Chapter 13 Cindy
The black SUV that pulled up to the lodge could have been carrying a head of state.
Dominique stepped out first, wrapped in a snow-white belted coat, her eyes covered by sunglasses large enough to double as shields.
Behind her, a young man in a beanie and a leather jacket hauled some bags and equipment, then a woman with a makeup bag strapped across her body like a medic kit emerged to scan the porch with a judgmental gaze.
“Hello, I’m Dominique Parrish,” she announced, as though the name itself were trademarked. “You must be Candy.”
“Cindy,” she corrected, extending a gloved hand. “Cindy Kessler. Welcome to Snowberry Lodge. We’re so thrilled you could—”
“Cute,” Dominique interrupted, glancing up at the recently refurbished roof.
Cute? The roof was forty thousand dollars’ worth of shingled perfection.
“Rustic without being too folksy,” Dominique continued.
“Could film well, depending on the light. Parker, get some shots before it clouds over. He’s my cameraman and muscle.
This is Sloane.” She gestured toward the other woman, a petite brunette who couldn’t be twenty-five, currently reading her phone.
“She’s makeup and brains. Keeps me organized, beautiful, and on time. ”
Sloane looked up and gave a smile that certainly didn’t reach her eyes. Then she tapped the screen in her hand. “Speaking of,” she said, “you have exactly two hours and forty-two minutes until we have to be at the Grand Hyatt, Dom. Make them count.”
“Oh, is that where you’re staying?” Cindy asked, fighting the punch of disappointment that they had chosen her nemesis hotel. Before Matt’s extravagant gift, she’d lost so much business to the name-brand resort strategically situated near a Deer Valley lift line.
“No, we have a rental.”
“Then…are you skiing or…”
Dominique threw her a look. “There’s another bride having a small wedding there and the third is at a restaurant in town.”
Cindy frowned, not sure she followed. “So, you’ll be filming three weddings while you’re here?”
“Oh, heavens, no,” she scoffed and threw a look at Sloane. “We’d die! No, just one, but we’re making the final decision after seeing all three.”
For a moment, Cindy felt the blood rush out of her head. “You mean…you’re not…definitely using Snowberry Lodge?” There hadn’t been any talk of competing for this honor.
“We just couldn’t decide, so we narrowed it to three. An old-fashioned lodge, a modern hotel, and a chic restaurant.” She gave a tight smile. “We’ll pick the one that works best.”
“Oh…I, uh, misunderstood,” Cindy murmured, really not wanting any more stress and not loving “old-fashioned” as her descriptor. “I thought you’d—”
“There are so many options,” Dominique said. “Who knew Park City was such a destination wedding spot?”
Cindy knew. She kept her chin up and gestured for them all to come inside. “My sister and co-owner has warm pastries and drinks for you. Cocoa or tea or—”
Dominique snorted. “You can’t see it, but under this coat is a body that never ate a warm pastry. Just take me to the venue and let’s get to work.”
“I’ll take one,” Parker called out as he planted a stabilizer in the snow. “Pastry sounds dope.”
Breezing by her, Dominique stepped up to the porch, flicking her fingers toward the adorable wooden snowman with a scarf MJ had knitted herself.
“Love that. A total cheesefest, but it could sell.”
A…cheesefest?
Cindy shook off the insult and led them through the lodge to show them around.
Dominique whipped around the first floor during a tour she obviously didn’t want to take. She managed a cursory wave to MJ, who stood at the ready with her scones and tea like the Queen herself had arrived.
“It’s quaint,” she announced when Cindy breathlessly finished.
Somehow “quaint” didn’t sound complimentary.
“You haven’t seen the property,” Cindy said. “We have six cabins on twenty-five—”
“Where’s the Starling Room?” Dominique demanded, whipping out of her coat and throwing it across a sofa.
“I was saving that for last.”
“Don’t save, Cindy,” she said, giving a wrinkle-free frown that screamed of Botox. “Show. Stat. Come on, Sloane. I need your opinion.”
Cindy nodded and led the way, leaving Parker with the pastries.
She opened the double doors with her breath caught in her chest, suddenly weak with how much she wanted to beat the competition.
Yes, this was stressful, but being featured by Aisle Files would fill up her venue faster, better, and more effectively than a year of brutally expensive advertising.
So this was cheaper and more efficient, but…
Two other venues?
She bit back a groan and tried to see the Starling Room through Dominique’s oh-so-critical eye.
It was glorious! No one could call it quaint. Nicole had sprayed some sweet perfume to mimic flowers and Jack had put soft music on the speakers.
The glass walls framed the mountains like art, making the light wood floor gleam. They’d set up the chairs, had the flower stands in place, and all the drapes were open.
