AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I lift my eyes from my list, and my gaze ends up on someone from the Ferreri table picking up hors d’oeuvres from the platter set on their table. My eyes narrow in on Cesare Ferreri, Barbara’s sixty-something-year-old father in a black tux with a white inner shirt, his balding black hair ambushed by some strands of gray.
Cesare suavely takes a bite from what he is holding and drops the rest back on the platter before standing with the napkin in his hand to mingle with some guests.
I keep watching his every chewing move, waiting to see if he will give anything away. I need to know if he is satisfied with the food, my service, and the entire presentation.
I have seen Riley around, and she seems to be loving everything about it. Most people at the groom’s family table seem to love everything, albeit in their stiff way.
“You think he likes it?” Ruth whispers into my ear, and I flinch.
“Stop doing that,” I move a step away from her, steadying my heartbeat as best as possible. I’m jumpy, and she knows it.
“Sorry,” she smiles stiffly. “I’m sorry.” She lifts one hand as if making an oath, and I roll my eyes. She will do it again.
I nod and I turn my eyes away from glaring at her to resume my observation of Cesare.
“I will try,” she smiles. “But what do you think?” She closes the distance, making sure our shoulders brush against each other. “I think they are satisfied with the service, but I’m not sure about the food. They haven’t really started eating yet.”
I nod. “I agree,” I puff. I know I’m good at what I do, but sometimes, waiting for a client’s feedback can mess with your confidence. The hard part is understanding that some feedback has nothing to do with your service; it is just the client’s preference. “I think…” Ruth pockets her jotter in her cream jumpsuit. “I think Sofia likes it,” she nudges with her chin in the direction of the bride’s sister, who is far away from the family table.
I see her eating and talking with a man, so I smile as I glance at her. She appears to be at ease with the older man, who is dressed in a nicely fitted tux. He is slightly shorter than her father but has more hair.
Despite having a similar outfit to the other bridesmaids, Sofia's dress has a distinct flair. She has an athletic build and is the shortest of the bridal party. Barbara's train included most of her famous model pals, and although Sofia is the smallest, she is by no means the least attractive.
“She does,” I smile some more.
“And he is…,” Ruth nudges again in a different direction, and I catch Pietro Ferreri, the bride’s brother, wiping his hands clean with a napkin as he pushes out of his seat, one he shares with some of Boston’s high-profile single ladies.
He struts to Sofia in his pitch tux, short breezy ebony hair, and classic family latte eyes. They took after their father in their physical features.
“Good observation, Ruth. Thank you,” I lower my head as I smile. She does this kind of thing, always searching for ways to wash the tension off me.
“It’s my job,” she shrugs.
Speaking of her job, she needs to be up and about, not standing here gossiping. I flip my wrist to check my gold watch.
“Ruth, it’s time to serve the cupcakes,” I snap. “Go make sure the servers know what they are doing, and where to take what type of cake.” My tone is clipped, and she knows it’s business time.
“Yes, ma’am,” she tips her head in a teasing bow and struts away.
I breathe as my peripheral vision piques the bride and groom, strutting side by side to some of their guests.
I’m happy for Barbara, but this wedding has taken me back in time,and I wish… I wish so many things hadn't turned out the way they did. I wish I hadn't been so proud about my choice at the time. I wish I didn’t feel as humiliated as I felt.
My grandmother had advised me to try to see things from his point of view, but I ignored her advice, and I never went back to try to fix what I had ended. Right now, thinking about it, I regret all of it.
We were high school sweethearts and best friends. We were madly in love all through high school. Then, when graduation drew near, I was accepted with a full scholarship at my dream school in Paris, to become a pastry chef.
I found out that Ronan was behind it all, that he had paid for my admission, knowing that I was stressing out about whether I could get in, let alone afford it. When I found out what he had done, I was blinded by my anger and my pride was hurt. I didn’t want him to think he could just use his money and decide for me.
I never stopped to think that his gesture was truly heartfelt as opposed to controlling.
He, on the other hand, didn’t understand why I wasn’t happy and he was hurt by my reaction.
Neither of us gave in and by the time he came to look for me I had left for Europe and we never saw each other again.
Ronanis dressed simply in a black shirt and black dress pants, exuding confidence and poise.
Whereas Barbara is wearing a short white eggshell dress adorned with stones from the point where her heart-shaped neck cut curves to the fringe line that falls just past her knees. Like Cinderella, she is wearing shoes with matching Swarovski crystals.
