One Day Like This

by Laura Briggs

Genres: Romance; Clean & Wholesome Romance; Contemporary Romance; Holiday Romance; Romantic Comedy

Synopsis

‘I absolutely loved this gorgeous story, straight from the beginning I was hooked… a wonderful … feel-good read that is just perfect for the summer. ’ Katie’s Book Cave, 5 stars Tessa has finally done it. A beautiful tumbledown house with enormous picture windows, and a white-painted spiral staircase, has come up for sale in the charming Southern town of Bellegrove. She’s sold all her worldly belongings to turn her dream into reality – of opening a one-stop wedding shop. With her best friend designing dresses, and a local girl baking artisan cakes, Tessa thinks they might just make a success of it. But she wasn’t counting on her first clients being so completely clueless, or handsome handyman Blake Ellingham announcing that the building needs re-wiring… and, in his usual stubborn way, that it’ll take all summer to fix properly. Suddenly, it feels like she’s about to lose all she’s worked for. And trying to ignore the sparks between her and Blake is just making everything harder. Tessa won’t waste time on any man who isn’t The One. And she knows it can’t possibly be someone as infuriating as Blake. If she can just get him out of her head, maybe she’ll find a way to save her business and keep her dream alive... The perfect feel-good summer romance for 2018 for fans of Debbie Macomber, Jenny Hale and Debbie Johnson. Readers are loving One Day Like This : ‘ One Day Like This has a little bit of everything to tempt you… You know when you near the end of a story and wish it could carry on well this is exactly what I was feeling when I was reading those last few chapters… Beautiful, sweet and romantic!’ Rae Reads, 5 stars ‘ Loved this book very much. It had just enough sweet romance and the storyline was great! I highly recommend!’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘ I absolutely loved this. ’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘A little gem of a read… I was fully invested in Tessa and the girls and backed them all the way, wanting everything to work out for them, so they could all achieve their dreams’ Zooloo’s Book Blog ‘A sweet and lighthearted read, perfect for summer!’ Read More Sleep Less ‘This is perfect chick lit. ’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘The story is lovely and fluently written. I loved all the characters… An entertaining feel good book for everybody who loves a good wedding and people who are not afraid to take their future in their own hands.’ B for Book Review, 5 stars ‘A perfect beach or summer read ’ Goodreads reviewer ‘It certainly seems that this author knows how to write a wedding story! ... Light hearted and entertaining… tender and loving… such a lovely romantic book… An absolutely perfect summer read! Would definitely recommend!’ Stardust Book Reviews

Release date: July 17, 2018

Publisher: Bookouture

Print pages: 304

Sample

“You sit here, and Penny sits here,” six year-old Tessa said. “Next to Raggedy Ann.”

“Do I have to?” said Penny. She was the same age, but only came over to play because Tessa had the biggest collection of glitter ponies in the whole neighborhood.

“You do. I made place cards.” Tessa’s voice became slightly bossy. “Natalie is next to Mr. Bear and Fashion Girl is across from me.” At each place there was a carefully drawn card made with glitter markers, with names printed on them. Froggy, an overstuffed bean bag animal, had fallen forward on his face and squashed it flat, which Tessa noticed and fixed for the eleventh time.

Natalie rolled her eyes. “Just do it,” she told Penny. “It’s easier than arguing.” She sat down at the end of the table in her “chair,” which was only a cardboard back drawn with crayons. Next to her, Mr. Bear slumped over his teacup, while Raggedy Ann looked more chipper at her place opposite.

They were in Tessa’s playhouse, built out of an old cardboard appliance box with windows and a door cut into it, so, technically, she could make the rules for the tea party. As usual, Tessa’s tea party couldn’t consist of just a toy tea set and some stuffed animals. Her playhouse’s crayon-illustrated interior was decorated with lots of old white Christmas twinkle lights she had hauled out of attic boxes, and her mini table had a bouquet of flowers picked from the vacant lot down the street and the next-door neighbor’s flowerbeds—she probably hadn’t realized yet she was short a few gladiola stalks.