Dominique didn’t even glance in the general direction of the spectacular view. Instead, she marched up the center aisle and stared at…oh, dear. The trellis.
Dominique’s heels clicked once, twice, then stopped. “Cindy.” She sounded like a disappointed parent. “I thought we talked about this.”
Ready for it, Cindy squared her shoulders. “It’s staying for my wedding. If others don’t—”
“I’m not featuring any others, Cindy,” she said sharply. “It’s the wedding we are here to cover—may be here to cover—that matters to me. This is an abomination and it will have to go.”
“But my fiancé—”
“Sloane? Thoughts?”
Yanked from her phone, the young woman blinked at the arch.
“It’s brutal,” she muttered. “Like being trapped in the Home Depot garden center.”
Whoa, rough. “It’s a family piece,” Cindy said, digging for calm and all the rationale she’d practiced. “When you marry at a place like Snowberry Lodge, the beauty is in the history. This trellis arch was built by my grand—”
“It goes or we go.” Dominique crossed her arms.
Cindy sucked in a soft breath.
“I’m sorry,” Dominique added. “I have standards and they must be met.”
“Well, we have standards, too.”
They all spun around at the sound of Jack’s voice. He stood in the doorway, in the white shirt and dark pants he wore under his sleigh ride costume, looking calm, cool, collected, and very handsome.
Here comes the cavalry, Cindy thought with a burst of affection.
But would his help cost them this opportunity? Her heart dropped to the floor at the thought of what a lose-lose situation she was in.
“And who are you?” Dominique asked with a surprising amount of interest.
“The groom,” he said simply, walking forward. “I’m Jack Kessler, Cindy’s fiancé.”
“And ex-husband,” Dominique said, proving that she had listened to “Candy” on that first phone call. “I can see why she’d want you back.”
Wait. Was she flirting with Jack?
Dominique came closer and extended her hand. “I’m Dom, Jack. I hope you’re going to use those nice muscles to move the eyesore.”
He shook her hand, held her gaze for a second or two, then put an arm around Cindy. “That eyesore has been in Cindy’s family for generations,” he said. “It’s symbolic of happy marriages and long-lasting unions.”
Dominique lifted an eyebrow. “It’s symbolic of hunting lodges and haunted forests.” She sniffed and turned to Parker. “What do you think?”
He looked through a camera lens, still chewing a pastry. When he swallowed, he shook his head. “The lines fight the geometry of the room. Move it outside, maybe behind the glass as a backdrop. See? Problem solved.”
Dominique took a deep breath and shuttered her eyes on the exhale. “Well, then, we’ll just—”
“I’ll move it,” Jack said.
Cindy whipped around. “Jack! You can’t—”
“Yes, he can,” Dominique said. “Parker, set up for some B-roll shots. Sloane, get me powdered. Cindy, I want to see you on camera. And, Jack, darling, why are you standing there? Carry that monster out of my sight.”
Cindy saw Jack breathe in hard enough to flare his nostrils, but he just flicked a brow in Dominique’s direction and walked past her.
While Sloane got Dominique powdered, Cindy hustled to Jack.
“Honey, what are you doing?” she asked, stepping up to join him on the platform.
He turned. “Cameron’s in the ski shed with Nicole. Can you get him over here?”
“Jack, the trellis…our good luck…you were so adamant.”
His features softened as he looked at her. “MJ told me there are two other venues in the running.”
“Yeah, I guess I thought it was a done deal, but…”
“You want this, Cindy.”
“But you want the trellis.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Not as much as I want you to be happy.”
She pressed her fingers to her lips. “Jack.”
“Really, it’s fine. We’ll do a champagne toast under it after the ceremony. It’s fine, Cin.”
She closed her eyes.
“You really want to fight her on this?” he asked.
“No, I really want to find the words to tell you how much I love you.”
He smiled. “I love you, too. Now, get Cameron.”
On a sigh, she turned, practically walking into Dominique, who arched one judgmental brow. “There’s a lot to be said for a man like that,” she muttered.
The comment surprised Cindy. “I know. He’s awesome.”
“He’s a sexy silver fox who will photograph well,” she said with a wink. “Big points for your cute little lodge.”
Cindy forced a smile and walked away.
Cindy stood at the back of the Starling Room, peering out the window to glimpse the black SUV fishtail a little in the slush before righting itself and gliding down the long, pine-flanked drive.
Silence fell over the lodge like fresh snow. Not quiet—there was the hum of the heating system, the soft clink of mugs in the kitchen, a distant whinny from Copper after a sleigh full of people climbed off and headed inside.
But mostly, she sank into the sound of…no one named Dominique Parrish. That woman was—
“Hey.” Jack’s hand brushed Cindy’s back. “I thought I’d find you here.”