When 4:00 p.m. came and went without any frantic phone calls, Courtney breathed a tiny sigh of relief. Andrew and Laurie were supposed to say their vows precisely at 4:00 p.m. Apparently no one had been left at the altar this time.
At 4:55 p.m., the first limousine pulled up to Eagle Hill Manor’s portico. The groom emerged, wearing a traditional black tuxedo, and then turned and helped his bride out of the car. Laurie had wisely decided not to retread the A-line wedding dress she’d worn two times before—for both of her failed wedding attempts with Brandon. This time around, she wore a ball gown with a creamy ivory lace bodice and a flowing satin and tulle skirt. The dress was killer, but the most beautiful thing about Laurie was the happy smile she gave to her new husband.
If only…Courtney sighed, and then stomped on the stupid, romantic thought.
After all these years, she needed to accept that she wasn’t built for romance. Maybe what Matt had said was true. She was too jaded. Too cynical. Too ready to judge. At thirty-five, she was also too old to change.
Within minutes, the rest of the wedding party arrived, and Courtney ushered them through the lobby to the back lawn, where the photographer proceeded to take a million photographs of the happy couple with the gazebo in the background. Wedding guests arrived soon after, and Courtney was too busy to think about much except taking care of all the small details.
It wasn’t until hours later—after the cocktail hour, the dinner, the toasts, and the cake, when the DJ had cranked the volume on the dance music—that Courtney finally took a break. She snagged a chair at one of the outside tables on the terrace and shucked off her shoes for a moment.
The June night was perfect in every way, balmy with a small breeze and not as humid as it had been the last few days. The twinkle lights over the terrace coupled with the votive candles on every table cast a warm, happy light on the handful of couples who had escaped from the loud music inside and now sat together speaking in low voices.
The setting was so romantic, and the ache in Courtney’s heart returned. It seemed like the whole world had paired up into couples, and here she sat alone, with her shoes off and her back aching. Why did she do it? Why did she spend her days creating this fantasy over and over again?
She leaned back in the chair and tried to find a comfortable position. She closed her eyes listening to the muffled sound of the dance music.
“There you are.”
Courtney startled at the sound of Willow’s voice. Her boss looked radiant in her Audrey Hepburn–inspired brown and cream polka-dot party dress as she sat down at the table. “The wedding was lovely,” Willow said. “And it’s wonderful to finally see Laurie so happy.”
“Well, you know what they say—third time’s the charm.” Courtney did nothing to hide the cynicism in her tone.
Willow cocked her head to one side. “You want to tell me what’s bugging you? You’ve been grumpy for days.”
“Aside from Sid Miller being ill, I’d say my biggest problem is that a lothario seduced my cat.”
“What? And since when do you have a cat?”
“I adopted one of Melissa’s kittens, but it didn’t go well. Honestly, I’m a dud as a spinster.”
Willow laughed.
“It’s not funny.”
“Sorry, but it is…kind of. Since when do you buy into stereotypes?”
“Good point. I guess I fell for the whole single-women-and-cats thing. Imagine my surprise when the Hook-up Artist next door turned out to be a cat whisperer.”
“The Hook-up Artist next door?”
“Matt moved into poor Mrs. Murphy’s place next door. I haven’t had the heart to tell him that the woman died there and wasn’t discovered for a day and a half. But I’m thinking about it. You think it would scare him off?”
“Matt?”
Courtney nodded. “He seduced my cat. And here I've been laboring under the false assumption that single men who had cats were…well, not very hot.”
“You think Matt is hot?” Willow leaned in.
Damn. She’d said too much. She blew out a sigh. “Okay, I confess. I find him attractive. I know he’s too young for me. I know he’s a player. Do not give me a lecture. But the man’s easy on the eye. And the whole thing has thrown me for a loop.”
Willow leaned back in her chair, the lights twinkling in her eyes. “You have a crush on Matthew Lyndon.”
Courtney groaned and then dropped her head to the table, where she thumped it, not so gently, several times. “Yeah,” she said, “and it makes me feel exactly like I did in high school that time I crushed on Ben Katz. You remember what happened when he found out?”
“No. I can’t say that I do.”
“He called me a pimple freak right out loud in the middle of the lunchroom. He made me cry.”
“Oh, honey.” Willow reached out and squeezed her shoulder.
“You were always the one person who never seemed to notice,” Courtney said. “Everyone else would try to be helpful and say stuff like ‘You’ll grow out of it’ or recommend dermatologists. But you ignored it. If I never said thank you before, let me say it now.”
“You’re welcome. You were a fabulous lab partner in tenth grade. We aced every single lab assignment, which was a miracle considering my lack of aptitude for all things STEM-related. So if I never said thank you before,
