Jacquie D’Alessandro - Holiday Inn Bed

“No buts,” he cut in, not willing to even contemplate what she might have said next. “Everything is going to be fine.”

He just hoped like hell he was right.

With her stomach knotted with that “walking through the minefield” sensation, Jessica entered the lodge. After everyone hung up their snow-coated jackets on the large rack near the door, they headed toward the lounge area. A number of tables were filled, and half a dozen patrons sat at the bar, most of them checking out the hockey game showing on the overhead TV. The bartender-who looked so much like Roland Krause, Jessica would have bet they were brothers-polished glasses behind the curved mahogany bar.

Once they’d seated themselves in overstuffed leather armchairs around a low, round polished oak table set on antlers, a waitress wearing a festive red Santa hat to top off her red-and-green outfit approached with a friendly smile.

“Happy holidays, everyone. What can I get you?”

“Scotch,” said Marc without hesitation. “Straight up.”

So much for hot chocolate. Obviously this was a meeting that required a stiff drink.

Jessica flicked a glance out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the swirling snow. “Aren’t you the designated driver?”

“Yes. But since we’re apparently going to be here for several hours-” he shot an “and it’s all your fault” glare toward Kelley “-one drink is okay.”

“Vodka martini,” said Kelley, pulling a thick planner from her oversize purse.

“Gin martini,” said Jessica’s mom, in a tone that seemed to toss the first grenade toward Kelley. Jessica wasn’t the least bit surprised that the two women didn’t agree on what sort of martini was best.

After Jess ordered a white wine and Eric asked for a beer, the waitress headed toward the bar and an awkward silence descended on the group. Jessica cleared her throat and attempted a cheerful smile, but wasn’t sure she succeeded. “Why don’t we get started?” So we can get this over with.

“Excellent,” said Kelley, consulting her planner. “First, we need to decide on an approximate number of guests so I can tell the catering manager at the Marble Falls Country Club which ballroom to block for us. The smaller ballroom holds up to one hundred guests, the larger one up to three hundred.”

“The small one,” Jessica said.

“The large one,” her mother said at the same time, then frowned. “Although I’m not thrilled having the reception at the country club. The Ritz-Carlton is only an hour’s drive from MarbleFalls and the ballroom there is much more elegant. And it can accommodate more guests.”

Jessica pressed her fingers to her temple in a vain attempt to stem the headache forming there. “Mom, I don’t even know three hundred people.”

“We have dozens of business contacts through the restaurant we need to invite, dear.” She flicked a glance toward Eric. “No doubt Eric has a few as well.”

“The Ritz-Carlton is out of the question,” Kelley said, shaking her head. “It’s too far, especially for a February wedding when the weather is so unpredictable. If there’s a bad snowstorm, we’ll end up with no way to get to the reception.”

“Which is why the wedding should take place in June,” Mom said, her jaw tilting to its most stubborn angle.

Kelley dismissed her words with a wave of her hand. “June is completely passé for brides. May is the perfect month-”

“Stop,” Jessica said, holding up her hand. “I don’t want to wait until May or June.” She looked at Eric. “Do you?”

“I don’t want to wait until tomorrow.”

She nearly sagged with relief at his reply. Sometimes she truly feared he’d finally get so disgusted with all these issues that he’d decide she wasn’t worth the aggravation. The mere thought made her feel physically ill.

He turned toward his sister. “The wedding will take place, as Jess and I planned, in February.”

“But the weather-” Kelley protested.

“February,” reiterated Eric.

The waitress delivered their drinks and while Eric signed the bill to charge them to their room, Jess took a grateful sip of wine. Based on the first few minutes, this was going to be a looooong meeting.

“What’s the next thing on your list?” Eric asked Kelley.

“We still haven’t decided which ballroom we’ll need.”

“The large one,” Jessica’s mom stated firmly.

Jessica’s headache grew worse. “Mom…I’ve told you that Eric and I would prefer a smaller wedding. Maybe around fifty people. Or less.”

Her mom’s eyebrows shot upward-as if she’d never heard this before-then collapsed in a frown. “Fifty? Impossible. That would barely cover our immediate family.”

“Mom, there’re only six of us in our immediate family.”

“I mean our immediate circle-of family, friends, business associates and coworkers.” She reached out and patted Jessica’s arm. “You don’t need to be concerned about the cost, dear. I’ve been saving for this day for a long time. The wedding is my gift to you.” She flicked a look at Eric. “And Eric, too.”

God, she hated when her mother did that-glanced at Eric as if he were something she’d just scraped off the bottom of her shoe, then tacked him onto the end of her sentence like an unpleasant afterthought. She’d discussed the matter privately with her mother several times, but each talk had degenerated into an argument with her mother harping that Eric was “the competition” and that Jessica should find some other man to marry-a doctor or lawyer would be nice. She’d even gone so far as to suggest that all the arguments were actually Jessica’s fault for not introducing Eric to the family until they were already engaged.

Uh-huh. Well, she’d have to take the bullet on that one because she had kept Eric to herself for their entire six-month courtship. Because she’d known how her mother and brothers would react. Her brothers hadn’t liked anyone she’d ever dated, and had scared off more than one potential boyfriend. As for Mom, she’d also found fault with every guy Jessica had ever brought home-except for her high school boyfriend, John Wilson. And the only reason Mom had liked him was that he was the spitting image of a young Paul Newman. Which was good. But John also had a roving eye. Which was not good. By the time she graduated from college, she’d learned that there were only two types of guys she should bring home to meet the family-the type she didn’t want to date anymore as one visit, especially with the brothers, pretty much insured she wouldn’t hear from him again, and the guy she wanted to marry.

She’d known from that first moment she laid eyes on Eric that he was The One, and every moment spent with him over the next six months had only served to reinforce that first impression. And that being the case, she sure as hell hadn’t wanted to scare him off. She was just working up the courage to suggest he meet her family when he asked her to marry him. That had led to their first meeting with her family a week later basically becoming Mom, guys, this is Eric. We’re engaged.

Although Jessica didn’t meet Eric’s family, either, until after they were engaged, that first meeting had gone much better. But that promising beginning had slithered right down the tubes when they’d brought the two families together for the first time two weeks later.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

“Now that we’ve settled the ballroom issue,” Kelley’s voice broke into her reverie, “let’s move on to the color scheme.”

“Butter-yellow,” said Mom.

“Impossible,” vetoed Kelley. “Too pale and springlike for February. Not only that-”

“I’m going to the bar to watch the game,” Marc broke in, clearly anxious to escape all discussions of things butter-yellow. Jessica envied him his freedom and wished she could join him.