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But that wasn’t what they wanted, and I wanted them happy.
The chime of the bell over the door—melodic and chic, just like everything else in Roast—rang softly through the shop.
Harriet, our wedding planner, rushed over to the table. “So sorry I’m late.”
Her windbreaker was wet, the beaded water falling on my arm as she dropped into her chair.
I didn’t miss my hometown a lot, but at least June felt like summer. Despite it being the middle of the month, the skies were gray, and I had to go back in the house for a coat that morning.
“I have good news and bad news,” Harriet said, grimacing as she pulled papers out of her own Big Daddy.
I watched Bash and Em tense, and my nerves skyrocketed. I should have insisted on sitting in the middle. While I was okay with this wedding going however it went, the two people I loved most in the world had a lot riding on the most minute details. As soon as Harriet said bad news, my arms itched to pull them both in close, but I couldn’t. I could only scoot my cumbersome chair closer to Em and give Bash a reassuring smile.
He frowned and turned his attention to Harriet. “What’s the bad news?”
Harriet worried her lower lip between her teeth and slipped a folder out of her binder. “The venue was double booked.”
Em’s mouth fell open and Bash sat forward. I stretched across Em’s lap and put my hand on Bash’s knee. It temporarily distracted him while he took a second to think. He was never intentionally rude, but sometimes he needed a moment before he responded with something surly.
“What’s the good news?” I asked.
Harriet’s shoulders sagged in relief when Em and Bash kept their mouths shut. This wasn’t the first bit of bad news she had given us and the two of them were too invested to handle any setbacks reasonably. I was invested, too, but solely in the marriage. The wedding truly didn’t matter to me as long as the three of us got to say our vows and ride off into the sunset together.
I hadn’t told them that, though. I wasn’t sure how it would go over. If maybe they’d think I wasn’t as invested, when that was the furthest thing from the truth.
“Your second venue, the one at the lily gardens, has an opening for your date.” She handed me a piece of paper detailing the cost and logistics.
Passing the paper to Em, I watched her face go from frustration to hopeful. “We can make this work. There’s enough space for our guests.”
“But lilies?” Sebastian was never as easily convinced.
“Lilies are pretty flowers, Bardot.”
“Michael, it’ll be August.” He said this like I didn’t know when our wedding was, so I stuck my tongue out and he scowled. “Most of them will be bloomed out.”
Okay, that part I didn’t know.
Harriet cleared her throat. “The gardens have a variety of flowers that will be in bloom.”
We both looked at Em, following her lead. We had a sort of hierarchy that had naturally occurred during the planning process. Sebastian was the most vocal. I wasn’t invested in what the wedding would end up looking like, so I kept my thoughts to myself. And we both deferred to Emily when a final decision had to be made.
“What do you say, Pink?”
She turned her bottomless blue eyes in my direction. “I love the gardens.”
“The gardens it is.” I pressed my palms to my thighs and motioned to Big Daddy. “Is there anything else we have to go over today?”
Harriet shook her head and slid her binder back into her bag. “Hiccups are normal when planning a wedding. We’re just getting them all out now, apparently.”
I could tell her smile was supposed to be reassuring, but it completely missed the mark.
She shuffled out of the café and Bash at least had the decency to wait until she crossed the street before he groaned and covered his face.
“This is a disaster.”
“I don’t care where we get married,” Em crooned, rubbing his arm the best she could over the armchair’s bulk.
“I want this to be perfect,” he admitted.
