Page 6 of Wedding Season
“Seeing him makes me reconsider all the reasons I chose Magnolia for my new start. I don’t want the past to poison my current life.”
“We won’t let that happen,” Emma promised. She reached across the counter to squeeze Mariella’s fingers.
“That’s right.” Angi nodded. “We’ve got your back. You are part of this town now. Don’t let anybody chase you away.”
“Maybe I need to be a silent partner for this wedding season?” Mariella could see the disappointment in both of her friends’ faces, but she wouldn’t back down on this point. “The Wildflower is getting more and more press, and I don’t want to taint the narrative. My reputation is going to drag you down.”
“That’s not true,” Emma insisted. “I can name at least three brides who partially chose the inn as a destination because it meant they’d get to work with you on their wedding dresses. You have a gift, Mariella. Both for designing fashion and for creating perfect days.”
Mariella chuckled at that. “Nothing about me is perfect.”
Angi picked up her phone from the counter, hit a few buttons and then pushed the device in front of Mariella’s face. “You’re wrong. This is the photo from last week’s wedding.”
Mariella smiled. “She looks happy.”
“And confident and beautiful,” Emma added. “I think some of that confidence comes from the fact that she feels beautiful in the dress you designed for her.”
Mariella’s return to design had started with the first wedding they’d hosted and Holly Adams, the bride. She was a Magnolia native who married into a political family akin to the Kennedys in their power and reputation. She’d been so nervous and worried about presenting the right image.
Mariella hadn’t planned to have anything to do with bridal fashion when she was fired from her own company. Walking away from what she’d built had left a hole in her soul and barely a shred of creativity, not to mention dignity. But she hadn’t been able to resist helping sweet and guileless Holly. Because that wedding had gotten national attention, Mariella had also received notice. She’d ignored the reporters who’d reached out for interviews asking if she was trying to make a comeback in the fashion world.
In the age of online oversharing, there was no rock she could truly hide under. A number of the direct messages she’d received had been from prospective brides who told her how much it meant to them that she cared about making an ordinary woman feel beautiful on her wedding day.
Several of the missives had touched her deeply. The desire to make women feel their best as they started a new chapter in their lives had been one of the things that had driven her in her career.
She’d selectively agreed to work with a few brides, but that didn’t mean she wanted the same kind of big career she’d had before.
“I love working with the Wildflower brides to create their perfect gowns.” She took the phone from Angi’s hand and placed it screen side down on the counter. “But I can’t handle more publicity or press right now. I want to live a quiet life. It’s all I can manage at the moment.”
She hated admitting that but would not lie to her friends. She’d told more lies and half-truths during her downward spiral than she cared to admit. Too many people had been hurt, and she wouldn’t take the chance of doing that again.
She winced as Emma and Angi shared a concerned look. “Is it your sobriety?” Emma asked after a moment. “If you’re worried about losing control—”
“I’m not going to drink again,” Mariella promised. It was a promise she made every day. A vow she’d taken at the rehab center where she’d landed after her life imploded. “Or do anything else. I just don’t like what Alex makes me feel.”
Another shared look between her friends.
“What?” She held up her hands. “You two understand that I see you making faces, right?”
“You and Alex,” Emma murmured. “What’s the deal there?”
“Nothing is going on with Alex. We’ve had nothing to do with each other since the moment I ruined his wedding day.” She pointed a finger at each of her friends. “And if the two of you make eye contact with each other one more time we’re going to have issues.”
“No eye contact,” Emma promised.
Angi wiggled the feathery brows that framed her espresso-colored eyes. “But you can’t deny the sparks between the two of you.”
Mariella felt her mouth drop open. “He might wish he could shoot fire out of his eyes toward me, but no sparks. None.”
“Definitely sparks.” Emma nodded. “I’m an expert on sparks.”
“I agree,” Angi said. “He looks at you in a certain way.”
“Like I make his stomach upset.” Mariella rolled her shoulders as she glanced toward the gleaming tile backsplash when she couldn’t quite meet Emma and Angi’s speculative gazes. She didn’t like the direction this conversation was going and had no intention of admitting, even to her two best friends, the way butterflies flitted through her chest every time she looked at Alex. At least when he wasn’t outwardly glaring at her. The angry stares kind of put a damper on the butterfly wings.
He was a handsome man. Thick chestnut-hued hair stylishly cut with a lock that had a tendency to flop into his face, and gorgeous hazel eyes. Tall and solid with just the right amount of muscles and an air of confidence that pulled people to him like a magnet. Her reaction was nothing more than having a pulse.
“Remember Gabe and I didn’t have the greatest history when we started.” Angi looked down at the sapphire ring that adorned her left hand with a dreamy expression almost comically out of character for her.
