The first rule of wedding planning...

Be prepared for anything!

Wedding planner Adele Hawthorne is prepared for wedding hitches...but not for the best man to be Dan—her ex! They’re thrown together at every turn, and Adele can’t escape their chemistry or the fact that her heartbreaking reason for leaving him all those years ago hasn’t changed. With just days before Dan leaves their winter wonderland, can he convince Adele they still have something worth fighting for?

DONNA ALWARD lives on Canada’s east coast with her family, which includes a husband, a couple of kids, a senior dog and two crazy cats. Her heartwarming stories of love, hope and homecoming have been translated into several languages, hit bestseller lists and won awards, but her favourite thing is hearing from readers! When she’s not writing she enjoys reading (of course!), knitting, gardening, cooking…and is a Masterpiece Theater addict. You can visit her on the web at DonnaAlward.com and join her mailing list at DonnaAlward.com/newsletter.

Also by Donna Alward

Hired: The Italian’s Bride

The Cowboy’s Christmas Family

The Cowboy’s Convenient Bride

Marrying a Millionaire miniseries

Best Man for the Wedding Planner

And look out for the next book

Secret Millionaire for the Surrogate

Available January 2019

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Best Man for the Wedding Planner

Donna Alward

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07846-7

BEST MAN FOR THE WEDDING PLANNER

© 2018 Donna Alward

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

IF THE BRIDE changed her mind about something one more time, Adele was going to lose it. And she didn’t often feel that way. Brides who got jitters or last-minute second thoughts about their ceremony were commonplace enough. But this bride...

She was sweet and lovely, but such a micromanager that Adele was ready to tell her to go to the spa for the next forty-eight hours and not come back until she was as buffed and polished as the ice sculptures due to be delivered just after the wedding but before the reception.

“Are you sure the calla lilies are the right flowers for the centerpieces?” Holly asked, worrying her lip with her French-tipped nail.

“Yes,” Adele replied decisively. “They’re elegant and perfect for the arrangements you picked.” She inhaled calmly and put a reassuring hand on the bride’s arm. “Trust me on this. Your wedding is going to be perfect. Every detail is sorted, and in two days you’re going to stand here in the great hall and get married and it’s going to be magical.”

She looked around at the majestic hall of the famed Fiori Cascade Hotel and gave a little wistful sigh. It wasn’t her first wedding here, but each time she put one together she did a little daydreaming of her own. Sometimes the great hall was the setting; other times it was a smaller, more intimate room. In the summer, weddings on the stone patio with the Rockies forming a dramatic backdrop stole her breath. They were fairy tales, every last one of them.

But fairy tales were for other women. Not for her. Instead she put her heart and soul into creating a perfect day for each deserving couple. It was incredibly rewarding and affirming even if, on days like today, her patience was tested.

“Are you sure? Maybe we should have had roses, or gardenia or something?” Holly asked.

“I’m positive.” She smiled and pulled out her tablet. “And everything is right on schedule. Tomorrow we have the rehearsal and the dinner afterward. The menu is set and the wine selections made. All your wedding party has to do is show up.” She gave a little laugh, trying to dispel the bride’s nerves. “Holly, you’re having your wedding in one of the most beautiful hotels in the world. Trust the staff to do their jobs, and let me look after the details, so you can enjoy your big day.”

A little voice in her head added, and the lifetime to follow, but she didn’t say the words out loud. She was a wedding planner, not a marriage counselor. Once the last glass of champagne was drunk, her job was over. Each time she finished a job, she sent the bride and groom off with a hope for happiness in the future. The wedding was only one day, but marriage was for a lifetime. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

Holly smiled. “Okay.” Then she let out a big breath. “Okay,” she repeated, laughing a little. “I swear, Adele, I didn’t mean to become a bridezilla.”

Adele smiled warmly as her irritation evaporated. “You’re used to being the one looking after the details. I get it. But your job is to delegate and trust that we know what we’re doing. And we do,” she added. “I promise.”

In five years of planning weddings, there hadn’t been a situation she couldn’t handle or remedy, most times without the bride and groom or the guests even guessing that anything had gone awry. Crisis management was something she was good at, and the time crunch of the wedding day barely ruffled her feathers.

“The wedding party arrives today, and we’re going out for some fun tonight,” Holly said, her posture much more relaxed as they walked to the door of the massive ballroom. “I think I might need it.”

“No bachelor party or bachelorette?”

Holly shook her head. “We decided against it. Pete’s best man is coming in from Toronto, and my maid of honor is pregnant, and the rest of the wedding party is all from Calgary and we went out a while ago.” A blush colored her cheeks, and Adele wondered why. A crazy hen night, perhaps? “Anyway, we’re just going to head into town for some dinner and maybe a few drinks. Keep it low-key.”

Considering the wedding was definitely not low-key, Adele was surprised. But low-key in Banff could still be pricey, and Pete and Holly weren’t sparing any expense. It was one of the most lavish weddings Adele had ever planned.

“Sounds lovely,” she replied as they stopped just inside the door. Adele reached for her coat; tomorrow and the next day would be incredibly long and right now she wanted to head home, respond to some emails and phone calls from her in-house office, and then have a glass of wine and some dinner and fall into bed.

She shrugged into her heavy coat and reached inside the pocket for gloves. At least the happy couple had decided on a January wedding and Holly wasn’t being married at Christmas. That might have been a little too hokey. Holly had indeed wanted red as her color at first, but Adele had shown her some photos of other weddings and convinced her to go with navy and silver. Far less predictable, especially now that the holiday decorations were down. Instead of red and green, they could use the cool blues to focus on snowflakes and winter.

