I stood in the master bedroom of an old colonial-style house. The Stanton Estate was the only wedding location in town that wasn’t a church … or a barn. I watched as Minnie made a last-minute alteration to Janet’s wedding dress while Janet sat on a chair in her white silk robe. Minnie was sitting at the desk with her sewing kit and the classic white gown spread out before her. My fingers itched to do the alteration myself, because I would’ve been a lot faster. But instead I gripped the box that contained Janet’s bouquet and waited my turn.

“Are you giving Minnie a dirty look?” Micah whispered from next to me. She was also waiting her turn. She had a question to ask about the menu and we’d realized quickly that Janet couldn’t focus on more than one thing at a time. Considering the ceremony was supposed to start in less than two hours, I understood. But also, Minnie wouldn’t let us get a word in edgewise. She was talking and talking about whatever seemed to pop into her brain—the tractor that had been sitting on the side of Holiday Road for days, the graduation ceremony at the high school two weeks ago, how the Harris boy who’d received Mr. Washington’s scholarship was going to Alabama State, and how good of a football team they had.

“Yes, I am,” I said.

“She’s like seventy,” Micah said.

“There’s an age requirement for who I can give dirty looks to?”

“Yes. Besides. I thought you were over that.”

“She is the only person in town with any clothing-design experience and she wouldn’t give me a job. I will never be over it.”

Micah laughed, and then threw her hand over her mouth when Minnie looked back at her. “Sorry,” she said, and Minnie got back to work. Micah lowered her voice again. “She already has an employee who has worked there for a hundred years and it’s not like she does anything more than alterations. You can do those in your sleep.”

“I know … but it would’ve looked good on my applications.” I sighed. And I could’ve sat at a sewing machine all day instead of staring at flowers. I lifted the bouquet box. “It would’ve given me inspiration. I need inspiration.”

“Is your portfolio giving you issues? Maybe if it wasn’t a huge mess of jumbled pages and random pieces of trash, you’d have a freer mind.”

I gasped. “Trash? There is no trash in my notebook. And that’s how I work best. In chaos.”

“Sophie?” Janet said when Minnie paused in her talking. Janet was staring out the window into the backyard, where workers were scurrying about, preparing for the event. “I think it’s going to rain. It’s not supposed to rain. The sun is supposed to be setting, the heat is supposed to be evaporating, and this is supposed to be the perfect wedding day.”

“It’s not going to rain.” I was 70 percent sure of that. Or at least the weather app on my phone was. It claimed 30 percent chance of rain, but the sky wasn’t supporting that prediction. The sky looked straight out of a horror movie.

“We could use some rain,” Minnie said. “The heat is stifling. Last time it was this hot, there was a five-city-wide power outage and poor Mrs. Frieson, bless her heart, lost her entire fridge full of meat for her party.”

Janet’s eyes became panicked.

“The power is not going to go out. It’s not that hot,” I said. “And these overcast conditions will make for beautiful pictures.”

“But rain does not make for beautiful pictures. It makes for drippy, soggy, wet pictures.” Janet pointed to her hair. “These curls took two hours to perfect.”

“You look gorgeous.”

Minnie stood, hung the wedding dress up on the wardrobe door, and tucked her supplies back into her bag. “You’re all set.” With that she headed toward the door.

Micah elbowed me in the ribs; apparently I was still scowling.

“Nice to see you, Ms. Baker,” Micah sang.

“And you as well, ladies.” Minnie let herself out of the room.

I set the box I was holding on the white lace coverlet on the bed. Janet needed a major distraction and I was glad I had it.

“I have your bouquet!” I announced. I pulled it out of the box. Between thinking about the bouquet, being trained by Caroline, doing several practice versions, and finally picking out the best roses and placing each one perfectly into the foam holder, I had spent basically the entire month on it. I had added zero designs to my sketchbook in that time, but apparently I was an expert bouquet maker now.

Janet gasped. “Sophie! It’s like you knew exactly what I wanted when I didn’t even know.”

I had been cursing flowers all month but now I was relieved. “I’m happy you like it,” I said, meaning it. Janet’s expression made me smile.

“I do. I love it.”

“It’s really pretty, Soph,” Micah said.

Janet picked up the rose bouquet and cradled it in her arms. “People still save these, right? How do I save it? Put it in the freezer or something?”

“No, that’s what you do with the cake. This you can just hang upside down and let dry out.”

She raised the bouquet to her nose and inhaled. Her eyes fluttered closed and she let out a happy sigh. “It smells amazing. I just love roses. Don’t you?”

“Yes, they are nice.” I picked up the box. “Did you need anything else?”

“I need for the rain to stay away.”

“Do you want us to put the tents up?” I offered. “We brought the tents.”

“The tents are so intrusive. I want to see the stars tonight.”

“You’ll see the stars.”

She smiled her perfectly painted lips. “Will you send my mom in if you see her? She’s supposed to help me put on my dress.”

