Chapter 5
Chapter Five
The next morning, Max came downstairs with more pep in his step. He hummed a song he couldn’t get out of his head, one that he also couldn’t quite place. As he entered the kitchen, he once again found his daughter already there.
She greeted him with a knowing smile. “You’re in a good mood.”
“Can’t a man be happy in the morning?”
“Most men, yes, but you usually don’t even crack a smile until you’ve had at least three cups of coffee.”
He harrumphed as he set a coffee cup in the Keurig and pressed the button to brew. While he waited, he grabbed sugar and cream. The whole time, he could feel Lanie’s eyes boring a hole in his back.
“So, you and Carissa seemed to be getting along last night. At least, better than usual.” Lanie’s voice sounded conversational, but Max heard the barely suppressed curiosity.
“I promised you I would be on my best behavior,” he mumbled. After his coffee was ready, he searched the cabinets for something to eat. But really, he was stalling.
His daughter snorted. “You’ve promised that before and not delivered. What was different last night?”
When he could no longer avoid it, he sighed and took his coffee and a bagel to the table. After setting a container of cream cheese out, he sank into his chair and prepared for the Spanish Inquisition.
“I know how important the wedding is to you and how instrumental she has been in helping you to plan it.” He slathered cream cheese onto his bagel and took a bite. “So I’m making an effort.”
“That’s uncharacteristically selfless of you.” Lanie peered at him over her cup of coffee.
“Ouch,” he muttered into his mug. When Lanie gave an unapologetic shrug, he grimaced, unable to articulate why he’d had a change of heart toward Carissa. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that he’d briefly thought she was flirting with him. First, that wasn’t possible. Carissa had made her dislike of him perfectly clear over the few months they’d known each other. And second, when she returned to the table, she’d acted as if nothing had happened. Clearly, he’d imagined the way her knee grazed his or the way her eyes sparkled when she teased him.
“No offense, Dad, but you’ve never exactly been one to care what other people think of you.” Lanie shook her head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if you were interested in her.”
Max choked on his bagel, and he quickly downed the rest of his coffee, ignoring the way it scalded his tongue. Interested in Carissa? Ludicrous.
“Hardly,” he scoffed.
“You sure?” Her lips quirked into a smile. “You hesitated. Almost like you were debating how to respond.”
He scowled. “I figured it would be easier to be nice to her, for your sake.” After finishing his bagel, he smacked his hands together to remove the crumbs. “But if you’d rather I continue to fight with her at every meeting, that’s fine with me.”
Lanie rolled her eyes. She stood and carried her coffee mug to the sink. After rinsing it out, she leaned against the counter and studied him.
“Just… promise me that if you do have any interest in her, you won’t pursue it until after the wedding. The last thing I need is her to quit in the middle of planning the event after you break her heart.”
“That’s the easiest promise I’ll ever make,” he said, forcing a laugh. But an ice-cold weight settled in his chest, and he struggled to swallow. He cleared his throat before continuing. “You have nothing to worry about. There is not and never will be anything going on between Carissa and me.”
“Good. I appreciate that.” Lanie’s shoulders relaxed. “I’ve got enough to worry about as it is.” She pushed off from the counter. “Though you should consider dating again. I hate the idea of you being alone in this big house by yourself after I’m married.
Lifting a finger, he wagged it at her. “Why don’t you focus more on your own relationship and stay out of my love life?” Or lack thereof.
Lanie raised her hands in surrender. “I’m just saying it’s something to think about.” She left the room, calling over her shoulder, “After all, you’re not getting any younger.”
Once Lanie had left for work, Max headed into the garage. The more he thought about Lanie’s suggestion to resume work on the unfinished furniture, the more he wanted to try his hand at woodworking again.
But first, he needed to update his tools. Some of them needed sharpening, but most needed to be replaced. Once he made a list, he headed to the store.
After visiting the hardware store and a few other places in town, he had most of what he needed. The rest, he hoped to find online. But instead of going home, he stopped in at Bea’s Diner. He hadn’t been in a while, and he had a hankering for her chicken-fried steak.
“Max McAllister, as I live and breathe,” Bea called out the moment Max entered the diner. Her white hair was covered in a black hairnet, and she wiped her hands on her apron as she approached. “I haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays.”
“Afternoon, Bea. Been busy with the kids and their weddings.” Max gave Bea an awkward hug. “Good to see you.”
