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“Right.” She laughed, throwing back her head. “By the way, I’m glad you took the afternoon off yesterday. You work too much.”
“So do you.”
“Because I have to, not because I want to.” She sliced the air with her spatula like a swashbuckling heroine with a sword. “Wait, that came out wrong. I mean, you’re the owner and the boss, whereas I’m just your employee.”
Thad’s appearance in the doorway saved me from having to think of a response. My youngest brother greeted us all with a distracted smile while running his hands through his wavy dark hair. “We might have a problem. I just saw a helicopter fly overhead.”
“Photographers?” I asked.
“I’m thinking so,” Thad said. “I wish they’d just leave Annie alone. It’s not right.”
“She says it’s all part of being an actress,” Elliot said. “People want to know about her personal life.”
“It’s true, but that doesn’t make it right,” Thad said.
“I had a bad feeling they’d figure out the wedding location somehow,” Elliot said. “They always seem to know where she is.”
The exchanging of vows would be done under Atticus’s covered patio. Afterward, the small wedding party and guests would all come to the restaurant for the reception. “We just have to get her over here from Atticus’s without them getting a photo.”
“How are we going to do that?” Thad asked.
“We’ll have to do the best we can to shield her,” I said. “Maybe an umbrella?”
“That’s a great idea,” Elliot said, pointing at me with her spatula once again. “At least an umbrella would hide her face.”
“The whole thing makes me mad,” Thad said. “I want them to have the wedding they dreamed of. Uninterrupted.”
“Without the vultures taking photos of a wedding they’re not invited to,” I said.
Thad rubbed his face with the palms of his hands and drew in a deep breath. “We’ll do the best we can. That’s the only choice we have. I’m going over to Atticus’s now to see how they’re doing. Mama and Celeste are helping Annie get ready—mother and maid of honor stuff. Apparently, that takes a while. But Atticus might need some moral support. Unless you two could use me for anything?”
“No, we’re good,” I said.
Before Thad could leave, Sammie arrived, carrying Chloe on her hip.
“Hey, Sam,” I said. “Miss Chloe.”
Chloe beamed back at me but didn’t say anything. She was a quiet child by nature. I worried about how little she spoke. Was it normal? Or within the range? I had no idea, and it certainly wasn’t my place to bring it up to Sammie.
“How’s it going here?” Sammie asked. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m just about to go over to the house to check on the groom,” Thad said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as if to keep them still.
“Good idea,” Sammie said. “Grooms get as nervous as brides. Or at least—” She cut herself off, flushing. “I found a sitter for later tonight, but I can help out if you don’t mind this one tagging along.”
Chloe buried her face in her mother’s neck. She looked a lot like Sammie, with the same delicate features and white-blond hair. Today, Chloe wore a tiny pair of jeans and a pink sweater about the same hue as the peonies. Her fair hair had been parted and made into two ponytails that stuck out from either side of her head like little horns.
“If you’re serious, I could really use someone to get the dining room ready for the reception,” I said.
Sammie’s face lit up. “Really? I’d love to.”
“There are tons of flowers for the tables,” Elliot said, looking up from poking straws into the cake. Soon, she would stick the stems of the flowers inside the small tubes so the blossoms stayed put. “They’re in the cooler to keep them fresh.”
“I brought some things to keep Chloe occupied,” Sammie said. “So I can get to work right away.”
“Clock in,” I said. “I want to pay you for your help.”
“As much as I’d love to take you up on your offer, I must say no.” Sammie set a wriggling Chloe down onto the floor.
