Her Rebound Guy. Jennifer Lohmann

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СКАЧАТЬ the only nod he’d make to participating in planning the event that would cement his life to another’s.

      Maybe he had a stressful job, she thought. Or perhaps he was worried about a friend of his. Or had something else on his mind, other than the wedding. There, Beck thought, satisfied that she’d turned her irritation with his silence around. The prospective groom was here to support the love of his life, but they both knew he had a lot on his mind because...work. Work was a nicer reason than a sick friend he might be worried about.

      Beck smiled charitably at the man before turning back to the woman, who was standing with her hands on her hips, looking thoughtfully at the walls.

      “I don’t suppose you could paint the walls...” Jennifer said, trailing off.

      “No. It is important to us that we make our brides happy and that their wedding day is special, but we can’t repaint the walls.”

      “Well, rats,” the woman said. Beck tried not to laugh. The woman was high-maintenance and, despite all her talk about special, unique and different, had no idea what she wanted her wedding to look like. But she had said “rats” with such honest disappointment that Beck couldn’t help but try to like the woman.

      “Buono Come Il Pane has a specific look and a specific feel. Might I ask why, if we’re not what you wanted, did you make an appointment? And why are you still considering us? We’d love to be the right place for you, of course,” Beck hastened to add, “but we know we’re not the right place for every bride and it’s important that you’re comfortable with the location you choose.”

      “This is my dad’s favorite restaurant,” the future groom chimed in from his spot against the wall. “If we pick here, he’ll chip in half of the wedding costs and her parents will give us the difference for a honeymoon.”

      “Our house down payment,” the bride said. “That’s a better long-term decision.”

      See, Beck’s inner nice chided. It’s good that you decided to like the woman. She’s like all the other brides, trying to plan her future in the best way she knows how.

       Even if she wants you to repaint and will probably want different linens. And different silverware. And won’t like the wine options. Or the food.

      But she was a woman who was trying to figure out what she wanted and was determined to make it happen. That was worth a nod of respect, if nothing else.

      “Money is important to consider when deciding on wedding venues. It’s easy to spend more money than you’d planned on and then be strapped later. I can’t tell you what to do, but we offer a basic set of options for brides, things that we think best show off our restaurant and the beauty of the occasion. If those aren’t what would make your wedding day the party you’ve always wanted, then perhaps we’re not the best place for you.”

      It was easy enough for Beck to turn down one bride. Buono Come Il Pane was booked for June over a year in advance and the rest of the year’s availability was usually gone eight months in advance. When she was done with this appointment, she had a bridal event to plan for and she usually came out of those events with a couple more bookings.

      Plus, a happy bride was the best possible advertising. An unhappy bride was the worst. If the woman was going to be unhappy with her wedding at Buono Come Il Pane, it was worth the money to pay her to go away.

      “We might be willing to accept this restaurant’s style,” Tanner said, interested in the conversation now that money was on the line. “Right, honey? It could be worth our time.”

      Jennifer smiled indulgently at him. “We want to honeymoon in Belize, and we have our eye on those private suites on stilts out in the water. Right now, it’s a wee bit out of our price range. Though, a down payment for a house would still be a better investment.”

      “Well,” Beck said with a clap of her hands and quick glance at her watch. “You both have a lot of thinking to do before you decide on anything. Personal opinion, spend a lot of time—separately—thinking about what you each want. Then come together and make sure you overlap on the big stuff. That you’re not giving up anything that’s important to you. That’s really life advice—” the kind Beck wished she had taken “—and a wedding is a good place to start. It is the beginning of your life together.”

      “Huh,” the groom said as he turned to stare back at the walls and art, clearly no longer interested in the conversation.

      But his bride evaluated Beck more closely before asking, “Are you married?”

      For most of her career, she’d loved to answer “Yes” and tell the bride that she’d had the most beautiful wedding under the sun. To say that they were blissfully happy. That she wasn’t always a bridal and events planner, but a bride. That she had been the magical bride, happy enough to walk on water, and had known what it was to come home to a loved one, share a glass of wine and chat about your day.

      But those days were over. “I’m not,” she said, not willing to go into any details with a customer and a stranger.

      “Divorced?”

      “Well, yes. So I know of what I speak when I say you need to think about what’s important to you and make sure your fiancé feels the same.” She and Neil had always felt perfect for each other, until they weren’t.

      The bride leaned in close to Beck, like they were teen girls sharing a confidence. “Tanner and I met through online dating. It’s possible, you know. The trick is to make sure you pick the right dating site. Some are for people looking for easy...” She paused, words rolling through her eyes before she settled on, “Companionship. The good sites attract men looking for marriage and commitment. Pick one of those.”

      “Thank you,” Beck said surprised. The woman wasn’t giving her new advice, and she was a stranger, but she meant her advice honestly. Sincere, much like Beck had been when telling this couple to think about what they want before settling on a wedding venue.

      “I’m looking,” she said, hesitant to confide too much to a stranger and prospective—though unlikely—customer. “I’ll admit it’s hard.”

      Though, there was that message waiting for her when she’d come home from the walk yesterday.

      She’d thought about that message all through making her dinner of roasted beets, blue cheese and pita bread—all things her ex-husband hadn’t liked. Eating her dinner, she’d still been thinking about that message. At that point, the amount of time she had been putting into thinking about the message had seemed excessive. And a little scary.

      So much portent put into a little message by someone she didn’t know and might not even like. So much power in that little notification at the top of her cell phone.

      She understood now why people said that you couldn’t take online dating personally. She hadn’t even been twenty-four hours in and already that message felt like life or death.

      So, she’d made a deal with herself. No checking the message until she hadn’t given it a thought for at least five hours. By her count, when the bride had mentioned online dating, it had been four hours and fifty-seven minutes, not counting the hours she’d spent sleeping.

      Close enough.

      Jennifer patted her on the back. “You’ll get there. СКАЧАТЬ