Troy nodded. “Good luck. I’ll keep looking here and start calling caterers and getting an idea of availability. Musicians, too. Are you thinking band, then DJ? What about ceremony music? String quartet?”
Emily nodded in agreement. “Yes to all. Go to our top tier names for everything. I don’t want to steal a venue from another couple…but I’d be less bothered by snagging their music if they have the right one. We can always line up a replacement for them that no one except for an expert would be able to discern a difference in skill. Work from our list of preferred caterers, and have our top three prepare a sample menu. Double check with our most recent internal rankings, but I’m guessing it’ll come down to Leila’s, Blue Bistro, and La Bella Cucina. Maybe Swallow Café or Donovan’s. Find out Charlotte’s food and drink preferences and match those with their menus, then start making calls based on the fit.”
“And Ethan?” Troy asked.
“What?”
“And Ethan…you want me to find out Ethan’s tastes as well, right? You keep mentioning Charlotte, and I know it’s all about the bride…but you haven’t once mentioned that handsome groom I saw you licking tongues with. He is still coming, right?”
Emily narrowed her eyes at Troy. “Of course. I’ll be back later.”
*****
Emily was still frowning as she left the building and made her way through the tree-shaded parking lot to her car. A large, white splotch marred the windshield of the otherwise spotless car, causing her frustration to deepen. She could mentally hear her mother’s voice telling her to relax her face or the frown lines would become permanent fixtures between her eyebrows. Then, Emily imagined, her mother would peer closely at Emily’s face and suggest that perhaps it’s never too early for a little Botox, and when was the last time she had her eyebrows done?
It was an uncharacteristically hot and humid late spring day. In the haze of the afternoon heat, Emily could practically smell the stale cigarette breath of her mother as she leaned in to Emily, scrutinizing her face, finding something to criticize. Something that Emily should improve.
Emily remembered the gift her mother had given her for her twenty-first birthday gift—a $1000 gift certificate for the cosmetic enhancement of her choice. That was when her mother was married to a plastic surgeon; Emily’s step-daddy, Stuart, would be the hand that cut her. That was her mother’s third marriage. It lasted less than a year, but not before Emily could escape the calculated, and pervy looks and shameless ogling from Stuart. When she called him out on it, he claimed it was an occupational hazard, and he couldn’t help but examine everyone he saw, identifying the flaws. He claimed Emily was so close to perfect that he just had to look extra hard to find anything that needed improvement. He’d offered to give her a private appointment…a proposition that still made Emily shudder every time she remembered it.
Emily took a deep breath and banished the memory of Stuart and her mother from her mind. She needed to focus on the wedding venue, and she couldn’t do that with Stuart’s gross face leering at her. She needed to think of romance and love and beauty. She forced her mind to switch gears and ran a map of the city through her head, thinking of the little known places, secret gardens, where they might host the wedding.
She slid into her beloved car, the leather seats just the right side of scalding since the buttery material had been protected from the harshest of the sun’s rays by the shade of the large live oak. Which also, it seemed, left her lovely car’s exterior vulnerable to the gastrointestinal urges of the resident avians. A quick splash of wiper fluid, and the mess was washed away, leaving her car gleaming again. If only all of life’s messiness could be erased so easily.
Emily sighed, her thoughts shifting from her mother and her disastrous marriages to another impending tragic wedding—Charlotte and Ethan’s. Ethan. God, how could she actually be planning his wedding? This was fate reminding her that marriage wasn’t for her. She felt like Sisyphus, eternally pushing the same boulder up the hill, only to watch it roll back down again as soon as he reached the top. She was doomed to repeat the same task over and over and over, planning wedding, after wedding, never reaching the altar herself. Yet she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed her career, loved it, in fact. The only question was, did she derive pleasure from it in spite of the pain it also caused, or because of it?
Still, though, daydreaming about Ethan wasn’t anything close to marrying him. She might never make it to the altar, but no one could stop her from thinking about him, and the feel of his hands on her, the sensation of his lips on hers, the heat of his body pressed against hers.
