by Ali Parker
“Oh come on! You’re being dramatic.”
“I mean it, Jack. The last guy was an absolute dud. No joke. He spent the entire dinner talking to me about how he and his frat-boy friends like to get drunk every weekend and do stupid shit. Oh, and he was over half an hour late and had the audacity to be offended that I couldn’t accept his very obvious gift of guilt flowers because of my allergy.”
“It is a weird allergy,” Jackson muttered under his breath. “Especially for a wedding planner. I mean, really, what sort of psychopath willingly pumps themselves full of drugs on the day they’ve been planning with their clients just so they don’t turn into a puddle of snot during the ceremony?”
I pointed a warning finger up at his face. “Don’t.”
I knew my allergy was a strange one but I had no control over that. Of course, it was inconvenient to be a wedding planner of all things and have such an aversion to flowers. But I could manage it when I had to, and on my client’s big days, I always managed it.
He held up his hands and feigned defeat. “All right. All right. I’m sorry, Kim. Honestly, I’m not trying to hook you up with these losers. You deserve the best and nothing short of it. I don’t know why quality keeps falling through the cracks.”
“I’m not doing any more of your setups.”
“Don’t be like that. We’ll hit it out of the park one of these times. We just have to keep on trying. Wasn’t that your motto back in high school?”
“No. I’m being smart.” I drank another mouthful of beer and savored it on my tongue. It eased the stresses of the day. I’d felt like I was pinned against a wall with all of Verity’s requests from yesterday and having to follow through and make all the changes—some of which were new additions she and I hadn’t even discussed. I just woke up to them in my email inbox. “If I keep seeing guys you want to match me up with, I’m going to end up mounted to some creep’s basement wall with fake shiny black eyes or some shit. Each one is worse than the last.”
Jackson laughed and shook his head. “Come on, Kim. There’s no way they’re that bad. I haven’t been sending you out into the wild with sadistic taxidermists.”
“One of them told me I smelled like his mother.”
Jackson recoiled and his nose scrunched up. “Ew. Gross. Why?”
“I didn’t ask. I got up and left. Actually, that’s pretty much how every single date has ended.”
Jackson frowned and chewed the inside of his cheek. He and I had been friends since high school, and I had once believed he knew me well enough to successfully set me up on dates with men of the caliber I would like to date.
Men like Rick Garrett.
Was that the problem? Was I comparing all these young studs to the much older, wealthier, more sophisticated man whose wedding I was planning?
God, I hoped not. If that was the case, my chances of having a happily ever after of my own were even more out of reach than I thought. How could these dudes Jackson was setting me up with ever compare to the likes of Rick?
I groaned internally and let out a tired, weary sigh. “Maybe I’m just destined to be single.”
“A catch like you? Bound for eternal singlehood? Sorry, Kim, I’m not buying that one.”
I rested my chin in my palm and pulled a small crystal bowl of peanuts toward me. I popped a couple in my mouth and then slid it between Jackson and me so he could help himself. “Sometimes, I get caught up thinking that I should stop trying to force something that clearly isn’t meant to be right now. Does it sound crazy to just admit defeat and focus on my work right now instead of romance?”
Jackson ordered us another round of beers and then turned back to me. “In my experience, people find their soul mate after they throw in the towel and stop looking high and low for them.”
“I doubt I’m that lucky.”
Jackson took a handful of peanuts and began eating them out of his palm one after another until his lips were dusty with salt. “So I guess now isn’t a good time to tell you I have another guy lined up who wants to meet you?”
“No. God no. Tell him to crawl back into whatever hole he came out of. I’m not interested. No more dates for me. I’m going to focus on my work.”
“You mean focus on the soon-to-be-married guy you’ve been wanting to fuck for over a year?”
Was I that transparent that even Jackson knew how weak in the knees I was for Rick? “I have not wanted to fuck him. That’s so unprofessional. And—”
“True?” he asked with a cocky smirk.
I swatted his shoulder with the back of my hand. “Don’t be such a little know-it-all, Jackson. It’s not a good look.”
“I’m not a know-it-all. You just talk about the guy all the time. And Rick Garrett is kind of a big deal. You don’t have money and a body like that and not end up on magazine covers. Come on. Don’t be naive. Hell, I’d fuck him.”
I laughed. So did Jackson.
When we had our snickering under control, I sighed heavily and rested my elbows on the bar. “It sucks, Jackson. I like him. A lot. And I have for a while. And the closer we get to the wedding, the more I realize the woman he’s marrying is a truly terrible person. She doesn’t care about him. She just cares about what his last name can do for her.”
“Which is a lot,” Jackson noted.
He wasn’t wrong. “I just wish Rick could see it for what it was. He’s being used.”
“Guys like him will always be used. It’s damn near impossible to find someone who loves you for who you are when you’re that wealthy.”
That made me sad to hear. Rick deserved real love and his little girl deserved to see her father be adored by a good woman. I suspected she needed that kind of influence in her life. Verity certainly wouldn’t make a good role model when it came to true love and compassion and communication—or any of the healthy habits a stable, balanced, successful relationship required.
