I knew exactly what would happen.
And it happened.
I watched my sister’s face light up . . .
“Oh, Margot!” she cried, jumping from her seat, rushing to the first whiteboard and pointing at a picture. “That’s the dress I had my eye on!”
“Excellent,” Margot declared, walking to that whiteboard and ripping the pictures of the five other dresses she had on there from it, and the clips from bridal magazines drifted to the ground.
I looked to Deanna.
Deanna looked to me.
Her chest was heaving with suppressed laughter.
Mine was too.
“There’s a bridal shop in the city,” Margot went on. “They have that in stock to try on. I’ll make an appointment. We’ll go after the new year. They’ve told me, once it’s ordered, it takes four to five months to have it made. With alterations, we have no time to spare.”
“Do you think we can get this limo?” Izzy asked, pointing to a picture of a classy-ass, black Cadillac limousine.
Shoop!
Shoop!
Shoop!
The three other limo pictures that were on the whiteboard floated to the ground.
I snorted.
“Girl,” Deanna mumbled under her breath.
Izzy and Margot did not hear us.
“That limo is available from a company in Bowling Green,” Margot proclaimed. “Consider it booked. I’ll also book two more, one for the bridal party, and one for David and myself and any other special guests you might have.”
“Oh my, do you think Macy can find those peach roses?” Izzy gushed, gazing with wonder at a photo of a bouquet.
Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop!
I pressed both fists hard into my belly.
Deanna reached across Izzy’s chair to grab hold of my knee like it was a lifeline.
“I’ve already been in touch with her. There’ll be an additional charge to what we’ve already put a deposit on when we gave her our preliminary ideas, but she assures me she’ll have no problem locating them,” Margot asserted.
“My hair . . .” Izzy turned to Margot. “I think I want it looser.”
Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop! Shoop!
Gone were all of the updos that Margot had pictures of on the whiteboard.
“We have time for hair and makeup. We’ll schedule tryouts of that . . .” Margot walked to her day planner, flipped it open, shuffled through pages then reached and grabbed a Swarovski pen and tapped a page with it, looking up at Izzy, “late June. That gives you time to change your mind and have another run-through just to make sure.”
“Perfect!” Iz exclaimed, clapping her hands together.
I got up and started to pick up the discarded clips from the floor.
“Adeline, if you would, please, arrange those by category,” Margot requested. “I’ll be filing them and if Eliza wants another look at something, I want it handy what she wishes to see.”
“No probs,” I muttered, grinning to myself and still gathering.
I continued to do this, and alternately sit with Deanna, who was shoving the stuff in different plastic envelopes Margot gave her, for the next thirty minutes as Iz and Margot pared the three whiteboards down to two.
I also did this surreptitiously sending a text to Tobe, saying, This is even more hilarious than I thought it would be.
Toby texted back, Not surprised. Do I gotta tell Johnny he needs to sell a kidney?
Before I could reply, Margot ordered, “No outside distractions, Adeline.”
“Sorry,” I muttered, even though my presence there, so far, had been unnecessary, outside a happy witness to the hilarity and picking up rejected wedding ideas from the floor.
When she and Izzy got down to deciding when to do the cake tasting, I managed to send, I’m not allowed to text. Fill you in later. Please, God, don’t reply. I’ll get in trouble. Love you!
I hit send just as Dave strode through, obviously saw the void whiteboard and thus called, “Thank God. Now can I put that danged thing away?”
“We’re not done,” Margot replied.
“Margot, I’m half an hour from going to the airport to pick up Lance and his family. We’re gonna have ten more people in this house between now and tomorrow morning. We need space.”
“You can go get Lance, and when we’re done, I’ll put it away,” Margot said.
“No you will not,” Dave bit out.
Deanna, Izzy and me went still at his tone.
“David—” Margot began.
“You’re not done before I leave, Lance and me will put it away. You don’t touch that board, Margot,” he ordered.
“Okay, darlin’,” she said quietly.
Dave stalked off.
I looked to Iz who looked to me then to Deanna, who I looked to before we all turned to Margot.
“Let’s sort this out,” Margot stated, all businesslike, and completely ignoring that out-of-character behavior from Dave. “We’ll need focus come January and we have to know what we’re focusing on. But everyone has things to do today, therefore we need to get cracking so it can all get done.”
She was not wrong about that.
It was Christmas Eve’s Eve and my schedule was garbage.
Michael had hired some extra help, but except for one of them, they were all flaky.
This meant I’d been doing hints of overtime here and there all week, including three hours on Tuesday, which was my day off, and three hours that morning, Friday, which was my other day off.
And I had to work until six tomorrow, Christmas Eve.
The good news was, money was money and I needed it, and taking an extra hour at the end of a shift or working for a few and having the rest of the day off was no skin off my nose.
The other good news was, I had most of the day off that day to do this wedding business and then get ready for my night with Toby.
Izzy had taken a couple of days off to have a chill Christmas, so she was taking Brooks (who was right then napping in Margot’s guest room) and he was spending the night with his Aunt Iz and Uncle Johnny while Toby and I went to Lora’s party (then got it on at his place after).