“Grab a place wherever,” she said. “Coffee?”
“Please.” Max surveyed the diner. It was a bit early for lunch, and the rush hadn’t started yet. Just as he was about to slide into a chair at the breakfast bar, he caught sight of a familiar head of silver hair.
“Hello, Max,” Carissa said. “Would you like to join me?”
His first instinct was to decline. After his promise to Lanie, it seemed prudent to avoid Carissa unless it was for something wedding-related. But she had that monstrosity of a binder on the table before her, which meant she was working. Surely, they could get through one lunch without bickering. Besides, he hated to eat alone in public.
“You don’t mind?”
Her lips curled in a sardonic smile. “I wouldn’t invite you to join me if I minded.”
Fair enough. Max walked to her table and slid in across from her. The binder was opened to Lanie’s wedding, and he could just make out some calculations on the corner of the page Carissa was studying.
“I’m glad I ran into you,” Carissa said, covering the page with her napkin. “I’ve been struggling with something, and I could use some advice.”
He leaned back, crossing his arms. “I would have thought I was the last person you would ask for advice.”
“It does concern your daughter, and as you keep reminding me, I shouldn’t assume I know her better than you.”
Her words surprised him, but he worked to keep his expression neutral. “All right. What’s going on?”
“Let’s order first.” Carissa grabbed two menus from the stand on the table and handed him one. “You strike me as a black-coffee kind of guy.”
“I like a little cream and sugar,” he said. “But none of that pump of this, sprinkle of that, extra whip stuff they serve at Starbucks. I prefer coffee that tastes like coffee.”
Her smile faltered, and he realized a moment too late he’d put his foot in his mouth. Again. “N-not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s just not for me.”
“I like a sugar rush with my caffeine,” she said in an attempt at a joke. It fell flat.
He shifted uncomfortably and was relieved when the server came and took their order. Once they were alone again, he leaned forward and gestured for her to begin.
“So, I spoke to the band this morning, as I’d promised Lanie,” she began.
“And?” he asked. “Is there a problem?”
“They’re asking for a lot more money than I was anticipating. It’s going to blow up the budget Lanie and Nate set.”
That didn’t surprise him. He still thought a DJ would be the better option, but Lanie had her heart set on a band, that particular band. She would be devastated to learn she couldn’t afford it.
He studied Carissa across the table. “Why are you telling me this? As you love to remind me, I’m not your client.”
To his satisfaction, her face flushed scarlet. “That’s fair, and to be honest, I probably shouldn’t be talking to you about this.” She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, which he’d learned was a nervous habit. “But I hate disappointing my clients. I also prefer to offer them options for solutions to problems rather than simply presenting the problems themselves.” Her blue eyes bored into his, and the intensity caught him off guard. “You know Lanie better than I do. Would she be content with a DJ instead or even a less-expensive band? Or is this a priority for her? If it’s the latter, I can investigate making cuts elsewhere in the budget.”
He sighed. “She has her heart set on this band. Beyond the fact she likes their music, they have sentimental value for Lanie and Nate.”
With a nod, Carissa moved her napkin and flipped through the binder again. “We could potentially reduce the catering budget by removing one of the entrée options. We’ve already reduced the cost of the cake because of the cookies you plan to make.” She tapped her pen against her lips. “But I’m still not sure it’ll be enough.”
“What about the photographer?” Max asked. “Could we reduce the number of hours they have to cover? For instance, Lanie’s cousin had a photographer for the ceremony and the first hour or so of the reception. They were able to get the formal photos done and several candid photos before the photographer left.”
“It’s an idea,” Carissa said, though she didn’t sound convinced. “But we’ve already signed a contract with them, and I’m not sure we can alter it at this point.”
An idea formed in his head, but he pushed it away. After the many fights he and Lanie had had, the last thing he wanted to do was go behind her back and offer to pay for the band. If she found out, she’d be furious, and it would only cause more damage to their already tenuous relationship.
That’s assuming she finds out. Max gazed at Carissa, assessing her. Could he trust her to keep a secret from Lanie?
“What would you say to me covering the difference for the band?” When she opened her mouth as if to respond, he hurried on. “That way, I’m not paying for it outright, just the portion that falls outside of their budget.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, and he found the action more distracting than he wanted to admit. Shaking his head slightly, he forced himself to focus.
“We should talk to Lanie about it?—”
“She’ll say no.” He sighed. “She’s been refusing my assistance from day one.”
