Her mother had often said that she had one of those faces that people saw and immediately wanted to tell their life story to, and that was pretty accurate. Mia loved to sit and hear the stories that her customers brought with them from around the country. Some stories of heartache, others of triumph. She often felt trapped a bit in her small part of the world, holding down the fort at the Sweet Tea B&B. Not that she didn’t love it, but sometimes there was a void.

The void of not having love in her life was the biggest one. It was times like this that she wished she had a man to put his arms around her and tell her everything was going to be okay. That he would back her up. That she wasn’t alone. Yet, she was alone, literally and figuratively.

As she stood in the middle of the little Southern Baptist church, complete with wooden pews and musty old hymnals, she felt more alone in the world than she ever had.

Kate stood in the middle of the large banquet hall. The Seymour wedding reception was one of the biggest parties she’d ever planned, and she was currently sweating bullets over the whole thing. Tomorrow night would either be the biggest moment in her career, or she’d been run out of town by angry Seymours carrying pitchforks and chanting “death to Kate Miller!”

Or maybe that was just a bit dramatic.

At thirty-seven years old, this party planning company was her second act. After her divorce five years ago, she felt adrift in her life. Not knowing what to do after being a stay at home mother for most of her married life, she was left a single mother with no education or experience. Starting her own business had been both a dream and a terrifying nightmare that sometimes woke her up out of a dead sleep, sweat dripping down her face.

“Kate?”

She turned to see Holly Jameson, the bride to be, standing behind her. Holly was the epitome of a young woman who came from a wealthy Rhode Island family. Perfect, long blonde hair swept up into a messy top knot that was actually made to look messy but probably took an hour to do. Perfect makeup with highlights and lowlights painted on like a piece of artwork. Perfect clothing from only the most expensive stores in town. And she was perfectly awful to work for, as if being demanding and rude seemed to be hobbies of hers.

“Hi, Holly. I didn’t know you were here yet.”

She looked down at her Apple Watch and then wrinkled her nose a bit. “I’m always early. Punctuality is one of the cornerstones of who I am.”