With a stepmother like Verity, what sort of teenager would Chessie become? Would Rick’s goodness win out against Verity’s shallow ways? Or would Chessie fall in with the wrong group of girls and become more and more like her vain stepmother with every passing day?
“What are you thinking about?” Jackson asked.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
I smirked. “It doesn’t matter. I was thinking about his daughter.”
“Rick’s?”
“Yes. Pay attention.”
Jackson chuckled. “You really are hung up on this guy.”
“I just have to make it through the wedding and then I can leave Rick Garrett in my rearview mirror and move on. He won’t take up any more space in my head once the job is done.”
Jackson didn’t say anything, but based on the slight downturn of his lips, I had a feeling he didn’t think it would be that easy. Truth be told, neither did I. Rick would be a hard man to forget.
I forced myself to smile and sit up straighter. “Anyway, that’s enough about me. We haven’t seen each other in months, and here I am sucking all the air out of the room talking your ear off.”
“Some things never change.”
“Like your sass, for starters,” I quipped.
Jackson shoved the peanuts toward me. “Take those away from me before I eat all of them.”
I stared at the crystal bowl. There were eight peanuts left. “Jack, you already ate all of them.”
“No, no,” he said, pointing at the bowl. “See? I left those for you.”
“How chivalrous.” I laughed before helping myself to the remaining peanuts. As I popped them in my mouth one at a time, I gave Jackson my full attention.
He told me all about his work, how things were going, and how he’d landed some pretty big clients. “The trouble is,” he said, “they’re not here in Nashville. I think it’s time I expanded my business and ventured out to wider and greener pastures.”
“How wide and green?”
Jackson eyed me uncertainly for a minute and hesitated before answering.
<
br /> I felt my heart fall in my chest. “Jack, are you moving away?”
He nodded.
“How far?” I asked.
“I wanted to wait for the right time to tell you, Kim. And tonight didn’t feel right. I was going to.”
“Just tell me where,” I said.
“New York.”
“Really?” I felt a grin tugging at my lips. “Jack, that’s awesome! I think you’d be really successful out there. Sure, it’s expensive, but you’ve been doing really well, and all you have to do is get your foot in the door, and then you’d be on your way.”
“I appreciate the support. I wasn’t sure how you would take it.”
“I’m in New York all the time for work,” I said. “I can make a point to come visit any time I’m out there for clients.”
“I’ll hold you to it.”
“Is this a for-sure thing?”
“It’s done. I’ve already signed paperwork for an apartment and I’m looking at office spaces online.”
“Wow,” I breathed. This was all happening so quickly. Almost too quickly. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too, Kimmy.”
“Don’t call me that.”
He flashed me a charming smile. “Sorry. Can’t help myself sometimes.”
I lifted my beer. “Cheers to new beginnings.”
He tapped his glass to mine. “And entrepreneurship.”
“I like that.” We drank from our beers and smiled at each other when we set them down. “Are you nervous about setting out on your own like this?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I was actually considering asking Hailey if she wanted to move with me. She hates her job out here. We all know that.”
“You should do it,” I said.
He blinked at me. “Really? I thought for sure you’d say it was a bad idea.”
He thought I’d think it was a bad idea for him and the girl he’d been in love with since high school to move in together? He was more naïve than I thought. And so was Hailey. They’d been doing this silly dance for years now and I hated to think what might happen to them if they lived in two different cities and went from seeing each other every day of the week to being reduced to online video chats and in-person visits once a month or so.
“You should ask her,” I said. “I bet she’d appreciate the offer even if she can’t wrap her head around moving away.”
Jackson nodded. “Yeah. Maybe I will. Oh! Before I forget.” He paused and twisted in his stool to rummage in the laptop bag hanging off the back of the chair. He always carried it with him in case he needed to pop online to chat with a client. He unzipped the bag, pulled out two paperback books, and placed them down in front of me.
They were W. Parker novels.
I pulled them close to me and opened the covers. Inside, scrawled in black felt, were signatures from the author.
“You didn’t?” I gasped.
“I did,” he beamed. “Does this make up for the series of shitty dates I’ve set you up with?”
I giggled and ran my fingers over the autograph inside the cover. “It’s a start.”
Chapter 15
Rick
Verity swept her sleek black ponytail over her shoulder before she leaned forward from where she was perched on the edge of the hotel bed. She reached for the straps of her heels—six-inch sky-high unstable beasts—but struggled with the buckle due to her long, glamorous, champagne-colored wedding nails.
She pouted her bottom lip and looked up at me. “Can you help me, baby?”
“Of course.” I pushed myself off the bathroom doorframe I’d been leaned up against and crouched down in front of her. I lifted her foot to rest her heel on my thigh so I could do up the four buckles of the shoe: two around the ankle, two around the calf.
Verity put her hand on my shoulder and gave me a sweet smile. “Thank you.”
“Always.” I took her other foot and began working to do that shoe up as well. Her toes were painted the same color as her fingernails and her skin was a shimmering bronze color after her final tanning session yesterday and her spa treatments. “Are you excited to go out with the girls tonight?”
