Chapter 2
two
Gardens and flowers have a way of bringing people together, drawing them from their homes.
—Clare Ansberry
JAIME HARPER
Five months ago, when Jaime left New York City behind to return to Sunrise, she would’ve bet money that she’d never see Liam McMillan again. He told her otherwise, but she didn’t believe him. Why should she? There’d been so much about Liam that turned out to be smoke and mirrors, not unlike Chris Reid’s magician tricks. Liam had eschewed his humble Southern roots and taken on a Scottish persona.
Totally fake. Totally successful.
Liam McMillan was considered one of the fastest-rising stars in the wedding world. Just this past year, Martha Stewart Weddings, Vogue , and Brides magazines had named Liam’s company, Epic Events, as a top wedding vendor in the entire country.
Jaime had bought into Liam’s facade like the rest of the world. She’d even fallen head over heels for him—her boss and mentor! Until it all shattered on that day when she overheard him on the phone with his Kentucky grandmother. There was no mistaking his origins after that moment. Liam McMillan was a big fat lie.
And yet Jaime, knowing all of this, thought of almost nothing but Liam. She couldn’t stop herself from replaying memories of him or tracking him on social media. Couldn’t stop checking her phone ten times a day, hoping he would text or call or email. No sir, not a single peep in five months.
She was thankful for the heavy workload she’d stepped into at Rose’s Flower Shop because it kept her busy and distracted. It helped to keep a lid on her annoying preoccupation with Liam.
Last night, Jaime had worked late into the night to prepare table arrangements for a favorite customer’s meet-the-boyfriend tea party. It was a Southern tradition. When a young woman’s gentleman caller came to town to meet the parents, her mama would host an innocuous tea party for friends and family to check the young man out. Those poor fellas had no idea what they were getting themselves into.
Jaime had already delivered the arrangements, stopped for a cup of coffee, and was heading to the flower shop to clean up her mess before it opened this morning. The last thing she’d expected was to find Liam McMillan waiting in front of the locked door. About ten feet away from the shop, she froze. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.
“Hello, Jaime.”
Her mind was spinning fast, but words were stuck in her throat. Liam looked as gorgeous as ever. Heart-stopping handsome. Freshly shaved, he’d had a recent haircut, and was dressed in his typical casual-but-expensive clothing. She fought back an impulsive desire to launch herself into his arms and kiss him right on the lips. No ma’am , she told herself. You will not.
“Yer lookin’ bonnie.”
So ... he was still playing the Scottish Liam. And no, no, she really wasn’t looking bonnie. Certainly not at this moment, any way. She hadn’t planned to see anyone this morning. Claire was scheduled to open the shop at ten, so Jaime had dressed in yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt. No makeup. Hair pulled in a high side pony. She was nowhere near bonnie looking! These were the thoughts that were flying through her head.
He tipped his head. “Have you nothing t’ say? Or”—he paused—“maybe ’tis the accent?” His expression softened, imploring. “I won’t be two-faced with you. It truly comes naturally now, even with Meemaw.”
Imagining his granny’s reaction, Jaime couldn’t help but smile. But that faded quickly as her thoughts bunched up in her mind like a traffic jam. Why haven’t you bothered to get in touch with me? Didn’t you miss me? Don’t I matter to you at all? She let out a breath. “I ... certainly didn’t expect to see you.”
“This morning? Or ever?”
“Not ever.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve never heard from ... anyone at Epic.”
“Ah, I suppose it’s the New York City way. Everyone’s totally consumed with what’s right in front of ’em. Putting out fires, all the time.”
In other words, “out of sight, out of mind.” Jaime tried to pretend his casual dismissal didn’t bother her ... but it did. It really, really did.
“This year’s wedding season was a marathon. ’Twas Epic Events’ biggest year.”
If he was telling her that to make her feel guilty, she already did. She had left Epic without giving two weeks’ notice just as peak season began, and she still felt the sting of guilt. She just couldn’t stay in New York City after the disastrous Zimmerman wedding. Rose’s letter, asking her to come back to Sunrise, tipped the scales for her.
A cool breeze swirled around them, shaking her out of her daze. “Why don’t you come in? I’ll make some fresh coffee.”
“I’d like that.” He smiled. “To tell the truth, I’d prefer tea.”
Right, right. She’d forgotten that he wasn’t a coffee drinker, being Scottish and all. She tried not to roll her eyes.