“Oh!” Holly stopped and turned back. “I meant to ask you about the ice sculptures. Is there any way we can make them last longer? It would be so neat to have them last all the way through the evening.”

The sculptures weren’t huge and unless they were put outside, they would melt at a pace consistent with the temperature of the room. “We’ll put them out at the last possible minute,” Adele assured her. “But it depends on the heat of the room. That’s one thing I can’t control,” she advised, and put her handbag over her shoulder. “It’s a huge room, but the temp goes up when it’s filled with people.”

Holly looked disappointed, but didn’t persist, much to Adele’s relief. They were just making their way to the lobby when Holly gave a squeal and picked up her pace.

“Lisa! Dan!”

Adele was adjusting her purse strap, but when she finally looked up, her heart froze and her feet stopped moving. Holly skipped forward and hugged first the woman, and then the man standing in a tan wool coat with one hand on the handle of his suitcase and a garment bag over his other arm.

Dan. Just saying his name in her head made her heart squeeze a little. Daniel Brimicombe. Of all the Dans in Toronto, he had to be the best man. It was too far-fetched to be even comical, but here he was, in the flesh, smiling widely for the bride. The man Adele had once planned to marry. The one who’d whispered plans in her ear in the dark.

The man whose heart she’d broken...and in the breaking of it, broke her own.

Best man Dan.

Adele Hawthorne, wedding planner extraordinaire, solver of problems and manager of crises, stood rooted to the spot with her mouth dropped open and her hands hanging uselessly at her sides. This was one wrinkle that she hadn’t seen coming.

“Did you come from the airport together? How smart! Come on, meet my wedding planner. She’s amazing.”

Adele heard the words and tried to unscramble the mess that was her brain. Dan hadn’t noticed her yet, thankfully. She was still trying to recover, and it was difficult because he hadn’t changed at all. Oh, sure, there was a slight maturity in his face but really...it was like it had been eight days rather than eight years since they’d seen each other. Dark, perfect hair, just a little stubble on his chin, and the way his coat fit on his shoulders...as if it had been specifically tailored for his build.

He’d always carried himself with that calm confidence. She’d envied it back then. Still did.

And then he adjusted his garment bag, turned around and saw her.

His face paled. “Delly?”

Her throat tightened. Damn. He’d used his old nickname for her, and that made it a hundred times worse. She wasn’t Delly. Not anymore.

“You know Adele? Oh, my God, that’s so weird!” Holly seemed totally unaware of the shock rippling between Adele and Dan, though Lisa—whom Adele knew was one of the bridesmaids—seemed to be cluing in.

Dan recovered first, and the color came back in his cheeks as he smiled. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We knew each other in university. I haven’t seen her in eight years.”

Eight years, seven months and a couple of weeks, if they were going to be exact about it.

“Hi, Dan. It’s good to see you.” It wasn’t a lie. It was a huge mess, but it was good to see him. What had happened hadn’t been his fault. He’d done nothing wrong.

His eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe she’d said such a thing, and then he nodded. “Likewise.”

Holly finally sensed the tension and stepped in, looking back and forth at them with a small wrinkle between her eyebrows. “You should see the job she’s done putting all this together. I would have been so lost.” She smiled, but it had a worried edge to it.

Lisa held out her hand. “Hi, I’m one of the bridesmaids. Did you help find the dresses? Because I love mine.”

“Oh, I’m glad,” Adele answered, smiling through her anxiety. “There’ll be a seamstress here tomorrow for any last-minute alterations.” She chanced a look at Dan. “For the groomsmen, too. In case anything needs adjusting.”

“Great.”

The rock in the pit of her stomach got heavier.

“Listen,” Holly said, “why don’t you two catch up? Dan, we’re having dinner in town tonight. I’m sure Pete’s given you the details.”

“Actually, he hasn’t, and I’d like to get settled and make a few phone calls before we go out. There are a few things I forgot to tell my assistant before I left.”

Assistant. She didn’t even know what he’d done after he’d finished his business degree.

Plus, he’d basically just said that he had no interest in talking to her at all. Not that she deserved any consideration. She’d never told him the real reason why she’d broken off their relationship, only that she didn’t feel the same anymore. It had been a lie, but at the time she felt it was the kindest thing to say.

As the trio walked away toward the elevators, Adele swallowed the lump in her throat. It hadn’t been a complete lie, after all. She hadn’t felt the same after she’d left her doctor’s office. Her feelings for Dan hadn’t changed, but her feelings about herself and her place in his life had.

The word cancer tended to do that. Especially paired with the word infertility. She’d known he’d be better off without her.

* * *

Dan had to stop gritting his teeth so tightly. If he didn’t, he was going to give himself a toothache, a headache or both.

But seeing Adele this afternoon had been so unexpected that he hadn’t had any time to think or prepare. It had just hit him—wham—right in the solar plexus.

“Another beer, Dan?” Pete nudged his arm.

He shrugged. “Why not?”

Pete ordered another round as the noise in the pub got louder. Was he getting old? At first Pete’s younger sister had suggested a nightclub, but the idea of a crowded place with too much bass and bodies grinding was unappealing. Dan had assumed tonight would be a little more upscale, but instead they’d hit one of the local pubs. He was glad of it, actually—it had been too long since he’d chilled out in such a relaxed atmosphere.