As the air conditioning in the car finally began to chase the worst of the heat away, Emily shifted the car into reverse to commence her exploration of the city. When she glanced in her rear-view mirror before pulling out, she gasped in surprise. Framed in the center of the reflective glass just inches from her bumper, was Ethan. She pushed her foot hard onto the brake, though she hadn’t eased it up enough yet for the car to move, and quickly shifted back into park. Her heart was racing in her chest, and Emily couldn’t say if it was the shock of almost backing into him, or if it was just from seeing him. She feared that it was the latter.
She eyed him in the mirror, and followed his approach to her window, hesitating just a fraction of a second before rolling the glass down so they could speak.
“Afternoon, Emily,” he said in his tummy-fluttering, deep voice. “Playing hooky from the office?” He grinned at her.
“Hey, Ethan,” she responded, nerves causing her words to come out stuttery and, she worried, like gibberish. “I’m working. I need to find the perfect venue for, uh, you…and Charlotte. It wasn’t in my books…I mean, the binders we keep of all our places where we have weddings. Those are all booked anyway, since the wedding’s coming up so soon. We need the venue before we do anything else, so I need to find something else. I know where it is—at least I think I know, I just don’t know exactly where it is yet.”
Emily clamped her lips together to prevent any more nonsense from spewing out. Why was his presence making her so nervous? Was it because now that she knew that he was part of an FBI investigation, she was intimidated by the enormity of the whole enterprise? Or was it because she was regretting her “friends” speech, and was wishing he was available for all the dirty thoughts she’d been having about him?
“Relax, Emily,” he drawled at her, and leaned in to rest his hand on her shoulder. She shivered from the pleasure she felt from his touch. He squeezed gently, sending the shivers racing to her groin and pooling in the space between her legs. All from a mere touch on her shoulder. “I’m not here to catch you skipping out on work. I just wanted to check in with you and see how you’re handling everything you learned the other day. I’m not worried about the wedding. You, of all people, should know that. I’m more worried about you, and how you’re doing. Because we’re good friends, after all.
He smirked. “And I always look out for my friends.”
“I-I’m fine. You know, we wedding planners hear all kinds of stories.” Emily strove for breezy, but she was confident she wasn’t pulling it off. “It doesn’t change our commitment to plan the best wedding for every couple, no matter what. Even if we know it’s a mistake.”
Ethan raised his eyes in response, but remained silent. The hand that wasn’t on her shoulder lifted slightly as if he was planning to wave his good-byes, but then stopped. Instead, he asked, “Want some company?”
Emily opened her mouth to turn him down, but he grinned down at her, his single dimple creasing in his cheek. “I am the groom after all. Don’t I get some say in the venue for my wedding?”
Of course, he knew he left her with no argument, so she acquiesced. “I’m not sure I’ve ever had company on my wanderings, but there’s a first time for everything, I guess. Hop in.” Emily ignored the flutters of excitement in her stomach at the thought of being alone with him in the car for the afternoon, and ducked her head to hide the smile that she couldn�
��t fight back. She suddenly felt on top of the world.
Unfortunately, that feeling only lasted about twenty seconds, because as soon as Ethan slid into the seat next to her, a bout of shyness overcame Emily and she couldn’t think of a thing to say. Dammit, I suck, she thought to herself. Say something clever and awesomely flirty, she ordered, but her brain refused to comply.
Ethan saved her. Again. That was becoming a pattern. And a problem.
“You mentioned planning weddings even when you know they’re mistakes. Interesting phrasing,” Ethan noted. “Do you see a lot of mistakes?”
Emily pulled up to an intersection and stopped at the stop sign before making a right-hand turn. She was heading in the general direction of the river, with a detour past the historic district and some of the old plantation homes that the area was known for. She didn’t think that the wedding would take place at any of those places—they had all been booked up for months, but she thought she might get some other inspiration by looking at the old buildings and homes.
In response to Ethan’s question, she said, “More than you’d think. You know, the best part of every marriage is the wedding. It’s all downhill after that.”
Ethan frowned slightly. “That’s awfully cynical for someone who makes a living planning weddings.”
