Always the Baker, Never the Bride (27 page)

I know this is a wacky time to start praying again. But please don’t let me slop anything on this dress. A large, supernatural bib would be greatly appreciated.

“Gravy?”

“No thanks.”

Stephen West touched her arm. “No. I mean, would you pass it?”

“Oh!” Emma tried to smile. “Sorry.”

She cringed as she reached for the gravy boat, hoping the sleeve of her jacket didn’t come back with some of her salmon hanging from it.

Victory.

She handed Stephen the gravy, and he thanked her with a warm smile. Emma wasn’t sure she’d ever seen teeth as white as Stephen’s.

“The food is spectacular,” he commented, filling a ridge cut across his potatoes.

“Chef Morelli is a genius. You should see what he’s planning to do with simple barbecue.”

“Barbecue!” he exclaimed. “I wouldn’t think of Morelli as a barbecue kind of guy.”

“Oh, he’s not. Definitely not,” Emma chuckled. “We have a wedding coming up that is sort of sports themed. He’s adapting.”

“A sports-themed wedding.”

“Baseball. Atlanta Braves, to be precise.”

“Romantic.” Stephen curled his upper lip and shook his head. “Not.”

“I guess it is for the couple who met at a Braves game.”

Stephen considered that, and then shook his head again. “Not.”

Emma flaked another bite of salmon with her fork and popped it into her mouth.

“So, what do you do, Stephen?”

“I own the staffing company the hotel worked with,” he replied. “For the housekeeping staff, the waiters, that kind of thing.”

“Oh! You’re that West,” she said with a nod. “Georgiann said you were really great.”

“Did she? Nice to know. Thank you.”

With her fork in midair and her wandering thoughts jumping from the Falcons sideline package on the auction table, Emma just happened to glance toward the door, and she did a double take.

“Uh oh.”

“What is it?” Stephen asked.

Emma dropped her fork, pushed back her chair and popped to her feet. “Excuse me.” Before he could reply, she was on her way across the ballroom toward the door where her Aunt Sophie was standing in her mint green ball gown, white satin gloves and crooked tiara. As she got closer, Emma realized Sophie was also wearing white terrycloth bed slippers.

Jackson must have seen her too because he appeared at Emma’s side just a few yards away from the door, and they both hurried toward Sophie without actually running.

“Aunt Sophie!” Emma hugged her and then kissed her on the cheek. “How did you get here?”

“I took a taxicab,” Sophie stated. “Just like last time.”

Emma and Jackson looked at one another.

“A taxicab,” Emma declared. It was clearly a revelation for them both.

“Sophie, you look exquisite,” Jackson told her. Offering his arm to Sophie, he turned to Emma and said, “Get your mother.”

Emma nodded and turned to scan the room.

“Ten o’clock,” Jackson directed. “At George’s table.”

Emma scurried off in that direction and sighed when she caught sight of her mother.

“Emma, darling. Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I really am,” she said, her smile just a little too wide to be genuine. “Mother, could I see you for a moment?”

“Now? We’ve just started—”

“I know, I’m sorry. But there’s someone here you’re really going to want to see.”

Avery regarded her daughter’s concrete smile for several beats, and then she returned it with a slightly more normal one. “Of course. I hope you’ll all excuse me for a moment.”

The instant they stepped away from the table, Emma linked her arm with her mother’s and whispered, “Aunt Sophie is here.”

“What?” Avery replied softly, the elegant just-right smile still pasted to her face.

“And get this. She took a taxi.”

“Where did she—”

“I have no idea. But she’s here.”

“Oh, good grief,” Avery said as soon as she caught sight of her sister. “Jackson, I just could not be more sorry.”

Jackson shook his head. “No need at all. Sophie has just been charming me with stories about growing up in Savannah.”

“Sophie,” Avery enunciated. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw the announcement about the party on the evening news,” she told them. “I don’t remember getting my invitation, but I knew I had to be here to help Jackson and Emma Rae celebrate their wedding.”

“Oh no, Darling, it’s not a wedding. It’s just a party to mark the opening of the hotel.”

“Don’t be silly, sister.”

Sophie was already holding Jackson’s hand, and she took Emma’s with her other. “Isn’t Emma Rae the most beautiful bride you’ve ever seen? I wish you’d have told me about your dress, sweet pea. My bridal veil would have been perfect. It’s made out of real Chantilly lace from Paris. Our grandmother wore it for her wedding too.”

“That’s such a sweet thought, Aunt Sophie.” Emma covered Sophie’s hand between both of hers and kissed her. “But honestly, this isn’t my wedding. It’s a party for Jackson’s hotel opening.”

