Is the woman a witch? Because she’s transfixed my daughter. She’d be a benevolent one, of course. Like Glinda. Or Samantha fromBewitched.
But her magic has me under her spell as well. Even when Belle wasn’t reminding me about Poppy today, she was in my head. There was something about the way she smiled, the way she teased me, that I can’t shake.
So when I walk through the doors of the hotel and see a wedding reception in progress, I’m reminded of her.
Is this the wedding she was attending? She said she was at the inn for one. Why hadn’t I pried details from her? For the first time, I regret not talking more.
I walk past the wide doors that open onto the patio where the sounds of music and laughter stream in. Though I don’t slow down, I can’t keep myself from casually checking things out. What I see causes me to freeze in the doorway.
Poppy.
Looking radiant.
In a wedding dress.
She walks toward me, and my mouth opens. And closes.
Unnerving disappointment courses through me, which makes no sense. She’s almost a stranger.
A stranger whom I shared pieces of my life with that I haven’t told even my closest friends.
A stranger with kind hazel-green eyes, the most adorable fucking dimple, and curves I can’t forget.
I replay the conversations in my head and realize she never said she was a guest at the wedding. She never said she was the bride either. But she hadn’t said she wasn’t. She told me she broke up with her fiancé a few months ago, that her life was a hot mess. Had she lied? Had she rebounded to someone new, and that’s why things were so messy?
Talk about burying the lede.
Poppy sees me. Her eyes widen, and she stops in front of me.
“Hi.” I burrow my hands into my jeans pockets.
Her breath catches, but she says nothing, just stares.
I realize how out of place I must look. I’m dressed casually, in jeans and a T-shirt. My hair is wet and hanging around my face. I’m sure I still have remnants of makeup and fake grime on me, despite the quick shower I took before leaving my trailer.
I’d been in a hurry. I told myself it was because I’d hoped, in vain, to be early enough to say good night to Belle. But I also hoped I might bump into Poppy again.
This sure as hell wasn’t what I’d expected, though.
“Hi?” Her voice turns up at the end as if in question. I can’t blame her. She must be wondering what I’m doing here, crashing her wedding.
I try to come up with something. “You, uh, look beautiful.” It’s the truth. Beautiful but different. Tonight, she’s wearing heavy makeup. Her wedding dress is glamorous and ornate, in a way that seems wrong for her. But what would I know? I remind myself that I obviously don’t know her, and what I thought I knew was wrong.
“Thank you.” She blushes and pats her gravity-defying hair. I pray Belle won’t ever ask me to do one of those styles.
“Sorry for interrupting,” I say, feeling off-balance. I forge ahead anyway. “I wanted to thank you for your help with Belle. In the elevator.”
“Oh.” She looks confused. Her eyes widen. “Ohhh. You’re welcome.” She laughs.
I step back, feeling strangely deflated. “Anyway. That’s all. Have a great wedding and…everything.” I turn to walk away.
“Wait!” She grasps my arm with another throaty laugh. “Please. Wait here.”
Maybe the stress of the wedding is making her act strangely.
“Fine.” I don’t really want to wait, not anymore, but I owe it to her after how sweet she was with Belle. And I’m not in a hurry to get back to my room. Belle is already asleep, so all I have planned is a quiet night with my script for company.
She flashes me one last smile and disappears.