He looked over at Pete and gave a grin. “This reminds me of when we both started with the company. Paying off student loans and heading for wherever had cheap beer and a decent steak sandwich.”

Pete lifted his glass. “Those were the days, huh? Just like old times.”

Yeah, it was. Sometimes he missed it. Now he put in longer days and drinks and dinner were usually business events and not downtime.

He sat back in his chair and let out a sigh. He’d had a good steak and some cold beer and was looking forward to being back in his room and in a comfortable bed. It was past ten, which meant it was past midnight home in Toronto, and he wasn’t in a party mood. He was finally taking a whole week’s vacation and she had to be here. Seeing Adele had taken his celebratory mood and soured it, despite the old times feel to the evening.

The waitress came back with a tray of drinks and put one down in front of him, offering a bright smile. He smiled back, but only out of politeness. She was pretty enough, but once again Adele was in the front of his thoughts. He resented her being there. He’d moved on with his life. She hadn’t really given him a choice about that.

“Dude, are you all right? You look ready to kill someone.” Pete took a drink of his own beer and lifted an eyebrow.

“Didn’t Holly tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

He took a long drink of the brew and put the glass down on the table. “Your wedding planner is my ex.”

“Denise?”

Dan shook his head. “No, of course not. I was never serious about her. I mean the ex.”

The emphasis was all that was needed. “Oh. The one from university.”

“Yeah. And I had no idea. Just boom. There she was, standing in the lobby this afternoon.”

“How does she look?”

He picked up his beer again and angled an eyebrow. “You’ve met her.”

Pete laughed. “I mean, how does she look to you?”

His brain conjured up an image of her standing in the lobby, her warm coat bundled around her, her eyes wide and startled to see him, too. “Too good,” he admitted, and finished the glass. The drinks were going down a little too easily, but there was a limo waiting for all of them to take them back to the hotel. He only had to stagger from the car to his room. Then maybe he’d fall asleep and forget about her.

Pete nodded. “I’m sorry, man. We had no idea.”

“How could you? It’s halfway across the country.” He and Pete had been fresh out of university, and met working for the same eco-energy company in Toronto. Pete’s career had taken him to Alberta, the oil-and-gas capital of Canada, while Dan had stayed in Toronto, rising up through the ranks until he was chief financial officer of the company. It was a massive achievement to reach that level before he was thirty.

“What are you going to do about it?”

Dan looked up at Pete, realizing that despite the generous slab of beef and fries he’d eaten, his reflexes were slowing. No more beer for him. “Nothing. It’s your wedding, and she’s supposed to be making it amazing. I’ll just avoid her is all. Shouldn’t be too hard.” After all, he’d been avoiding thinking about her for at least the last eight years. It had taken nearly two of those years for him to even start dating again. Not that he’d admit that out loud.

Pete grinned. “Well, Lisa’s been looking at you all night. And I know she’s single. Might be a good distraction for you.”

Dan considered. The blonde was cute, for sure, with an easy smile and an attractive figure, particularly in the leggings and snug sweater she’d worn tonight. But he shook his head. “I don’t think so, pal. Wedding hookups can be messy, and I’m not in the mood to play games.”

Even if, by doing so, he could give Adele a glimpse of what she’d walked away from.

He didn’t want revenge. He just wanted to put her in his rearview mirror for good.

The subject was dropped for a while, and after one more round of drinks the group departed for the limo and the hotel. Tomorrow they had free time until the rehearsal at six, with the exception of the last-minute fittings.

As he opened the door to his room, he realized he was looking forward to a morning of actually sleeping in and maybe going for a hike or something. He hadn’t been to Banff since he was in high school on a class trip to Calgary. The only thing that would make it better was if his brother, Drew, was here. His younger brother lived for the outdoors, and the wilder, the better. The opulence of the hotel was great, but right now Dan missed his family. They were all grown and spread out all over the country. Drew wasn’t even in Canada all that often anymore. When had they become so divided?

The bed was turned down and he crawled inside, the ache in his gut growing hollower by the minute. Family...love...it seemed both had taken a back seat to success. Or maybe it was that he’d tried to use success to fill the absence of close relationships in his life. Even the women he’d dated...he didn’t ever get too close to them. Why?

He flopped to his side and sighed. And maybe he should stop thinking so much. Damn Adele for being here, and for dredging up all these feelings, anyway.

The wedding was the day after tomorrow. She was the planner. After that, he wouldn’t need to see her at all, would he?

And he could enjoy what remained of his vacation and go back to his regularly scheduled life.

Without her.

CHAPTER TWO

A WAITRESS REFILLED Adele’s coffee without asking as Adele opened her spreadsheet with today’s itemized list. The hotel coffee shop had become her temporary office, as it allowed her to be closer to everyone involved than her home office did.

Still, her stomach was in knots, and it was more to do with seeing Dan than the wedding. The distraction was stealing her focus. By tomorrow, changes couldn’t be made. Everything had to be in place by tonight.

Her email notification dinged quietly and she let out a frustrated sigh. Holly and Pete had been talking about the cocktail hour and wanted a change made to the signature drink and an addition to the hors d’oeuvre menu. Two extra people were now attending who had declined before, so final plate numbers also needed to be adjusted. And they were family, so the seating arrangements would have to be tweaked, too.

Nothing was earth-shattering, but Adele seriously appreciated those brides who knew what they wanted, set it up and stayed the course. Still, the fee from this event was significant, and as long as everything went off without a hitch, it was a great addition to her portfolio. She was smart enough to know a lot of her grumpiness was brought on from the arrival of Dan. Particularly since he’d plainly shunned her yesterday.