“This one’s too tall.” Tessa’s small fingers trimmed the biggest stalk with a pair of blunt-tipped school scissors. “There, perfect,” she said, as she stuck it back in the cracked glass vase. “Don’t eat the cookies!” she said to Penny, who had reached for the plate of gingersnaps in the middle of the table. “The party hasn’t started yet.”

“But I’m hungry,” whined Penny. “What are we doing here, if we’re not having a party?”

“Everything has to be perfect,” said Tessa. “Wait, I’ll put on my hostess apron.” A pink apron decorated with a cupcake picture was hanging from the plastic yellow stove behind her. “And my hostess crown.” It was made from gold paper, decorated with plastic rhinestones.

“Now I’m official,” she announced. “We can start the party for Fashion Girl’s engagement. Penny, you’re the bridesmaid, and so are Raggedy Ann and Natalie. Mr. Bear is giving away the bride, and Froggy is going to be the photographer.”

“Fashion Girl isn’t engaged,” said Penny. “She’s a famous worldwide model in the commercials. Plus, she’s just a plastic head.” She cast a scornful glance at the Fashion Girl at the head of the table, who was only a smiling head with shoulders and a champagne-blonde wig, wearing a dozen barrettes in her hair and too much washable eyeliner.

“It’s why we’re having the party,” said Tessa stubbornly. “It’s her engagement party, so we’re using special china with roses and having two kinds of cookies for guests to pick, and I hung the banner.” A very worn vinyl “Congratulations” banner was draped across the cardboard playhouse’s wall behind her.

“Big deal. They sell china tea sets for dolls in every store—and this water is brown! Ew, ick,” said Penny, making a face when Tessa poured her a cup from the little rose china teapot.

“It’s real tea,” explained Tessa. A long string with a teabag tag hung from the opposite side of the pot.

“Can’t we just play house the normal way?”

“No, we can’t. We need to have a reason to hold a party,” said Tessa. “It has to be a special one, like this one.” She held out a scrap page torn from a magazine, showing a big white tent decorated with tiny white star lights, and sprays of white gladiolas and lilies in the gold and cream painted ceramic vases on its buffet table, surrounded by smiling, chatting guests with champagne flutes. In the distance, a little girl chased fireflies. The picture’s caption read, A charming outdoor party celebrates the happy couple’s nuptials on a sultry Southern twilight eve.

“See?” said Tessa, as if holding all the proof anyone needed.

“This is DUMB!”

“But everybody likes gorgeous parties,” said Tessa. “I want everything to be extra nice.” She looked at the third living person at the table for support.

“Don’t look at me,” said Natalie. “My mom only brings me over to this house when Gramma has to go to the doctor.” She played with the end of one stubby dark braid of hair.

“I’m leaving.” Penny seized her glittery pink book bag and crawled out the playhouse’s rectangular door opening. “You can have your stupid fancy party without me. You’re weird, Tessa Miller.”

“Am not!” Tessa shouted back. But she looked crestfallen as she plopped down at her place at the table. The only smiling faces left were those of Raggedy Ann and the guest of honor, which was mostly painted on with real lipstick “borrowed” from Tessa’s mom’s cosmetic case.

“Are you gonna go home, too?” she asked Natalie. After a minute of quiet pouting, she looked at the only human guest left at her table.

“No. I can’t go until my mom comes back for me,” Natalie said. “But I’ll play.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I like weddings okay. Plus, I think playing house all the time is boring anyway.”

“Here’s your tea.” Tessa poured a cup for her. “And a cookie.” She passed her the plate. “There are two kinds, because this is a special occasion. You can try both.”

“Thanks,” said Natalie. “Want me to fix Fashion Girl’s makeup? If it’s her party, she should look good. I know a lot about makeup—my cousin lets me read all her fashion magazines. She’s fourteen.”

