Page 6 of Some Kinda Romance

3

DASH

As I’d expected, the meeting with Serenity had already been set and I had gotten roped into it. Parking in front of my mother’s house, I jogged up to the front door. She walked out just as I arrived, and I offered her my arm.

“Good morning, Mother,” I said, leaning in to brush a kiss against her cheek.

“Good morning, honey.” She slid her hand into the crook of my elbow and followed me back down the stairs toward my car.

I’d parked right in front of the sweeping staircase leading from the wide, double front doors, and I helped her into the passenger seat, then waited until she buckled up before walking around the car. She’d raised me to be a gentleman, and when it came to her, that was exactly what I was, but this morning, I also just needed as much time as I could buy myself not to have to talk about the wedding.

Inside, I was still fuming, still pissed at her for springing this on us and then not even wanting to do it on the grounds she and my father had developed for this specific type of event. As it turned out, the few moments extra I’d given myself meant nothing.

We’d barely reached the intricate metal gates at the edge of her property before I glanced at her. “Why couldn’t you just do it at the estate? I know everything there is to know about that place already and it’s beautiful out there. Why choose a different venue?”

My mother wasn’t the type of person who angered quickly, having left that particular gene for Zach and me, but a slight flush spread on her cheeks now. Her gray-blonde hair was twisted into an elegant chignon and her makeup was as perfectly applied as always, but the calm exterior couldn’t hide the flash of disappoint and hurt in her eyes.

“I married your father in that building, Dash. I know it’s beautiful. That’s why I had my first wedding there, but excuse me for not wanting to marry another man at the same place.”

Well, shit. I guess that’s as good a reason as I could’ve asked for. I even kind of got it. Not saying anything about it after that, I pulled off their property once the gates had swung open and tried to focus my mind on the task ahead.

Understanding didn’t mean I was a fan of the idea. While I knew now why she’d chosen a different venue, it wouldn’t make it easier to coordinate a wedding like this with a company whose CEO was completely green.

“Do you want to tell me what you had in mind?” I asked as we got onto the freeway. “It might help if we know exactly what to discuss with them when we arrive.”

“Of course,” she said, glancing at me and finally perking up a bit again. “We don’t want anything too big. Two hundred guests at most.”

My jaw slackened, a frown mashing my eyebrows together. “Two hundred? You realize that’s only one hundred couples, right?”

“Right.” I felt her steady, unwavering gaze on the side of my face. “We’ll revisit that number if we have to, but ideally, we’d like to keep it as close to that as possible. Fifty couples each.”

We were definitely going to have to revisit that number, but I knew better than to argue with a bride at this stage of the planning process. Even if the bride was my very own mother.

At a relatively early age, I’d discovered that I was pretty damn good at organization. I liked things to be ordered. Precise. It was just the way my mind worked. As a result, I never missed a detail. My brain refused to let me. I didn’t care about the type of flower chosen or the exact shade of pink required for a napkin, but once I’d been told, I never forgot and I couldn’t stop until it was all exactly the way it was supposed to be.

I also wasn’t easily rattled. In fact, I wasn’t sure I’d ever been rattled and I worked best under extreme pressure. Because of all that, I’d organized my first event at the estate at age sixteen. It’d been Zachary’s eighteen birthday party and it’d been a hit.

The very next day, I’d started working for my father as an event planner. Informally, of course, but I’d officially taken over that arm of St. Clair Enterprises when I’d turned twenty-one. Twelve years was a long time learning to deal with people who were constantly stressed about what they perceived to be the biggest day of their lives.

So I wouldn’t argue with my mother about anything. Instead, I’d gradually lead her to the light and help her see it for herself. I didn’t have much of a sense of humor, but what I lacked in that department, I made up for in quiet determination and patience.

“Alright, Mom. Fifty couples each. What else?”

“I don’t want to see a white flower,” she said suddenly, sniffing once as her voice became softer. “We only had white roses at the funeral. Absolutely no white flowers.”

“You got it,” I agreed. “You are going to have to send me lists of all of this, though. I won’t forget, but I do like to have it on paper for everyone else.”

Stress made other people forget. Not me, but others? Absolutely. “Oh, I know, baby. We’re just talking about it.”

The rest of the way to Serenity’s offices, we spoke about it. I listened intently to what she was saying, making mental notes of all the things I was going to have to discuss with her at some point. Not today, but that was only because today was about getting the broad strokes—and a feel for the woman I would be planning the wedding with.

I quietly sighed as I parked in the VIP spot outside the building. It was a gaudy glass-fronted monstrosity with absolutely no character, completely unable to compare to the estate, but it was modern and I supposed the view from the top would probably be decent.

Keeping my mouth shut, I climbed out of the car. Pulling my sunglasses off my eyes, I glanced at the venue my mother had chosen. As I turned to open the door for her, I ran into Serenity Halverson.

Literally.

She and I collided next to my car and she fell into my chest, sending her bag to the ground. At least I caught her before she followed. I recognized her as soon as she looked up at me, and instantly, I noticed that she was a lot more beautiful in person than she was onscreen.