Chapter 6
Alyssa was at home in her apartment, a sunny space with pearl-gray walls and baseboards she’d painted a glossy white to cover what must have been decades of scuff marks. She was flopped on a charcoal linen sofa, propped up by two textured white pillows. A cheap framed print of Monet’s Nymphéas, 1916–1919, hung over the sofa, the water lilies floating on a lake of lavender that echoed the purple accents on her white bookcase—an asymmetrical vase and a pair of glass candlesticks. It was a cool, sophisticated space, and she loved it. And she had enough money socked away to keep it for several more months, so that was something.
She sighed and turned back toward her laptop. The design for Nick’s apartment was going well. The living room had been fairly easy—big, comfortable furniture, broad tables that could take feet being propped on them, or drinks without coasters. He didn’t look like a coaster kind of guy. But it seemed lacking somehow, and she knew what it was—there wasn’t anything of him in the space. She had some hockey memorabilia and a print of Bobby Orr horizontal over the ice after his 1970 Stanley Cup winning goal. Her stepdad had helped her figure out what to choose there.
But the space felt … generic. Too sports bar.
When she’d been measuring the rooms, she’d opened his kitchen cabinets—he had two place settings of Corelle ware. So she’d chosen a dish pattern—round and white. Traditional and serviceable, but so boring. But if she went with square black ones or an Asian-inspired watercolor design—well, what evidence was there that he’d like that? And she wasn’t going with a floral. Despite his passivity in the face of an apartment redo, she planned to wow him—to win him over to the side of well-designed interior spaces. She just wasn’t sure how.
She looked up his contact info now and texted him. Nick? This is Alyssa. Could I drop by this afternoon with some samples for you to look at? She was going to pick up a few single plates so he could feel the weight of them, see them in his hand. And she could gauge his reaction in person—better, in this case, than just sending links. If she tried that, she was almost positive she’d get a “They’re all fine” return text—and that he wouldn’t have opened any of the links.
Her phone rang and she smiled—he’d called! Then she saw the number, shook her head, and answered.
“Alyssa, hear me out,” Janet said. It was her traditional greeting.
“It’s a wedding, isn’t it?”
Alyssa heard her old friend sigh through the line. “It’s always a wedding. They’re the worst. I have all the table decorations to do yet, and there was a delivery mix-up, and I just … need some help.”
“Where are you?” Alyssa asked.
“Doing it on-site. St. John’s Lutheran. The parish center, behind the church.”
“When is the wedding?”
“The reception starts at six PM.”
“Today?”
“Heeelp meee.”
Alyssa laughed. She had worked at a party shop in high school, starting when she was fifteen, when they moved out of the car, and their lives started getting back on track. She sold napkins and blew up balloons and stocked the shelves with blue and pink plastic storks. Sometimes she helped the customers actually plan themes for their parties, and ensured they had everything they needed. She loved it. It was also where she’d met Janet, who’d worked there longer and had keys to the store. One night, after hours, Janet had broken out the helium tank and they’d huffed it, quoting movie scenes in squeaky voices and giggling hysterically—until on a whim Alyssa did some googling and found out huffing helium could be dangerous.
When the owner of that party shop added event planning as a genuine sideline—not just recommending color schemes or finding coordinating products—Janet made sure that Alyssa got experience planning parties too. They were only four years apart in age, but it had seemed like a lot at the time. Janet always treated her as an equal, though, and Alyssa would forever be grateful.
A year after Alyssa went off to college, Janet bought the business. It turned out that running the place was a lot different from punching the clock, and Janet had called on Alyssa more than once to help out in a pinch. Alyssa was happy to do it, for old times’ sake.
“I’m supposed to meet a Persian rug rep this afternoon, just to see their new line,” Alyssa said. “I can reschedule that with no problem. You need me to bring anything?”
“Your superior party planning skills,” Janet replied breezily.
Alyssa blew air out. She’d left the party planning business and had no intention of going back. During the summers in college she’d worked a job at a small design firm. It wasn’t anything fancy and the older woman who ran it acknowledged Alyssa’s point that it needed a better sign and some sort of advertising—they were getting by on repeat clients and had little discoverability. But the owner was winding down and simply hadn’t cared. When Alyssa graduated, she’d applied all over town, and the one place where she got an interview was one of the best—Stacey’s Interiors.
“I’ll just be tying raffia around mason jars or whatever you’re doing. I won’t be planning anything.”
“Thank yooouuu! Please break several traffic laws on the way here.” Janet made a kiss sound and hung up. Alyssa looked at the phone and shook her head, then called and rescheduled with the carpet sales rep.