She took a sip of coffee, her stomach rumbled, and she knew she had to eat some breakfast before tackling anything. Within moments, she’d ordered an apple Danish and yogurt—something healthy to balance out the sweet pastry. Dutifully, she ate the yogurt first, and had just taken a first sticky bite of Danish when Dan walked in, dressed in jeans and a sweater so cozy and soft that he looked incredibly huggable. Add to that his thick, dark hair and the shadow of stubble on his jaw and hers wasn’t the only head that turned.

He saw her sitting there and his jaw tightened, his initial relaxed expression evaporating. The nerves that had already been dancing in her stomach started a jig and she put the pastry back on the plate. The fact that he still seemed to despise her put her on edge, but not as much as her own reaction. Today, like yesterday, there’d been a split second of happiness and warmth when she’d looked up and seen him there. As if her heart reacted before her brain could kick in and say, “No, Delly. He’s not for you anymore.” The truth was, it still hurt.

He hesitated, but then came over. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said quietly, standing beside her table.

“It’s the easiest place to have a base of operations the day before the wedding,” she replied, trying a smile. “Do you want to join me? You look like you could use your first morning coffee.”

There was a slight pause, and then he said, “Why not?” and pulled out the chair opposite her.

Adele wiped her sticky fingers on her napkin. “The baked goods here are to die for. Though they do have some breakfast sandwich options, so you can have your eggs.”

The look on his face was so startled that she blushed. “I mean, if you still like eggs for breakfast. Not that I’d know. Just that you used to...” The heat in her cheeks deepened. “I’m sorry. This is awkward.”

“You think?” he said, but then smiled a little, dispelling a tiny bit of the tension. “Actually, it makes me feel better knowing you feel awkward. Yesterday you were so...together.”

“I wasn’t, really,” she admitted. She met his gaze. “To be honest, seeing you was a huge shock. I honestly didn’t know you were in the wedding.”

“How could you?” He shrugged, and then ordered coffee and “anything with bacon in it” to eat. When the waitress left again, he rested his elbows on the table. “I suppose talking this morning should help clear the air. Then we can go through the wedding without any weird vibes.”

It sounded very logical and smart, except there were already vibes. Adele had walked away eight years ago, but not because she had stopped loving him. In a way, it was because she’d cared about him so much. As her Aunt Sally would say, sometimes you had to let a bird go. And if it came back to you, it was meant to be. Dan hadn’t come back. And she’d built herself a good life in the intervening years.

Still, seeing him brought back way too many memories and feelings.

His breakfast arrived and Adele made a point of taking another big drink of coffee as he added milk to his cup. The shop was quiet; this was not the hotel’s busiest season, though there were always groups of skiers who, at this hour, were probably already on the slopes.

He put down his spoon and met her gaze again. “So, a wedding planner. How long have you been doing this?”

She cupped her hands around her mug. “Oh, five years now? On my own, at least. I started working for a company in Vancouver, and then I came to Banff with a coworker one summer to help with an event. I fell in love with the area, relocated and started my own business.”

“Risky.”

She nodded. “It was. But I started small, and now I run it from my home. The office space is downstairs, on the main floor, and the upstairs is my living area.” She relaxed a little, pleased that they could manage small talk. “How about you? You’re still in Toronto?”

He nodded. “I’m CFO of a clean energy company now. I actually took next week off so I could enjoy a bit of a vacation here. Then I’ll stop in at the new Calgary office for a day or so before I head back. It’s been a small operation for the last two years, but we’re putting things in motion to make it our western hub.”

“Wow. That’s...great. And you sound as if you love it.”

“Yep.”

She tried a small smile. “I guess we turned out okay then, haven’t we?”

He didn’t answer, just reached for his sandwich. As he lifted it, she noticed there was no ring on his left hand. “Not married, then,” she said quietly.

“Nope. No girlfriend, either. Though that’s a new development.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “Don’t be. It had run its course.”

He sounded so casual, so blasé about it. Adele sat back in her chair and frowned a little. Small talk was well and good, but there was still a wall between them. Perhaps there always would be. It was a wall she’d built, so she could hardly complain about it, could she?

“And your family? They’re well?”

That, at least, prompted a genuine smile. “They are. Mom and Dad still live in Barrie and we kids are spread all over, but we get together a few times a year and video chat. Morgan has twin babies now. Girls.”

“You’re an uncle.”

He grinned and nodded. “They’re three months old. And Tamara is expecting another boy. She and Chris already have two.”

“Two! Your parents must be thrilled. I know how much they love having a big family.”

She really did know. The “big family” had been a big reason why she’d walked away from Dan and the whole Brimicombe clan. Each time they’d visited, his parents had gone on and on about big families and grandkids and having a house full of babies. Dan had said on more than one occasion that being a Brimicombe meant being a part of a big, happy family. That he wanted at least three or four kids of his own, so that all the cousins and siblings could grow up together, as they had.

Finding out she could never give him the children he wanted had nearly destroyed her. She hadn’t wanted him to be destroyed, too. Or for his family to pretend it didn’t matter when it was so obvious it would.

“They’re over the moon,” he replied softly. “Four grandkids, another on the way and apparently we’re just getting started. Dad wants enough to field his own softball team.”

There was a tone in his voice she couldn’t ignore. Was it that he wasn’t contributing to the grandkid count? Or was it deeper than that? He’d wanted children and still didn’t have any. Even though there was lots of time—he wouldn’t be thirty for another four months—she wondered if seeing his sisters with babies was highlighting something he was missing.

