With each compliment the couple gave, I felt a soft warmth spread through my chest. It felt like validation, like proof I could hold onto when James tried to direct attention back to himself. Even so, each interruption made my pulse jump.
When the final dish was set down, the bride looked directly at me. “These are perfect. You understood what we wantedcompletely. I already feel at ease knowing you are handling the food.”
Her words hit me harder than I expected. I nodded once, trying not to let my voice waver. “Thank you. That means a great deal.”
Kitty clapped her hands lightly. “This is going wonderfully. I’m so glad you chose the SnowDrop Inn for your venue.”
James smiled like the thought had been his all along. “Indeed.”
When the couple left to explore the inn, James cornered me by the counter in the kitchen. He lowered his voice to the tone he used when giving corrections.
“You plated everything well enough, but tomorrow we should refine your technique. Your citrus garnish needs more confidence. And perhaps let me lead the dessert reveal next time. The cameras prefer a more dramatic flourish.”
I felt myself shrink without meaning to. Somewhere in my chest, an old hurt stirred. I gripped the edge of the counter and tried to breathe through it. Before I could respond, Braxton appeared beside James.
“James,” he said casually, “the director wants you in the lobby for a few reshoots. Something about a walk-through cut.”
James blinked. “A what?”
“Walk-through. Three angles. They need you now,” Braxton cheerily said.
The nearest camera operator perked up. “Yes. We need you in position.”
James straightened his jacket and gave me a final nod. “We will continue this later.”
He followed the crew out, already narrating something about lighting.
My shoulders dropped the moment he left. I felt like I had been holding myself too tightly for too long. Braxton didn’t askwhat James said. He simply picked up a towel and helped wipe down a section of the counter with calm, steady movements.
“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” I said. “I think so.”
“Shall I punch him for you?”
Startled, I looked at Braxton.
“Just a thought,” Braxton murmured before giving me a smile. He started running hot water in the sink to wash the pans.
I reflected that I just might take Braxton up on his offer if I ever worked up the nerve. I stepped in to help and we worked side by side, cleaning the kitchen in quiet companionship.
Meri returned to clear the tasting plates and gave me a small nod. Mom swept in to say she thought everything had gone beautifully and that I should remember to rest before tomorrow.
Braxton finished straightening the last tray of utensils and stepped back. “You handled that well.”
I let out a breath I had been holding for longer than I realized. “Thank you for helping. I did notice you making sure I had room to work.”
“You did all the hard stuff,” he said. “I just moved people out of your way.”
“That helped more than you know,” I whispered.
He held my gaze for a heartbeat. Then he glanced toward the hallway like he was trying to decide something. Whatever thought he had, he kept it to himself. I felt a little happy at the idea that he had been thinking about how to make any of this easier for me.
I finished tidying the last station and hung my apron on its hook. The kitchen looked more peaceful now, though the faint hum of equipment remained. The tasting had gone well. The couple loved the food. That needed to be what I held onto.
When I stepped out into the hallway, the air felt cooler. Lamps glowed softly along the walls, and shadows stretched across the floor. I walked through the lobby, past the tree with its delicate silver ornaments, and out into the courtyard. The night air stung my cheeks, but it felt clean after the noise inside.
A warm light shone from the pool house window. Lucy was inside, probably reading with blankets piled around her. I felt a tug of relief. At least we had warmth now, thanks to the boys. And tomorrow morning we would figure out a shower schedule. We would make it work.
