Jennifer McKenzie - Not Another Wedding

“And this is my father, Harrison.” Beck turned her toward a tall, dark, mustachioed man who welcomed her in an equally friendly manner. Then there were all the other guests to say hello to as well. Jamie and Emmy, Jamie’s mom, Georgia, who Poppy hugged a long time before releasing—she’d always loved Mrs. Cartwright, the scent of cinnamon clung to her even when she wasn’t baking—and Emmy’s parents, Clive and Susan, and her younger sister, Grace.

Poppy studied Grace closely. She was as pretty as her sister. The light caught the highlights in their golden hair giving the impression of halos surrounding them. Beside the sisters, Poppy thought she probably looked as if she’d come from the fires of hell.

Grace was polite but uninterested, which was fine with Poppy. She wasn’t looking to make a lifelong friend.

“Nice to meet you,” Grace said before turning to ask her mother about a shopping trip they had planned for later in the week. She certainly didn’t act like a woman plotting to trap Beck into marriage, but then, he hadn’t said that. He’d told her his mother was the one doing the plotting.

Poppy glanced at Victoria and discovered she was the subject of an intensive stare. She forced herself not to fidget and begrudgingly hoped she met approval. And even when she reminded herself that it didn’t matter if Beck’s mother found her worthy or not, she couldn’t shake the desire to be found suitable. When Victoria smiled, wide and clear of any concern, Poppy felt as though she’d passed a test.

There was a large living room off the dining area filled with soft couches and leather club chairs. A massive river-rock fireplace dominated one wall. They commenced to spend the next few minutes getting comfortable, drinking coffee and chatting while Victoria bustled about in the kitchen.

Poppy had hoped to get a seat beside Jamie—if she was lucky, they might be able to steal a few minutes before the meal was even served—but Emmy wasn’t giving up her spot on the love seat and Poppy had to settle for taking the chair beside it.

Emmy smiled at her. “I’m sorry I missed you at the barbecue the other night, Poppy, but it’s nice to finally meet you,” she said. “I feel like I already know you from everything Jamie’s told me.”

Poppy wished she could say the same. “Yes, it’s nice to finally get a chance to talk.” She pasted on what she hoped was an open and interested smile. Although she couldn’t ask Jamie what the rush was here and now, that didn’t mean she couldn’t suss out Emmy’s intentions. “I love your ring.”

It seemed an obvious place to start. If the woman was a gold digger, she probably wouldn’t be able to contain herself from bragging about the number of carats. The stone was a round-cut pink diamond surrounded by a ring of smaller diamonds. Not Poppy’s style, but it was pretty. Poppy admired it, noting it matched Emmy’s dress.

“I have a thing for pink,” Emmy admitted. No mention of the carats or any of the other Cs.

Poppy let go of Emmy’s hand. “What do you do, Emmy?”

Although Poppy had run Emmy’s name through a search engine when she’d first learned about the engagement, she’d found nothing. No Twitter account, no Facebook page, not a single hit. It was weird. Everyone had an online presence these days. It was a rite of passage into adulthood.

“Oh, this and that.” Emmy waved a vague hand in the air before letting it settle on Jamie’s leg. “Lately I’ve been pretty busy organizing the wedding.”

Poppy tried not to jump to conclusions. “So you don’t work?”

“No, not right now.” Emmy leaned into her soon-to-be husband.

“And before you met Jamie?” Maybe she was a freelancer and her most recent contract had ended and she’d decided not to take another one until the wedding was over. But Poppy didn’t think so.

“Nothing as exciting as you. It must be wonderful to spend your days party planning.”

Check and mate. She’d neatly avoided the question while turning the conversation back to Poppy. But Poppy had a little chess action on her side, too. “It is fun. You’re lucky to be able to fully focus on your wedding.” She let that hang in the air for a moment. “So once it’s over, will you help Jamie with the winery?”

Emmy glanced up at Jamie. “I’m not sure.”

“We haven’t talked about that,” Jamie interjected, laying his hand over his fiancée’s. “But she’s welcome to join me if she’d like.”

The two of them proceeded to make goo-goo eyes at each other that left Poppy nauseated and the rest of the room cooing. Except for Beck, who sat across from her, watching. Why must he always watch her?

She fanned her face, grateful when Victoria called them into the dining room.

“Get the answer you wanted, Red?” Beck whispered in her ear as they walked.

She swatted his mouth away. Couldn’t he see she was trying to work here? She didn’t need him whispering sweet nothings or anything at all in her direction. “Not exactly.”

She sat across from Beck at the long table, which easily sat their group of ten. Harrison was on her left at the foot of the table and Jamie was on her right. Poppy tried not to get excited. Asking him about his fiancée’s financial status wasn’t exactly polite conversation, but at least she’d get to talk to him,

Poppy unfolded the crisp white napkin and placed it in her lap. The silver place settings gleamed and the glassware sparkled. An elegant mix of red and pink roses decorated the center of the table. She was impressed by the balance. The red and pink were harmonious instead of conflicting.

The spread of food was incredible and Poppy helped herself to a little bit of everything. Platters of fresh-baked pastries that would have fit into any French patisserie. Plus, individual onion tarts, quiches, French toast with fresh berries and rashers of bacon.

Her excitement over the seating was short-lived. Although she attempted to engage Jamie in conversation, the table wouldn’t allow it.

“Poppy,” said Harrison Lefebvre. “So how do you know Beck?”

Clearly, dear old Dad wasn’t in on the tangle of relationships at the table. “We met at the barbecue,” she said.

“Remet,” Beck said as his eyes bored into her. “That wasn’t the first time, remember?”

“I remember,” she said. Didn’t he know she’d prefer not to, though? “But we hadn’t seen each other for years. I’m amazed Beck even remembered who I was.”

“There are some things you don’t forget.” Their gazes caught. Poppy had to force herself to blink.

“Good, good.” Harrison did not pick up on the sparks flying between them. “Always nice to have another attractive woman around.”

His eyes slid down the table to his ex-wife, and Poppy was pretty sure Victoria blushed, though it might have just been a trick of the light. Funny, she’d thought Beck’s parents were divorced. She glanced at him, but he was studying his lap, frowning.

“Why did you lose touch?” Harrison’s question opened up all those old abandonment wounds.

She glanced at Beck, but he didn’t look up. So he had never called and disappeared without a word. It was a long time ago and unimportant. “Well, we were teenagers,” she told Harrison with a smile. “And we didn’t know each other that well.”

“Not that well?” From Jamie followed by a chuckle.

Seriously? Now he wanted to jump into a discussion with her? “It was only one summer,” she told them. All of them.

“Beck and Poppy used to—”

“Jamie, would you mind passing me the sugar?” Victoria said before Jamie finished his thought.

Poppy sent her a grateful look, which Victoria received with a slight nod. Poppy decided she liked Victoria. A lot.