“What about Drew?” she asked, changing the subject to the baby of the family. “What’s he up to these days?”

Dan laughed. “Drew never stays in one place for long. He’s busy setting up Aspen Outfitters locations all around North America. But he gets home a lot to visit. Dad’s sixtieth is coming up in a few months. I know he’s planning to be home for that.” Dan laughed. “Somehow he always manages to drag me out in the wilderness with him for a few days. He tells me if I don’t do that more often, I’ll have to have my phone surgically removed.”

“Sounds about right.” She took another bite of Danish, chewed, swallowed and tried not to feel self-conscious. “I will say, despite it being very touristy around here, unplugging and going for a walk in the mountains does a lot for stress levels.”

“I can see that. I’d forgotten how stunning it is. I’m hoping to do some skiing while I’m here. Get out and breathe the mountain air.”

Quiet settled around them. Did they have nothing more to say to each other? She self-consciously ran a hand over her hair, which was still precisely anchored in her topknot. Adele thought about filling the quiet with the action of finishing her breakfast, but she wasn’t hungry anymore. Her laptop screen had gone dark several minutes ago, so she tapped a key to bring it to life again.

“I’m holding you up from your work,” Dan said, pushing back his chair.

“No, not really.” She bit down on her lip. Hadn’t she just touched the keys to fill the awkward gap? Now, at the first moment he moved to leave, she didn’t want him to go. She was an idiot, plain and simple.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to be polite. I have a fitting in an hour, anyway.” He patted his flat belly. “Gotta make sure the tuxedo fits.”

He was going to be so dashing. She swallowed tightly, thinking about it. Seeing Dan wasn’t just seeing an ex; it was coming face-to-face with the life she might have had if her illness hadn’t stolen it all away. And yet seeing Dan’s face as he talked about having nieces and nephews reassured her it had been the right thing. Dan deserved babies, and lots of them. He would have been supportive and said it didn’t matter, but she knew it did. That it would eat away at him until their relationship paid the price.

And she hadn’t been honest about why she was leaving because she’d been too afraid he’d be able to convince her to stay.

“If you have any questions, I’ll be around the hotel all day.” Adele smiled, though her heart wasn’t quite in it. “Holly and Pete have some last-minute changes, and we’re setting up for the rehearsal in the hall this afternoon.”

He got up, took his wallet out of his back pocket and put a twenty down on the table. “I’m glad we talked, Delly,” he said quietly. “This doesn’t have to be weird. And after tomorrow, we won’t see each other, anyway.”

“Sure,” she agreed, but a weight settled around her heart. It might not be weird for him, but it certainly was for her. She’d spent eight years convincing herself she’d done the right thing. Sometimes she questioned whether she should have kept the truth from him. But then she reminded herself that she’d set him free to be happy. She’d wanted that for Dan. Wanted him to have the family he’d always talked about.

But she had forgotten to take into account how much she’d loved him. And how hard it would be to ignore those old feelings if they came face-to-face again.

* * *

Dan walked into the rehearsal with his nerves already on edge. This morning’s breakfast had taken his thoughts and turned them into a huge jumble of resentment and nostalgia. He’d spent a long time hating Adele for breaking his heart, but then he’d moved past it—at least mostly. Now and again he was reminded that he had an issue with trusting anyone, but as far as feelings for Adele...they’d faded.

Except they hadn’t, really. Being here, with her, took all the feelings he’d thought he’d locked away for good and sent them bubbling to the surface. He’d loved her more than she could ever know. A man didn’t get over that easily. Or, apparently, at all.

What were you supposed to do when The One wasn’t really The One at all?

The rest of the wedding party milled about the hall, their voices echoing through the huge space. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around. Chairs were set up on either side of the aisle... Were they actually painted silver? He looked closer. They were. And each chair had a swath of fabric woven through the top rungs in rich navy. The effect was stunning.

The knot of people at the back of the aisle moved and revealed Adele, deftly weaving more fabric through the slats. She was still in the dark trousers and sweater that she’d worn this morning, but some of her hair had come loose from her knot. Had she been working all day? It was nearly seven and she had several chairs to finish.

She stood, put her hands on her lower back and stretched. The movement emphasized the curve of her breasts and the long column of her neck before she relaxed again and reached inside a box for another strip of material.

Everyone else simply milled about, oblivious to how Adele was still working while they chatted and laughed.

Holly saw him standing in the doorway and beckoned him over. “Come on in, Dan! Meet our officiant, Ms. Fraser. She’ll be performing the ceremony tomorrow.”

He was aware of Adele looking up, then back down again as he strode toward the assembled group. “Ms. Fraser,” he said, shaking her hand. “I’m Dan Brimicombe, the best man.”

“Pleased to meet you. And now that we’re all here, we can get started.” She laughed a little, a warm and friendly sound. “I know you all want to get this part over with so you can have dinner. I’ll try to keep it painless.”

Over the next half hour, Ms. Fraser deftly positioned everyone where they were supposed to be and ran through the order of the service. At one point she asked Adele a question about the placement of the musicians—a string quartet would be playing the processional and recessional—and then carried on. Dan looked over his shoulder and noticed she still had at least a dozen chairs or more to finish. He frowned. Wasn’t this the job of the hotel staff? Surely she wasn’t doing this all herself.

