Always the Baker, Finally the Bride (27 page)

TO: Jackson Drake, Hotel Owner
FROM: Sherilyn Drummond,
Event Planning–Weddings

RE: Reminders

Hi, Jackson, it’s Kat. Just a few quick reminders about the
following:

The final fitting for your tuxedo is scheduled for
tomorrow at 4:30.
Andy will meet you there for his fitting as well.

I think you were supposed to pick up the
wedding bands from the engraver last week.
Sherilyn mentioned that you might need a reminder.

I have the honeymoon suite booked for you
the night of the wedding.

And I did receive an e-mail confirmation yesterday from
the caretakers at the Travis family home in Savannah.
They will have the pantry stocked and the house ready
for your arrival the day after the wedding, staying for a week.
If there are any particular requests, just let me know
and I’ll get the information to them.

Shout if there’s anything additional you need. –Kat

Oh, Mother, there’s no use telling her. She’ll forget all about it tomorrow.”

“I don’t know,” Emma’s mother replied, shaking her head. “She’s stayed with this for days now.”

“Has she?”

“Yes, she went on about it for an hour over dinner last night, telling your father how thrilled she is that you’ve asked her to be your maid of honor. Then this morning, she insisted I take her to shop for a dress.”

Emma couldn’t resist chuckling. “I love her so much.”

“And she loves you, dear heart. But will Sherilyn still love you when she gets to the ceremony to find your aunt Sophie standing at the front beside you?”

“I’ll bet Sherilyn would hand her the bouquet!”

“Okey dokey, smokies!” Sophie called in a giddy voice from beyond the silk curtain of the dressing room. “Are you two ready to have a look-see?”

“We can’t wait, Aunt Soph. Come on out!”

The attendant assisted Sophie as she stepped out and crossed to the center of the boutique sitting room. She gazed at the
round pedestal for a moment before gripping the attendant’s arm as if she were climbing a steep hill.

Emma hopped up and hurried to her, taking her other arm. The two of them practically lifted her aunt off the ground, and Sophie grinned from ear to ear from her perch atop the pedestal.

“Step back,” she told Emma as she swept the full-length skirt of the pastel gown. “What do you think?”

“Well, I don’t know, Aunt Soph,” Emma said seriously, shaking her head. “If you don’t mind upstaging the bride . . .”

Sophie giggled. “Oh, no one could do that, sweet girl.”

Emma touched her aunt’s hand and sighed. Muted watercolor flowers in yellows, pinks, and greens screened atop lilac satin created a stunning gown, and the rich lavender lace jacket with rhinestone buttons accentuated her aunt’s fragile frame.

“You look exquisite,” Emma told her aunt as tears glazed her eyes. “I’m so happy you’ll be there with us.”

“I haven’t missed any of your weddings to Jackson, Emma Rae,” she declared, and Emma chuckled.

“You’re very faithful, Aunt Sophie.”

“For the next one, I was thinking about a cathedral,” she said, preoccupied with her reflections in the full-length mirrors. “That might be nice, don’t you think?”

“I’m not really an ornate, cathedral-type of girl. But it sounds lovely.”

“Well, we’ll just have this simple one first and think about that next time.”

Emma glanced at her mother, who sat regally on the jacquard-upholstered couch in the corner.

“Okay, Aunt Soph.” Emma kissed her cheek before helping her down from the pedestal. “I think this is definitely your dress.”

“I think so, too. Will it match the flowers?”

“Perfectly.”

The attendant grinned at Emma before leading Sophie back toward the dressing room.

“Mother,” she said as she sat down next to Avery, “don’t look so worried. She’s relatively healthy, and she lives in a constant state of bliss.”

“Yes, she does.”

“What more could any of us ask?”

Avery took Emma’s hand and rubbed it. “You are a charming daughter, Emma Rae.”

“Of course I am. We’re a charming lot, we Travis women.”

Her mother laughed and pecked Emma’s cheek. “That we are.”

“Well, I just wanted you all to hear it directly from me.” Jackson balanced his cell phone on his shoulder as he climbed out of his car and locked the door. “You’ll share the news with the other hens?”

“Jackson! Don’t call us that,” Norma said on a chuckle.

He laughed in reply.

