Chapter Twenty Familiar Sharp Edges
Jane
Wedding mornings were organized chaos.
I was in the kitchen before the guests stirred, before the hallway filled with footsteps and voices, before the inevitable questions began.
Coffee was brewed stronger than usual to get me and the staff motivated.
Lists were taped to the counter where I could see them without searching.
The ovens hummed steadily, familiar and reliable with breakfast started.
Trays were stacked in careful order and the dining room had already been set up.
I liked mornings like this. There was comfort in knowing what needed to be done and doing it well. Food was something easy to manage. Timelines made sense when you followed them. I could trust my hands even when my thoughts wandered.
And they did wander.
The quiet of the early kitchen gave my mind room to drift back to the night before. The way Braxton had listened without interrupting and how he had waited to go at my pace. It was a lovely, steady feeling that something had shifted into place without either of us pushing it.
I didn’t let myself linger in my thoughts for long, as much as I wanted to. Wedding days were not for reflection. They were for execution.
I checked the prep list again, then turned as the back door opened and two unfamiliar faces stepped inside, stamping snow from their boots.
“Jane Bennet?” one of them said quickly, already shrugging out of her coat. “I’m Molly and this is Erin. We are the extra help Kitty hired.”
Relief loosened something in my chest.
“Thank you for coming early,” I said. “I will get you set up.”
They nodded eagerly, watching my hands as I pointed out stations, tasks, timelines. Molly took notes without being asked. Erin asked smart questions. They were competent, calm, and respectful of the space.
I realized how badly I needed that. Today was going to be busy and I didn’t need to babysit anyone. It was wonderful to have staff that was ready and willing to work at an experienced level.
As they got to work, I moved to the walk-in and checked the cake.
It was three tiers, flowers and ribbon winding upward on each tier, with a tiny bride and groom at the top holding hands.
I looked it over carefully. The frosting was still smooth, no cracks, and no shifting.
I let myself shut the door to the refrigerator, taking a relieved breath.
The dozens of sugarplums were also there, perfect and waiting for their moment to be served to guests.
We sent out breakfast service in record time due to the extra helping hands. This set me up for a good chance at getting the rest of the day ahead of schedule in the kitchen which made my already happy mood even happier.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway outside the kitchen. They were confident and deliberate, and if I were not mistaken, a set of heels. While this shouldn’t be uncommon for the wedding day, it was midmorning and I didn’t see why any of the wedding party would already be fully dressed.
“Jane.” Carly Hale said my name the way she always had, in a bright and polished tone that wasn’t exactly unfriendly. It was as though she were greeting someone she had already categorized.
I turned and found her standing just inside the doorway, coat still on, scarf arranged with effortless precision.
She looked exactly as she had the first time I met her.
Tall, thin with her red hair pulled back neatly, and not a strand out of place.
She did not look like someone who baked or rushed or worried.
She looked like someone who arrived and was intimidating.
“Carly,” I greeted her cautiously.
Carly was Braxton’s sister. She also knew Dex quite well as a family friend.
For a while, Lucy had been worried that Carly and Dex were a couple.
Carly had certainly wanted her to have a relationship with him.
Fortunately, Dex had cleared the air, told Carly that they would only ever be family friends, and made his feelings clear to Lucy.
Her eyes moved quickly through the kitchen, taking everything in. “It is still very… quaint.”
The word landed exactly where it always did. Not exactly an insult but certainly not praise.
She stepped farther in, heels clicking against the floor. “I wanted to see the kitchen before everything became chaotic. Braxton mentioned you were handling most of the food yourself, to which I was astounded.”
“Yes,” I said.
Her manicured brows lifted slightly. “That is impressive. Very… hands-on. I would have thought you would need assistance to run a big event like a wedding. People are so demanding and want perfection on their big day.”
I focused on straightening a tray that did not need straightening. My hands needed something to do.
“I could never eat something this rich,” she added lightly, glancing at the pastries I had cooling for the luncheon. “But it looks beautiful.”
I felt the familiar pinch behind my ribs when the popular girl looked down on the plump girl. The instinct to explain and to justify myself.
“It’s for the guests,” I said instead.
She laughed softly. “Of course. I skipped breakfast. I like to stay clear-headed on days like this.”
Lucy passed behind me with a stack of linens and paused just long enough to take in the scene.
“Carly,” Lucy said neutrally.
“Lucy,” Carly replied smoothly. “You look busy.”
“I am,” Lucy said, and kept moving.
I was grateful. Lucy didn’t back down from confrontations and I disliked them immensely.
Carly turned back to me. “Is James Elmen here yet? Braxton told me he was here and I just had to come meet him. I have all his cookbooks and my personal chef is a wonder for following his recipes."
“He arrived a few days ago,” I mentioned.
