Always the Baker, Never the Bride (18 page)

She groaned again, then she nodded unconvincingly. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” As she pulled away from him, Emma looked up at Jackson and brightened. “Hey, can I go find Miguel for you?”

Jackson planted his hands on her shoulders and braced her before him with a grimace. “That was just mean.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” she surrendered. “You just make it too easy.”

He patted her shoulders before releasing her and heading for the door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Oh right,” she said. “At dinner.”

He turned back and tilted his head. “Dinner?”

“Oh yeah, buddy. We’re
aaaaall
invited to your sister’s house. Won’t that be special?”

Jackson opened the door. “I’m concerned about you, Emma Rae,” he said with his back to her. “The pleasure you find in taking down the people around you isn’t healthy.”

“I know.”

“You should get therapy for that.”

“Maybe your nephew does counseling,” she exclaimed. “We could get a group rate. Want to go find him and talk to him about that right now?”

Jackson didn’t look back at her, so she didn’t get to see the grin spread across his face. It wasn’t lost on him either, the way Emma was able to amuse him that way. The muscles in his face actually ached a little from the uncharacteristic action they were getting.

“I’ll bet he’s still here,” she added. “I could go and have a look around.”

Jackson shook his head and stepped through the doorway.

“See you at seven!” she called after him. “Don’t be late. You don’t want to miss the floor show.”

Adorable
, he thought as he closed the door behind him.
Somewhat neurotic. And unbelievably adorable.

Five Effective Ways for a Bride to Eliminate Wedding Day Stress

1. Plan an extra hour into her morning for soft music, a pot of tea, and quiet time to prepare for the day ahead.
   
2. Write in her journal, citing all of the things for which she is grateful.
   
3. Meditate on the things that matter. She should spend some time sitting quietly, putting all thoughts of cakes, flowers, and centerpieces aside in order to think about her goal of committing to the person she loves.
   
4. Take a warm bath. Fragrances such as lavender, sandalwood, and citrus are soothing aromas which bring about relaxation.
   
5. Have a nutritious breakfast. Include more protein than carbohydrates, and drink an extra glass of cool, clear water with the meal.
   

11

E
mma Rae Travis, let me look at you.”

Avery rested one hand on her hip, and the other covered her heart as she smiled in that elegant way she had about her, a mixture of appreciation with unmistakable traces of pride in a job well done. Her ivory skin was flawless, from the curve of her oval chin to the slight widow’s peak at the top of her forehead. She always looked a little like a silhouette on a cameo to Emma, with her raven hair combed smoothly back into a perfect bun, just a few stray wisps curling at the back of her neck and in front of her ears.

“You’re just lovely, darling.”

“You act like it’s been years since you’ve laid eyes on me,” Emma teased. Stepping toward her mother, she wrapped her arms around her and kissed her cheek. “It’s only been a couple of months.”

Avery reached out and freed the hair Emma had tucked behind her ear. “It feels like years. But look at you, with a prestigious new job in this lovely hotel; a kitchen all your own. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

A gasp turned their attention to the doorway of the kitchen, where Georgiann stood planted, her hand over her mouth.

“This is your mother?”

Emma’s heart dropped an inch or two. “Yes. Mother, I’d like you to meet Georgiann Markinson. Georgiann’s brother is my boss, Jackson Drake.”

Georgiann scurried across the kitchen, closing the gap between them, and gently took Avery’s hand. “Avery Buffington Travis. It’s such a pleasure to meet you at last.”

“Why, thank you so much, Mrs. Markinson.”

“Georgiann, please. It’s just a thrill.”

“And you will call me Avery.”

Georgiann beamed as if she’d just been presented to the queen.

“Well,” Emma began, drumming her fingers on her hip, striving to gain control before it completely eluded her.

“I’ve been to the Hoyte Museum in Savannah. Your tireless efforts toward the restoration work there was inspiring. Just inspiring.”

Avery’s smile ignited like a gas flame turned to High. “Ah, a woman of culture,” she surmised. “You have a taste for the arts, then.”

“Indeed! In fact, I’ve used your work in Savannah as a blueprint in my effort to help restore The Grayden here in Atlanta.”

“The Grayden!” Avery exclaimed. “I saw my first ballet at The Grayden Theater. Are you familiar with the Atlanta Women’s Preservation Guild?”

“I’ve served on the board for the last six years.”

Avery took Georgiann’s arm and led her toward the door of the kitchen. “You must tell me all about it. I was elected president of the guild in 1997.”

“Oh, yes, I know.”

