Chapter 1
I love weddings.
I adore them, actually.
I love this wedding. I love my best friend like a sister. And I’ve even grown to like Mariana’s fiancé, Terry, though I still preferred to call him Mr. Pinecone. Probably because I’ll never forget the ridiculous costume he was wearing when we met.
I mean, her husband. Mariana was no longer engaged. She was married. Wedded. Stuck with Terry forever.
But as she took a sip of champagne and flashed a brilliant smile at the love of her life, I knew that “stuck” was the furthest thing from her mind. She’d never looked more beautiful, and it wasn’t only because of her shimmery white strapless dress or the sparkly yet classy jewels she wore. It was because she’d found the one. Between Mari and me, I’d always been the romantic, and she teased me about my obsession with rom-com movies and Valentine’s Day.
But to see her now ... she was happy. Deliriously so.
And I … well, I was happy for her—happy my best friend was finally living her life with joy and love and all the things denied to her for so long. Happy she was married on Christmas Eve, her favorite day in the world.
I was happy for her. Truly.
But you’re not happy.
I flinched at the unbidden thought and quickly downed the rest of my champagne.
I scanned the scene before us. The wedding party was small, so it was just the four of us at the head table in the reception hall. However, the guests numbered in the hundreds. One would expect a highly private person like Mari to insist on a small wedding. But she wanted to invite all her staff at the resort, and Terry knew everyone in town, so basically everyone in our little town of Shipsvold was present. I made eye contact with Nora, who was not only Terry’s grandmother but also one of my favorite people. She winked, and once again, I arranged my features in what I hoped was a genuine smile before my eyes continued sweeping the cavernous room.
Still, it was lonely up here. And I was thirsty.
“Hey, Mari,” I said while patting her bare shoulder gently. “I’ll be right back, OK?”
With her hand still holding Terry’s on the table, she turned her head toward me, offering a wide smile that slid right off her face when she eyed me. “Is everything OK, Haz?”
Since when was Mari so good at reading people? Maybe she had always been good at this. I was usually easy to read. Usually happy. Laid back. Taking life a day at a time. That’s me. Easygoing Hazel.
But I only laughed. “It’s not OK. It’s wonderful. I’m just thirsty.”
Her eyebrows rose ever so slightly, and she stared into my eyes for a moment. “All right,” she said slowly, watching as I placed my napkin on the table and stood up.
I gave her a wide smile before turning toward the bar, and my face fell.
Ugh, not that guy.
Standing at the bar was the impeccably groomed—and, I have to admit, hot as hell—man I’d walked down the aisle with earlier today. I’d been introduced to Peter Auclair last night when he flew in for the wedding rehearsal, but he’d not spoken a word to me after that initial “Nice to meet you, Ms. Tanaka-Katz.” My nervous chatter and laughs just before the ceremony were met with a tight jaw and a blank stare. I even felt his biceps tense up when we linked arms down the aisle.
I sauntered up to the bar and pulled out the bar stool nearest to him. After carefully arranging the flowy layers of my pale green bridesmaid dress in front of me, I sat down. He stilled but didn’t turn to look at me.
“What can I get you, ma’am?”
I tried not to glare at the barely-legal kid who just ma’am-ed me. Was he even old enough to tend bar? “Uh, yeah, I’d like some more champ—actually, you know what? I’d like a shot. Maybe a few. Do you have any of those fruit-flavored vodkas?
The kid nodded, pointing behind him to his left. I scanned the shelf. “Oh, is that purple one grape? I want that.”
“Purple vodka, coming right up,” he said, spinning around to make my shot.
I stole a glance at the silent man next to me and opened my mouth to speak, but then the kid was back already with a shot glass of my favorite drink.
I downed it quickly and pointed at the empty glass before looking at the boy. “Keep them coming, please.”
The kid gave me a side-eye glance but poured another.
I decided to just sip this one. Yes, drunken oblivion sounded appealing right about now, but I doubt Mari would be happy if I returned to her table smashed.
I moaned, loving the sweetness on my tongue. “Just what I needed.”
Peter finally looked over at me then, but only briefly, his lips tight and eyes revealing nothing.
Screw this. “Um, hello?” Facing him, I took another sip.
A lengthy sigh escaped his mouth as he turned toward me, still leaning against the bar. “Hello,” he said in his deep baritone.
“Do you remember me? I’m—”
“I do.”
I cracked a real smile. “We’re not getting married, man. I’m just saying hello.”
His brows were furrowed as he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came for a long moment. Finally, his mask of indifference returned. “Excuse me?”
My smile faltered. “You said, ‘I do’—you know, like in a wedding …” I trailed off, seeing that he didn’t find this amusing at all. It was funny, wasn’t it? Or was I already drunk? “Never mind.”
He said nothing but held eye contact for a long time. Finally, he spoke again. “Can I help you with something—”
I put my hands up in the universal symbol for stop as I winced. “Please don’t ma’am me. Once was enough. My vanity is already crushed. I’m not even thirty yet, or at least not until New Year's Eve. Yeah, would you believe I was born on that day, of all days? But I didn’t even get the honor of being the last baby born in the hospital that day. It was some jerk named Preston.” I shook my head. “Can you believe it?”
His brows furrowed again, but only for a split second. “I do believe you just called a baby a jerk.”
“Well, he was! I mean, with a name like Preston, he has to be, right?”
His face was devoid of expression as he shook his head. “If you say so.”
