Chapter Eight Odette
Chapter Eight
Odette
As much as Saturdays are for dinners at the Stevenses’, Sundays are for breakfasts with the Chambers women.
Every Sunday, we meet at the diner, take up two tables, and gab for hours until we’re all talked out.
It’s my favorite day of the week.
Not just because I love my family, but because these are the only other people who truly understand what I’m dealing with—the curse.
They all live it themselves, so they know how challenging it can be, and why it’s because of the curse that my business is failing. Or at least that’s what I choose to believe because there is no way I’m that bad of a wedding planner . . . right?
“He was bald! His profile picture showed a full head of hair, but I swear, that man could have been a cosplayer for Mr. Clean, especially since he wore all white.” My aunt Krista shakes her head as she recounts the fiasco that was her latest date.
I keep trying to tell her this is what happens on dating apps, but she won’t listen.
She’s determined to find someone. She’s one of the few of us who haven’t given up on love completely.
“All white to a pizzeria? Is he a supervillain or something?” my mother says. “I’d have dropped sauce all over myself in the first five minutes. Everyone knows the pizza at I Heart Pizza Pie is extra saucy.”
“That’s what I thought. And honestly, I wouldn’t have cared if he were bald. I think bald men are sexy. What I didn’t like was being lied to about it. I should have seen it coming, though.” She crosses her arms over her chest, sitting back in her seat. “All men do is lie.”
Unfortunately for my aunt, her only “marriage” was to a man who was already married. He bled her bank account, then fled the country with his actual wife and two kids. It was a whole huge thing and shook our small community. There was even national media coverage.
Now, though, she’s back on the dating scene, and it’s going about as well as any of us expected—poorly.
That’s the curse for you, though. It’s been like that for all our lives, and it’s clearly not going to change anytime soon. Some of us find moments of happiness, but it’s never true. It’s never lasting.
As much as I try to deny it, I want true. I want lasting.
“Someone else tell a story. Mine is making me sad,” Krista says.
At once, everyone at the table looks to me.
“What?” I ask, blinking at them. “I’m not dating anyone right now.”
“Or ever again,” my cousin Lucille remarks.
She’s right. I don’t plan to ever date seriously again. One-night stands? Sure. I’ll have those to scratch my itches. But full-on dating? No, thank you. I’ll pass.
Besides, I have bigger fish to fry, like making sure my business doesn’t go kaput and that I don’t go completely broke in the meantime.
I shrug, not a bit bothered by it.
Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
If I weren’t bothered by it, I wouldn’t have been disappointed yesterday when Noah didn’t kiss me. It was silly to think he was going to. I know that. And it was even more foolish to let myself want it.
Ugh, Noah.
Just thinking about him has my cheeks heating.
“Nice panties, Odie.”
His parting words stayed with me all night long and were the first thing I thought about this morning.
It wasn’t just what he said. It was how he said it. Like he’d been looking at them, and I don’t mean a passing glance. I mean looking looking.
And I’m still not sure how I feel about that.
I do know that I’m nervous about spending time with Noah, and that’s never happened before.
What if . . . what if I wasn’t imagining things in the kitchen? What if he truly was about to kiss me?
No, no. Stop it, Odette. Stop getting your hopes up. You aren’t a sixteen-year-old girl with a crush anymore. You’re an adult. He wasn’t trying to kiss you.
Right. It was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“You’re still a secret romantic like the rest of us. You wouldn’t be planning all these weddings if you weren’t,” Aunt Krista says.
They all nod, agreeing with her.
“Am not.”
“Whatever you say, dear.” She takes a sip of her drink and flags down our server. “Another round of mimosas, Uli!”
“Coming right up, Ms. Krista.”
I swear she blushes.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe I am a secret romantic. I wouldn’t be so in love with weddings if I weren’t, right?
“You’re too young to swear off love, little one,” Nonna says from across the table like she can read my mind.
Little one, her name for me because I’m the youngest child of her youngest daughter.
“I’m not swearing off love,” I lie to her.
“Hmm.”
There’s so much disapproval in one sound that it has me sitting up straighter, raising my chin. “I’m just . . . I’m focusing on my business, that’s all. Now I just need one of you to find love so I can plan more weddings and generate more buzz for Chambers Charming Ceremonies. So, chop-chop!”
“Isn’t that what Izzy’s wedding is for? How’s that coming, by the way?” Lucille asks.
She’s right. That is what Izzy’s wedding is for, and—not to get ahead of myself—I think it might be working.