The words themselves were somewhat harsh, but Ethan’s tone tempered the language and assured Emily that he was genuinely interested in her thoughts, and not judging her. She struggled to find the right words to respond. “It’s actually just the opposite. I know that the wedding is their finest moment, and I want to preserve that for them. If something ruins that day, then what hope do they have for the rest of their relationship? I have to make it as close to perfection as I can, so they always have that memory to draw on when things go bad. The marriage may suck, but they’ll always have the one flawless moment that is their wedding day.” Emily paused. “That probably doesn’t make any sense…”
“It makes perfect sense.” Ethan stared at her, and she felt like he was seeing into her soul, dragging out the bits of her that she hid from everyone else, that she guarded next to her heart, keeping both safe from harm. “But I think you’re not being completely honest. I don’t think you plan the perfect wedding so they have some wonderful memories. My guess is you plan the prefect wedding so you can present couples with the knowledge that they can be happy together. You think that the better the day is the better chances your ‘mistakes’ have at a happy ending”.
Emily gasped. He’d cut straight through her bullshit to her secret truth. The truth she’d never admitted to anyone, barely even herself. How could he see through her defenses so quickly, so easily? How was it that this man she’d only just met could read her feelings better than anyone? She was in trouble. Deep trouble.
*****
While they were talking, Emily was driving. She’d started by driving through the quaint historic district, where ancient live oaks dripping with Spanish moss lined cobblestone streets. Vast expanses of green lawn and curving driveways led to grand plantation houses. In this area, most were owned by foundations rather than private families, and some had been converted into hotels, museums, and bed and breakfasts. Emily drove aimlessly, or so she thought, letting the turns come as they did without conscious thought about where she was going or where she would end up.
Afraid of the feelings that Ethan conjured in her at his perceptions, she steered the conversation to safer ground, first asking him if he knew the history surrounding some of the more well-known houses in the area. Ethan shook his head no, but part of Emily wondered if he really didn’t know or if he was accepting her change of subject gracefully. She didn’t spend too long wondering about his true intentions. Instead, she seized the opportunity to speak about the houses: what they used to be, what they were now. Most were plantation homes dating back to the 1800s. After “the war” most of the home owners fell into financial distress and eventually sold their properties. These homes had been restored to their former glory.
As they continued to drive, the homes became less maintained and more dingy looking. Gleaming white paint and neat shutters gradually became replaced with sunken porches and chipped paint. Here, more of the original owners struggled to maintain a hold on their pasts without having the financial means to do so properly.
Emily continued with her narrative, sometimes noting where she’d held a wedding in years past, sometimes discussing the state of the owners. Ethan seemed content to let her speak, and she let her voice fill the space in the car. He occasionally asked questions, enough that she knew he was paying attention, which encouraged her to continue. It was in this fashion that an hour, then two, meandered by. The beginnings of dusk replaced the late afternoon sunshine, and a loud rumble from Emily’s stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
Embarrassed by the noise, Emily’s cheeks reddened, and she smiled sheepishly.
“Ugh, sorry,” she apologized, though really, there was nothing for her to be sorry for. It was more from embarrassment than anything else that she said it.
Ethan’s deep rumble of a chuckle warmed Emily’s insides. “I’m the one who should apologize. I hijacked your drive and didn’t even offer you anything in return. I insist you let me buy you dinner.”
Though Emily was delighted at the offer, her sensible side reigned. “No, really, I’ve practically kidnapped you, driving around town for hours and boring you with history lessons of a time long gone.”
“Nothing about this time with you was boring, Emily,” came Ethan’s reply, a huskiness in his voice that captured her attention. He gazed at her with an intensity that made her quake.
She deliberately looked back at the road. “I’ll start heading back in just a couple minutes,” Emily replied, ignoring the innuendo in his voice. “I just want to head in this direction a little longer.”
“I’ve got nowhere to be,” Ethan said, “except having dinner with you.”
Emily continued to ignore the offer, and not just because she wasn’t sure how to respond. While she was thrilled with the idea, she wanted to resist the temptation.