He followed her to the workshop, which had been left in such a state. “I had to work late last night. I was just coming in to clean up.”
As she flipped on the lights and turned on the heat, he poked around the workshop. “I see you’ve employed the same organization that we had at Epic.”
In the middle of filling the electric kettle with water for tea, she stopped to look up. He was right. She had learned so much during her time in New York City, especially from working with him. He had helped her create the Epic workshop to maximize efficiency and minimize waste, and she’d brought those design concepts back to Rose’s. Happily, Rose had given her a free hand—a significant change from when Jaime was working here in high school. Back then, Rose had a strict protocol for the workshop—keep everything where she, and she alone, had put it. The organization made sense to Rose but no one else. The improved workshop was now ready for anyone to step in and find what they needed. “I suppose my time at Epic is now part of me.”
He gazed at her with a look she couldn’t quite discern. “Aye. I understand how that can happen.”
The kettle clicked off, so Jaime poured hot water into a cup with a teabag and handed it to him. “So what brings you here?”
He sat down on a stool to drink his tea. “A destination weddin’.”
So then, not me. She tried to hide her mounting disappointment by busying herself with cleaning off the workbench. “Where?”
“Here.”
She spun around to face him. “Here ... as in Sunrise?”
“Aye. Jaime, I came to see if y’ might be willin’ t’ help me pull this wedding off.”
“When is it?”
“As soon as humanly possible.”
Her eyes went wide. Weddings with Epic Events were booked a year in advance. Sometimes ... years ahead.
“I see the look of shock on yer face. ’Tis a long story, but this client’s ... well, she’s got some history with us. With you as well.”
Jaime’s mind flipped through a Rolodex as she recalled the Epic weddings she had worked on. A terrible thought bubbled up. Oh no. Please not...
“Aye.” He read her mind. “’Tis Mrs. Zimmerman. More specifically, her daughter. The very same one who eloped. Apparently, she didn’t elope after all. She just didn’t want her mother’s version of a wedding.”
Jaime had to sit down on the other stool. Mrs. Zimmerman’s daughter eloped (allegedly!) on the day of the planned wedding, leaving her mother’s dream of her daughter’s big day in tatters. “Why in the world would she want a wedding in Sunrise?”
“The daughter said she wanted a wedding to be the opposite of what her mother had planned for her. The place, the setting, even the date. Somehow”—he paused and looked away—“Sunrise came up in a conversation and she seemed to latch on to it.”
Confused, Jaime tried to put the pieces together. Why would Sunrise come up in a conversation with a New Yorker? It was a tiny mountain town that people flocked to in the summer to escape the city heat. Hardly anyone up north even knew of its existence.
“I know what yer thinkin’. The daughter, y’ see, knew about the Blooms to Bouquet contest, about you winning it and all, and she wanted you t’ do her flowers. I told her that wouldn’t be possible, seein’ as how y’ lived in Sunrise. She asked me some questions about Sunrise, and next thing I knew, she decided it sounded like just the place she had in mind for her wedding.”
“Here.” Jaime still couldn’t get her head around everything. Liam McMillan was here, in Rose’s Flower Shop, bringing in a client for a wedding. “Where is the venue for this wedding?” Summer was one thing, early fall was even better, but she couldn’t think of many options for a late fall/early winter wedding.
“That’s another reason I’m here. I need to find a venue. She’s got very specific ideas, this bride. A bit like her mother, though opposite from her mother in most every way. You’ve met her, I believe.”
“Yes, but only once. What I do remember was that she was extremely disinterested in her wedding.”
“Exactly. Because her mother was callin’ all the shots. This time, the daughter wants to call the shots.”
“Is the daughter as difficult as the mother?”
“Aye.” Spoken definitively.
“Liam, did it occur to you that you could say no? Decline the client?”
He blinked. “It did not.”
Jaime had to smile at that. Liam was so kind. It was one of the many reasons that he was so successful in a competitive industry, full of unkind people. It was also one of the reasons Jaime couldn’t get over him. She hung the tools she’d been collecting on the pegboard, swept discards off the workbench and into a trash bin, and picked up a pad of paper and a pen. She sat on a stool, pen poised, just like she was meeting with a new client. Trying very hard to keep her mind focused on the task at hand and not on Liam. After all, she told herself, he wasn’t here for her. He was here for a client. “So, then, let’s start a list. What kind of flowers does this difficult bride want? Actually, let’s back up a little. What kind of venue does she want?”
