Daphne looked over at him warily, reaching for the mashed potatoes. “Interesting how?”
“Turns out the Wisteria Inn is in a bit of a bind. You remember how I told you that Travis Langford and Lindsay Monroe were going to have their big celebrity wedding next month at the inn?”
“Travis Langford?” Nate paused his glass to his lips, brows high. “As intheTravis Langford? Billionaire tech guy?”
Jack nodded. “And Lindsay Monroe, the small-town Wisteria girl turned social media phenom and model.”
“I went on a date with her once in high school,” Nate offered, passing his plate to Daphne for some bean casserole. “She wasn’t a fan of my truck.”
“Is that how you remember it?” Jack barked out a laugh. “As I recall, she wasn’t a fan of your acne.”
“Or the mullet,” Rosemary added with a grimace. “Not a good look for you, Nate.”
Daphne nearly spat out the tea she’d just sipped. She sent Nate a smirk. At least these people of hers spared no one in the teasing department.
“But look at you now, sugar,” Granny D chimed in, waving her fork toward him like a wand. “Sweetly handsome, as my mama used to say. And that clean-cut look does you all sorts of good.”
“Sweetly handsome?” Nate asked, visibly offended.
“Mm-hmm...” Granny D nodded her thanks for a spoonful of potatoes. “If you’d just put some fuzz on that chin of yours, you’d look like a full-growed man.”
Jack’s laugh burst out again, nearly tipping his glass. Rosemary snorted so hard she startled the cat off the windowsill.
Trying to salvage Nate’s dignity—because apparently, she wasthatkind of friend—Daphne redirected. “I’d die to be a fly on the wall for that wedding, Jack. Can you imagine the food? The decor? That cake is probably going to need its own security detail.”
“Actually”—Jack slid his empty plate toward Granny D, who rewarded him with a healthy scoop of corn bread pudding—“that’s the problem.”
Utensils paused midair. All eyes turned toward him.
“The catering plans fell through.”
Daphne blinked. “Wait—what?”
“They’d hired some fancy celebrity chef—friend of Travis’s—and last week he ghosted them. No calls, no emails. Gone.”
Daphne coughed on her potatoes. “That’s a nightmare. For a wedding that high profile? The internet will eat them alive.”
“And it’s awful for Lindsay,” Rosemary added, more serious than usual. “I mean, I’m no expert on wedding stuff—”
“She says, while curating an entire Pinterest board titled ‘My Accidental Wedding,’” Daphne muttered.
Rosemary grinned but continued, “Still, the girl’s from here. This whole town is watching. She doesn’t need public humiliation on top of wedding stress.”
“And it’s not a great look for Wisteria either,” Jack added, his tone shifting just enough to catch Daphne’s attention. “Especially heading into autumn tourist season.” He gave her a look that should’ve come with a siren. Daphne slowly lowered her fork. “Which is why Harry and I thought someone local could step in. You know... bring a more homespun feel to the big day.”
Who would be crazy enough... Daphne froze, mashed potatoes midair. “No,” she said. “No, no, no. Me? You wantmeto cater a celebrity wedding?”
“Why not?” Jack shrugged like it was just another Tuesday. “They want it small. Local. Detailed. Thoughtful. Travis is pulling every string he can to fix this for Lindsay, and she specifically asked if someone local could step in.”
He gestured toward her with his glass. “And you’re good at detail. At class. And muffins.”
“That much flattery means they’re really desperate.” Daphne pinched her eyes closed. She’d never done anything as classy or visible as a celebrity wedding! A birthday party for the mayor’s daughter, but that wasn’t even close.
“Seriously, though,” Nate chimed in, tilting his tea, “this could do wonders for Tea Thyme. And Wisteria in general. People are gonna eat this up—literally and figuratively.”
“And”—Jack held her gaze—“it might be exactly what you need for the shop.”
“Think of how we can spin it for social media,” Rosemary said.
