The Mills & Boon Christmas Wishes Collection. Maisey Yates

bride walked over exclaiming about the canapés. “Is this the same chef you’ll use if we book Cedarwood as a venue? Please say yes!”

      Amory answered: “Yes, Cruz can be requested, definitely.”

      I held my breath. She hadn’t asked him, and surely this bride would insist on knowing it was in fact Cruz in the kitchen on her wedding day.

      Just then, Cruz walked in carrying a plate of sweet canapés. “Let me introduce you?” Amory gave her a saccharine smile. “Cruz, this is Ebony, she’s enquired whether you’ll be the chef if she hires Cedarwood for her nuptials.”

      Without missing a beat, Cruz nodded. “That can easily be arranged.”

      They were totally on the same wavelength, and interpreted what the right answer would be. My heart just about exploded that they’d say yes, knowing it would help sway her decision. We’d worry about the practicalities of it later. Worry later, Clio! Smile and schmooze and do your job!

      “Great,” she said, beaming. “Let’s talk dates.”

      Amory said, “Follow me, Ebony. Can I get you a glass of champagne while we chat?”

      Two potential bookings! I wanted to jump for joy until I remembered the damn approval certification. I needed Kai and I needed him here fast.

      At the florist’s table, a trio of women stood chatting away, exclaiming over prices. I’d told the vendors to be vague about pricing, because we’d try to do the weddings as a package deal, but if they pushed for it, then to do their best to wow the brides with the quality of their products. The raven-haired beauty said, “I’m not sure it’s worth all that! What are they, exotic blooms shipped from Amsterdam?” Her friends tittered behind their hands. I frowned and hoped the florist wasn’t offended. His flowers were first-rate and worth every penny.

      A twenty-something girl dithered alone, clutching her champagne glass so tight I thought she might break it. “Hello, Felicity,” I said, reading her name badge. “Can I introduce you to my aunt who makes the most delicious donuts you’ll ever taste?”

      Felicity shot me a grateful smile and nodded. “Thank you, I’m a little out of my comfort zone here. Makes me wonder how I’ll have the courage to walk down the aisle. Right now, eloping seems like a better idea.” The apples of her cheeks were pink with nerves.

      I took her by the elbow, and led her to Aunt Bessie. “Eloping is cute,” I said. “But what about your family? Wouldn’t they miss seeing you marry the love of your life?” I understood her nerves. Many brides felt the same way, until they’d done it. Then they wanted to do it over and over again. Once they started the slow walk down the aisle, time stopped, and all they could see was the person waiting at the other end for them, the one who loved them above all else, and was about to promise to love them for eternity.

      “Yeah,” Felicity admitted. “My mom would never forgive me. But she’s one of those social types, and I’m more of an introvert.”

      “The good thing about location weddings,” I said, “is that they can be intimate. You’ve always got that excuse to keep your party to a minimum. Keep it small, with only the people you feel totally comfortable around.”

      Her eyes brightened. “I guess you’re right. Does that mean I can leave his mom off the invite list?”

      I giggled. “Monster-in-law?”

      “Times ten. She’s a nightmare! I think that’s half the problem, that I’ll be worrying about what she’s thinking about my dress, my hair, the way I’m walking. She intimidates me.”

      I clucked my tongue. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard similar worries. Brides worried about so many variables, but it was my job to take that worry away, and make sure that in the lead-up – and, more importantly, on the day – they enjoyed themselves, and felt like princesses. Otherwise what was the point?

      “If you have your wedding at Cedarwood Lodge, we’ll do the worrying for you. We have expert hair and makeup teams, ones who usually do celebrities who can fly in from New York for the day. Your bridesmaids will walk ahead of you, and you’ll have your father, right? He won’t let you topple down the aisle. Trust me when I say, none of that will be in your mind when the music starts, and you see your fiancé waiting for you.”

      She squeezed my hand. “Thank you. Clio. I suppose I have to remember it’s not a punishment. It’s meant to be one of the best days of my life.”

      “It will be. You’ll see.”

      “Hello there, pretty girl!” Aunt Bessie said. “Would you like to try some donuts?” Before waiting for an answer she pointed to a tray. “These are my Rudolf reindeers, filled with butterscotch custard and ganache. The antlers are made from dark chocolate, and the red noses are candy-cane flavored. Aren’t they the cutest things?”

      Felicity took the proffered donut, and said, “Almost too cute to eat!”

      Just then a voice bellowed, “Not on your life would I pay five thousand dollars for a photography package! Are you trying to rob us blind?” The same trio again! I donned a serene expression and hotfooted it to the photography stand where the poor photographer stood aghast.

      “What’s the problem?” I asked, sweetly.

      The girl turned to me, flipping her long mane of dark hair. “Your photographer is charging an exorbitant amount for a basic package, and it makes me wonder if the price is inflated for everything just because we’re using the W word!”

      This kind of person was party suicide, so I motioned for Micah to bring champagne. Better to kill her with kindness even though she was out of line. “Tory is one of the most sought-after photographers in New York, and we’re very lucky he even agreed to visit us today.”

      “Yeah,” she said. “I guess he’s tacking his holiday bill onto our wedding packages.”

      Tory glared at her and said, “The package I quoted was including drone footage by the lake, and a variety of additions – definitely not the basic wedding package.”

      She blushed but rallied, “Still, it’s a lot of money for a wedding in a hokey place.”

      “Right,” I said, pretending to consider it. “Who just booked you for their wedding next year, Tory? Was it Hadley?”

      “It was. But she obviously went for all the bells and whistles for her big day.”

      “Of course, you can’t put a price on memories like those.”

      “They last a lifetime,” he grinned.

      “Hadley booked you?” Her voice was incredulous. “As in the singer?”

      “I can’t divulge the personal details of my clients.” He pursed his lips.

      She squirmed but tried to adopt a haughty expression. “Can I see those packages again? Like you said, you can’t put a price on memories.”

      I left them to it, smothering a smile, fairly sure Hadley was the receptionist in the office next door to Tory’s studio…

      A few hours into the expo, the girls were pink-cheeked and grinning from excitement and perhaps a few extra glasses of champagne. Somehow the quiet, shy Felicity had convinced Amory to try on one of the couture wedding gowns so they could see it objectively. Always up for a challenge when it came to business, Amory had happily obliged, and I wondered what she secretly thought about wearing such a gown. For someone adamant they were never walking down the aisle, would it make her think twice, wearing something so fabulous, so utterly made just for one day… When she swanned out in it her expression was unreadable but her color high, and she made the most magnificent bride. Just then Cruz walked in, and his face said it all. For a split second, he brightened, his mouth parting in surprise, as if he’d never seen anyone so lovely. When Amory noticed him, she blushed, fumbling with the dress. Something had passed between them, a fleeting glimpse of what might be?

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