7. Bailey

"Thanks for the Peterson referral."Sadie beamed as she grabbed one of her Sadie Special cupcakes and two cinnamon rolls and placed them in the pink box.

"Of course!" I told her. "I can't wait to see what you come up with."

The Sweet Temptations bakery was across the street from the bridal shop and was on our preferred vendor list. Billie, Birdie, and I always sang Sadie's praises to all of our clients. Jolie Peterson wanted to go the untraditional wedding cake route and have a cupcake tower, which we knew Sadie would dominate, because cupcakes were her specialty.

And the referrals weren't a one-way street. Sadie had sent quite a lot of business our way as well. Especially since she got engaged to San Francisco's Most Eligible Bachelor a couple of years ago.

"How are things going with my dad and Mrs. G?" she asked as she filled a to-go cup with piping hot coffee.

"Good." One of the referrals Sadie had given us was her father's upcoming nuptials to his long-lost love. The two had not seen each other for over forty years before reuniting unexpectedly.

"Is my dad giving you a hard time? He seems intimidating, but I promise he's a teddy bear."

I understood where her concerns might stem from. Tom Burke had spent the majority of his adult life as a police officer in Boston; he retired as a homicide detective. He was not a man I would ever want to be on the wrong side of.

"All he cares about is making Mrs. G happy."

A huge grin spread on Sadie's face. "Good, I'm glad."

Mr. Burke and Mrs. G's story was one of the reasons I loved my job—also one of the reasons my job was probably very detrimental to my personal life. Hearing stories, day after day, of how people met, fell in love, and decided to spend their lives together reinforced all of my hopeless romantic delusions. I wanted my fairytale. And the only prince I'd ever imagined was Simon.

Which was why the dream I had last night was so unnerving. It was a recurring scene that often came to life when I was sound asleep. I was in my grandma's backyard, and there were string lights hanging from the large oak trees. A band was playing Frankie Valli's "Can't Take My Eyes Off You" and I was dancing with my husband.

Except this time, when I looked up to gaze into the eyes of my groom, blue eyes stared back at me, not brown. And not just any blue eyes—they were the blue eyes that belonged to Cole. Ten minutes and one sneeze in the bathroom with him, and my subconscious had recast Simon. My leading man was now Cole…whatever his last name was.

"That's eleven eighty-three," Sadie said as she slid the box of donuts and coffee across the counter.

"How are the babies?" I asked as I tapped my debit card against the reader.

"Good. They're getting so big."

"I bet."

When Sadie opened this shop, she was the age I am now, single, and on a dating sabbatical. She'd sworn off men completely. Not even a year later, she got engaged to San Francisco's Most Eligible Bachelor and now had not one, but two, of his babies.

It just showed that God, the universe, karma, whatever you believed in, had their own plans for your life. I just wished mine would include my happily-ever-after.

"Thanks." I grabbed the box and coffee, and I headed out and crossed the street to Bliss Bridal Boutique.

The morning sun shimmered over the bay as I sipped on my coffee. The water reminded me of the color of Cole's eyes. The eyes I'd seen in my dream last night.

It had been a week since our brief lock-in, and in that time, I'd thought about him so much more than was healthy. The ratio of time I'd spent thinking of him against the time we'd actually spent together was probably a hundred to one. Maybe not quite that bad, but it wasn't good.

And if I wasn't thinking about Cole, I was checking my phone incessantly to see if I'd missed a call or text from Simon. I hadn't. The last time he'd tried to contact me was when I was in the bathroom with Cole, and I hadn't taken it. Since then, nothing. Nada. Not even an email.

As I unlocked the glass door to the shop, I wondered if I was in the wrong business to find a man. All the men I met were engaged. The ones I met in the industry all seemed to be married or in long-term commitments.

Billie never seemed to have a problem finding dates. She had a much more active social life than either Birdie or me, but her relationships never lasted past the six-month point. You could almost set your watch by it.

Birdie had been with her fiancé, Dylan Spade, for a little over ten years. He was the lead singer of the band Chaos Collective and had toured nonstop since they met. Their wedding was set for the following summer. He always said that he'd slow down after they got married, promising to spend at least six months out of the year with Birdie so they could build a family, but I would believe that when I saw it. From what I'd witnessed, Dylan only did things that made Dylan happy. Other people's needs or wants didn't really register for him.

Sounds familiar. Billie's voice stated flatly in my head.

I knew that my inner voice, which sounded like my older sister, was trying to say that Simon was also that way. And she might be right. I needed to stop wasting time thinking about him. Maybe it was time for me to try and date again. If my reaction to Cole was any indication, it was clear I was ready.

I'd heard people complain about the dating pool getting smaller the older you get. I didn't want to believe that in my mid-thirties, all the good men were taken. Sadie had found one. Olivia had found one. I met people all the time who found their soulmates in their thirties, forties, fifties, sixties, seventies, and even eighties.

Olivia and Trevor had been hounding me to let them set me up. I supposed I could do that, but I didn't want to. I didn't know if it was because I was a hopeless romantic or I was just old fashioned, but I didn't want to meet someone like that. I wanted a real life meet-cute. But maybe it was time to face the fact that my life was not a rom-com.