“She’s in the kitchen,” Micah said. “Talking to Jett.”

“Jett Hart,” Janet said. “Do you believe Jett Hart is catering my wedding?”

“Pretty unbelievable,” I was able to cough out with effort.

“I hope the food is good,” Janet said worriedly. “He talked me into this weird thin-cut, seasoned meat when I just wanted pulled pork on buns.”

“The food is amazing,” Micah said. “You’ll love it. And I just had one question for you …”

I squeezed Micah’s arm and went out into the hell. Several women in matching maroon dresses—bridesmaids, no doubt—poured out of the room across the hall and swept past me into Janet’s room.

I took the stairs and poked my head into the kitchen. Jett was at the stove, and sure enough, Mrs. Eller was on the other side of the counter. She was giving him a second-by-second accounting of the day.

“Mrs. Eller,” I said. “Your daughter is looking for you. She’s ready to put her dress on.”

“Oh! Yes, it’s time! Thanks, Mr. Hart!” She whirled around and flew by me.

Jett gave me a curt nod, like I had done that for his benefit. Of course he thought the world revolved around him.

I had basically given up on climbing out of the hole I’d somehow dug with him. If we were going to have a good working relationship, if he was going to see my worth at all, it would have to happen naturally. I still hoped it might, but I wasn’t counting on it. I couldn’t count on it.

I took a step back and let the kitchen door swing shut. I had plans before he came and they would still be the same after he left. I didn’t need him.

Minnie was right; outside felt like a sauna. The dark clouds hanging overhead had turned the air muggy. I questioned my own sanity at wearing a silk blouse. I should’ve gone with cotton. Understated was best for weddings, I’d learned. So I wore a pale pink top with a black skirt and black heels. I had been tempted to sew a ruffled flare to the bottom of my skirt, and my red heels had been calling my name, but I’d resisted. I hadn’t resisted the line of small pearls I’d sewn along the pocket of my blouse. But they were subtle. The only person people should be looking at today was Janet.

“Hey, Soph, where can I plug this in?” Kyle stood on a makeshift stage, holding the cord to his amp. Janet was Kyle’s cousin, so it shouldn’t have surprised me that he and his band were playing tonight. But his music was not wedding material at all.

I pointed. “There’s a power strip behind Bryce’s drums there.”

“Cool, thanks.” Kyle exuded rocker tonight in a pair of dark jeans and a white collared shirt with a thin black tie. His blond hair was getting longer and looked a bit greasy hanging in his eyes. He plugged in his amp and then did a few test chords on his guitar, tuning it as he did.

I wasn’t sure why I was lingering. Kyle and I had gone nowhere fast lately. We hadn’t moved forward but we hadn’t moved back, and it seemed like neither of us was willing to change that. “Do you have everything you need?” I asked.

He pushed his hair off his forehead. “Yeah, I think so.”

Bryce jumped up on the stage, slapping Kyle on the back. He held up his phone. “Tell me this isn’t the playlist.”

“We talked about this,” Kyle said. “It’s a wedding.”

“Did Janet give you this list? Do you have no dignity?”

“Do you want to sing about leaving the girl and living alone at a wedding?”

“Yes, yes I do,” Bryce said, moving over to his stool and adjusting its height.

“Me too,” Kyle said. “But it’s not happening.”

“Probably a good call,” I said.

Jodi and Lincoln came to join their bandmates on the stage, and I said hi to them. Just then, Micah, carrying a tray of salt shakers, and Lance, carrying a tray of pepper mills, walked past us.

Micah paused next to me while Lance continued walking. “What’s so interesting over here?” She wiggled her eyebrows at me, seeming to answer her own question.

“The cover songs that have to be played tonight,” I said.

“I love covers.”

Bryce curled his lip at her. “Take your blasphemous tongue away from me.”

“I’m going to make a couple requests tonight,” I said. “Maybe some Céline Dion, some Journey.”

Bryce hissed. Kyle smirked my way and I smiled back.

“So adorable,” Micah whispered. She was wrong. The weird standstill Kyle and I shared was not adorable.

“I need my other half!” Lance yelled from a table across the reception area. He held up a pepper mill.

“Where is he on your spreadsheet?” I asked. I knew the answer to that question. Micah and Lance had dated freshman year and had both decided to move on. She probably had a big red X through Lance’s name, even though I felt like they had both changed since then. But Micah was Micah; once she’d made up her mind and moved on, that was that.

“Funny,” Micah said, then left to join Lance.

I needed to go too. I had boutonnieres to pin before the ceremony started. “Good luck, guys,” I told Kyle and the band.

“We’re not taking requests tonight,” Bryce called out after me. I laughed.

I walked around the outside of the Stanton Estate and toward the gravel parking lot where the flower van waited. I collected the box with the boutonnieres and turned to head back when I saw someone standing by a black car. He was facing away from me, talking on his phone, but I could tell who he was by his posture alone. My gaze drifted to Andrew’s tuxedo and right away I knew we had a problem.