The trip to St. John’s took longer than she’d expected, in part because she stopped by a sub shop and picked up a sandwich to eat in the car. When she got there, she hurried into the parish center, where she could see several stacked boxes—undoubtedly supplies Janet was using for the reception decor. Not a good look a few hours before the reception. She hurried in. “Janet, I’m here.”
Her friend turned in her seat at a long folding table. “Oh thank god. I am overwhelmed.” She stood and gave Alyssa a quick hug.
“Why are you here alone?”
“Roberta got drunk again. We’re being honest, right? She threw up in the bathroom and went home. So now the bathroom smells, and I have ten thousand billion water lilies to deal with.”
“Water lilies? I love water lilies. Did you get them from Emma?”
“Yeah, she came through for me. She had to jump through some hoops to get them too.”
“We three need a girls’ night out soon. You’re the best friends ever.”
“We are!” Janet said. “Speaking of which, start by propping open the bathroom door so it airs out.”
Alyssa gave her a fake dead-eye stare, then made a genuine face when she opened the door and the vomit odor hit her. “At least she didn’t make a mess,” she said as she pulled up a chair and opened a box to peek inside.
“Oh, she did. Cleaning that up was my top priority.”
“I can see that. And ugh—sorry you had to deal with it. Why do you keep her anyway?”
“Because my bestie and favorite party planner got a new job as an interior designer. How’s that going, anyway?”
Alyssa shook her head. “Tell me what to do before we start talking.”
“Good point. So this couple met when they were both walking in a park. The dog of one of the brides got loose and charged the other bride, who fell into the pond she was walking past.”
“Oh my gosh,” Alyssa said.
“She surfaced with a lily pad on her head, and instead of apologizing, the first woman laughed. And then a frog jumped off the wet one’s shoulder and she screamed, and the first woman laughed harder.”
Alyssa gaped. “This resulted in a wedding?”
“It did!” Janet said. “A water lily–themed wedding. So the caterer is setting up the tables and cloths, but I need the centerpieces ready to slap down as soon as the tables are set. We have these square mirrors, and these low flat bowls to sit on top. Put three of the pink-with-yellow water lilies in each, and three tea light candles floating between.”
“We’ll need to fill them with water now to keep the flowers fresh …” Alyssa said.
“… and then move them to the tables already full of water. Yes! Isn’t life a delight? But yeah, preventing drooping is top priority.”
Alyssa’s phone buzzed but she ignored it. “What else is there?” Alyssa said. “The caterer is decorating the cake?”
“Yes, but there is plenty for you to do, my talented friend! Why don’t you throw the centerpieces together, and then—”
“How many?”
“Thirty!” Janet said.
“Thirty? Why are these people so popular?”
“I know, right? Stupid popular people. Oh god, they’re good-looking too. Wait till you see them.”
“Well, this shouldn’t take too long. It’s mostly cutting the stems.”
“And then you can do the decorations for the head table, the buffet table, and the cake table, while I string up the arch over the entryway.”
“No. There is not an archway.”
“Indeed! And all fresh flowers and ribbons and shit wired on.”
“Gonna be hard to wire the shit,” Alyssa mused, forefinger pressed to her lips.
“I cannot currently sass you because I need help so badly, so don’t say things that require sass from me.”
Alyssa flipped open another box, found what she was looking for, and began laying mirror squares out on the table. “That is precisely why I can indulge in witty rejoinders.” She grinned at her friend.
Alyssa stacked the mirror squares, thinking it would be easiest to place them on the tables separately rather than trying to carry them with bowls full of water on top of them once the caterers had the tables ready. She got the bowls out and went into the parish hall kitchen to poke around for a pitcher to fill them. Her phone buzzed again. She blew a stray strand of blond hair out of her face and checked it.
Nick, forty minutes ago: Sure. Drop by when you want. I’ll be here till 4.
Nick, just now: Are you coming by?
Crap crap crap.
Alyssa texted back: Oh so sorry! A friend is having an emergency. Can we reschedule?
She saw the three little dots scrolling, indicating that he was writing back. “What are you doing?” Janet called. “These water lilies aren’t going to shove themselves in bowls!”
Nick: I’m sorry to hear that.
Nick: We’re leaving tomorrow for a ten-day road trip. Maybe after that?
Nick: Hope your friend’s okay. ?
“He used a sad face!” Alyssa called. “I love a man who’s not afraid of an emoji.”
“Who did? And does he know how to pour water in a bowl? Get him over here.”
“Oh, a client.” She smiled at the phone, rereading his messages.
Janet straightened from her position by the white lattice archway over the door where the new couple would enter the reception hall. “Your face doesn’t say client. Your face says hot guy.”
Alyssa flushed. “No, he’s a client.”
“You realize your circulatory system has weighed in, right? Gooey expression and pink cheeks do not equal ‘client.’”
Those aren’t the only parts that think he’s handsome.
