Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Good morning, Reese, my dear,” Monica says, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she walks over to the counter and air-kisses me on both cheeks. Her perfume, a mix of gardenias and spice, fills my nostrils, making me feel slightly lightheaded. She’s dressed to the nines as usual, in a fitted baby-blue suit that perfectly matches her designer handbag. Her dark hair is swept up in a loose chignon, with a few artfully curled tendrils framing her face.
“These are absolutely stunning,” she says, leaning in to smell the bouquet of roses and peonies on the counter. She closes her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply, before returning her sharp gaze to mine.
“Thank you, Monica,” I say, trying to keep my voice light and even.
“Really quite lovely,” she continues, her fingers brushing delicately over the velvety petals. “Are these from Tucker? Or Zach?”
My stomach drops, and a sickly feeling tightens around my chest. Did she just say Zach? I think, panic rising in my throat like bile.
“From Tucker,” I manage, my voice sounding strained to my own ears.
“Oh.” She arches an eyebrow, her lips curving into a knowing smirk. “These look like apology flowers. Did you two have a fight last night?”
I want to brush off her comment, to laugh and tell her she’s being ridiculous. But the way her eyes are boring into mine, sharp and probing, makes me feel like a naughty child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“Oh, you know, just a little pre-wedding disagreement over some details. We’re so excited about the big day.” My voice sounds tense, awkward. I swallow hard, trying to moisten my dry mouth. “What can I do for you, Monica? Is there something you need for the wedding?”
“Oh, well, I was just checking in on you.” Monica’s eyes narrow slightly. “You know, to see how you were doing. The wedding is just a few days away. The week of my own wedding, I was just a mess.”
I find this hard to believe. But I paint a smile on my face as she continues.
“It was an incredible amount of pressure. I started to make some questionable decisions.”
The way she enunciates “questionable decisions” makes my stomach bunch up in knots. She’s going somewhere with this, and I know I’m not going to like it. I clear my throat.
“Oh, well, you know, I’m doing fine. I just had my dress fitting and it went really well. The dress is gorgeous. But I am looking forward to getting the wedding over with, so Tucker and I can start enjoying our life together.”
“You’re not enjoying it now?”
“I just meant?—”
“Well, I admire your grace under pressure, Reese,” she says, absently fingering a magnolia pedal. “By the way, I saw you the other day at Marla’s with Zach. You two looked pretty cozy.”
Oh, here we go. That familiar heat crawls up the sides of my cheeks.
“Oh, Zach? He’s just been working with me on the museum gala. He’s actually in charge of running the event this year and I’ve been working with him on the catering.”
“Yes, I heard. Under the Sea is the theme for this year. I had an invitation, but of course I’ll be at a wedding this Saturday.”
The way she says it…it takes everything in me not to shove her right out of my shop. But I pull together a tight smile.
“Yes. As you can see”—I point to the table inside the tasting room full of decorated pastries—“I’ve been working all week to get these finished.” I breathe in through my nose. Maybe leveling with her is the best approach. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Monica. There’s nothing going on with me and Zach. That’s all in the past.”
“Of course, of course,” Monica says, waving her hand. “Tucker knows about you and Zach working together, right?”
The heat in my cheeks intensifies. “Yes—I mean, no—” I’m stammering now.
Pull it together, Reese.
“I haven’t told him about it. I mean, he knows about the gala, but he doesn’t know that Zach and I are working together.”
She pulls off a petal from one of the flowers and rolls it between her fingertips before dropping it on the counter. I watch her, frozen where I’m standing. She pulls her head back and looks down her nose at me.
“You tell Tucker that you’ve been working with Zach, or I’ll have to do it for you. Walking down the aisle with a secret between the two of you is no way to start a marriage.” She pauses. “Tucker is my cousin. We grew up together. He’s practically my brother. If I get wind that you’re sneaking around behind his back with your ex-boyfriend? After what he’s been through?” She narrows her eyes at me. “I’ll make sure you never do business in this town.”
I can feel the blood pulsing behind my eyes as I try to process her audacity. I’m so completely shocked by her open threat that my mouth drops open of its own accord. It takes everything in me not to reach over the counter and grab the lapels of her tailored suit.
How dare she…
“As I told you before, Monica, you have nothing to worry about.”
She leans back, as if appraising me. “You have until tomorrow morning before I tell Tucker myself,” she says with an air of finality. Just as I open my mouth to respond, Bernie emerges from the back of the shop. Her presence suddenly breaks the tension in the room. I force myself to let out a breath and take a step back.
“Monica, how lovely to see you,” Bernie greets her with a smile.
“Hello, Bernie,” Monica responds, her eyes darting between the two of us. “I should be on my way now.”
With a dramatic turn on her heel, she turns and clicks her heels out of the room. The tension lingers in the air even after she’s gone, leaving me reeling.
“What was that all about?” Bernie asks.
“What?” I turn to her, my cheeks still hot. “Oh, it was nothing, Monica was just complaining about the seating arrangement at the reception. You know how particular she is…”
“I’ve heard,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Listen, I have a few errands to run this afternoon. Do you mind if I leave a little early?”
“Of course not. Go ahead, no problem.”
“Thanks,” she says, then disappears back into the shop.
After Bernie is gone, I find myself alone in the stillness of the bakery, my thoughts spinning so fast it makes me dizzy. I can’t shake the image of Monica’s face as she left, the way her eyes had flashed with a mixture of triumph and warning.
I hate to admit it, but she’s right.
I need to tell Tucker about Zach. I was just planning on telling him after the wedding. I knew he would be annoyed, maybe even angry, but I would assure him he had nothing to worry about. But now, with Monica’s warning ringing in my ears and the pressure of my own guilt, I know that I can’t wait. I have to lay all my cards on the table, tell him everything. I just hope he understands.