Sophie looked at Jackson and cocked her head to the side. “Jackson. You own a hotel?”

Creating Delicate Sugar Roses

• For small, detailed rosebuds, it is best to use gum paste or sugar paste, colored in green (for the leaves) and pink (or whatever color you want your roses to be).
  
• Prepare a flat Styrofoam holder for the roses.
  
• Create foundational cones that are slightly smaller than the petals you’ll be using.
  
• Insert a toothpick into the bottom of the cone, and poke the cone into the holder so that it stands upright. You can do this 24-48 hours ahead so that the cone will dry completely.
  
• Roll out the colored sugar paste and cut out three petals.
  
• Using a dog-bone tool, bend the edge of the petal so that it takes on a realistic curve. If you’re making a volume of roses, place the petals in a plastic container so they don’t dry out.
  
• Brush the cone with a layer of sugar glue, and wrap a petal around it tightly, covering the pointed end.
  
• Brush with sugar glue again, and wrap two more petals into place.
  
• Use your fingers to create a flutter shape in the petals and allow them to dry for 30-45 minutes.
  
• While drying, cut out three more petals and repeat the sugar glue treatment.
  
• Place the next layer of petals so that they overlap.
  
• Brush with sugar glue and dry completely.
  

17

I
appreciate this so much.”

Emma removed the tiara from Sophie’s head and set it on the nightstand next to the bed. Stroking her aunt’s silken hair, she asked Fee and Peter, “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Fee replied. “Go downstairs and present the cake. We’ll be quiet as church mice while Sophie sleeps.”

“Thank you.” Emma squeezed Fee’s hand. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

Standing in the doorway, Emma took one last look at her aunt. The green taffeta dress looked oddly out of place poking out from beneath the quilted bedspread, loosely grasped with satin-gloved hands.

“Sleeping Beauty,” she commented, and Fee grinned.

The moment the elevator doors opened on the lobby level, Avery was there to meet her.

“She’s fine, Mother. Already asleep.”

“Emma Rae, I’m so sorry. I hope this hasn’t ruined your party.”

“No worries. Fee and Peter will watch over her until after the cake is served. Then I’ll stay in her room overnight, and we’ll take her back in the morning.” The two of them walked side by side down the carpeted hallway leading to the ballroom. “But you really have to talk to the administration, Mother. She can’t just come and go as she pleases.”

“I know.”

“We might have to think about moving her—”

“Oh, I’d hate to do that. She’s already made friends, Emma. You should see her when she’s there. She’s at peace.”

“But not peaceful enough to stay on the premises, Mother.”

They reached the ballroom entrance, and Avery hesitated. Pressing two fingers to her temple, she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were misted with a glaze of emotion.

“It’s going to be all right,” Emma promised, taking her hand. “We’ll make adjustments. Everything will be fine.”

“She’s my big sister,” Avery remarked. “It’s difficult to see her this way.”

“I know. But she’s still the same Sophie inside.”

Avery lifted a tired smile and gave a fragile stroke to the bend of one of Emma’s wavy curls. “You look so pretty tonight, sweetheart.”

“Thank you. But you’re the most beautiful woman in that room.” Emma grinned. “In any room.”

“Well, now you’ve just gone crazy,” Avery teased.

“I’ll have them serve you a warm dinner.”

“I couldn’t eat.”

“You have to eat, Mother.”

Avery raised a perfect arched brow, then she smoothed her hair as if it might be out of place. “Role reversal doesn’t suit us, Emma Rae.”

Emma chuckled. “Then don’t make me do it.”

“Where did you two get off to?” Gavin asked them as he stalked toward them.

“Aunt Sophie’s here.”

He stopped in his tracks and heaved a sigh as he scratched his head. “Well, Nell’s silver bells.”

“It’s fine now. She’s upstairs in a room.”

“Alone?”

“No. Fee is with her.”

Gavin angled his head toward Avery and cinched up his mouth into an odd little grimace. “Can I do anything?”

“Not by all prior proof to the contrary. And really, Gavin … why start now?”

Gavin and Emma stood by and watched her as Avery floated across the ballroom toward her table.

“Funny. I didn’t even see that one barreling toward me,” he said.

“Yeah. She’s sneaky like that.”

Emma poked her head inside the door to the kitchen with a wary smile.

“Is it safe to enter?” she asked Pearl, Anton’s sous chef.

“At your own risk,” she replied, wrinkling her nose and grinning from ear to ear.