He stood at the front and waited as they ran through the processional yet again, the bridesmaids and bride coming up the aisle and moving into position. It gave him an unfettered view of Adele as she worked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, reaching into the box for more material as she made her way down the row. Someone from the hotel came in with a dolly and what appeared to be a dozen potted trees. As he half listened to the instructions about witnessing the marriage license, he watched Adele instruct the hotel employee and then help unload the ungainly pots and put them into position. As the employee wheeled the dolly back out again, he watched as Adele heaved a sigh, gave a stretch and then went back to work.

After thirty minutes, Ms. Fraser let everyone go except the bride and groom; she had a few final things to discuss with them before everyone departed for the onsite restaurant and the rehearsal dinner. He took the opportunity to go over to Adele. She had just finished tying a strip of satin to a chair and turned to fetch another piece when he held it up for her.

“Oh,” she said, clearly startled. “Thank you, Dan.”

“Have you done all these chairs yourself?”

She shrugged, anchored one end of the fabric and began weaving. “I had someone for the first thirty or so, but it was the end of her workday, and she wasn’t feeling well. I sent her home.”

“So you’re doing it yourself.”

“It’s no big deal. I’d rather have her away from me if she has the flu or something. It’s been going around.”

He frowned. “Did you eat dinner yet?”

She laughed. “I’ll eat when I get home later. The day before a wedding is always crazy. I’m used to this.”

She finished off the chair, leaving a trail of navy satin that looked to be the exact same length as the other chairs. “How do you even do that?” he asked, impressed.

She took another piece of satin from his fingers. “If you always start in the same place, you end in the same place, too.”

“I suppose you’re right. Is this all you have to do tonight?”

She paused in her weaving and looked up at him. “No. All the trees that just came in? They all need white twinkly lights put on them.”

“But there’s...twelve.”

“I know. I counted.” She laughed then, a tired sound, but a happy one, too. “Seriously, Dan. This is not my first wedding. Look, everyone’s getting ready to leave for the dinner. I’ve got this.”

She threaded the fabric and tied it off again, moving down a chair.

“I just think it’s a lot of work for one person. And it’s Holly and Pete’s wedding. They should—”

She stood up and faced him. “They should what?” she interrupted. “This is my job. This is what they pay me to do, and they’re paying me quite well, so why don’t you leave me to it instead of slowing me down?”

He stared at her, his lip curling as her irritated voice carried through the hall. A few people stopped and looked in their direction. Perfect. It was bad enough that Pete and Holly knew that Adele was his ex. Getting in an argument would only prompt more questions. If she wanted to do this all by herself, fine. He’d only been trying to help.

“I wouldn’t want to stand in your way,” he replied, a touch of acid in his words. “I guess I should have realized you like to be on your own, rather than a team player.”

It was a cheap remark but one that he’d perhaps been holding inside for a long, long time. When they’d been together, they’d insisted that they were a team. A partnership. The abrupt change in their relationship had left him floundering. How did someone say she was your partner and then just move on without a backward glance?

This morning had been a mistake. He shouldn’t have stopped for breakfast with her. He should have listened to his gut from the day before and stayed far, far away. Leave the past in the past.

He walked away before she had a chance to turn her back on him once again.

CHAPTER THREE

SHE COULDN’T GET WARM.

Adele hadn’t been lying when she’d said the flu was going around, but she really hadn’t considered the possibility of actually getting it. And not on the day of the biggest wedding of her career. She stepped under the hot spray of the shower, which felt glorious. She’d have to work through it, that was all. She’d stop at the pharmacy for meds, drink lots of fluids and power through. And wash her hands—a lot. She didn’t feel great, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.

She dressed in a variation of her standard uniform, which was generally a little black dress that lent an air of professionalism while also allowing her to blend in with the guests. Today, however, the idea of black stockings and high heels and semi-bare arms was just...no. Instead she pulled out a soft pair of black trousers, her most comfortable heels and a black cashmere sweater. She’d be a little bit underdressed, but she’d be able to do her job and would blend into the background, as it should be. Tea, some acetaminophen, and she’d be right as rain.

She stopped at the drugstore and then for a smoothie, going for a massive vitamin injection. By the time she arrived at the hotel, things were underway. The flower delivery van was parked and workers hustled to get the delicate blooms out of the cold and inside. Adele parked and rushed over to assess their progress, and had a jolt of dismay when she realized the centerpieces for the reception weren’t in the van. A quick phone call assured her they were coming in about an hour, in a separate van. Everything for the reception was being stored near the hall, so that the staff could do a quick turnaround with the room during the cocktail hour in a nearby lounge.

She stifled a sneeze and then reached into her bag for tissues. “Please, please kick in,” she murmured, hoping the medicine she’d taken would help her symptoms and soon. She could be sick tomorrow. Not today. Twelve to fourteen hours was really all she needed.

Once the flowers were inside, she made a beeline for the spa to make sure everything was on schedule for the wedding party. That, at least, was going flawlessly. The bride and her bridesmaids were sitting in chairs, preferred drinks by their sides, having their hair straightened, curled, pinned...whatever their style required. The men, too, had appointments within the hour for hair trims and shaves. Everyone got to be a little pampered on the wedding day. The energy in the spa was warm and celebratory, and she smiled to herself as she left. The few hours leading up to the ceremony were some of the busiest, but also the most exciting.

Tomorrow would be time enough for a little self-pampering. She’d drink tea and stay beneath her very thick, very warm duvet for as long as she wanted. She always took the day after a wedding off as a treat to recoup from the long hours.