And I was really looking forward to it, most of all looking forward to hitting Tobe’s after this and getting ready there since we were spending the night there.
I had not had the opportunity to do that since the night of the snowstorm and our avowals of love. But his place was more my gig, it was also just his place and I liked to be in his space.
So for me, until nine thirty the next morning, I had nothing but goodness to look forward to.
This wedding meeting was just the first part of it.
Sadly, it was over all too soon, but after Deanna took off, Izzy and I hung with Margot until Brooks got up.
We let him go from sleepy to lovey, and then after lots of snuggles from his mom, Iz and my boy took off.
But I hung back.
Because I wanted to chat with Margot.
“Don’t you have a party to get ready for, darlin’?” she asked.
Translation from Margot Speak: My firstborn is going to be here soon, my second born is showing later tonight, and my last born is driving up first thing in the morning so I have a million things to do. Hit the road.
“Just wanna make sure you’re all good. Lots of folks hitting your place, you need anything?” I asked.
“I had everything sorted last week, Adeline, but thank you for offering.”
I studied her face.
She looked no different.
But she was a dab hand with makeup and never had a hair out of place, so that didn’t mean anything.
I didn’t know how to say it seemed Dave and she were sniping at each other, that I’d never heard Dave speak to her in the tone he’d used earlier, or even thought he was capable of it due to the fact he worshiped the ground she walked on, and that there was something off about this required-attendance wedding me
eting the day before Christmas Eve.
Especially when the date was set, the church was scheduled, the reception venue was booked, Macy and the bakery had preliminary deposits to save the date for whatever Eliza chose, and come January, we had nearly seven and a half months to sort out the rest.
“Are you and Tobias all right?”
Her question made me focus on her.
Her question also made me smile at her.
“Yeah, Margot, we’re great.”
She smiled back at me, reached out and took my hand.
“I knew he’d choose someone like you,” she said softly. “Full of vim and vigor and vivacity and audacity. Just like Eliza with Johnny, you not only match his spirit, you complement his soul.”
I stood in her foyer with her, my fingers curled around hers, and stared in her eyes, warmth rushing through me.
“I love that you think that,” I whispered.
“I like to think that God had a hand, linking me to your mother. He did this so she raised you girls to suit my boys, and I raised my boys to suit her girls.”
Oh hell.
I was going to cry.
“None of that, Adeline,” she gently chided, shaking our hands. “Everyone is happy. Smiles. Just smiles. Yes, my beautiful girl?”
Was she happy?
I didn’t ask.
And I didn’t ask even if I didn’t see that normal Margot Light warming her eyes.
I smiled at her again and said the only thing I could.
“Yes, Margot.”
“Now,” she guided me to their door, “you enjoy tonight. And remember, once my brood leaves, Dave and I are always happy to take Brooks. In the first blush of love, getting to know each other, it’s good to have times like tonight. Don’t ever hesitate. I feel thirty years younger, having a baby in the house.”
“You have my boy in your house a lot now, Margot,” I reminded her.
She shook my hand again, this time once, firmly. “And I’m grateful for it. Adeline, you’ve had cause to know me well. And with what you know, do you think I’d ever say something I didn’t mean, especially about something as important as Brooks?”
She would not.
“Toby and me kinda like having him around,” I replied. “But I also love having nights like this with Toby, so I’ll take you up on that, and you promise to share if it ever gets too much.”
She put her free hand over her heart. “I promise.”
I shook our hands then, after kissing her cheek before letting her go, grabbed my coat that was on a hook by her door, put it on and blew her another kiss on my way out the door.
She stood in the doorway and we both waved at each other until I was coasting away.
I drove to Toby’s and hit the garage door opener he gave me the morning after the night I’d spent at his house, my phone beginning to ring before I shut the car down.
I took it out, saw I didn’t know the number, but since I’d put in a few applications the last couple of weeks, and interviewed last week at the law firm, I took the call.
“Hello?”
“Adeline?”
“Yes.”
“This is Marlon Martin. At Martin, Sandberg and Deats.”
Oh God.
This could be good.
Or it could suck.
“Hello, Mr. Martin.”
“Please, call me Marlon, and I’m happy to be making this call as my partners and I would like to offer you the receptionist position here at the firm.”
I banged my fist with glee against the ceiling of my car, but my voice was cool when I replied, “That’s great news, Marlon. I’m thrilled.”
“Excellent, I’ll email you the offer. Have a look, take the holiday, but if you could get back to us on Monday with your decision. Our current receptionist will be leaving us the third week in January, so we need to move swiftly.”
“I can do that, Marlon. And thank you. You’ve made my day.”
“Delighted to hear that, Adeline. My secretary is sending the offer just now. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you too.”
We hung up. I hauled ass out of my car, grabbed my bag from the passenger seat, then scooted into the house, hitting the garage door button.
I dropped the bag right there and phoned Toby.
“So you survived the mandatory wedding meeting,” he said in greeting. “Or is this an SOS call?”
“I got the job at the law firm!” I yelled.
“No shit?” he asked, a smile in his voice.