More though, she was distracted from thoughts of dinner by a different feeling that was building. It was an inkling that she was arriving at the destination she had been seeking all afternoon.
The world outside her narrow focus blurred as Emily drove instinctively, making one turn, then another, until finally, a deep sigh of pleasure escaped her as she slowed the car to a stop. In from of her, a rolling expanse of green framed a charming, yet modestly sized, plantation-style house. The front of the house was somewhat unimpressive. Charming, certainly, but unlike the grand mansions they had passed earlier. Now that she was here, though, Emily knew the back of the house would show a different story.
As she unsnapped her seatbelt, she looked over at Ethan and quietly said, “I found it.”
Ethan looked at her with a gaze of curiosity, but said nothing. Instead, he clicked open his own seatbelt and motioned for her to lead the way. He seemed to know, instinctively, not to say anything.
As Emily stepped out of the car, the unseasonably muggy air enveloped her in a warm hug. It felt comforting after the chill of the air conditioning in the vehicle.
Near the house, the grass gave way to crushed shell paths that edged a maze of roses. Though they weren’t in bloom yet, Emily knew that when they were, they would light up the garden with a riot of colors and sizes. Ivory roses tinged with violet, deep red roses, the color of blood that smelled like heaven, an orange so vibrant you would swear it would glow in the dark. The large circular driveway leading up to the house cut through the roses and opened to a stone walkway that led to a grand double door made of solid, dark mahogany.
That, at least, was what Emily remembered seeing, last time she had been here. That had been years ago, and now the house was just shadow of what it had once been. It still looked regal and grand, but the paint was chipping on the wood siding, and the roses, once pruned
to perfect blooms were now a mass of thorny bushes overgrowing the paths and hanging low with unclipped, too-long branches.
Around the back, Emily knew, would be more of the same. What had once been a prairie of wildflowers and tall oak trees would have succumbed to weeds and rampant brush and saplings.
It wasn’t, in the end, the perfect wedding venue Emily had been seeking all afternoon. It was something much more dear. She breathed in deeply, inhaling as much of the atmosphere as possible, memories of long ago days rushing at her. “It might not look like much now. I guess wouldn’t work for the wedding. It would take too long to get it fixed up. But still, even as it is now, neglected and abandoned, isn’t it gorgeous?” she breathed.
“Yes, gorgeous.” Ethan’s voice held an intensity and heat that compelled Emily to look at him. He wasn’t focused on the landscape stretching before them. He was locked in on Emily. There was no mistaking his intent. Ethan reached for Emily’s waist and pulled her to him. Firm, but gentle. Emily didn’t resist. When he settled her against the length of his body, she could feel his penis already growing hard against her. She couldn’t resist pushing her pelvis into it. As she did, Ethan groaned and dove for her mouth. As his lips crushed hers, he wound his hand around her hair and held her head in place. His tongue drove into her mouth and demanded she open to him, not that she had any inclination to resist. Her tongue met his, thrust for thrust. She was so hungry for him that she couldn’t get enough, couldn’t feel close enough. He was fully erect now, and he ground into her.
Emily writhed against him, desperate for his cock to press into her center where she wanted it most. Ethan must have sensed her distress because he lifted her up. Emily wound her legs around his waist and moaned in pleasure at the new contact between his erection and her clit. She ground down onto him, knowing that it would only be a moment before this was no longer enough. Soon, she’d need skin on skin, skin in skin.
Ethan’s hands gripped her ass as he held her, never breaking their kiss. His teeth nipped at her lip and sucked it into his mouth. Emily thought she might cry from the sensation. Her pelvis continued to grind against him, urging him closer to her and pressing down on his cock as much as she could. She rubbed her clit against him, and even through their clothes, felt the arousal building. She thought if she could just keep doing what she was doing, she would orgasm in minutes. And oh, did she want that! She pressed harder onto him, and Ethan responded by moving his lips from her mouth to her neck, nibbling and licking his way to her ear, where he whispered, “Come on, baby,” in encouragement.
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