Page 1 of Kiss the Bride

Chapter One

The heel of Evelyn Heart’s shoe snagged the carpet runner the moment she crossed the library’s threshold. She teetered precariously for a moment before regaining her balance.

Regrets played tag in her head. Why in the world had she agreed to manage the Captain’s Cottage while Jason and Tara were on their honeymoon? She’d never worked one-on-one with the brides who had their hearts set on getting married in her family’s ancestral home. She could have, should have, stayed right where she belonged—tucked away out of sight in her own office in jeans, a T-shirt, and a comfy pair of flats. If she had, her toes would be thanking her right about now.

Kind of forgetting something, wasn’t she? Like, it had been her idea to take over in her cousin’s absence?

Lately, working behind the scenes at the most popular wedding venue in Heart’s Landing, the town known far and wide as America’s Top Wedding Destination, had grown too confining. Evelyn sensed a change in the wind. Stepping into Jason’s shoes while he and Tara were away for a month offered the chance to unfurl her wings a bit, to prove she was capable of more than just keeping track of the books and inventory. So, yeah, she’d stepped up.

Too bad she’d nearly fallen on her face in the process.

She glanced at the couple who’d remained so entranced by the ornate carving on the mantelpiece that they hadn’t noticed her near pratfall. Thank goodness. As she’d done a hundred times in preparation for their meeting, she reviewed the pertinent facts. Devon Stanley the Third, partner in a New York law firm. Sherry Banter, his fiancée, the head of a charitable foundation. The two planned to exchange vows in an elaborate winter ceremony in a little over eighteen months. Their guest list topped 250, making it one of the larger events of the season.

Evelyn closed her eyes and took a second to envision the perfect wedding for the duo. Her heart warmed. She cleared her throat and stepped forward.

“The library will be at your disposal during the reception. Many of our couples opt to duck in here to enjoy a private moment or two before they’re introduced as Mr. and Mrs. for the first time.” She didn’t bother to mention how romantic the intimate space would look with candles flickering and champagne chilling by the fireplace. From the dreamy expression Sherry wore, the bride-to-be already had the picture firmly planted in her mind.

Sherry pressed a fluttering hand to her heart. “It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.” Her fiancé beamed down at her.

“The Captain’s Cottage is the premier wedding venue in Heart’s Landing,” Evelyn pointed out. It had been for more than fifty years—ever since her great-grandfather Heart had moved the family quarters to the third floor. Not long after, he’d begun hosting weddings for nearby Newport’s rich and famous in the two spacious ballrooms downstairs.

Evelyn’s heart rate settled into a steady rhythm as the image of Devon and Sherry’s picture-perfect wedding firmed. “Let’s go to the office and get the paperwork out of the way.”

“But darling.” Devon leaned down to his bride-to-be, whispering so softly Evelyn strained to hear his words. “We agreed we wouldn’t make a final decision today.”

Sherry’s expression dimmed. “You’re right.” She turned to Evelyn. “Dev and I feel we owe it to ourselves to consider all our options.”

Evelyn blinked. That wasn’t the way the conversation had played out in her mind. Devon and Sherry should’ve jumped at the chance to hold their wedding in the 126-year-old mansion overlooking the rest of Heart’s Landing. “I can’t hold the date for you,” she said. “Not without a deposit. I’d hate for you to be disappointed if some other couple reserves the space before you do.”

Which was a real possibility. From movie stars to secretaries, women across the country dreamed of saying their “I do’s” at the Captain’s Cottage. She’d checked the schedule this very morning. Turner and Stewart. Williams and Ortega. Suzuki and O’Hanrahan. Paired names filled the calendar for the foreseeable future. Others who hadn’t acted fast enough and had missed their chance crowded a long waiting list. She didn’t want to write Dev and Sherry’s names at the bottom.

Across from her, Sherry worried one perfectly manicured nail. She gazed up at her intended, tears pooling in her blue eyes. “Honey, I know we were going to wait, but I’ve dreamed of having my wedding here since I was a little girl.”

“Hmm.” The tall attorney scanned the room, no doubt weighing his choices. His gaze dropped to his fiancée. “Everything about this place meets all our criteria. Let’s do it!”

Sherry’s tears evaporated. She threw her arms around Dev’s shoulders. “Oh, honey! You’re the best. We’ll have such a beautiful wedding!”

Evelyn bowed her head. The perfect wedding for every bride. It was more than just a saying in Heart’s Landing. It was the rule everyone in town lived by. By choosing the Captain’s Cottage as their venue, Dev and Sherry had made the best possible choice.

“Alicia Thorn coordinates all our events. She’ll be in touch with you next week,” Evelyn said as she bid the young couple goodbye an hour later. Watching them go, she hid a niggle of concern behind a warm smile. People rarely made the four-hour drive from New York, spent hours touring the grounds, measured the ballrooms, and oohed and aahed over the Cottage’s luxurious honeymoon suites, without locking in their date. Yet Devon and Sherry had nearly done exactly that. They weren’t alone, either. Just last week, a different couple had driven off without making a decision.

Was it something she’d said? Some change she’d made?

She fought an urge to run her fingers through her hair. Not that she could. As she had every morning for the past two weeks, she’d wrestled her unruly curls into a sleek chignon. She’d pulled the requisite slim-fitting business suit from her closet, slipped her feet into the toe-pinching high heels. She shook her head. No. She’d dressed the part, stuck to the script, listened attentively, and assured every couple they’d have the wedding of their dreams at the Captain’s Cottage. So why the hesitation?

Still pondering the question, she headed to the dining room for a pick-me-up. Coffee, for sure. Lunch would be nice, too. Peering into the cheery room, where tiny flowers adorned the wallpaper above dark wainscoting, she paused. At a table in the far corner, six young women sported sleek updos and fresh manicures as they chirped and cooed around a beaming bride-to-be. The Martin party. Tonight, they’d dance the night away in the Green Room. Across from them sat the parents of a couple who’d sashayed down the aisle last night to the tunes of a country-western singer.

“Duty calls,” she murmured. As hostess of the Captain’s Cottage, she’d stop by both tables and say hello. She breathed in the tantalizing scent of the stuffed rolls prepared by the kitchen staff every Saturday. Ignoring an empty gurgle from her stomach, she slowly started making the rounds.

She complimented the group who’d wiled away the morning at Perfectly Flawless Day Spa and cheerfully jotted down the bride’s request for a last-minute seating change. At the parents’ table, she accepted several compliments for how smoothly things had gone the night before and promised to pass the praise along to the staff at their weekly meeting. As she moved away, the foursome resumed their conversation. Evelyn smiled. The two couples came from opposite ends of the country and moved in different social strata, yet they were already strengthening the bonds they’d share throughout the lives of their children and, if they were blessed, their grandchildren.

Jenny Bell, Alicia Thorn’s assistant, sat alone at another table, her attention ping-ponging between the screen of her laptop and a check-off list. Not wishing to interrupt the petite brunette, Evelyn stepped toward the plates stacked at one end of the sideboard. Instead of fixing herself a snack, though, she stepped aside when new arrivals wandered into the room. Gmal Kahn and Josie Blackwater had driven up from Charleston to finalize plans for a ceremony that combined his Egyptian roots with her Native American heritage. After greeting the pair, Evelyn chose to forgo lunch and settle for coffee, leaving Josie to study the lobster rolls while Gmal eyed oven-roasted turkey on buttery croissants, platters of cookies, and stacks of brownies. She was doctoring a cup with cream and sugar when Jenny joined her.

“Hey,” the young woman whispered.

“Hey, yourself. You looked busy. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You wouldn’t have. I was going over the list for the Johnson wedding.”

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