“Okay,” said Tessa. “Her makeup kit is by the grandfather clock.” The clock was drawn on the opposite wall, near the chintz curtains created by pink and yellow Crayola markers. The party was suspended for a few seconds as Natalie made the guest of honor a little more fashionable.

“Where’d you get the picture you showed that other girl?”

“From a magazine,” said Tessa. “I have lots of them. I put the best ones in a special folder.” She pulled it from her Strawberry Shortcake backpack. Marker letters spelled out “Tessa’s Big Dreams” between glittery flower stickers.

“Weird,” said Natalie. “What’s in it?”

“It’s all the big celebrations that people want to have,” said Tessa. She stuffed the folder back in place behind her history notebook. “That’s when people are happiest. I want to make them come true.”

“So, like, you have a big book full of parties and fancy dinners and that’s what you want to do—plan stuff so other people have fun?”

“It’s my dream,” said Tessa. That stubborn tone returned. “I like it.” She tossed a lock of her long, orangey-red hair behind her shoulders in a gesture of indifference to any opinions.

“Can I have another cookie?” Natalie asked.

“Okay. But we’re having the party now, so you have to talk to your neighbors too. Mr. Bear, would you like a cookie, too?” Tessa demonstrated. “Don’t you think your niece looks so pretty? A real fashion expert did her makeup.”

“I think she should have been a famous model in Milan instead of deciding to marry that dumb Ninja Turtle.” Mr. Bear’s voice was a creakier, deeper version of Natalie’s real one.

Tessa’s pouting lip returned, so her tea party guest stopped making the bear talk and ate another fig cookie bar. “Who’s the picture in the frame?” Natalie pointed to the one drawn with gold crayon, apparently sitting on a brown crayon table with stick legs that didn’t reach the bottom of the wall. Another magazine picture was pasted inside, of a hunky teen heartthrob who appeared frequently on the cover of TV magazines.

“Him? That’s my boyfriend,” said Tessa. “When I grow up, I mean.” She poured another cup of tea. “Here you are, Froggy. Sugar or lemon?”

“Are you going to marry him in a big tent with star lights?” Natalie asked.

“Maybe.” Something dreamy entered Tessa’s voice. “When I fall in love, I’ll find out.” She set aside the teapot. “Time for the special cake,” she announced, after ducking under the table and bringing forth a little bakery box with a cellophane top. Inside was an oversized cupcake, generously frosted with vanilla icing and dotted with bright patches of food coloring, whose containers seemed to have exploded horribly in the vicinity. “I made the icing myself.”

“I can tell.” Natalie wrinkled her nose.

Tessa stuck a birthday candle on top. “Make a wish,” she said to Fashion Girl. “All your dreams will come true on your big day that way.”

Matches clearly weren’t allowed. They waited a moment while Tessa made a blowing noise behind Fashion Girl’s smiling head, before she began cutting the cupcake—or decimating it—with the blunt blade of the kitchen’s play knife. She smushed the portions back together before serving it, then ate her own with a plastic play fork, while Natalie finished smashing hers to mush, pretend eating.

“I wish I was grown up now,” said Tessa.

“Why?”

“Because that’s when all the best stuff happens,” said Tessa. “That’s when all your dreams finally come true.” The faraway tone from before was matched by the look in her eyes, as if she was imagining that perfect life right then. Starry hopefulness shone in those bright childish irises, before the party’s hostess remembered the guest at hand.

“More cake, anybody?”

With a sigh, Tessa checked her watch as she leaned against the wall beside the bouncy castle. “Ten more minutes!” she called to the kids inside, all of whom ignored her.

“Tess, get those kids out of the castle pronto, will you?” Her boss Bill appeared. “We’ve got to break down the hotdog table in another twenty minutes.”

“Sure,” she said. And managed not to sigh again until he turned his attention to the birthday party clown, who was trying to fill his tiny suitcase with magic props. “Come on, kids! Time to go! There’s extra cake waiting for you!” She clapped her hands together to get their attention.

