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Theo—though I think I like Mr. Sexy better—scoffs again, though it's almost silent.
“You don’t agree?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow at him. He has yet to say anything friendly and I do not appreciate his cynicism.
“You can believe whatever you want to believe, darlin’. But it's not luck. It's happening because some poor sap got his little heart broken and lost his exorbitant deposit.”
Alyssa and I stare at him open mouthed before gaping at each other, unable to believe his tirade. Suddenly he's not so attractive.
“Theo Spencer!” Alyssa gasps dramatically, one hand flying up and covering her heart. “I can't believe you just said that. Go check your sports scores on your phone and leave us to plan everything without your dickishness.”
We watch him shake his head before sauntering off to sit on the small window seat at the front of the shop. I deriving secret glee as he scowls at a sunbeam shining through the clean glass, hitting the prisms and sending hundreds of shimmering rainbows across his body.
“I am so sorry, Libby. Just ignore him,” she begs, leaning on the counter to whisper conspiratorially. “He's got a few hangups about weddings. He's only standing in for Pete today because he was promised a bottle of his favorite whiskey.”
“I heard that,” he growls. “And it's not true.”
“No, I get it. You don't have to love weddings, but keep your karma out of my shop,” I call back, earning a giggle from Alyssa
“So why did you bring Mr. Grumpy instead of your bridesmaids? Or even your fiance?” I ask, unable to contain my curiosity.
“Pete's got finals and my bridesmaids all live out of state. I only moved here a little over a year ago for work. Besides,” she says, looking over her shoulder at Theo. “Pete already has a suit, but Theo needs one, and this way we kill two birds with one tiny little stone. And lord knows what he'd end up picking out if I'm not along to point him in the right direction.”
“Mustard yellow with a burgundy stripe,” he drawls, watching us from across the room. And suddenly, I can't imagine anything sexier than mustard yellow trousers in a pile on the floor.
“I wouldn't risk looking like a sunflower during an outdoor wedding,” I tease, grinning wickedly as his scowl deepens.
“And why the hell not?” he snaps.
“Bees.”
Alyssa erupts into peals of laughter as his eyes narrow into slits and he glares at me.
“They wouldn't dare.”
The way he says it, so matter of factly, makes me grin back at him, daring him to say something else.
“Anyway,” Alyssa says, claiming my attention and breaking my silent, intense stare off with Theo. “I like the shades in this, but I was looking online and the peonies come in all shades. What do you think if we did the prettiest little blush pink for the center, then deep red roses?”
I nod, picturing it in my head.
“Then smaller ones for my bridesmaids, and just a single rose boutonniere for the groomsmen. There are seven of each.”
I gasp, making Theo chuckle at my shock.
“I know, I know. But three are my sisters and the other four were in my sorority, so they're practically family.”
“That's a lot of moving pieces for such a rapidly approaching wedding,” I muse, mentally flipping through my contacts, wondering how many people would attend my wedding, let alone participate.
“They've known for months that Pete and I are endgame,” she says emphatically. “And to make things a little easier, we're having them pick a black dress in just about any style.”
“That sounds like a good way to make it a little easier on yourself,” I say. “And, because your request isn't super complicated, I can definitely squeeze you in. I'll make the arrangements the night before and my assistant can deliver them and set up at the Grotto day of.”
I start entering information into the system to schedule her when she grips my wrist in both of her petite hands, startling me.
“No, Libby. I need you. Not an assistant. I'm sure she's fantastic, but I need you there. Come to the wedding. Do your setup and everything, but come as our guest. Please?”
I gape at her—seemingly all I'm capable of doing these days—while an internal debate rages inside me.
Be brave, Libby, the devil on one shoulder says. Find a man. Have a little fun for the night.