Liam leaned his back against the workbench and folded his arms against his chest. “Outdoors.”
“Outdoors,” Jaime repeated in a flat voice. “For a winter wedding.”
“Aye. Y’ see my dilemma. She wants it to be very ... hmm, how did she describe it? Earth mother–like. Nature nurturer, I believe, were her exact words. And yet lovely and refined. Elegant.”
“For an outdoor winter wedding.”
“Aye, and that’s why she chose Sunrise. She thinks the South has no winter.” He scratched his forehead. “I suppose it’s easier to pull off than skydiving while saying vows. That’s a recent request I handed off to Sloane.” He pointed a finger at her. “By the way, increasing Sloane’s responsibilities was a fine suggestion. She’s more than capable.”
So ... he had listened to Jaime. She’d felt so bad stepping out of Epic without notice that she gave him office staff recommendations. Sloane was the project manager who longed to plan events. Good for Sloane.
But it might have been nice to know that. Might have been nice to have heard from Liam now and then. Might have— No ma’am. Don’t go there. She pulled her thoughts back to the task at hand. Once she started down that personal path with Liam, of the romantic relationship that had barely lifted off the ground before it crashed and burned ... she would lose her focus. And right now, she needed to stay focused. She kept her eyes lowered to her pad of paper. “So let me get this straight. This bride wants a wedding opposite of everything her mama wanted. And she wants it to happen as soon as possible. That’s an opposite too. Her mama had been planning that wedding for two years.” She scrunched up her face. “ What is the big hurry, anyway?”
His beautiful eyes brimmed with humor as he waved his hand over his abdomen in a large arc. “A bairn is due soon.”
A bairn . A baby? “Oh my goodness. This truly is an opposite wedding.”
“That’s it! That’s what we’ll call it. The Opposite Wedding.” Liam chuckled, then slid into full laughter, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Y’ nailed it, lass.”
Oh, how she had missed his laugh. It was contagious. He’d always had a knack for making light of difficult situations, just the way he was doing now, and somehow things became manageable.
Slowly, he sobered up. “So will y’ help me, Jaime? You’re just the one I need. You know this area. You know the bride’s mother. If you just keep in mind that it’s an opposite wedding, we’ll have a happy bride.” He couldn’t have looked any more pleased.
And Jaime couldn’t be any more crushed. She could’ve cried. Liam hadn’t come to Sunrise for her. He was here to give another bride her perfect wedding day. It’s what he did, what he was known for.
“There’s one aspect to this wedding that isn’t the opposite. No budget. Truly. The bride’s father is o’er the moon that his daughter will be made an honest woman before the bairn arrives. He’s gone around his wife to let me know that we’re to do whatever the bride wants to do and send the bills to him.”
Jaime heard Claire arrive for the day and abruptly rose from the stool. “I’ll see what I can come up with and get back to you soon.” She tried to sound utterly professional as she concluded a client meeting. Calm, cool, and collected. The truth was, she wanted Liam to leave the store before she lost the composure she was barely clinging to. Despite her best efforts, she could feel a hot flush creeping up her chest. Soon it would reach her face, turning it a telltale, double-crossing bright red.
A look of confusion flicked over his face, but then he heard the sounds of Claire in the front of the shop. He rose from the stool and paused, as if he had more to say, but then changed his mind. “Sounds like your workday has started. I’ll be off, then.” He stopped at the door that led to the front of the shop and turned to Jaime. “Thank you.”
Without even looking him in the eye, she said, “Don’t thank me yet. I really have no idea what kind of venue would work to satisfy an earth mama.”
“I have confidence in you, lass. I’m heading to Atlanta to meet a client, but I’ll be back in a few days.”
See? Her feelings dipped even lower. If she needed any more evidence that he hadn’t come to Sunrise for Jaime’s sake, hadn’t missed her or thought about her, he’d just handed it to her on a silver platter. Liam was just passing through on his way to Atlanta. She picked up a broom to start cleaning up the floor of discarded, wilted blooms and stems. Staying busy was the only way she could avoid blurting out what was on the tip of her tongue: “Go! Be gone! Go back to New York City and take your phony-baloney Scottish accent with you.”
An accent she adored hearing. And right behind that was the realization that she wasn’t sure she could ever make herself stop loving him.