“Well, I do.” I giggled. “There, now I did it too. I said, ‘I do.’ Well, good thing that boy over there’s just a bartender and not an ordained minister. Or else you’d have just found yourself married to this hot mess.” I waved my hand up and down once with a self-deprecating smile.
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
I stared ahead at the gleaming countertop. “So, you want to know why I’m a hot mess?” I didn’t turn to look, afraid he’d be shaking his head no. Because I needed to vent. He was probably the worst choice in terms of people to vent to, but, well, he was here. Alone, just like me. Well, presumably alone. I didn’t see anyone with him earlier, and he wasn’t wearing a wedding band.
“Well, where do I even begin?” I sighed. “My best friend—my only close friend, really—just got married today, and don’t get me wrong … it was a beautiful ceremony, and she was gorgeous. I’m super happy for her, but I’m going to miss the two-single-ladies thing we had going on. Well, maybe we never had that going on exactly—she never liked to party. But anyway, yeah. Pinecone’s a good guy. You know that, I guess, since you’re his BFF. I didn’t know that at first. You see, he had ghosted her like a decade ago, and when they met up again, he was kind of an ass. No, not kind of. He was awful. But it turns out he didn’t ghost her, and his evil sister—you know what, never mind. That part’s not important.” I paused, taking a sip of the newly filled shot placed in front of me. Then I narrowed my eyes while scanning his face. “Or wait, maybe you knew all that? You guys are close, I suppose.”
His nod was barely perceptible, but I took it as fuel to keep going.
“But I’m happy for them because I’m all about romance, happily ever afters—there’s not a rom-com you could name that I wouldn’t have seen already.” I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “But you probably can’t name a lot of rom-coms, can you, Pete? You’re not that kind of guy.” I downed the rest of the shot and waved at the bartender again.
“It’s Peter.”
“What—oh. Not Pete. Got it. That’s too bad, as I like the name Pete.” It was my maternal grandfather’s name, after all. He was my favorite person, and he’d died when I was in high school. I felt my throat get tight while thinking of the only grandfather I’d ever known. The best one a girl could have. Well, I met my Japanese grandfather as a toddler, but I can’t muster any memory of it. Dad said it was probably for the best. I sighed, thinking of how much I missed my family this year.
“Do you have family you usually celebrate Christmas with?” I looked at him closely, but he only shook his head quickly. “Ah, that’s … well, I guess it’s sad for most people, but you don’t look sad.” I thought I detected a tightening of his jaw then, but it came and went so fast that I couldn’t be sure. “Well, I usually do see my family, but this year I can’t. Do you want to know why?” I didn’t wait for an answer, knowing he likely wouldn’t give one anyway. “Because I’m always visiting them. I always travel to see my mom in Paris or wherever she is, or I go to Japan to see Dad, sometimes my sister. The one time I couldn’t travel, I hoped they’d come visit. But did they? Nope.”
Tears pooled in my eyes, and I willed them to not fall. I never trusted waterproof mascara. “It’s fine. I mean, it sucks. But I’m used to it. Used to being alone. So it’s weird, right? I’m the biggest romantic I know. Like, Valentine’s Day is one of my favorite holidays; I’m basically in love with love. Yet my love life is so bad. Either the dates are bad, or the relationships don’t last long. Don’t get me wrong, I date a lot. A lot. But I can’t find someone who—” I stopped, seeing his face. This time his jaw definitely tightened, and the muscle in his cheek contracted. “OK, I’ll stop. I don’t mind being single that much, but it’s harder around the holidays, you know?” I eyed him again. He probably didn’t know. A guy that attractive would have an active dating life if he wasn’t already in a serious relationship. My throat tightened as I considered that. What if he was?
Beyond awkward, that’s what.
Change the subject, Hazel.
I flipped my hair over my shoulder. I’d planned to wear an updo, but Mari had reminded me my long, silky black hair was one of my best assets, so I went with a natural look. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this because I haven’t told anyone else yet, but … I need to change careers. I’m tired of doing what I’m doing. Tired of … being tired. From work. From the emotional labor I draw upon day in and day out as I travel around the country, sometimes around the world.” I paused, frowning when I noticed my shot glass was still empty. “If they didn’t tell you, I’m sort of a motivational speaker. I do a lot of events at Mari’s resort, but I also travel and do events all over. I’m good at it, but … I want something else. I want to spend more time writing, maybe helping people one on one. The constant travel … well, let’s just say I’ve had a lifetime of it already, and it’s enough. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want to settle down. Stay in one place. Maybe? It’s such a foreign idea to me. I spent so many years—”
He cleared his throat, and I gazed at him in confusion.
I’d almost forgotten he was there.
“Sorry, was I rambling?” I laughed nervously. “I tend to do that. At least when I’ve had alcohol.” I sighed, seeing no response on his beautiful face. “That’s probably something I should change too. No more drinking.”
He raised one eyebrow then, the most expressive thing I’d seen from him so far.
“I mean, after tonight. Or … maybe after New Year’s Eve? Yes, it’ll be my New Year’s resolution. And then changing jobs.”
I bit my lip, considering another idea. “Maybe I’ll take a break from dating too. Or is that too many resolutions? It’s hard to make a lot of changes at once.” I looked at him for an answer, for some reason, though I knew he wouldn’t supply one. “Well, why not? Doesn’t hurt to try, does it?” I offered a small smile.
After a long moment of silence, his deep voice rumbled out of his chest, as though he rarely used it. “Are you done?”
I blinked a few times quickly. Am I done? Was he really asking me—
One look at his frown, and I knew. He wanted me to shut up.
And in the morning, I’d wish I had.