After setting down the box of baked goods I'd bought for our monthly meeting later this afternoon on the counter, I played the voice messages that were left over the weekend online.

"Oh no," I gasped when I heard the first one.

It was from Deborah, a bride whose wedding was a month away; she was calling to let us know that the wedding was canceled because she found out her sister was pregnant with her fiancé Cliff's child. The whole thing sounded like a storyline from a daytime soap opera.

As shocking as the news was, I couldn't say I was that surprised. Cliff had seemed wholly uninterested in any of the planning. He'd left the cake tasting early. He'd barely responded when Deborah asked him questions, and he was always on his phone. In all three appointments I'd had with them, he'd excused himself several times to take calls and was gone each of those times for at least twenty minutes.

I was about to message Deborah back, letting her know how sorry I was and that we were here if she needed anything, when the door opened. I must have forgotten to lock it. When Grandma Betty ran the shop, she'd relied on walk-in business. In fact, when Billie suggested we move to appointment-only, Grandma Betty had been upset. She thought we were going to run the business into the ground. But the opposite happened. Once we switched the business model, we were able to give brides an elevated, personalized experience. What we offered now was spread by word of mouth, and we were busier than ever.

A stunning brunette with a yoga mat under one arm and a Birkin bag that cost more than most people's cars over the other shoulder walked into the shop. The purse had a water bottle sticking out of it that was dripping down the side. Clearly, money was no object for her. When she lowered her oversized sunglasses, she revealed hazel eyes that complimented her dark hair perfectly. And her skin was flawless. So flawless, it almost seemed unreal. Like she was walking around with an IRL filter or something.

She was, in a word, stunning.

"Hi, do you have an appointment?"

"No, sorry. I was just walking in the neighborhood. I'm actually very newly engaged and haven't been to a bridal shop yet. Is it okay if I look around?"

If Billie were here, her answer would be to make an appointment and come back then. But that was the reason Birdie and I primarily dealt with brides.

I glanced around the shop to make sure it was presentable. We were in the process of switching out our summer décor to fall, which was on the docket to complete after our meeting. What had been a magic garden theme was going to transform into an autumn sunset. Right now, the shop looked bare. Its large white oak plank flooring and white walls were a blank canvas. Thankfully, the fairy lights that hung were all season, adding a little sparkle to the space.

"Sure. Just let me know if you need anything."

She smiled and held out her hand, not in the typical way someone would if they were offering it to shake. She went knuckles up as if she were presenting her ring for me to kiss, like she was royalty or a mob boss.

Actually, it wouldn't surprise me at all if she was. Not the mob boss, but if she were a princess, or duchess, or some other title ending in ‘ess' that indicated royalty; that would totally track.

"It's a beautiful ring," I observed. I wasn't just saying that. In my business, I saw a lot of rings, and hers was one of, if not the most beautiful, I'd ever seen.

"Thanks. Matty did good, right?"

"He did." I smiled.

"I'm Devin, by the way."

"Hi, Devin. I'm Bailey."

"Oh, I know who you are."

"You do?" I asked, wondering if maybe we'd met before. I did my best to remember all the people I met at weddings, but it was hard to keep all those faces and names straight. But since Devin was so striking, I was sure I would have remembered her if I had met her.

She nodded. "I've been stalking your Insta for years. I feel like I know you."

"Oh, right." She had to be talking about the boutique because my personal Instagram was private. And if she was referring to the boutique's page, I wondered if she hadn't just been ‘in the neighborhood' like she'd claimed.

Either way, I supposed it didn't matter. I'd already said that she could look around, and it had been a good reminder to me to always remember to lock the door behind me.

"Birdie is the one who usually handles bridal appointments. She's not in right now, but I'll try and answer any questions you may have."

"Actually, since I've got you. I'd love to hire you for my wedding. You're a wedding coordinator, right?"

"Yes, that's right. When is the date?"

"That's the thing." She smiled sweetly. "It's in one month. But I already have the venue. My friend owns a vineyard in Napa, and he's letting us have it for the entire weekend."

Nice friend.

"It's on the twenty-eighth."

"The twenty-eighth." I couldn't believe the date when I heard it. It was strange how things worked out. "We had a cancellation just this morning, so that date is available."

"Great! What do you need from me to lock it in?"

I grabbed the paperwork and walked her through our services and packages. She set up an appointment to come back and meet with Birdie the following week to find a dress. She mentioned that she modeled and had done a lot of bridal work, so she knew sample sizes fit her, and that she wouldn't need a lot of alterations.

When she left, I couldn't get over how strange it was that we'd just had a cancellation, and then she'd walked in. If she'd stopped by yesterday, we wouldn't have been able to help her. Things like that were why I believed in fate. In destiny. They fed into my overly optimistic self.

But even my typically glass-half-full outlook was starting to drain when it came to Simon after I checked my phone again and saw there were no missed calls or messages from him. If he were serious, he wouldn't have gone radio silent. It was time I faced facts; it was never going to happen. I needed to get off the emotional roller coaster. I didn't want to ride anymore.