
Chapter 3
Carlotta
Another wedding over and done with. I stood in the back of the reception hall that was part of The Old Country House estate wearing a satisfied smile as the happy couple enjoyed their first toast, immediately followed by their first dance. The groom looked at his bride as if she was his everything, as if she was the most beautiful woman—the only woman—in the whole entire world.
It was enough to give a woman like me hope that all wasn’t completely hopeless. Valona and Pippa, even Lacey had all found love again later in life, and there really was no reason I couldn’t do the same. Except I didn’t think I could. Or would.
So I turned my focus back to where it had been for the past twenty-odd years, work. Event planning was something at which I excelled, taking a few details and turning it into a memorable event people would always think of fondly. Years of helping Mama throw parties for the important bigwigs in Carson Creek, down in Nashville, and all the surrounding, and more importantly, moneyed, parts of the city had finally paid off. My job was exhausting on the best of days, but events like this where everything flowed as it was meant to without any outrageous disasters made it all worth it.
Brides were meant to be out of control, given how much importance was placed on the wedding day for the woman. Everything had to be just perfect, picturesque and executed according to her twelve-year-old dreams, or it was a failure. I expected it from brides, and since brides helped me start my business, I gave them a lot of rope to hang themselves. But the non-wedding events? They had taught me a very valuable lesson, everyone had an inner-bridezilla.
But Jess and Mark were an adorable young couple from wealthy Knoxville families. They were easy to please, and Jess knew exactly what she wanted, which made my job incredibly easy. She’d fallen in love with The Old Country House and had insisted that Nina take care of all the food, agreeing to pay the Dark Horse fee even though the reception was elsewhere. They were dream clients, and I just knew it was to make up for the fact that my next event, a retirement party for a seventy-two year old vineyard owner, was going to be a nightmare.
Don’t think about it, I told myself as Mark dipped Jess low over his arm and brushed the softest, sweetest kiss to her lips.
I couldn’t change the next event. I’d accepted it, drawn up the contracts which had been signed. And the deposit had been paid. There was no backing out, even if I was the sort of planner who would back out. Which I most certainly was not.
“Enjoying yourself?” Chase’s deep voice was much less gruff than it usually was, the low timber caused unexpected shivers to crawl up my spine.
I turned to face him and I had to stifle a gasp at how handsome he looked in his suit. Chase had an unorthodox look, with thick red hair that would curl immediately if he didn’t keep it cut as short as he did, and bright green eyes the color of shamrocks. You couldn’t tell normally that he de-stressed by boxing, but in the three-piece green and gold windowpane suit he wore, his wide chest and thick biceps were perfectly on display. My mouth went dry, and I had to swallow around the lump in my throat. “I always enjoy a good wedding, Mr. Mayor. You’re looking very sophisticated today, in a professor-ly kind of way.”
He laughed, but his pale, slightly freckled skin couldn’t hide the blush that stained his cheeks. “Professor-ly?”
I nodded. “Yep. The windowpane print really suits you.”
Chase rolled his eyes and I laughed. “What?”
“It’s a compliment, the only acceptable response is thank you Carlotta.”
His lips twitched in amusement. “Thank you, Carlotta,” he replied formally.
“You are most welcome Mr. Mayor. Now tell me, how do you know the happy couple?” Chase often made an appearance at weddings or events involving the citizens of Carson Creek, but Jess and Mark were from Nashville.
Chase shrugged. “They want to do a test run of their new food truck venture here in Carson Creek, to see if the business plan has legs. We’ve been chatting.”
“Food truck? That’s a bit cosmopolitan for Carson Creek, but I think it could do well in a town like this.”
His brows furrowed. “You do?”
“Sure, why not? Tourism in town is growing, and the population is getting younger. Besides, who doesn’t love to grab a good taco by just rolling up to the curb?”
Chase’s lips twitched with unspent laughter. “You don’t strike me as a side-of-the-road-taco kind of girl, Carlotta.”
I shrugged off the words, but I knew exactly how people saw me. I was the proper southern girl, a little bit stuck up, and girly as all get out. But that was my upbringing and my fashion sense. “I’ve got layers, Mr. Mayor, or haven’t you heard?”
