Page 32 of Wedding Season
It was another example of why it was easier not to get involved in the first place. Every time she took the risk of giving her heart to someone or something like her work she was hurt in the end. She was bound to be rejected or spurned for simply trying, being reminded over and over that she didn’t belong.
At what point would she finally get the message? She dashed a hand over her cheek when an errant tear leaked from her eye. She didn’t want to cry over this. She didn’t want it to matter the way it did.
It had been silly to think that she had any business in the wedding industry given her past.
The front door of the inn opened and Emma walked onto the porch. She raised a hand in greeting.
Anger rushed through Mariella and she welcomed it. Anger was a simpler emotion than hurt or sadness. Temper she could handle.
“One of the guests told me there was somebody loitering in the front yard.” Emma smiled, but Mariella didn’t return it. “Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee?” her friend called, coming to stand at the edge of the front steps.
Mariella stepped forward. “I already had my caffeine for the morning. Imagine how fun it was to have three women I barely know fill me in on how my reputation is one of the things hurting your business.”
Emma closed her eyes and blew out a long breath. “It’s not you.”
“Oh really? Because I read the interview with the jilted groom’s mom on the way over here. She said I had to be asked to leave the premises in order for her son to be coaxed out of the room.”
“We both know that isn’t true. You chose to leave, and the groom didn’t care either way. He doesn’t even know you.”
“But the general public does, and if they don’t, I’m easy to look up. I’m bad for business, Em.”
“Tell that to one of our brides who has worn a dress you’ve designed specifically for her on her wedding day. You make women feel beautiful.”
“When I’m not making them nervous about the bad luck that follows me like a plague.”
“You aren’t bad luck.”
“Tell that to Alex.”
“He doesn’t think you’re bad luck, Mar. No one but you is still consumed with what happened that day.”
“Stop.” Mariella shook her head and tried to calm her emotions. She didn’t want to reveal how much she was hurting right now. Strength and snark were what she wanted to be known for. “I was mentioned by name in the article.”
“So was I,” Emma said as she moved down the steps. “They painted me as a bitter divorcee trying to recapture the happiness I couldn’t manage in my own life. The runaway heiress who is trying to reinvent her life by monetizing the happiness of unsuspecting couples.”
“Reinventing a life shouldn’t be a bad thing.”
“Agreed, but you know how things go with news stories. Anything for clicks or to sell a paper. I’m working on a rebuttal now with testimonials from people who have gotten married here. I won’t let this bring down what we’re building.”
“Yet you didn’t tell me.”
“Angi and I knew it would upset you. You can be sensitive when it comes to your reputation.”
“Because my reputation in the wedding industry is trash. I told you I wanted to be a silent partner behind the scenes. I didn’t want to have any client-facing interactions.”
“Then you shouldn’t be so talented. The dress you designed for Holly was a work of art. Your designs from Belle Vie are still hugely popular. You might not want a high profile, but it’s hard to keep a light like yours under a bushel.”
“Not really,” Mariella muttered. “I was managing it just fine.”
“Don’t let this derail you.”
“How can I not?” Mariella demanded, feeling the burn of tears gathering behind her eyes. She was not going to cry in front of her friend. “My mistakes have hurt so many people and they continue to. I was better off keeping to myself. A small life is what I need.”
“Your heart and your talent are too big to play small even if you wanted to. That’s obvious to anyone who gets to know you. It’s why Mary Ellen requested that you help with the Magnolia Blossom Festival. You make magic out of everything you touch.”
“You’re delusional. There must be a gas leak inside because your mind isn’t working right. Do you want me to call the utility company?”
Emma flashed a grin. “There’s no gas leak.”