Alyssa texted back. My friend is an event planner! That’s what I used to do. Her coworker got—Alyssa hesitated—sick, and we’re trying to geteverythingfinished before the wedding reception tonight.
Alyssa: Sorry I gave the wrong impression.
She saw the three little dots.
Nick: Whew. Will the wedding be saved?
Alyssa: It will be! I’m shoving water lilies into bowls as we speak.
Nick: Careful. You’re gonna piss off Monet.
Alyssa stared at the screen. He didn’t seem like an art guy. Then again, Monet’s water-lily paintings weren’t exactly obscure.
Alyssa: I’ll keep an eye out for Frenchmen in berets.
Nick: Just watch for dead Frenchmen in black berets. That’s what he wore in his self-portrait. Dead guys in blue berets are probably fine.
She stared at the screen. He couldn’t have looked the painting up that fast. She ran a quick search on Claude Monet’s self-portrait. Black beret. I’ll be darned. She bit her lip, took a deep breath, and texted again.
Alyssa: Long shot, and no pressure AT ALL, but if you want to see some samples before your road trip, you’re welcome to drop by here. She hit “Send,” then wanted to stuff herself into one of the centerpiece bowls. As if he were desperate to fight traffic to see dish patterns. Because of course he was—the guy who had no opinion whatsoever what his completely empty apartment should look like.
Her phone buzzed.
Nick: Sure. Where are you?
Nick: Will I be safe from the scary wedding reception?
She smiled. St. John’s Lutheran Parish Center. Flee if you see any black berets.
Nick: I’ll be there in 20.
Alyssa smiled, laid her phone down on the table, and turned to see Janet staring at her. “What? Oh, by the way, the client is going to stop by to look at some samples.” Her eyes flew wide. “The samples, which I completely forgot to pick up after you sent up the bat signal.” She’d been going to stop at a store on the way to the carpet consultation. Which meant she’d just lured Nick Sorensen to a random Lutheran church on the promise of looking at dishes that did not exist. She sat down and began scrolling madly on her phone, checking the inventory of a favorite store.
“Alyssa, I am seriously panicking here,” Janet said. “Please do some work.”
She looked up, her expression guilty. “I’m sorry. This is an important client, and I kind of messed up.”
Janet smirked. “Aw, look at you smile.”
“I hate you,” Alyssa said. “But I will still put candles in your bowls.”
Nick got there exactly when predicted, which seemed a little fast for the distance involved. His car nosed into a parking spot at the far end of the line, and he stepped out—in a charcoal-gray suit, white shirt, and black and blue tie. He opened the door to the parish center and stepped in, smiling at Alyssa. “Hey.”
Janet stood by the arbor with her mouth open, a bucket of water lilies beside her, a roll of florist’s wire forgotten in her hand.
“Hi!” Alyssa said. Squeak. Dammit. “Um, sorry about …” She waved a hand vaguely at the room. “Oh, this is my friend Janet.” Nick raised a hand. “Janet, this is Nick Sorensen.”
“Dang. I know,” Janet said. Nick grinned. “Don’t you clean up nice.”
“Um, come on over,” Alyssa said. “I just wanted to get an idea of your taste in tableware. I was having trouble choosing something you’d like.”
They pulled chairs up to one of the round guest tables, still without its cloth, and Alyssa produced her phone. She hoped he didn’t know she should be more prepared—that this presentation of samples should be more formal. “So what shape plates would you like?” she said, scrolling to a screen that showed different outlines.
“Round.”
An answer? Really?Predictable, but an answer. “Okay! That’s easy. And what color?” She braced herself.
“Black.”
She looked at him. “Black?”
He grinned. “Like a puck.”
“Are … is that really what you want?”
He shrugged. “I don’t care. I just thought that would be funny.” She dropped her head into her hand and looked sideways at him. “Is it possible I’m not as funny as I think?” That brought a small smile from her.
“Hey, Nick,” Janet called. “Do you actually give a crap about your dishes?”
“Nope.”
“Then could you grab that pitcher and fill those shallow bowls about two-thirds full?”
“Janet!” Alyssa said.
“I’m sorry, but I’m having a crisis here, and he looks strong enough to lift a pitcher.”
Nick stood and walked over to the table, picked up the pitcher, and shambled into the kitchen. The women exchanged a wide-eyed look. “Nick Sorensen?” Janet mouthed.
“Yep,” Alyssa mouthed back.
“He likes you.”
“He doesn’t.” But she smiled. When Nick returned, she walked over and tried to take the pitcher from him, but he didn’t let it go. The result was that she had wrapped her hand over his. “You’re obviously going somewhere,” she said. “We can’t let you get wet.”