Another Saturday afternoon at a rented venue for a kid’s birthday party. Despite its name, Party 2 Go actually had four employees. Today, Tessa had drawn the short straw and was stuck with bouncy castle supervision and accidental spills. Lucky June was serving cake and soft drinks, while Tina was decorating ice cream sundaes with sprinkles.

At least she didn’t have Steve’s job, she reflected. The inside of the T-Rex costume’s head had been really smelly as of late.

By now, Tessa was supposed to be one of the top wedding planners in all of Bellegrove, the charming Southern haven where she’d grown up. The city lay on the coast, with a history of rugged sailing ships and willow-lined streets of mansions; it was now a modest metropolis split into sections. The neighborhoods had a cozy, intimate feeling with their old architecture sprawling across the last two centuries, from the waterfront and the fast-growing ethnic districts in historic buildings, to modern office complexes. Stretching from quaint churches and cemeteries in the old town’s district to museums in converted antebellum manor houses, chic restaurants in renovated warehouses, and department stores, this was where Tessa had lived all her life—here was the place she planned to make other people’s dreams come true: weddings beneath the open sky under shady willows, engagement parties in garden parks, solemn ceremonies in the old stained-glass chapel located mere walking steps from one of Bellegrove’s nicest beaches.

That was the plan in her head, anyway. It was one of the reasons she had stayed there after college, rather than moving to a bigger city like Charlotte or Raleigh—or moving to Florida where her mother had chosen to retire. But Tessa loved her childhood home town, with its cozy shops and cafes and sprawling oaks, the magnolia and dogwoods that bloomed in the parks and along the sidewalks every summer, and the distant beach that reminded her the ocean was the gateway to the world. But she might as well be six again, staging parties for her toys—except six-year-old Tessa had been much closer to living her dream than her grownup counterpart seemed to be.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried. She had graduated with a hard-earned dual business and design degree, and after peddling her résumé to every event planner from one side of the city to the next, she’d snagged a job at the Antebellum, a local tearoom. For five blissful months, Tessa had arranged real tea parties for small occasions instead of dolls, until an economic slump left fewer customers celebrating birthdays and girls’ days out with overpriced Darjeeling and macaroons—leaving her jobless again and peddling her résumé anywhere that would take it.

No event planners needed yet another junior drudge at the moment, even with a recovering local economy. Which had landed her here, in the last possible role she ever imagined for herself in dreaming of planning someone’s celebration: mopping up soda spills in record time and removing mustard stains from the big T-Rex costume. When she wasn’t being forced to wear it, that is.

“Time to pull the plug,” said Bill.

You said it, Tessa thought, although not for the same reasons. Her boss had found the release button for the inflated bouncy castle, and its walls began sagging. “Give me a hand, Tess.” The two of them folded it, as a crowd of disappointed children booed, then dispersed as one of their mothers intervened.

“This thing is heavier than it looks,” said Tessa with a grunt. She struggled beneath the box with the folded castle and the air compressor inside.

“Use those muscles, Tess.” Bill thumped her on the back with his clipboard. “We still have to fold tables and clean up that slice of cake somebody smashed over by the emergency exit.”

“Great.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Steve remove his T-Rex head. A whiny eight-year-old began screaming immediately at the sight of a human head atop the dinosaur body, a group of adults trying to console him.

Bill occasionally needed help planning birthday parties, but not often. Most birthday party clients weren’t interested in creativity; otherwise they hired one of the glitzier ‘gung ho’ planners in the city. Bill advertised the all-in-one package heavily, which included cake, cookies, hotdogs or pizza, with a bouncy castle and two entertainers (one of whom was always dressed as either a dinosaur or a princess). Except for choosing cookies or cupcakes, or picking up new plastic tablecloths, there wasn’t much for Tessa to do.

Watching her future slip away was hard. All those classes on hospitality, design, small business budgets—her college years were a hectic collage, with all those bits and pieces helping develop her natural talent for negotiating with people, coordinating their tastes and dreams into a harmonious event, and troubleshooting little setbacks and mistakes for a smooth experience. She had never pictured her degree leading to the same bouncy castle and confetti-print napkins, week after week.