I’ve already received four emails from potential clients just since last week.
Sure, they’ve all put stipulations along the lines of “we’ll see how Izzy’s wedding goes,” but it’s still something. A step in the right direction.
I hope.
“Good. Great, actually. I think I’ve found a new caterer and florist to work with, and more importantly, we found a venue.”
“Where?” This from my other cousin.
“Stick Taps.”
They all gasp, and it’s not even them being dramatic.
Every person in this town knows about Noah’s relationship with his ex-wife. The divorce was tumultuous, at least on her end. He tried to settle things civilly, but she wasn’t having it. She wanted everything from him and then some.
I don’t know the particulars of how they settled it, but I do know that whatever it was, it made Noah the grumpy man he is today. He’d always been a bit quiet and surly, but nothing like he is now. He was never anti-love, that’s for sure.
“Oh, that’s going to be beautiful,” Lucille’s mom says, hand over her chest. “That farm is just darling. Tell me you’re using the barn for the reception.”
Aunt Collette has always loved weddings like me, so I’m not surprised that’s instantly where her mind went.
I nod. “We are. They’ll be exchanging vows in the field with the Cascades in the background, then guests can mill about the cidery for a cocktail hour while the newlyweds take photos. We’ll finish the night with a party in the newly renovated barn. I’m helping Noah work on it.”
“You?!”
I glare at my cousin. “I don’t appreciate that tone, Margie, but yes. Me. Why do you sound so surprised?”
Every woman at the table exchanges a glance, but it’s my nonna who speaks up.
“Because you’re you, Odette. You wore heels to the movie theater last week.”
I open my mouth to argue, but then I remember, yeah, I did do that. And I looked damn good in them too.
But I don’t see why that matters.
“Well, heels or no heels, I’m still helping him. I’m heading back out there tomorrow, actually.”
“So you’re telling me you’re spending all your days with Noah Stevens?”
I glance at my other cousin, who is practically foaming at the mouth at the idea. “Yeah . . .”
“Ugh.” She tosses herself back in her chair. “You’re so lucky. That man is . . . he makes my lady bits tingly, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Jody Ann!” Aunt Krista chastises her daughter.
She just shrugs. “What? I’m just saying. You know it’s true.”
“Well . . .” Krista wiggles around in her chair. “He did grow up to be a fine young man.”
“Ew. He’s, like, forty,” Lucille says.
“He’s thirty-eight,” I correct. Several ladies of the group raise their brows at that. “Not that it matters,” I add. “But I’m just saying. He’s not forty yet.”
My mother makes a noise that has my attention swinging her way. She sips on her mimosa, looking anywhere but at me. Still, I can tell she wants to say something, so I ask her.
“No, nothing to say, Odie.”
My cheeks heat, and I wish I could say it wasn’t because of that damn nickname, but it is.
And Noah. It always leads back to him.
Luckily for me, the conversation turns to something else—Jody Ann and her new professor boyfriend—and I’m able to escape without any further questions about Noah.
He doesn’t escape my mind, though. No, he’s still right at the front, the same place he’s been for days now.
“Nice panties, Odie.”
I swallow the lump that’s settled into my throat, then reach for my mimosa, hoping nobody notices my shaky hand as I replay the words in my mind over and over.
His deep voice. That not-so-subtle cocky smirk of his. It was too much. I have no idea how long I stayed sitting in my car staring after the spot he vacated, but it was long enough that by the time I got home, Beans was pissed at me for serving her dinner late.
I couldn’t move, though.
“Nice panties, Odie.”
He said it so casually, as if that wasn’t a top-five most embarrassing moment of my life.
And though I’m sure I was imagining it—just like I was when I thought he was about to kiss me—there was a sparkle in his eye.
A flirty kind of sparkle. The ones you see in the movies when the hero is looking at the heroine with all the charm in the world and it’s working.
God, did it work.
“You coming, Odette?”
I snap my head up, surprised to find everyone standing, gathering their purses.
Oh. I guess breakfast is over.
I missed the last half of it, my mind out at the cidery.
“Yeah, sorry. Just finishing this drink.”
I tilt my mimosa back, even though the glass is bone dry.
Jody Ann’s brows wrinkle, but she doesn’t say anything.
I shove to my feet and slip my bag over my head. I reach inside and toss a twenty down for a tip. We might sit here for hours and drink far too many mimosas, but we always leave the server a little extra for having to deal with us. I’m convinced it’s why they let us keep coming back.
Nonna leads us out of the diner as usual, and we all line up for hugs.