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Warmth spread from my chest up my throat. “Well, that doesn’t sound too bad.”
“See?” He crossed the room and hugged me from behind, distracting me with a kiss on the side of my neck. “Wedding traditions can be fun. You’ll be dressed up like a cupcake and I’ll get to claim you through all that crinoline and lace.” His hand cupped my boob possessively and I sank into his hold. “My bride.”
Sensing he was trying to distract me, I squirmed out of his arms. “Calm your loins or we’ll never get done.” I held up the cards. “Girls are in pink and boys are lavender.”
“Why not blue for boys?”
“Because traditional colors create a gender stereotypes, and our wedding will be a progressively freeing affair.” I pointed to myself, the most non-bride bride in the history of womankind. “Obviously.”
“But you kept the girls pink?”
“Look, Elara’s craft kit consists of finger paint and stamps. I had limited options and we’re never going to get done if we don’t focus.”
“Gotcha.”
I handed him a huge pile of cards that wasn’t even half the guests. “Start with these.”
He paged through the stack. “What am I doing with them?”
“We’re arranging them in groups of ten. That’s how many guests can sit at one table. Where are you going?”
“To get more wine. No way I’m getting through this sober.”
“Might as well crack open another bottle to breathe.” I looked down at the cards in my hand and mumbled, “Because this is going to take all night.”
Hale began spreading out names on the carpet as I worked on a cross-referencing system, something to identify sub-categories of guests so I had a better idea of who the hell these people were. We used mermaid stamps for Naomi’s friends and anchor stamps for Remington’s. Politicians got an American flag stamp, and business associates got butterflies.
“Who’s Lucian and Evelyn Patras?” I asked, taking my job as card-marker very seriously.
“Business associates. You can put them with Shamus Callahan and Lucian’s two sisters. Their names escape me at the moment.”
“We’re inviting people whose names you can’t remember?”
“I know their names, I’ve just had a lot of wine.”
I shuffled through the pile. “Antoinette Patras and Isadora Patras?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“Uh-oh.”
“What uh-oh?”
I read the back of Isadora’s card. “It says here that Isadora’s husband and brother don’t get along.”
“That’s old news.”
“This came from your father.”
“Well, he’s old. He doesn’t keep up with that sort of thing. Sit them together. They’ll be fine. And put Slade Bishop at that table too.”
“That leaves three more seats.”
Hale stood like a giant over a sea of scattered index cards appearing overwhelmed and ready to bolt. His fingers forked through his hair, leaving it standing on end. “Why is this so difficult?”
“Because someone wanted an enormous wedding.” I took no pity on him. This was his doing, not mine.
“This is like trying to solve an impossible puzzle. Too many people have too many damn enemies. Can’t they just suck it up for one night?”