“Then what are you saying?” Carissa raised an eyebrow. “That we don’t tell her you’re footing the difference?”
He lifted his shoulders in what he hoped came off as a nonchalant shrug. “What is that saying? ‘What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her’?”
“And if she finds out?”
“We’ll blow up that bridge when we get there.”
Carissa’s lips twitched. “I believe the saying is ‘cross that bridge.’”
“Sentiment’s the same,” Max grumbled, waving his hand.
“I’m uncomfortable lying to a client.”
“It’s not exactly lying. It’s…” Max searched for the right word. “Fudging the numbers a bit. I’d be paying what? A few hundred dollars? That’s a drop in the bucket of the overall cost for this wedding.” He hoped he sounded more confident about the plan than he felt.
At first, Carissa didn’t respond. She seemed to be performing calculations in her head and weighing the pros and cons of his suggestion. Part of him hoped she would refuse. After all, Lanie had made it clear she and Nate wanted to pay for the wedding themselves. And she might be willing to sacrifice in a different area to afford the band.
On the other hand, Max didn’t want her to have to sacrifice at all. She’d been through hell, first in caring for her mother during her illness then in learning the truth about what had actually caused her initial breakup with Nate. If anyone deserved to have the wedding they wanted, it was Lanie.
“Look,” Max said, breaking the silence. “If Lanie finds out, I’ll take the blame. She can add it to the list of things I’ve done wrong.” The last sentence came out more bitterly than he’d intended.
Carissa met his gaze, and curiosity danced in her eyes. But she didn’t press. “All right. I’ll iron out the details with the band and send you the invoice.”
“And you won’t tell Lanie?” Max asked.
“I promise, this will stay between you and me.”
“Thank you.”
Their food arrived, and Max was grateful for the distraction. He hoped the meal would smother the nagging feeling in his gut that he shouldn’t be making decisions about the wedding behind Lanie’s back, regardless of how well-intentioned they were.
“I’m surprised you didn’t tell Lanie about your preference for a DJ,” Carissa said a few moments later, breaking the silence.
He shrugged. “I didn’t want to dampen her mood, and the band isn’t half bad.”
Her lips curved into a smile. “I’m surprised you’re capable of such restraint.”
“Shows how much you know about me,” he retorted. After he finished his meal, he paid the bill. “I should get going.”
“Hot date?” Despite a teasing lilt to her tone, her blue eyes burned with an emotion he couldn’t quite place.
He snorted. “I don’t date.”
“Ever?” She cocked her head.
“Not recently, anyway,” he admitted. “I tried after the divorce, but it didn’t take.”
Her expression softened. “I understand that more than you know.”
That’s right. She lost her husband. “Have you dated anyone since your husband…?”
She shook her head. “For a long time, I wasn’t ready, and then business picked up.” Clearing her throat, she forced a smile. “And now, I’m looking to expand.”
“How do you expand a wedding-planning business?” he asked, genuinely curious. “Or do you mean you’re expanding to neighboring counties?”
“No. Actually, I’m trying to branch out into corporate retreats.” She sighed. “But it’s not as easy as I had hoped. Somehow, knowing the perfect color coordination for a specific theme doesn’t translate well to team-building activities and seminars. It’s been a struggle to even convince a company to give me a chance. That said, I do have a meeting tomorrow with a corporation in DC.”
“That’s gotta mean something, right?” He leaned forward, folding his arms on the table.
“Yes and no. The client was an acquaintance of my late husband. So he’s doing me a favor.”
“Maybe he’ll pass on your information to other business owners.”
“That’s the goal.”
The server arrived. “Did y’all want anything else?”
Carissa looked at Max. “Do you need to go? I don’t want to keep you.”
They’d finished eating, and there wasn’t anything else to discuss about Lanie’s wedding. Yet while he had no reason to stay, he also wasn’t quite ready to leave.
“I’d love another cup of coffee.”
Carissa smiled. “Me too.” After the server left, she placed her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand. “What about you? Now that you’re retired, do you do any work on the side?”
“Not really.” Worried his response would cause the conversation to die, he hurried on. “But as you saw the other day, I’m getting back into woodworking.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, right. The furniture in your garage. The designs you’ve carved are beautiful. I’d love to see the finished product.”
“Then you’ll have to come by when I’m done.”
She smiled shyly. “I’d like that.”
To his immense surprise, he realized he liked that idea too.