“Hey, Red, you missed a spot.” Red was Tina’s nickname for Tessa, because of her bright red hair. Her sarcastic coworker pointed to the remains of a hotdog obviously trampled underfoot multiple times, something the broom in Tessa’s hands could never possibly clean.

“Thanks a lot,” she muttered. She resisted the urge to stick out her tongue, though Tina’s back was facing her by now anyway. This was a job for the putty knife in the cleanup supply bucket. Tessa couldn’t prevent herself from groaning aloud as she reached for it. She would never crave hotdogs again, she decided, her nose wrinkling in disgust. To top it off, this one had chili sauce on it, making it look a little like someone’s barf. That was chili, right?

Don’t go there, Tessa. She made herself plunge into her latest cleaning task. It was the fifth accidental spill, and they hadn’t even finished serving dessert yet—meaning mushy bits of cake and ice cream sundaes were probably in her immediate future.

There were worse lives to live, of course. But there were better ones too—and lately, Tessa found herself thinking of the better kind more and more. The fantasy life where she ran her own event planning firm, creating moments that were both special and personal for her clients. Portfolios of celebratory concepts both unique and dazzling; digital contact lists of caterers, florists, and suppliers who would provide anything and everything a client wanted. Creating moments that would seem like magic when her clients looked back on them years later, a snapshot of happiness in life’s jumbled-up collage—that was Tessa’s idea of a future.

So what was she doing stuck in the same lackluster job as always? Scraping up squashed bread and Jell-O cake day after day, as chances slipped past her in a world filled with opportunities, all of which had managed to elude her thus far?

She was flicking up the last bit of mess when a pair of stiletto heels crossed her path. Designer, Devil Wears Prada-type heels. Instead of moving around her, they stopped in their tracks. The person attached to the sleek legs wearing them exclaimed, “Is that really you, Tessa? Oh my gosh, it is you!”

Even before she looked up, Tessa knew it was the last person on earth she would choose to see at this moment. The blast from the past had all the charm of a chilly, damp burst of air from an old window-cooling unit. Even the roommate who left her to pay their part of the year’s rent without warning might be more welcome than the owner of these shoes. That was how much she didn’t want to see her snobby childhood neighbor turned college frenemy, Penny Newcastle, right now.

Penny had always been infuriatingly superior, entitled, and gifted with perfect luck and perfect timing. She had gone on to greater things after graduating, Tessa had heard through the gossip chain. Which was exactly what everybody believed about Penny’s future, which had never been subject to polite tsks of sympathy from those who warned her about the foolhardiness of pursuing her dreams.

Penny had probably never eaten a hotdog, much less scraped one off the floor.

“Penny, what a surprise. Great to see you.” Tessa tried to sound casual as she jumped to her feet. If she just pretended this whole situation wasn’t horribly awkward, maybe Penny would too. Fat chance.

“Tessa, I’m in shock. I had no idea you were part of the Hughes’s circle of friends,” Penny said with amazement. “I mean, I’m only their neighbor, of course, but I’ve been to enough of their parties that I can’t believe I haven’t come across you before now.”

Just then, her glance fell on Tessa’s nametag. “Oh…” A polite little o formed by a flawlessly lipsticked mouth. “My mistake,” she said. “Oopsie. My bad.” That awful little smile from their days at college was back—the one that was part pity, part fake sympathy, which Penny always trotted out for people she didn’t really like.

“As you can see, I’m part of the event planning staff,” said Tessa. “Party 2 Go? We specialize in birthday parties, graduations… pretty much anything involving kids and families. So I’m at work right now, making a client’s day feel special.” She was trying to sound upbeat. Would Penny believe it, given the fact that she was wearing a t-shirt with a T-Rex in a party hat printed on it, and holding a plastic pail containing the remains of some kid’s lunch?

