Page 3 of Always a Bridesmaid
Maisy’s smile was a lot like her mother’s, but unlike the “smiles” Cheryl Hurst gave Violet, Maisy’s was genuine. “I’m so glad you’re here to help. When I first bought the place, I had to focus on updating the appliances. After that, I hardly had money for ingredients. Now I finally have the means to revamp the rest, but, thanks to my adorable baby, not the time. Plus, I’m no good at decor.”
“Yeah, I remember your childhood bedroom. It was like a color-blind person had decorated it.”
Maisy shoved Violet’s shoulder. “Hey.It wasn’t that bad.”
Violet huffed a laugh. “As someone who’s been trained in complementary colors, I can confidently say it was. You also had a poster of that caveman-esque dude with the big head, large nose, and oddly tiny mouth above your bed.”
The gasp Maisy made echoed off the wall. “It was aOne Tree Hillposter, and you must not’ve watched the show if you don’t understand the allure of Nathan Scott.”
“Ihave, and Lucas Scott was the better-looking brother by far.”
“Seriously? He has a squishy face. And he never fully opens his eyes.”
Violet started to argue but then slowly let her mouth close. “Fair point on that last part, but he had great hair. Besides, guys with the pale skin and dark hair combo aren’t my type.”
Maisy swept a chestnut strand that’d fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear. “You’d rule a guy out just because of that?”
While Violet had never accepted the Hurst last name, she didn’t have a choice about sharing the same dark reddish-brown shade as her father, half sister, and half brother. Whenever she visited, it was the trait that left the locals saying “Oh, you’ve got so much Hurst in you.”
As if that wasn’t a disturbing way to put it.
During her teenage years, she’d highlighted her hair uber-blond to avoid blending in to the family she’d never belonged to.
Sure, staying away from anyone semi-resembling her father was a flawed theory at best—one that hadn’t done a great job saving her from pain—but she clung to it anyway. Too many other things had changed in the last several months, and she craved the familiar. “I have a very precise system. Basically, I look at a guy, and if he’s a hot douchebag who strings me along for years and years, I decide he’s the one.”
Thanks to being based in reality, the joke didn’t quite land.
Before Maisy could send any pity her way, Violet swiped a hand through the air. She’d gotten good at pretending losing an entire decade of plans didn’t get to her. “Anyway, that was my old system, before swearing off men in general. Who needs ’em?”
“I do.” Maisy sighed, a dreamy lilt to her words when she added, “I just wish mine wasn’t so far away.”
Violet winced, and not only because the words pricked the spot over her heart. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me. I know how much you miss him, and Travis is one of the good ones.”
This time, it was Maisy who waved a hand through the air. “Not a big deal. I get what you mean.” She draped her arm around Violet’s shoulders and rested her head against hers. “I do hope that someday, when you meet the right person, you’ll change your mind.”
A nice sentiment, but when it came to the “right” person, Violet had decided it wasn’t in the cards for her, and most days, she was fine with that.
It wasn’t like getting married was her main goal in life. And in spite of what her ex or anyone else who’d been around her this past decade might think, her near-obsession with planning her own nuptials truly hadn’t been about the wedding.
Back when the photography muse was being kind, weddings had been her favorite jobs. They runneth over with emotion, and Violet had mastered the art of capturing unscripted moments: the father of the bride choking up as he no longer became the main man in his daughter’s life; grandparents reminiscing on the day they’d wed as they shared a dance; kids sneaking cake in their fancy clothes; and the bridesmaids laughing together, working to ensure the bride had the perfect day.
Then there were the vows.
Thatwas her very favorite part of weddings and what always made her cry. Declaring to everyone that you werechoosingthis person to spend your entire life with. Pledging to continue doing the little things that’d make them feel cherished.
Always and forever…The prick over her heart turned to a stab, one that reopened old wounds.
“Violet? You okay?”
Violet blinked, annoyed to find wetness clinging to her lashes. “Sorry. I’m so used to working in silence that I began mentally flipping through color schemes.”
Skepticism flitted through the tight press of Maisy’s mouth, but she was nice enough not to call her a liar, liar, wedding plans on fire.
“Does this mean my idea might work?” Maisy asked, a whole heap of hope in her voice.
During art school, Violet had dabbled in several mediums. The theory was that taking on a low-pressure job would get her creative juices flowing.
As the image of the renovated bakery took shape in Violet’s mind, the tingles she’d searched in vain for earlier flickered.