Verity nodded as I set her foot down. She wiggled her toes. “Very. It’s been such a long time since we were all able to go out for a night of fun together like this.” Verity put her hand on my shoulder and leaned in for a series of sweet kisses. She tasted like grapefruit. “But I feel a little bad that you’re not going out with your boys.”
I shook my head. “Don’t feel bad. I did this once before, remember? A bachelor party isn’t important to me. Making sure you have a peaceful mind tomorrow morning is.”
I’d agreed to sit down with Kim tonight down in the hotel bar while Verity was out with her girlfriends just to run through things once more. The big day was tomorrow and so much planning was all coming to a head and I knew Verity would be stressed to her absolute max tomorrow morning. If there was something I could do to help with that, even a little bit, I was more than willing.
“You’re a good man, baby,” she cooed.
I helped her to her feet. “I’m looking forward to showing you just how good of a man I am tomorrow night after all our guests leave and we have this bed to ourselves.”
She giggled and rolled her eyes at me. “Why am I not surprised?” I slapped her ass when she passed me to collect her clutch from the dresser. She let out an adorable yelp and scowled at me over her shoulder. “Bad boy.”
I flashed her a devilish grin. “Only when I want to be.”
Verity turned back to face me with her clutch in one hand. “I have to go.”
“Go. Have fun. Don’t get into any trouble.”
She gave me a kiss on the cheek. “No promises. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“At the end of the aisle.”
Verity pressed a hand to my chest ever so lightly before rewarding me with a deep kiss. “At the end of the aisle. Before we know it, we’ll be husband and wife.”
“On that note, Mrs. Verity Garrett, get your sexy little ass out of here and have a good night.”
I made it down to the hotel lobby bar at a quarter after nine. When I arrived, Kim was already there. She was sitting at a table by the window overlooking the grounds one floor below. Gardens sprawled out beneath her and were broken up with white stone terraces framed in tropical flower beds and boasting comfortable outdoor sofas where other guests were lounging and sipping Hawaiian cocktails.
I took the seat across from Kim and she looked away from the window and up at me. “Hey.” She smiled. “How are you feeling?”
“Nervous,” I admitted. Even though I’d done this whole wedding gig before, I couldn’t shake the nerves that accompanied it. Tomorrow was going to be a big day. A lot of people were going to be in attendance, including photographers and journalists, all important people Verity had invited to make sure our wedding day was properly—and rigorously—documented. “I keep trying to tell myself it’s all going to go smoothly, but with a bride like Verity, you never know what’s going to try to take a bite out of you.”
Kim gave me an understanding nod. “I suppose that’s half the fun for some people. Is she off for the night with her girls?”
“Yep.”
Kim didn’t say anything. Perhaps she wondered why I wasn’t partaking in the usual ritual of a bachelor party myself.
“What are you drinking?” I asked.
She didn’t have a drink in front of her, but there was an open drinks menu on the table that I assumed she’d been looking through.
“I haven’t decided yet,” she said. “Something indulgent. Tomorrow is going to be a big day and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, too.”
I pulled the drink menu toward me and scanned the list of drinks. “You? Nervous? I didn’t know that was possible.”
“Then you haven’t been paying close enough attention.”
I chuckled and closed the menu. “Or you’re very good at putting on a
brave face.”
“Perhaps.”
I flagged down a waiter in a white uniform. He came to our table with a smile ready to take our order, and I asked for the nicest bottle of red wine they had for Kim and me to share.
“You don’t have to do that,” Kim said, her eyes widening a little with surprise.
“I want to. You’ve been an immense help, Kim. Just sitting down to do this with me tonight is above and beyond. I know you would much rather be up in your room putting your feet up relaxing before tomorrow. It’s a big day for me and Verity but I can only imagine how intense it’s going to be for you.”
She leaned back in her seat and studied me. “Well, you’re not wrong.”
“Good. Then we will share the wine.”
The corner of her lips curled in a smile. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
“Very well.”
I chuckled and nodded at the binder on the table. “Is that the list of events for review?”
“And vendors.” Kim pulled the black three-ring binder toward her. On the front were the gold embossed initials “R & V,” and when the wedding was over, she would be giving us the binder as a keepsake.
She flipped through the first twenty or so pages and then paused and turned it to me, showing me a schedule of tomorrow’s events, starting bright and early at seven in the morning. On the schedule were little notations in Kim’s elegant slanted writing and red ink. “I left some notes on the columns for you guys. Like right here. I know it seems unimportant to be reminded to eat, but trust me. Wedding days get away from you. One minute, you’re getting ready for the ceremony, and the next, you’re walking into the ballroom for the first time as husband and wife after pictures and you haven’t eaten in over five hours. With all the stress of the day, nutrition is important. Nobody wants a headache or fatigue on their wedding day.”
“Good point.”
“I know. I’m kind of a professional.”
I laughed. “What else?”
Kim proceeded to review the schedule with me. She gave me some pro tips on how to manage time and when to pause to take a breath and soak in the moment.