Page 19 of Always a Bridesmaid
Naively, she’d thought the fact that she and Benjamin had been in a committed relationship negated his player qualities. Like how he’d check out women whenever they were out and about. She’d written it off as him being a typical male who couldn’t get his ogle under control. Now she realized he’d never stopped searching for someone prettier and better than she was.
Sometimes he’d go a whole week without acknowledging her, besides to criticize her absentmindedness. Eventually, she would get upset, and then he’d apologize and make a grand gesture that lulled her into a false sense of security.
Which is why I’m done with men in general.
No more falling for their tricks. Nope, nope, nope.
Violet busied herself with the multicolored wall stickers she’d discovered on Etsy. She’d originally planned to buy stencils, but she’d found vinyl watercolor dots that were bright, whimsical, and the perfect size.
“Excuse me…” she heard, followed by a gravelly, “Her name’s Violet.”
“Excuse me, Violet.” Out of the corner of her eye, manicured fingernails flashed, signaling it’d come from the blond bridesmaid. “Could I ask your opinion on something?”
Violet slowly pivoted toward the table with the wedding party. Four sets of eyes were on her, but for some reason, her gaze went to the one male pair. In this light, she couldn’t tell if they were hazel or green, and why did that matter?
She cleared her throat. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. Just ask Ford—baking and I don’t mix.”
Damn it. Why had she set herself up for an embarrassing retelling of yesterday’s disaster?
Lexi rose from her chair and grabbed Violet’s hand. “Don’t worry.” She guided her into the seat next to her. Which, as her shoddy luck would have it, was also next to Ford. “I just need another female perspective. While Addie is technically female, she’s missing the part of her brain that cares about decorations, dresses, and ensuring the cake is the pièce de résistance it should be.”
While this Lexi chick was fancier than Violet ever would be, she agreed on that point. Yes, cake made any celebration better, but aweddingcake symbolized a commitment to provide for each other. Cutting from the bottom tier signified longevity.
Addie slumped back in her chair, legs spread wide. “She’s not wrong. I’ve decided on white chocolate with raspberry cream, but as far as style goes, I’m lost. When it comes to cake, my goal is to take a bite ASAP, not note how fancy it is. And big extravagant cakes scare me because I just know I’ll bump into the table, knock the whole thing over, and ruin everything.”
“In this case, you’ll be the bride, so people would forgive you.” Lexi shot Addie a semi-stern expression. “Don’t you dare knock it over, though—that’s not the goal, and I can’t believe I have to even say that, but I feel like I do.”
“Yeah.” Ford flicked Addie on the arm. “Stop trying to sabotage your own wedding. But if you do happen to knock it over, I’ll declare a food fight, and we’ll turn the party right around. It’ll be like sixth grade all over again, when you pelted Derek Wheeler with your apple for saying girls couldn’t throw as good as boys.”
Addie snorted. “I got in so much trouble, but my detention didn’t last nearly as long as his black eye.”
The full glare Lexi aimed at the pair made Violet want to slink away but didn’t seem to bother Ford in the least.
Addie flashed an apologetic grimace. “Sorry. Seriously, I couldn’t care less about what the cake looks like. I’m sure whatever Maisy makes will be awesome.”
“See what I mean about needing another female perspective?”
Violet couldn’t help but glance at the grandmother.
“I am also female,” Lucia said. “But I say whatever makes cake easiest to sneak underneath my daughter-in-law’s nose, and apparently that’s no an acceptable answer.” The legs of her chair scraped the floor. “Speaking of smuggling, I gonna go get the brownie bites before my parole officer checks in.”
For an older lady, she certainly could hustle. She rushed over to the cash register and began pointing at the treats, and Brooke, the nineteen-year-old who worked part-time at the bakery, gathered them into a box.
Lexi sighed. “If Maisy wasn’t so busy, I’d ask her for help with my confounded wedding crew. If only I hadn’t left my binder in my car, I’d at least have examples. Anyway, could you weigh in? For instance, how many weddings have you been to where the cake hasn’t had more than one tier? Addie was like, why not just have a giant flat cake? Like it’s a barbecue or someone’s retirement party.”
Way too aware of the guy on her other side and how heavy his gaze pressed against her, Violet licked her lips. “Admittedly, I’ve been to a lot of weddings—in fact, I’ve been a bridesmaid seven times. And every cake has been a tiered work of art. Personally, I love seeing the way a couple expresses themselves in so many different ways, from the cake to the decor to the bridesmaids dresses and tuxes andgah, the wedding dress.”
Tingles erupted, rushing through her entire body, the overly romantic girl she used to be tiptoeing to the forefront. “There are so many options and variations, and yet, each bride always manages to pick the perfect combination for herself. You can see how amazing she feels, too, not only about the dress and the setting but committing to the one special person who loves her inside and out.”
Oops. Violet had gotten caught up in the dozens of ceremonies she’d witnessed in person, through her camera lens, and on the pages of magazines, momentarily forgetting that she was no longer obsessed with planning the perfect wedding.
She’d given that up. Now she was on the aisleless straight and narrow. A single pringle for life.
The string of pink pearls Lexi clutched paired perfectly with her aquamarine dress. “Praise the Lawd, someone who actually gets it. Seriously, I love you…” She scrunched up her eyebrows. “Violet, was it?”
Based on Ford’s fidgeting, Violet had scared him with her passionate spiel. Had he scooted away from her, or was that her imagination? Either way, spooking him would only be beneficial when it came to her no-guy decree.
So instead of diminishing what she’d already said, she thought of the four-page spread of wedding cakes in her binder. “Yes, and I think I can help even more.” The least she could do was lend a hand, since Lexi was practically planning the event solo. “Do you want the cake to be one texture or different textures for each tier? What about a topper? Lately I’ve been digging floral bouquets with flowers cascading down to the bottom. What flowers have you chosen?”
