“There was no footage because there was no camera because it wasn’t done to impress, inspire, or entertain anyone.”
Dominique drew back at the note in Cindy’s voice and MJ stood a little straighter.
“It was a beautiful moment that will live forever in my memory.”
She huffed a shuddering breath. “Fine. Now, can we get to the B-roll now that you’re?—”
“No.” Cindy squeezed her sister’s hand but kept her eyes on Dominique. “You’re not covering our wedding ceremony or reception,” she said. “I don’t want Aisle Files here in any capacity. There will be no content for you, and you can…take the day off.”
The other woman’s jaw dropped. “Why don’t you just close up shop now, Cindy, because without us, you will?—”
“Succeed,” MJ finished. “We have our own little social media guru, a few marketing geniuses in our family, and a history of hospitality and joy.”
Cindy nodded in solidarity. “My sister’s right. We don’t need you to promote the venue but appreciate your interest.”
For a long moment, the other woman stared at her, the look on her face saying she was not used to being turned down in any capacity. “Cindy, I’m sure we can?—”
“Actually, we can’t.” Jack walked up behind Cindy and put his arm around her in a show of loving solidarity. “I think you heard my wife.”
My wife.
Oh, it had been too long since Jack had called her that. Unexpected tears sprung as she leaned into her husband and hero.
Dominique’s gaze flitted over him. “Fine. I can still work with the bride at the Grand Hyatt. Parker!” She clapped her hands. “Sloane! Where are you?”
The cameraman slinked into the room, dragging a tripod. “We heard. We’re packing up.”
Her nostrils flared with her next breath.
“Can I get you some wet towels for that suit?” MJ asked, the picture of cordiality. “I wouldn’t want the buttercream to stain.”
“No, thank you. Goodbye.” She slid her gaze to Cindy and then to Jack. “Best of luck to both of you.”
With that, she pivoted and walked out, leaving them silent for a beat.
“Well,” MJ said, “I guess the dogs didn’t stay in the kitchen as planned.”
Laughing, Cindy shook her head, shocked at how relieved she was. “Come on, let’s go survey the damage.”
MJ walked ahead, but Jack held tight, keeping Cindy back.
“You sure?” he asked, his brows lifting.
“Never been so sure of anything. Well, except that ‘I do’ I just said.”
He kissed her lightly. “Good call, Mrs. Kessler.”
Arm-in-arm, they headed through the back doors, around the kitchen, to find the entire family—and two very guilty dogs—in the dining room. The wedding cake was…demolished.
“The good news is there was no chocolate,” Benny said, carefully wiping Sir Isaac Newton’s face.
“And ChatGPT said that none of the ingredients Gracie used are toxic,” Olivia added, also cleaning off her border collie. “Imean, unless you count sugar, which my father says is the devil’s favorite spice.”
Gracie, standing by what was left of the cake, didn’t smile. Instead, she looked up at Cindy with true pain in her eyes.
“Aunt Cindy, I can make another one. I’d miss the dinner tonight, but?—”
“No, you won’t,” Marshall said, stepping close to her. “Ican make the cake. Olivia will help.”
