Clearly.
She smiled.
“We’ll discuss it after Christmas.”
Three days later, Ava Martinez, Megan’s wedding coordinator, emailed me asking when I wanted to schedule the final tasting.
I replied that Hearth & Pine had not been hired.
Ava apologized.
Then she forwarded Patricia’s original message.
I printed it.
That was the paper I carried into Christmas dinner.
Daniel called again.
This time I answered.
“Where are you?”
“At Tessa’s.”
“Mom is devastated.”
“I’m sure tonight embarrassed her.”
“You embarrassed her.”
“No. She represented my business after I told her not to.”
“She thought you’d come around.”
I went still.
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why would she think that?”
Silence.
I looked across the table at Tessa.
“Daniel, how long have you known?”
“A few weeks.”
Tessa saw my face change.
“When she told you what she promised Megan, did you tell her I had already refused?”
“I told her December was stressful for you.”
“That is not what I asked.”
He sighed.
“You usually help family. I figured once you calmed down—”
“So you knew I said no.”
“Claire.”
“And you decided my no was temporary.”
“I didn’t decide anything.”
“You made my answer meaningless.”
He became quiet.
Then he asked, “You’re seriously staying at Tessa’s over this?”
Over this.
As if I had left because Patricia criticized the garlic.
I slept in Tessa’s guest room.
At 8:42 the next morning, I opened my laptop and emailed Ava.
I asked for every message or attachment she had received involving Hearth & Pine.
At 9:17, eleven emails arrived.
Patricia had discussed staff arrival times.
Vendor meals.
Cocktail-hour service.
Water glasses.
Linens.
Menu tasting.
Cake service.
One attachment looked like an official Hearth & Pine proposal.
My logo.
My font.
My colors.
Even the rosemary branch from my website.
I had never made it.
Another attachment was an old insurance certificate belonging to my company.
That file had never been publicly available.