Her smile brightened. “Wonderful. I have all of his cookbooks. My chef practically memorized them when they came out.”
I wondered, briefly, whether the man she admired existed anywhere outside glossy photos and well-lit studios. Before I could respond, Braxton appeared in the doorway, coat half-buttoned, hair still slightly damp from the cold. His face softened when he saw me.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Morning,” I replied.
Carly turned toward him immediately.
“Braxton!” she exclaimed. She moved forward to kiss his cheek and received a kiss in return.
“I’m glad I caught you early so you can give me a tour of all the changes the Bennets have managed to achieve at the inn.
Plus, I do so want to see the set up for the wedding.
It must be very small and cozy, like a micro wedding. ”
I tried not to fume at the words. It was a perfectly respectable mid-sized wedding.
“I didn’t expect you this early,” he replied with a smile.
“Has the baker brought the cake yet? I would love to have a glance at it before the wedding. I’m not planning to stay since I wasn’t invited and crashing an event is tacky,” Carly sweetly remarked.
“Jane made the cake,” Braxton proudly stated. “It’s beautiful.”
Her gaze flicked between us.
Braxton stepped closer to me without seeming to notice he was doing it. “Jane has been an integral part of making this wedding happen.”
“That doesn't surprise me,” Carly said, studying us. “She seems very… steady.”
The word settled heavily.
Braxton smiled at me. “She’s more than that.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest before I could stop it. I hated how easily that warmth could be unsettled.
Carly said nothing, but I saw the shift. The way her attention sharpened. The way she took inventory of the space between us.
“I was hoping to meet James,” she said eventually.
“I can show you around,” Braxton offered. “He is probably at the inn somewhere.”
My shoulders tightened.
“That would be perfect,” Carly stated with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Braxton glanced at me. “Is that okay?”
“Of course,” I said. “I’m busy in the kitchen all day anyway.”
It became irrelevant as James suddenly entered the kitchen. He was wearing his chef jacket and his hair had been expertly styled. I squinted for a moment, wondering if he was wearing makeup.
“We can begin,” he broadly announced to the room at large, mostly for the benefit of the cameramen following him.
“Kitty did give you girls direct orders to follow only my directions, correct?” I softly asked Erin.
“Absolutely. She was very explicit about that,” Erin replied.
“Bless you, Kitty,” I murmured under my breath.
The cameramen followed James to the prep area where James was already grabbing flour and other ingredients that did not belong to him.
“What are you making?” one of the cameramen asked.
“Why, the cake of course. The bride and groom need the best,” James responded.
“I thought you said the cake was finished?” Carly raised an eyebrow as she looked at me.
“It is,” I said shortly.
Braxton touched my shoulder as though to comfort me before approaching James with a smile. “James, this is my sister, Carly.”
James straightened as Carly approached.
Her smile widened as she walked across the kitchen. “I have been looking forward to meeting you.”
James lit up. “Ah. A fan.”
Carly laughed. “I own all of your cookbooks. My chef swears by your techniques.”
James preened visibly. “Your chef has excellent taste.”
He launched into a monologue about vision, branding, audiences and image. About what people wanted.
He did not talk about food for at least ten minutes
I saw Carly notice. Just a flicker of confusion passed her face before she smoothed it over, nodding, encouraging him.
“Do you know Jane?” Carly said suddenly, gesturing toward me. “She is the one handling the food for the wedding.”
James turned toward me, smile already in place.
“She is very talented,” he said. “Trained under me.”
Carly’s eyebrows lifted. “Really?”
“Yes,” James continued. “She has real potential. I have been telling her she should come back to the city. Collaborate with me.”
Carly looked at me with interest. “Why wouldn’t you?”
The question felt reasonable. Public. Loaded.
“I have commitments here,” I said.
Carly tilted her head. “But surely this is temporary.”
Braxton shifted beside her. “Perhaps she doesn’t want to. Jane is essential here.”
Carly glanced at him, surprised.
“I mean,” she said smoothly, “of course she is. She just seems capable of more.”
James nodded. “Exactly. She has the potential to grow her talent under me and become a much better chef.”
The kitchen felt like it had shrunk and gotten louder at the same time. Not because anyone raised their voice, but because too many expectations had been placed on the same narrow space.
I turned back to my work. My hands knew what to do even if my chest felt hollow.
Behind me, the conversation continued. Carly laughed and James basked in her questions while Braxton went quiet.
I focused on the next task. The next step. The vegetables needed to be prepped, the chicken taken out of their marinating sauces and cooked. Erin asked a question about timing. Molly waited for instructions.
I gave them calmly and clearly.
From time to time, I felt Carly watching and measuring me.
And for the first time that morning, I felt like I was standing in the wrong place. Not because I didn’t belong, but because everyone else seemed very certain where they thought I should be.