Wedding Dreams by Debbie Macomber

Author:Debbie Macomber
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HQN Books
Published: 2016-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Nine

There is a difference between selling your ideas and selling yourself.

—Muriel Sterling, Knowing Who You Are:

One Woman’s Journey

With its art deco decor and a menu that featured Northwest-style specialties, Zelda’s restaurant was a hopping place when winter sports enthusiasts were in town, and locals couldn’t get in without a reservation. No reservations needed for tonight, though. It was a weekday and the tourists had been few and far between, thanks to the sparse snowfall. That, combined with a cold sleet falling outside, left the restaurant less than half-full with a couple of families and some couples taking advantage of the twofer coupon Charley had run in the Mountain Sun on Sunday.

The aroma of spices and seared beef greeted Samantha as she and her mother walked in the door. The sizzle of cooking meat from the open kitchen, where Charley’s new chef was hard at work creating culinary masterpieces, provided background music for the spurts of laughter coming from a table of three women, who had obviously gotten a head start on their drinking. Later they’d drift into the bar to meet up with local guys, but for now they were indulging in Zelda’s huckleberry martinis and shrimp tarts. Over by the window Samantha caught sight of Luke, their production manager, out on a date with his four-year-old daughter, Serena, who was finishing up a hot fudge sundae. He gave Samantha a smile and a wave.

Luke was a single dad, not by choice. His wife had been tragically killed two years earlier, hit by a car when she was out jogging. He was a nice man and a hard worker, one of many employees who depended on her company for his livelihood. She waved back, trying to ignore the weight of responsibility that was suddenly crushing her appetite.

A group whoop from the party girls made Mom frown. “I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this.”

“They’ll be gone soon,” Samantha said.

“It’s not them, it’s me. I’m not ready for socializing, sweetie. You entertain the men. I can walk home.”

She turned to leave, but Samantha laid a pleading hand on her arm. “Mom, please. It’s only for an hour. I really need your support.”

And she needed Mom to bat her eyes at Del so he’d want to get behind the festival. Pimping out her own mother. She was pathetic.

Ed was waving at her from a corner table. Next to him sat Del, looking downright eager. “Anyway, they’ve seen us,” she added. “It would be rude to leave.” Playing the courtesy card always worked with her mother.

Sure enough, Mom resigned herself to her fate with a sigh. “All right. But I don’t want to be here all night.”

Charley, taking the place of the hostess who’d been overly hospitable to Charley’s now-ex-husband, greeted them with menus in hand. “Ed and Del are already here. I’ve got you at a nice corner table where you can talk.” To Mom she said, “Good to see you, Mrs. Wittman.”

Mom managed a smile and murmured her thanks, and Charley led them to their table.

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