“But how on earth did you end up with this, Tessa?” said Penny, sounding still more amazed—while not being amazed at all, as Tessa well knew. “A kids’ birthday party firm just doesn’t seem like the you I remember from all those years, who was so into the idea of big weddings, and cozy little intimate ceremonies and all those grownup occasions. I’m so surprised to see you doing this instead.”

You had such ambition back then. Such big ideas. So why did you pick this dead-end job, Tessa? Why did you fail?

Penny’s smile made Tessa want to hurl herself under the nearby fold-out table, where June was laying out a big, green Jell-O cake covered with neon frosting for the Hughes family’s noisy guests.

“This is just a temporary position for me.” If she said this convincingly, Tessa told herself, then she would believe it, too. “I’m intending to take an opening position at an event planning firm, and work my way up the ladder. It’s a plan in progress.” Mostly inside her head and in the pages of the five-year business plan she had crafted in her free time. She sometimes took it out of its folder and gave it a wistful flip-through.

“So what about you?” she asked Penny. “It looks like things are going well for you.” A massive understatement, since her old classmate was dressed to the nines for a cupcake and hotdog birthday celebration.

Penny gave a modest laugh. “What can I say? Work is positively insane right now. But then you can’t accept a promotion from an international firm and not expect to lose a few nights’ sleep occasionally.” She took a sip from her party cup and made a face at its punch. “With the transfer to Florence next year, I’ll be busier than ever.”

“You’re moving to Florence?” Tessa felt envious as she echoed these words.

“I know, I know. My dream job, and I’m only now receiving the chance,” said Penny. “But it’s just for six months or so. I get bored if I stay in the same place too long. Or date the same man.” She laughed. “My latest—you should see him. He’s a personal trainer named Ashton. Dark, handsome, not too clingy, and he’s keeping me firm and fit with a free membership at his gym,” she added, resting one hand on her slender hip, flanking her nonexistent stomach.

Penny, who had never been short of admirers, would undoubtedly be surrounded in no time by hunky Italian men as she sipped wine in picturesque villas. Tessa brushed some hotdog crumbs from her t-shirt and tried not to cry.

Things were getting out of hand at the dessert table nearby, with kids shoving ahead of each other for second helpings of the Jell-O cake, rocking the table as June tried to prevent an upset.

“Tessa, could you give me a hand?” she said. A small hand smeared frosting over the plastic tablecloth sporting more smiling T-Rexes, after one kid transformed his slice into play dough by squeezing it.

“Duty calls,” Tessa said, pasting on a chipper smile. “Nice seeing you, Penny. Good luck in Florence.”

She breathed a sigh of relief as she turned away, dignity intact. Only to walk straight into a comic trap, as the over-exuberant birthday boy made a swipe for an extra slice of cake and shoved the whole thing off the table in the process—all over Tessa’s sneakers.

“Oooh, what a shame,” Penny sympathized. “At least they weren’t real leather, right?” She gave Tessa a consoling pat on the shoulder before moving on to chat with some of her fellow guests.

“Tina! Get the backup cake!” called June. “Tess, when you’ve cleaned that up, will you grab some extra dessert plates from the truck? Thanks. Hey—did your mom say you could have all those cookies, little lady?” June turned on the offending child, who was loading up a plate with a tower of sugar cookie clowns.

It couldn’t get any worse than this. Tessa consoled herself with that truth as she finished wiping off her shoes—now stinky and a hideous shade of lime green from the neon food coloring that was saturating the icing. At this juncture, her boss Bill approached, dangling a set of keys from his fingers.

“Tough luck, Tessa,” he said. “Justin quit this morning. Looks like you’ll have to drive the truck for the next few gigs until I can find somebody new.”

“Me? Drive the truck?” Tessa groaned. “I thought I was supposed to work on coordinating cakes and snacks the rest of this month. You promised, Bill.” It was better than nothing, being the employee who selected the baked creation for each party—and a thousand times better than driving the truck, which tended to earn honks and snickers of laughter in traffic due its design. The truck’s bed was encased in a decorative plastic camper shell that made it look like a dachshund inside of a hotdog bun, complete wit. . .