He looked at her frankly. “Why not?”
“Well, well, because the bride put thought into that,” Gabby finally said. And it was the bride’s day.
But Doug just brushed off her concern with a wave. “I don’t think who is sitting beside who at table twelve will be forefront on her mind tonight.”
True. And Gabby supposed that people swapped places all the time to avoid awkward setups or conversations with nosy relatives. Now she stepped toward him, hoping for a peek of the cards, wondering just what Doug was avoiding. Or whom he was trying to get closer to.
“And who is that you’re hoping to sit next to tonight?” she asked.
“You.” His eyes glimmered.
She pursed her lips. Sometimes she was seated with the wedding coordinator and photographers, who barely had time to sit, much less eat a hot meal. It was a courtesy, the table usually being at the back of the room, but with the brides that she grew to know over time, they liked to make her a proper guest, even if she always felt a sense of duty to them until she was sure that every petal was fresh and perfectly displayed.
She eyed the empty place card holder, knowing that Doug was watching her, wondering if she’d dare to commit the crime she’d just accused him of, and switch things around to her comfort zone.
Instead, she forced herself to remember her professional reason for being here, and her polite and handy excuse to leave early. With a faint smile that she hoped masked the tension she felt, she tucked the square of cardstock into its clip and, for lack of anything else to do, accepted a glass of white wine from a waiter.
There was no denying the wicked grin that passed over Doug’s face when he did the same.
“You look rather pleased with yourself,” she noted. “Enjoying yourself then?”
“I’d rather be home. No offense,” he added quickly.
None taken, at least not coming from the source. Gabby frowned at him, wondering if he meant that. Sure, she was already a little tired just thinking about wedding season, but it was also difficult not to be swept away by the music and the decorations and the festive buzz of the guests.
“You’d rather be home alone than outside on this beautiful day, with free drinks, good food, and…” She stopped herself, realizing that she was nearly guilty of the very thing she was accusing him of.
“Weddings aren’t my thing,” he said.
“Well, they are definitely mine.” She laughed under her breath. They were her bread and butter, really, other than Valentine’s Day, which unfortunately only came once a year.
“You made all these?” He motioned around the tent, which was starting to fill up as the band began to play. More people were taking their seats, and with any luck, their table would fill soon and they’d be interrupted.
“That’s my job,” Gabby said, noticing the defensive edge in her tone.
He must have picked up on it, too, because he leaned forward, close enough for her to see the laugh lines around his eyes that made him almost seem likable. “My mother loved the arrangement you made.”
Possibly, he was just flattering her, but still, she couldn’t resist the smile that pulled at her mouth. It had been a beautiful bouquet.
“It was the center of our dinner table,” he added. “She said that all of her favorites were in there.”
There was no pushing back the swell in her chest. “It’s why I love what I do. There’s nothing better than being in the business of putting a smile on someone’s face when they need it the most. That part never gets old.”
He gave her a funny look and then lifted his eyebrows. “I never thought of it that way.”
She wasn’t surprised. Still, she was pleased to see he didn’t try to argue her point. Instead, he just grinned and said, “My mother was certainly smiling, and that was, well, it was nice to see.”
“Oh, I can’t completely take credit for that,” Gabby said, feeling her shoulders relax a bit. “Your dad pays close attention to what pleases your mother, and he knows what brings her joy. It’s so sweet to see people still in love after so many years of marriage.”
She sighed, even though she saw Doug’s mouth thin.
“You don’t agree?” she asked, tipping her head.
He looked over at the bride and groom, who were making their way into the reception, trailed by the wedding photographer.
“Sweet, sure. But…it’s rare.”
Gabby let out a laugh of surprise, even though it wasn’t the least bit funny. “Don’t let anyone else hear you say that. It’s bad luck at a wedding.”
“Well, they’ll need luck if they expect to last as long as my parents,” Doug continued.
Now Gabby’s eyes widened as she looked around, hoping that no one had overheard. “My, aren’t you cynical!”
“Not cynical,” he replied with an infuriating little shrug. “Just realistic.”
She firmed her mouth closed, unsure of what to even say to that. Was it so unrealistic to think that people could fall in love, share a life together, one that they’d look back on in their aging years, reliving memories and moments that no one else could?
“Well, with that attitude, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re sitting at the singles table,” she said haughtily.
“I suppose I’ll be sitting at one for the rest of my life,” Doug commented.
Of course. She should have known. “A confirmed bachelor then?”
She didn’t know why she felt disappointed. Probably because this was why she was always at the singles table. All the good men were taken, and the rest were…confirmed bachelors.
And even some of the not-so-great ones, she thought, sipping her wine.
“Absolutely,” he nodded, though he didn’t smile.
A resigned confirmed bachelor, perhaps. Someone who had given up on love.
Something that she was very close to doing herself.
“Well, I suppose we should sit,” Doug said, as the tables around them began to fill.
Gabby picked up her place card and