The centerpieces arrived and were properly stored. Adele lit the twinkle lights on the twelve trees. A small podium was installed for the justice of the peace, and the chairs were set up for the string quartet.

Her phone rang.

She hung up five minutes later, her heart pounding. Four of tonight’s servers had called in sick with the same flu. Four. With a guest list of two hundred and fifty, that made a huge difference. They were going to try calling in people who were off today, but with the virus going around, Adele wasn’t hopeful. At least the photographer, Harper McBride, showed up early. Harper owned a studio in town and had quickly become Adele’s go-to for weddings, as well as Adele’s best friend.

Harper took one look at her and frowned, her blue eyes worried. “You’re sick. You caught the plague.”

Adele couldn’t help but laugh, a welcome sensation that had been absent the last few days. “I did, yes,” she admitted. “I was hoping it wasn’t noticeable. I’m hopped up on daytime flu meds and a huge smoothie. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you too well. You look great, except the glassy look in your eyes. Well, darlin’, the timing sucks.” Harper lugged one of her bags into the room and hid it in a corner at the back, where she’d set up unobtrusively. “The place looks amazing, though. I think it’s your best yet.”

“Thanks.” The praise went right to Adele’s heart. Harper had a brilliant eye and was also unfailingly honest. “Not too much white?”

Harper shook her head, which provoked one of her auburn curls to escape. “With that rich blue satin on the chairs and the silver accents? Not at all. It’s gorgeous.” She leaned a little closer. “I’m so glad you convinced her not to do the red.”

Adele laughed. “Me too. Look, I know you have other stuff to do. I’ll see you in here later, though?”

Harper nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I have the wedding-party photos to do, and all that ‘day of’ stuff. Do me a favor and go get yourself some hot tea. Mint or ginger or something.”

That sounded delicious, so as Harper went on her way, Adele zipped to the coffee shop and put in her order. Just as she reentered the wedding hall, she noticed a delivery being unloaded that was all wrong.

She rushed forward, trying not to spill her tea and checking her phone for the time simultaneously. Instead she dropped her phone, held on to her tea and called out, “Stop!”

Everyone halted, but one delivery person got a strange look on her face. “Can I please put this down? They’re heavy.”

Of course they were. They were the ice sculptures that weren’t supposed to be delivered for another five hours.

“Why are you here now? The sculptures weren’t supposed to be delivered until four o’clock.” She bent and picked up her phone. The screen protector had cracked, but everything else looked okay. Thank goodness for small mercies.

“Our order said to leave at nine thirty. It’s just over an hour’s drive in our refrigerated truck.” The apparent supervisor pulled out a folded paper and scanned it. “Look. Says here nine thirty.”

Adele tucked the phone in her pocket and reached for the paper. It did say nine thirty, but she’d specifically asked for four o’clock, which meant a two thirty departure from the city. “We can’t put them out now. They’ll be melted before the ceremony! Even four was pushing it.” The idea was for them to arrive at just the right time, so that they could be set up with the champagne within the reception configuration.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. But we’ve got another delivery today, and we can’t take them all the way back to Calgary and drive back out again this afternoon.”

She considered asking the kitchen staff if there was storage space there. But these were three forty-pound blocks, shaped like snowflakes. Getting them from the kitchen to this room would be a challenge for the already understaffed crew.

Her phone rang.

They were still three staff members short for tonight’s dinner service.

And she felt like crap—more so every minute.

Slow down and think, she reminded herself, trying to stem the feeling of panic crawling through her. She could handle this. It was her job. She handled anything that was thrown at her, right?

“Ms. Hawthorne?”

“Just a minute,” she answered, trying to think.

Her phone rang again. When she hung up, she felt ready to cry.

Two members of the string quartet were down with the flu and so sick they were unable to play.

“Ms. Hawthorne,” the delivery man said again. “What do we do with the sculptures?”

“I don’t know!” she blurted out, and then let out a huge sigh. “I’m sorry. I suddenly have three crises and I need a moment.”

She stood in the middle of the floor, wanting nothing more than to be back in bed. She was cold, she ached and she was simply tired.

Melting sculptures. Understaffed. No music. She knew bad luck came in threes, but she’d never had it happen at a wedding before.

“Is something wrong?”

She closed her eyes. Not Dan. This was the last thing she needed.

Take a breath. Smile.

She turned to face him and attempted the smile. “Oh, just some last-minute wrinkles I need to sort out.”

He was frowning at her. “I get the impression it’s more than a wrinkle.”

“I can handle it.”

“I know. So you’ve told me several times. But do you need help?” He stepped forward, his eyes earnest. “Sometimes handling it means delegating. But I’m sure you know that, too.”

“The sculptures are hours early. They’ll be melted before the reception even starts.”

“A freezer in the kitchens?”

“I thought of that. But then we have to move them again...and we’re down staff members. The flu.”

“What about outside? On the balcony? It’s cold enough they’ll stay frozen. We could ask if we can have a dolly and move them all back at once when they’re needed.”

“It might work. Let me make a call.”

When she got approval to move the ice sculptures outside, Dan stepped in and helped load them onto the dolly, and then supervised delivering them to a corner of the balcony where they could come back and get them in the afternoon. Adele waited inside, where it was warm, but when he came back in, she ate a little humble pie. “Thank you, Dan. I was suddenly so overwhelmed. This is a great solution.”

“About getting them back to the room and unloaded...”

“You’ll have photos with the wedding party. Don’t worry. I’ll find someone. And if I have to, I’ll get it myself. I can lift forty pounds.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You haven’t started lifting weights, have you?”

