Page 78 of Charmed, I'm Sure
“That should work. Brunch?”
“Mags, do you want me to lock up so we can go to the store?” Jae hollered from somewhere in the shop.
“Yeah, that’s fine!” I called back. Returning to the phone, I added, “It’s a date.”
“Great. I’ll text you the details.”
“Bye, cowboy.”
“See you soon, sunshine.”
“Can you fix the tablecloths on the banquet table and adjust the centerpieces on the high tops, please?” I asked one of the waitstaff as they passed.
They nodded briskly, and I thanked them profusely before heading back to the kitchen.
I was a nervous wreck.
This was the biggest party I’d ever catered, and the sheer number of moving parts had me two seconds away from hyperventilating into a paper bag.
“Ms. Bellevue?” A smooth, lilting voice interrupted my spiral.
“Oh, Mrs. Stephens! Hi, hello. How are you today?” My nerves seeped into every syllable, and I internally groaned. I was supposed to be a professional, and I was quite certain I looked like a floundering idiot.
“I’m well, dear. Thank you.”
Mary Stephens looked like the archetype of an uptight principal, with her slicked-back bun, pressed slacks, and small, rimmed glasses perched on her upturned nose. But she was one of the sweetest people I’d ever had the pleasure of working with.
“Everything looks gorgeous out front, and the food smells divine. You’re going to make my clients very happy, of that I’m sure.”
“I can’t wait to meet them,” I replied with a nervous smile.
I still had no idea who this party was for, and that was seriously unnerving. Mary had been the middleman for every step of the process, from the tasting menu to the final selections. All I knew was that the clients were a young engaged couple hosting an intimate gathering.
A delighted squeal from the backyard drew our attention. Mary turned back to me with a grin. “Guess now’s as good a time as any to introduce you.”
Taylor
My mother was going to kill me.
I should have been here over an hour ago. She’d been blowing up my phone, alternating between angry texts and increasingly impatient voicemails.
But I’d finally gotten the keys to the little house Magnolia and I had looked at over a month ago. The entire day had been spent hauling boxes, unpacking, and making lists of all the things I still needed to buy to fill that very empty house. Sure, I had some stuff in storage, but it was all broke med-student and barely-ever-at-home residency furniture that was practically falling apart when I picked it up off of one of those buy, sell, trade pages on the internet.
So yeah, I was late.
“Fuck me,” I muttered, pulling into my parents’ driveway. Cars lined up and down the drive, and halfway down the street. I hit the call button on my steering wheel. “Call Dad.”
“You better be lost or dying, son,” he answered with a chuckle.
“I’m here. Where am I supposed to park? Did Mom and Addy invite the whole damn parish?”
“Feels like it. She blocked off parking near the shed. I’d hurry, though. She’s about to send outa search party.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be in in a minute.” Hanging up, I navigated toward the family parking area—complete with a sign, because of course, there was.
Christmas music assaulted my ears as I stepped out of the car, and I groaned. For weeks, my mom and sister had tortured me with their carefully curated playlist.
I wasn’t a Scrooge. I liked Christmas. But my mom was basically Mrs. Claus with a southern accent as soon as Thanksgiving dinner ended, and Addy was her protégé. So naturally, her engagement party was Christmas-themed.