“I don’t have to tell you how happy I am with your decision, but I just want to make sure you’re happy with it.”

He shrugged. “As happy as I can be when turning down a quick fortune.”

“Oh, that wasn’t the response I’d hoped for.”

“I love The Tanglewood, Norm. But I love Emma more. She’s tired—
really tired
—and I think I started to really invest in that dream we had of moving away for a year and just getting lost in each other and our marriage. Keeping the hotel makes
that an impossibility, and it’s always a little difficult to watch a dream swirl down the drain.”

“You couldn’t still go? Maybe orchestrate a team of support so you could still chase that dream?”

“Really?” he asked as he pulled open the door to the jewelry store. “Leave the day-to-day to . . . who? You? Are you volunteering?”

Norma chuckled. “Okay, I see your point. A little complicated. But you’ll still go to France, Jack. Just not for a whole year, not without ties back to Georgia.”

“Right.”

“And you can live with that?”

“I can live with Emma.”

“And that makes everything all right, doesn’t it?”

“You know, it does.”

The woman behind the glass counter of bling reminded Jackson of Susannah, and he paused to wonder when she might return.

“Listen, sis, I’ve gotta go. You’ll spread the good word?”

“The minute we hang up. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Jackson closed the phone and placed it in the breast pocket of his suit jacket.

“Good afternoon,” the saleswoman greeted him.

“Hello. I left two wedding bands to be engraved, and I’d like to pick them up.”

“Certainly. Your name?”

“Drake.”

“All right, Mr. Drake. Let me just look in the back room.”

Jackson took the opportunity to browse the glass cases. Only two other customers occupied the store, a very young couple shopping for an engagement ring.

“Something reasonable,” the potential groom whispered. “You know what I mean?”

“Yes, sir,” the clerk assured him. “We have some very nice solitaires over here.”

They walked past him, and Jackson’s gaze landed on a display of pendants. One of them caught his eye right away, a small amethyst cross with two diamond wedding bands, entwined and laid over the cross.

“May I see this?” he asked the minute the saleswoman reappeared. “The cross, right there.”

“Of course.”

The woman, whose tag named her Veronica, reached under the counter. She produced the necklace and laid it on a flat display board covered with navy blue velvet. “It’s stunning, isn’t it?”

“It really is.”

“It’s a platinum setting with just under 1.5 carats of round amethysts, and another quarter carat of diamonds to form the wedding rings, on a beautiful 16-inch diamond-cut chain.”

Jackson leaned down and took a closer look before lifting the necklace and dangling it from three fingers so that the light caught the stones. He peered at the price tag and deemed it worth the investment.

“I’d like to give this to my bride on our wedding day,” he said with a smile. “Can you ring this up for me?”

“It’s a lovely choice.”

“And can I see the rings?”

“Well, actually, the rings aren’t here.”

Jackson blinked and swallowed hard. “What do you mean?”

“It appears that your fiancée picked them up two days ago.”

“Oh.” He chewed on that for a moment. “I thought that was my job.”

“Maybe she was in the area? Thought she’d do you a favor?”

He chuckled. “More like she didn’t trust me to remember.”

Veronica grinned. “I wasn’t going to say that. But I do meet a lot of brides and grooms.”

“I guess you’re somewhat of an expert, aren’t you?”

“I’ll ring up your pendant. Would you like it gift-wrapped?”

“No, thank you,” he told her. “Just set it in one of your velvet boxes?”

“And what card would you like to use?”

Jackson pulled out his wallet and handed over his Visa. While Veronica finalized the purchase, he opened his cell phone and dialed Emma. It went to voice mail just as the saleswoman motioned to him to come and sign the receipt.

He tucked the phone back into his pocket as she said, “Your fiancée is sure to love this gift, Mr. Drake. She’s a very lucky woman.”

“I’m the one on the long end of this deal,” he said, scribbling his name. “I just want to make sure she knows
that I know
.”

Jackson got back to the hotel an hour before his next meeting, and he decided to take a stroll into Emma’s kitchen and check in.

Fee stood at the end of a line of several virtual strangers stretched along the length of the worktable while two others, one of them an apron-clad guy with blue streaks in his hair, fussed with something in one of the ovens. He figured these were the interns Emma often spoke about.