She laughed in spite of herself and then covered her mouth. “No, though I do run quite often. Just not today. Today I’m in crisis-management mode.”

“What else has gone wrong?”

“Besides not enough staff to serve tonight? I’ve lost the string quartet. I don’t know how I’m going to break that one to Holly. She’s going to lose her mind.”

“Probably.” At her wide-mouthed expression, he shrugged. “It’s her wedding day. I’m assuming she wants everything to be perfect.”

“I don’t know if I can get a substitute at this late hour. And I still have to find three more servers somewhere. I have an idea about that, but I have to clear it with the catering office first.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? I’m off the hook until the before-wedding pictures at one.”

Was he genuinely offering to help? It seemed he was. She gazed up at him, unsure of where she stood. “Last night we didn’t exactly end things on friendly terms,” she said.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did at the end,” he admitted, his gaze never leaving hers. “About the team player thing. It was a cheap shot. You’re right. This is your job and you know what you’re doing. I let personal resentment get in the way.”

“I guess I’m glad that you’re able to admit you resent me,” she replied softly. “I prefer honesty over subtext. And I don’t blame you, Dan. I just...don’t want to fight now. It was so long ago.”

But was it, really? Clearly not if both of them were unsure of what to say or how they felt.

“The thing is, I want to keep on being angry. And I can’t. I’m just...oh, hell. I don’t know what I am. But I do know that my best friend is being married today and if his bride is unhappy, it’s not going to be good for any of us.” He smiled at her. “So, if there’s anything I can do to help you out of your pickle, let me know. Hand me your phone.”

She did, because she was too surprised to do anything else.

“There.” He handed it back. “My number’s in there. If you don’t find a replacement for the quartet by noon, message me. I might have something up my sleeve.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, looking down at the phone and back up. “That’s...kind of you.”

He took a step back. “I might still be a bit angry with you, but it doesn’t mean I want you to fail, Delly.”

“No one calls me that.”

“I can call you Adele if you want.”

She swallowed against a lump in her throat. “It doesn’t matter.”

“If nothing goes wrong, I’ll see you at the ceremony.”

“Or before. I’ll be taking the boutonnieres to Peter’s suite before your photos. Those are the last flowers to arrive.”

He gave her a mock salute and headed off down the hall, leaving her standing there, feeling unsure and off-balance. And only a little of that was because of her illness.

* * *

A brief discussion with the contract manager gave her the ability to bring in three additional servers, paid out of her own pocket. She called Emmeline and Jerry Richards, who owned a catering business she’d used often. They’d send three servers to the hotel by four o’clock so they could meet with the banquet staff ahead of time. Then she went to the bridal suite, where she faced a radiant and excited Holly.

“How is it? Is it all coming together?” Holly asked. “What do you think? The dress is still perfect, isn’t it?” Harper was there, snapping pictures, and despite her growing fatigue, Adele went forward and adjusted the zipper and hook at the back of the dress.

“It’s lovely. And it is all coming together, with one hitch.”

Holly’s face fell. “Oh, no. Is it bad?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, but it’s big enough you need to be aware. Your string quartet has backed out. Half of them are down with the flu.” And apparently not as amenable to working while sick as she was.

“But...that’s all the music!” Her voice raised with panic. “That’s what I’m supposed to walk up the aisle to!”

“I know,” Adele said, feeling a little panic herself but keeping calm for the sake of the bride’s sanity. “I’ve got calls in to a few replacement ensembles that I’ve worked with before. I’m hopeful, because January isn’t a busy wedding month. We might be lucky.”

“And if we’re not?”

Adele reached out and took her hand. “I have never let a bride down yet, and you won’t be the first.”

“Okay.” Holly let out a breath. “I’m going to trust you with this, Adele. Please, please make it work.”

“Everything else is ready, and your flowers should be on their way up in the next thirty minutes. The weather is perfect, too, so don’t fret.” She sent a reassuring smile. “I’ve pulled off miracles before.”

She left the suite and rested against the wall after the door was shut. Keeping a bright face had been a big chore. She needed to take another dose of pills soon; the fever and chills were worsening, and her whole body ached.

Her phone dinged with a text message—the quartet she’d used before was already booked for this evening. That only left one option. If they weren’t available...

She grabbed a bottle of water, but then stopped and got a bowl of soup to get her through the day. The warm broth helped her throat, which was feeling a bit raw, and revived her a bit. Until she got the final refusal. They were two and a half hours from wedding time and had no music. Holly was not the sort of bride who would want a recording played for her walk down the aisle, either.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. She tapped in a text message to Dan, asking for his help. By the time she’d finished her soup, he’d messaged back, saying that a pianist and flautist would be there and set up by two thirty, and if guests could wait until after that to be seated, it would allow them a few minutes to warm up.

She hadn’t wanted to rely on him, but he had come through anyway. Just like he always had when they’d been together.

Her heart ached a bit thinking about it. If she’d told Dan she’d been diagnosed with cancer, he would have stood beside her. If she’d told him it had spread to her uterus and she had to have a hysterectomy, he would have held her hand and insisted it would be all right.

And then she would have had to face him every day, feeling responsible for denying him the joy of his own children. Wondering if he would grow to resent her as his siblings had children and they remained childless. If he’d regret staying with her all that time, and if he’d eventually stop loving her.

The way her dad had stopped loving her mom.

Dan was still a good man. And he had come through today, helping her out of a jam. But nothing had really changed.

Nothing at all.