He looked at her for a moment, confused, then glanced at his suit and flushed. “Oh, I put this on because you said it was a wedding reception. I didn’t want to embarrass you if there were other people around. I mean, I was wearing sweats and no socks.”
Behind Nick, Janet raised her eyebrows significantly, then wiggled them wildly until Alyssa acknowledged her with an irritated shooing motion by her thigh. Nick turned. “These bowls?”
“Those are the ones!” Janet beamed. “I finally got some good help.”
“Hey!” Alyssa said.
They worked for half an hour, Nick and Alyssa putting the centerpieces together, then working on the decorations for the head table. Nick cut the water lily stems to the length Alyssa showed him while she lined the vases with aspidistra leaves. “Is there a reason you’re being so helpful?” she said.
“It distracts you from dishes,” he said.
“Oh! About that, I was thinking …”
He moaned softly.
“Hey, what are you crazy kids doing over there?” Janet called. “This is a wedding, not a honeymoon.” Alyssa flushed furiously. Nick smirked. “Actually, I need your help over here.” Janet was on a stepstool beside the arch. She had the water lilies and some lily of the valley wired in, and was holding a huge roll of pink tulle ribbon. Nick looked at Alyssa and shrugged, and they walked over. Janet stepped back and grabbed her phone.
“Can you guys stand in there for a second? I need to see how high to put the bow.”
“The bow?” Alyssa said. What difference would …
Nick obediently stepped into the archway. “Just pretend to be the newlyweds,” Janet said. She looked around the phone and smiled. “This helps so much!” She clicked a photo of them standing under the arch of flowers.
Janet lowered the phone and her lips twisted to the side. “I think it may cut off the groom’s head, though.” Alyssa’s eyes snapped over to her. There was no “groom” in this wedding. What was her friend pulling? Janet smiled sweetly. “It would help so much if you—I hope this isn’t asking too much—but I need to know if the bow height will work when they kiss.”
Alyssa stared at her. Beside her Nick looked between them and then turned slightly toward her. She was going to kill Janet. She was going to stab her through the heart with a water lily stem. It might take a while, but she had the will to see the job through.
“Is that okay?” Nick whispered, his lips by her ear. She thought she might melt, puddle on the floor, and stain his Italian leather shoes.
“Um, I don’t want to … impose. You really don’t have to. Um, if you don’t want.” She risked a glance up at him. His ridiculously handsome jaw hovered dangerously close, and his eyes were looking at her, a touch of amusement in them, along with a touch of something else. Longing? And then he slipped an arm around her, put his hand on her lower back, and bent to kiss her.
He pulled her to him, arching her ever so slightly backward. His arm was hard, and the chest he pulled her into was a slab of muscle. But his lips were soft and the kiss was gentle. Her mouth moved against his, wanting more than this chaste brush against her lips. Her whole body wanted more. She put her hand on his back, steadying herself as he melted her core.
And then he released her and looked up at Janet. “Was that good?”
Oh God, yes. That was very, very good,Alyssa thought.
“Yes, that helped so much. Thank you!” Janet said.
Nick looked down at Alyssa and flushed slightly. “Well. Looking at dishes was more fun than I’d I expected.” He gave her his rakish grin.
“Wait till we choose end tables,” she said, then flushed. Holy crap, why had she said that? Janet snorted and Nick laughed, lifted her hand in his large, strong one, and gave it a tiny squeeze. “I can’t wait.” He lifted one eyebrow, then stepped out of the archway and said, “I better be off. Any plates are fine. Hope the reception goes well.” He walked off to his sports car and lifted a hand to Alyssa, who was watching him through the parish center window as he got in, and drove away.
Alyssa wheeled on her friend. “You had to check the bow height? That doesn’t even make sense. That’s not a thing!”
Janet shrugged. “Yeah, but he doesn’t know that. And look, I have two pictures of you kissing Nick Sorensen.” She turned her phone so Alyssa could see the screen.
“We’re standing under a floral arch, he’s wearing a tailored suit, and I’m in skinny jeans and tennis shoes! It looks like I wore skinny jeans to my wedding!”
Janet gave her a wolf grin. “If you finish your work, I will send you these pictures and not post them on the interweb claiming that you got married in inappropriate attire.”
“You’re blackmailing me!”
“I’m not sure threatening to post a photo of you kissing Nick Sorensen qualifies as blackmail. First, he is hot. Second, wow is he hot.” Janet put her phone down and grabbed the roll of tulle ribbon again. “I’ll send these to you later, but I’m going to keep a copy and photoshop myself into your spot. And blow it up to poster size and tape it to my bedroom wall.”
Alyssa snorted and turned back to the water lilies. She’d been humming and smiling for five minutes before she realized that she was humming and smiling. And that Janet was watching her with a look of smug amusement.