Chapter One
“Goddamn it.”
The key wouldn’t turn in the lock.
“Goddamn it,” Teddi muttered again under her breath—which she could see, thanks to the unseasonably cold October morning. She was so not ready for fall because fall meant winter and she hated winter, but fall was most certainly here and announcing its presence by freezing her fingertips.
And, apparently, the temperamental lock on the front door of her shop.
“Goddamn it.” She left the key in the lock and blew on her cold hands.
You’ve got to finesse it, Preston always told her. Be gentle. Coax it and it’ll open.
“Finesse it, my ass.” She turned the key again. Still stuck. As if to mock her, the wind kicked up, blowing her hair away from her ears, leaving them vulnerable to stupid October and stupid fall and goddamn it, why couldn’t something go right for her? Just once? “Okay. Okay. Fine. Finesse it is.” Teddi stepped back, set her shoulder bag down on the sidewalk. She shook out her arms, tipped her head from one side to the other, bounced on the balls of her feet like a boxer preparing to fight.
One big inhale.
One slow exhale.
Relax. Be gentle.
She stepped up to the door calmly, grasped the key, turned it.
Nothing.
“Goddamn it!” she yelled and stomped her foot. Actually stomped her foot, balled her hands into fists. Like she was five. She’d felt a little like that for the past two-years-plus, though. Angry. Toddler angry, like she couldn’t have what she wanted and the only way to make her frustration known was to stomp her feet. Maybe fall to the ground and roll around a little, pounding her fists and crying.
Teddi stood at the door and leaned forward enough to let her forehead drop against the glass in defeat.
“Are you manhandling the lock again?” The voice of Preston Lacosta, her assistant ever since she’d opened her business, was both a relief and a frustration. Relief because he’d get the damn lock to open. “What did I tell you about being gentle?” He let his coal-eyed gaze rest on her face, reached for the key, and turned the lock with no resistance whatsoever. “See?” Yeah, and frustration because he’d get the damn lock to open.
“I hate you.” Teddi picked up her bag and pushed through the door.
“You hate me because I’m beautiful,” Preston called out as he bustled through the shop and past the counter, not affected in the least by her foul mood. Probably because it came standard lately with Teddi, and Preston understood it, had almost become used to it. It wasn’t like she’d given him a choice. He told her over and over that time was the best thing for her, that eventually, she’d be back to her old fun, cheerful self. But it had been over two years and she was still…what was the right word? Angry. Yeah, that was it. Teddi was mad at the world. And Preston was a fixer, a problem solver, but she knew he wasn’t sure how to fix that for her. After all, she’d earned that anger fair and square. She could see it on his face often, though, that it squeezed his heart to see his friend so broken.
“You’re not wrong,” Teddi called back as she headed through the shop and to the rear where her office was, mentally counting to ten and forcing herself to chill the hell out. Preston didn’t deserve her snark. Nobody did. Well, that’s not exactly true. “Nope. Nope, not going there right now,” she said quietly into the empty office, then clicked the lights on, dropped her stuff onto the desk, and flopped down into her chair with the exhausted sigh of somebody who’d just walked several miles. Uphill. Carrying a bag of rocks.
It had become a ritual of sorts on those days that started off stressful, like today with the damn lock. She made a mental note to call a locksmith even as she began her breathing exercises, hoping to avoid a panic attack. She hadn’t had one in quite a while, not since her therapist had taught her that the best way to harness her anger and frustration, to keep it from eating her alive on a daily basis, was to control her breathing. Teddi was skeptical of something so simple—her feelings were certainly not simple. They were beyond complicated. They were a whirlwind, a jumble, a bowl of noodles all tangled up in each other. Surprisingly, though, the breathing exercises helped, so she did them. After a few moments, she felt better. Sorting her things—bag, snacks, phone, tablet—also helped, and by the time she was ready to walk back out into the shop and face the day with Preston, she felt almost like herself.
“What do we have today, kind sir,” she asked of Preston as she set her things down behind the counter. Preston was in the spot they called the Refreshment Corner, where the coffeemaker, the mini fridge, and all the snacks lived.
He doctored his coffee as he said, “First things first, I’m calling a locksmith. I’m worried I’m going to show up for work one day and there will be a Teddi-shaped hole in the glass.”
Teddi scrunched up her face and nodded. “Okay. But get a quote first, please? I don’t want to pay a million dollars.”
“Well, a million dollars for a new lock would certainly be extravagant.” He pulled a second cup of coffee out from under the drip, added cream and sugar, and carried both cups to the counter.
“Bless you, my child,” Teddi said, reaching for the mug with the giant yellow smiley face on it and holding it in both hands to warm up, ignoring the irony of the imprint. Preston’s mug shouted Fabulous! in bright rainbow lettering. She’d given it to him for Christmas last year, and he drank out of it every single day. “What else?”
Preston sipped his coffee as he scrolled on his tablet. The man was beautiful; Teddi had known him for nearly ten years and not one day had gone by when she hadn’t had that same thought: gorgeous. Right up there with Idris Elba, if her clients were to be believed. From his mahogany skin, which was smooth and blemish free because his skincare routine rivaled that of any woman Teddi had ever met, to his perfect dark hair cut in a fade, to his too-fit-to-be-fact body, he was an amazing specimen of the male figure. Damn gay men. Why are they always so much prettier than me? Teddi grimaced but wiped it back to a pleasant expression of curiosity when Preston looked up at her.
“I’ve got to meet the caterer with Johnson and then help Meyers with her bridal party dresses. You’ve got three meetings today with potentials.”
“Three?” Teddi felt her eyebrows rise up toward her hairline in pleasant surprise.
“Yep. Land ’em, would you?”
“I will.”
Preston turned his head her way, a brilliantly white smile cutting across his face. A genuine one, not the artificial one he used when he pretended to agree with a bride’s insistence on a hideous choice of fabric / color / flowers. “That.” He pointed at her. “That’s the Teddi Baker confidence I like to see. I’ve missed it.”
“Me, too,” Teddi said honestly. Seriously, the last twenty-five months—no, wait—the last three years, really, had just been brutal for her. And even though she still had moments like the lock on the front door, they were just that, moments. They were no longer hours or days or weeks. That was progress, right?
She sipped her coffee, tasted the deep richness, the sweet creaminess, and allowed herself to smile as she took in the shop before her.
Wedding planning was something she had sort of fallen into when her mad organizational skills had made her the go-to person to help first a college friend and then a cousin with planning their weddings. Before she knew it, they had told friends and relatives about how much Teddi had eased their minds and their workloads when it came to their nuptials, and all of a sudden, she was getting a dozen calls a month from strangers offering to pay her if she’d help them organize their weddings. She somehow managed to work her regular job at a print company and plan weddings on the side. The best part wasn’t even the money, though that was a definite bonus—it was that she enjoyed it. No, that was a lie. She loved it. She loved spreadsheets and phone contacts and the relationships she’d begun to develop with vendors. Teddi was made to run the show, to be in charge. It’s what she did best. Then one night, after finishing up her umpteenth wedding, she and her girlfriend at the time sat down with her father the CPA, and they hashed out a plan. Teddi would quit her job and open her own business.