A Vineyard Thanksgiving (The Vineyard Sunset Series Book 4) by Katie Winters

Author:Katie Winters [Winters, Katie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Women's Fiction, contemporary fiction, sisters fiction, Clean & Wholesome Romance, family fiction sagas, holiday fiction
Publisher: Katie Winters
Published: 2020-10-05T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Charlotte hadn’t slept a wink.

She now found herself running on coffee and Diet Coke fumes, buzzing alongside the world-famous Ursula Pennington as they cut toward the ballroom. Ursula’s topics of conversation ranged from, “I really had a lot of ideas for the wedding while in Sicily. It’s too bad we have so much of it nailed down already,” to, “I really wish you would have told me this mansion was so small. It really puts a wrench in our plans,” to, “Do you think the snow is too much? Some people say it’s too elaborate,” to, “I didn’t realize you were so pretty, Charlotte. I mean, for how old you are.”

Charlotte already wanted to pull every single hair out of her head.

When they appeared in the ballroom, Charlotte was grateful that everyone had gone to their designated positions for the evening. Even the string quintet had set up near the Christmas tree and begun to play. They were certainly just as good as they’d advertised themselves to be. As Harvard grads, they better be.

Ursula walked slowly through the tables, analyzing the expensive china, the flowers, the Christmas tree itself, the fountain and the sculpture toward the far end of the ballroom. She smirked, but her smile didn’t extend past her face. Slowly, her friends and entourage began to stream into the ballroom after her. Servers cut out from the side doors, armed with trays filled with drinks—a fancy cocktail that Charlotte had invented for Ursula and Orion’s rehearsal dinner.

“Charlotte. May I speak with you for a moment? In private,” Ursula said, loud enough for several of her friends to hear.

Here we go.

“Right this way,” Charlotte said brightly. She led Ursula through a double-wide set of doors toward the east, which led into a little arena she’d set aside for women with wardrobe malfunctions and sore feet. The place was parlor-like, with antique furniture, old-world paintings, and a gorgeous golden statue of a peacock.

Ursula collapsed in a heap on an antique fainting couch, which seemed fitting.

Charlotte remained standing.

“Charlotte, Charlotte, darling,” Ursula said. She puckered her overly bright red lips together and made a little, horrible noise. “I don’t know what I was thinking, assuming you could put together exactly what I wanted in only a few weeks.”

Neither do I.

“In any case, I mean, it’s absolutely fine...” Ursula said, furrowing her brow. “Only that, I noticed you didn’t take my flower specifications to heart? What do you mean by this?”

Charlotte remembered a number of “recommendations” from Ursula regarding flowers. The girl had changed her mind so many times that Charlotte had grown dizzy.

“My sister is the florist involved in the wedding,” Charlotte said. She kept her voice up, chipper. “Would you like me to get her so that we can discuss this in better detail?”

“I don’t see that that’s necessary. In my mind, you’re the wedding planner. Everything should have gone through you first,” Ursula said. She lifted her perfectly manicured nails and tapped them against her thumb. “I suppose when my friends ask me why everything isn’t absolutely stellar, I’ll have to report this to them.

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