Page 46 of Reckless Chances
Chapter 17 – Emma
The door to Jenni’sapartment was painted a violet purple with a gold door knocker.
The second Emma stepped into Jenni’s apartment, she was overwhelmed with the smell of cinnamon and sugar. “Oh my.” Her mouth instantly started watering. Jenni lived above the Sugar Peaks Café and her entire place smelled like a Cinnabon, only ten million times better. “How are you not five million pounds?”
“I don’t even smell it anymore. Come in,” Jenni smiled. “Can I make you a cup of tea, or a coffee, or something stronger?”
Emma sat down on Jenni’s white sofa. “Got any whiskey?”
“I think I do.” Jenni turned and disappeared around the corner.
“I was joking,” Emma shouted.
Jenni peeked from the kitchen. “I have some wine samples that I have to taste. Want to help me with that? It’s totally work-related.” She didn’t wait for Emma to respond, she returned to the boho style living room clutching three bottles of white wine to her silky tank top.
“I shouldn’t,” Emma said.
Jenni pulled two mismatched wine glasses from a shabby chic cabinet that also housed half a dozen worn looking quilts and set them on the coffee table. She pulled the cork from a bottle that had been previously opened and wordlessly poured two glasses. She raised her eyebrows at Emma. “I could really use your opinion.” She picked up the glass closest to her and raised it.
Emma picked up the glass, “Just one.” She smiled for the first time in days. The past week had been one of the most emotionally draining one of her life, second only to the one six months ago when she discovered Adam and Alison’s betrayal. There were a few odds and ends to sort out, but the flower shop was done, and she was gearing up for her big grand opening. She should’ve been excited, but even this morning, when the Flower Girl sign was revealed and affixed to the front of her store, she was filled with a mixture of emotions: pride, fear, and when she saw Charlie standing and watching, his blue eyes following the crane and then meeting hers, she felt sadness. She wanted someone to share in moments like this with her. Someone who would slip their hand into hers and whisper into her ear that he was proud of her.
That morning Charlie had turned his back and walked away. She still had no idea why he had broken things off, and as much as she told herself she didn’t care. She did. Big time.
Three glasses of wine later, her cheeks were warm and rosy, and so were Jenni’s. The two of them had finished off the open bottle and had moved on to the California Sauvignon Blanc. “I like this one better.” Emma took a sip and clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth.
“Me too,” Jenni said. “Although, we probably should’ve started with the most expensive one. By the time we’re on the Chardonnay, it might as well be ginger ale.” She laughed and took another sip. The two had migrated from the sofa and vintage wingback chair to the floor in front of the coffee table where they perused bridal magazines and shared opinions. Emma’s taste was more classic, where Jenni’s was shabby chic. “You don’t worry that a macramé arbor is going to look too dated in ten years?” Emma pointed to the photo they were admiring, a wooden arbor covered in dahlias, a curtain of macramé rope seemed to wave lazily in a warm Caribbean breeze.
“Anything is going to look dated in ten years,” Jenni said. “Remember Princess Di’s sleeves?” Everyone in the eighties had those. “My mom even wore a hat.”
“Oh, the eighties.” Emma smiled. “Baby’s breath and spiral perms.”
A drop of condensation from Jenni’s wine glass fell on the image and Emma wiped it away with her sleeve.
“I am a wedding planner, but if I ever find a decent man, I’d be happy with going to city hall.” There was a hint of sadness in Jenni’s voice.
“What do you mean? When you find a decent man? You’re still so young – there’s plenty of men out there.”
“In Chance Rapids?” Jenni shook her head. “You know what they say about Rapidian men, don’t you?” She hopped up from the floor and returned to her spot with a bowl of potato chips in hand.
Emma plucked a large chip from the bowl and took a bite. She shook her head.
“Well,” Emma crunched a chip and then washed it down with some wine. “Your odds are good, but the good ones are odd.”
“What does that even mean?” Emma furrowed her brow.
“They’re all boys. I mean, even the fifty-year-old men care more about their bicycles and powder days than they do about having a steady girlfriend. Yeah, there are lots of hot guys here – you haven’t been here in winter yet, have you? I mean, the ski patrollers, there’s something about a man in uniform...” Jenni’s voice faded out and she seemed to be thinking about some mountain man.
Emma snapped her salty fingers in front of Jenni’s face. “Earth to Jenni.”
“Sorry,” Jenni smiled, her cheeks pink. “I was just thinking about this guy I met last winter. He’s supposed to be coming back in the fall.”
Emma nodded. In some ways, Jenni seemed mature beyond her years, and in others, like a lovesick senior, doodling some guy’s last name after hers. “Well, maybe I’ll turn into one of those guys. I’m just going to focus on my business and getting some good hiking boots. Maybe I’ll even take up biking. And skiing, or snowboarding.” The wine was starting to go to Emma’s head. “I’m going to forget about men completely.”
Jenni snort laughed and choked on her wine. “The whole Peter Pan thing only works if you’re a dude.” She pounded her fist on her chest.
“Well, maybe it’s time to change that.”
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I could give up men cold turkey. I’m just taking a break.” Jenni finished her glass of wine and poured another.