“Yes!” I confirmed. “They’re sending an offer letter just now.”
“Brilliant, baby,” he murmured.
“This is great. This is amazing,” I chanted, doing a little jig. “I mean, I know how to use a computer and a phone, but I don’t have any office experience, except that time I worked for six months in patient billing at a doctor’s office. But that bummed me out since it was oncology, so I didn’t stay. Toby! I can’t believe it!”
“Cool, baby. Told him to give you a shot. Glad he’s doin’ that.”
I was about to do another jig.
I didn’t.
“Sorry?”
“I know Marlon. He was a couple of years before Johnny in school, but he played football since he was a kid, and Dad was involved in Pop Warner, and he and Johnny played on the same team in high school. So I’ve known him a long time. He was getting some gas at the garage last week, saw him, walked out, had a chat.”
“You . . .” I swallowed hard, “had a chat.”
“Babe—”
“So I didn’t earn that job? I got it because I’m fucking a Gamble brother?”
“Addie—”
“No, unh-unh. No.”
Toby went silent.
I stared at his kickass great room.
All wood and windows with comfy, macho-man leather furniture, a big kitchen (that was a lot more wood, but with stainless steel appliances) that was totally open to the space, running flat against the back wall with a long island in between.
It looked like a dude purchased it four months ago. A dude who had been a drifter before that, and hadn’t gotten down to roosting, so there wasn’t a lot of personality.
But even me, the minimal decorator, saw the potential.
The whole place was sweet.
But the master bedroom upstairs was what it was all about. Two full walls of windows, a corner fireplace, a private balcony you got to through French doors, and with the flora outside, it was like sleeping in a tree house.
A luxury one.
If the choice came about mingling households officially, I’d pick Toby’s place for Brooks and me to live. It was only two bedrooms (and a loft on the third story), probably smaller in square footage, but it was more me than the acres.
Him and me.
And the retro Christmas lights and the wreath would still work.
“You got a lock on that?” Toby growled into the string of thoughts I let myself have rather than losing my fucking mind.
But he was growling, and not the good way.
Okay . . .
How could he be pissed?
“Toby—”
“That’s the way shit gets done, oh, I don’t know, pretty much fuckin’ everywhere,” he bit out.
I was absolutely not a fan of the sarcasm.
I did not get the chance to share this.
Toby kept at me.
“You know somebody, you put in a good word. Trust me, every applicant for that position, if they knew somebody who knew Martin or Sandberg or Deats, and they caught one of them, they did the same.”
“Okay, but—”
He spoke over me.
“This isn’t small-town shit. This isn’t Gamble brothers shit. This is what you do. You need that job. You wanted that job. It’s decent pay. Good insurance. Steady hours. In Matlock. They would not hire you if you didn’t impress them. They’re not morons. And I didn’t offer them free oil changes for life. I said you were a hard worke
r. Smart as fuck. And he’d be able to count on you. I absolutely mentioned you were mine, so he could read from that that I got you, so it isn’t about pity for the single mom. But you’re a Gamble and my father coached him in Pop Warner. So this is also about respect and history. I did not lay it on thick, but he understood me. And that’s it, Addie.”
“You got me?”
“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered.
My voice was rising, and yes, it was perhaps a little hysterical when I asked, “I’m a Gamble?”
“You at my place yet?”
“Yes.”
“Right now, walk to the guest room,” he ordered angrily.
“Why?”
“Do it, Adeline.”
I walked up the stairs to the guest room.
The door was closed.
I opened it.
One wall of windows. Much smaller. Its own bathroom.
And right then it was partially filled with a crib and a baby dresser and changing table.
There wasn’t a lot of personality there either.
Except the most adorable crib skirt, the mattress covered in a baby-blue sheet, and there was a blanket over the railing on the side that was like the skirt—blue bears, some black arrows and teepees, all on white.
“You there?” Toby demanded in my ear.
“Yes,” I forced out.
“Surprise. And Merry Christmas.”
I closed my eyes.
“Now, are you a fucking Gamble?” he asked.
“Toby.”
“What are we doin’ here? Tell me, Addie. Are you just fuckin’ a Gamble brother?”
Okay, I’d apparently hit a nerve with that.
“I just wanted it to be about them wanting to hire me.”
“And again, if they didn’t want you, they wouldn’t have hired you. But like you said, you have little experience in an office and I just wanted to remind them that historical ties bind if it was between you and someone else. You might have knocked their socks off. You have a way of doing that. You’re confident and radiate ‘I’m a chick who can get shit done.’ But in the end, does it fuckin’ matter? ’Cause in the end, you got the fuckin’ job.”
He was right.
And that sucked.
“I’m sorry, Tobe, my response wasn’t cool.”
“You got pride. Shit has been so copacetic with us lately, I forgot your independent streak. Which is not a bad thing for you to have, and it’s part of why I fell for you, just that I can’t forget it and gotta have a mind to it. So I should have told you I saw him and put in a word. Though, Addie, the minute you mentioned that job, I was already thinking of doing that. So I should have told you then.”
The Slow Burn (Moonlight and Motor Oil Series Book 2) Page 23