Page 74 of Wedding Bells in Silverwood

She rested her head against the door. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Viola circled the kitchen once more. She’d already triple-checked that every station was prepared and nothing was missing. Her crew was all present and accounted for, each in their proper attire, cutting and slicing the garnish for the meals Viola had spent hours cooking. The dishes sat warm in their insolated containers, and the appetizers were ready for the reception.

Though she had a timeline planned out, it had to be adjusted. Christelle, who was helping in the kitchen, had found out that the ceremony hadn’t begun yet and told Viola. Apparently, a few things were causing delays. She pushed down her anxiety and told herself everything would be fine.

Viola blew out a controlled breath as she stepped through the double doors into the dining room. Oliver was busy with the final touches, ensuring every piece of silverware was lined up and the napkins were all folded properly.

“Looks great, Oliver.” Viola walked over to him and smoothed out the tablecloth.

“Good thing I have years of experience setting formal tableware.”

“Holly and Nick are going to love it.”

Oliver raised his brows. “I’d like to think they’ll be too preoccupied gazing into each other’s eyes to even notice the fancy dishes.”

“As much as I’m a fan of love,” Viola began, “I do hope my culinary skills are impressive enough for them to notice so I can get more of these gigs.”

“Oh, I’m positive they will.” Oliver stuck a hand in his pocket. “Speaking of love.”

Viola narrowed her eyes, wondering what he was up to. Oliver opened a little black box to reveal a slim silver ring with a teardrop-shaped diamond. Viola gasped.

“I’m going to ask Amy to marry me.” Oliver’s smile was so big it nearly split his face.

Viola did a little jump, her hands flying to her cheeks. She was barely aware of a door swinging open somewhere as she rose on her tiptoes to embrace her friend.

“That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you.” Oliver patted her on the back before releasing her. “But she hasn’t said yes yet.”

“I have a feeling she will.”

His cheeks reddened. “You don’t think it’s too cliché? Getting engaged on New Year’s Eve?”

“Not at all. And hey, if you need a caterer for your wedding …”

Oliver laughed and tucked the ring box back in his pocket. “You’re at the top of my list.”

Viola glanced around. The door to the dining room swung slightly as if someone had entered, but she didn’t see anyone. Had a guest or wedding party member opened the door and then decided not to come in? When the timer on Viola’s watch beeped, she dismissed the thought and smiled at her friend.

“I’m going to see where we stand, timewise. We were supposed to be serving the appetizers by now.”

Viola straightened her chef’s jacket and hiked through the chateau toward the winter garden. Delays in ceremonies were common, but in order to get the timing right for serving the food, she needed to check what was happening with the bride and groom.

When she reached the winter garden, Viola became mesmerized. The afternoon sun could be seen through the wedding arch and the glass doors beyond it. The elegant white chairs were lined up in perfect rows. At equidistant intervals stood large ivory stone vases filled with pink roses, lilacs, freesia, and sprigs of baby’s breath.

The guests were seated, waiting for the ceremony to begin. She wasn’t certain whom to ask for an update but figured the wedding would still be taking place since the invitees were still there. As Viola was about to head back to the kitchen, she spotted Jonas standing at the back of the room. His dark gray suit was tailored perfectly to fit his form. He was clean-shaven, and not a hair on his head was out of place. Their eyes locked for a moment, and the green of his sparkled. Viola smiled at him, but he averted his gaze.

Someone’s in a bad mood today.

Viola reminded herself how serious Jonas was about work. He wasn’t a guest at the wedding; this was all business for him.

She put on a pleasant expression and approached him. “You look nice,” she whispered.

His smile appeared forced. Viola chalked it up to him focusing on being professional and not allowing himself to loosen up.

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