Emma just stood there and watched them disappear as the kitchen door flapped behind them. After a moment, she lifted her head and looked at the ceiling.

“Really, God?” she remarked. “Seriously?”

After two deep breaths and a stretch of her neck, Emma proceeded through the kitchen door.

“You must come!” Georgiann exclaimed just as Emma reached them.

“I’d be delighted,” Avery replied, and then she turned to Emma with a meaningful grin. “Georgiann has just invited me to join all of you for dinner tonight at her sister’s home.”

“Oh.” Emma’s mouth went completely dry. “No.” She cleared her throat, and then bit the corner of her lower lip. “That’s not really … No.”

“No?” One of Avery’s eyebrows formed a perfect raised arch.

“No, Mother. The thing is … the fact of the matter is …”

“Emma Rae, if you don’t want me included on your dinner with your friends, just say so. I can easily drive out to Brookhaven and fend for myself this evening.”

“No, it’s not that, Mother.”

“Then what is it? Georgiann has extended a perfectly lovely invitation and, if you don’t want me to accept, you’ll have to give me a reason.”

Emma shifted all of her weight to one hip, lowered her head and tucked her hair behind one ear. When she looked up again, both Avery and Georgiann were staring her down.

“It’s Daddy.”

“Gavin? What about him?”

“Well, he’s in town.”

“What is
that man
doing in Atlanta?” she asked, as if the divorce decree had only allowed him access to the portions of the country that were north and east of Georgia.

“He wanted to surprise me.”

“Your father never could comprehend the discourtesy of surprising a woman on a whim.”

Emma cleared her throat again. “Well, the truth is … Georgiann’s sister, Norma, invited Dad to be her houseguest.”

“I see.”

“And the dinner is sort of … he’s kind of …”

“The guest of honor,” Avery finished for her.

“Yes.”

“I see.”

Emma didn’t like it when Avery went quiet that way. She shifted to one leg, and then the other. “But you know—”

“Your father is so fond of surprises,” Avery interrupted. “What do you say we give him one tonight?” Emma’s heart palpitated. “What would surprise him more than you showing up for dinner with me on your arm?”

“Oh, Mother, I don’t—”

“What a wonderful idea!” Georgiann exclaimed. “I was just about to head over there myself. Avery, why don’t you ride with me, and Emma can follow in her little toy car.”

And before the tornado siren in Emma’s head could sound the alarm of approaching disaster, Avery had kissed her daughter on the cheek and crossed through the lobby with Georgiann.

“There’s my Princess!” Gavin exclaimed as Norma escorted Emma into the parlor.

“Hi, Daddy.” She kissed his rough cheek and squeezed his arm.

“Your father has been regaling us with tales of life in our nation’s capitol!” Norma announced. “He’s quite the business tycoon, your father.”

Emma nodded, then glanced around the room to make sure she hadn’t just missed Georgiann’s car out in the drive.

“What do you have there, Emma?”

“Oh!” She’d almost forgotten that she had brought something along for dessert. “I’ve been experimenting with a new recipe, and I think this batch turned out very well. I’m calling them Mocha Latte Cookies; they’re dipped in chocolate. I thought you might like to have them for dessert, or perhaps just keep them around for another time.”

Norma peeked into the open box and swooned. “I don’t know how you do it, Emma. They’re just beautiful. I’ll have Harriet put them on a tray to serve with coffee after dinner.”

Emma handed over the white box and moved toward her father. “Dad, there’s something I need to tell you,” she whispered under the guise of an embrace.

“What is it, Emmy?” he asked her, and his brown eyes sparkled at her as he ran a hand over the dark gold and silver-streaked hairline that had receded more than an inch since the last time he’d come to town.

“I didn’t plan this. I mean, I didn’t even know she was—”

“Greetings, Gavin.” Her mother’s smooth, low voice sliced Emma’s warning right into pieces.

Gavin’s face glazed over, and he looked down at Emma and groaned. Under his breath, in his signature gravel-and-molasses tone, he muttered, “Hide the women and children.”

“I’d like you all to meet Emma’s mother, Avery Travis,” Georgiann announced. “Avery, this is my sister Norma, her husband Louis, our other sister Madeline, and Jackson’s longtime assistant Susannah.”

Avery spread her greetings around the room, and then landed back on Norma. “I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to join your festivities.”

“We’re happy to have you.”

Gavin took a step back when her gaze found its way to him, and Emma bristled.

“No need to stand guard, darling,” Avery told her. “Your father and I are civilized Southern people.” With a sassy little grin, she added, “Oh wait. That’s just me.” Moving toward him, she took his hand. “How are you, Gavin?”