“You’ll head the committee, of course,” she said. “But I’m in charge of communications.”
Weston repressed an eye roll, and I had to stifle a laugh. Yeah, I had no doubt that the biggest busybody I’d ever metexcelledat running communications.
“So any phone numbers or email addresses you need, just check with me.”
“Sounds good,” I said.
“And that over there is Aiden. He leads the setup and teardown teams. Oh, and this is Isla,” she said, catching a woman with a wave.
“Hey,” Isla said. “Nice to meet you.” She was younger than a lot of the committee members, with long blonde hair and a warm smile. Her accent was softer than Weston’s, and when she shook my hand, I knew instantly that we could be friends. “I’m in charge of the festival’s social media, and I’m the photographer of the day’s events. Other than that, I mostly just help where needed.”
“A jack-of-all-trades,” Jo said with a nod.
“And master of none. Well, maybe one. My aunt left me her top-secret cheese scone recipe. I don’t want to jinx it,” Isla playfully whispered, “but I’m pretty sure I’ve got a first-place ribbon in the bag.”
“Can’t wait to try one,” I said.
She beamed at me.
“You’re just trying to get out of the haggis tasting,” Weston murmured next to me.
My lips twitched.
Isla squeezed my arm. “I promise it’s so much better than you’re imagining.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I said as Jo pushed us toward the front of the hall where a low-lying stage was set up.
“You two get situated up there. I’ll go round up the few stragglers from the street.”
As Jo hurried off, Weston hooked his arm through mine, leading me to the stage where a table and chairs were set up. The walls all around us were adorned with community photos—uniformedmen with kilts and bagpipes, smiling faces next to Highland cattle, storefronts, weddings, birthday celebrations.
“You excited for your weekend with Tess?” Weston asked as we sat down.
“And the rest of the bridal party,” I reminded him. Weston had kept his promise to fly everyone out for a whirlwind weekend in Paris. Tess was so excited that she’d set a countdown, and I’d been getting pings the closer we got to it, which was a good thing. As much as I was looking forward to it, I was being run ragged with everything I was doing for Weston. I needed the reminder. “I’m sure it’s going to be a wild time.” Pampering, sightseeing, eating too much food, spending time with my bestie…I was ready for all of it.
“What’s the plan? Drink until you drop? That’s usually how a hen do ends, isn’t it?”
“I forgot you called them that,” I said. “For one, I can hold my liquor. And two, Tess will be too busy being amazed by Paris to get that drunk.” I knew my best friend, and I knew she wouldn’t want to waste one second in Paris being too inebriated to remember the trip. Not that the bridal party wouldn’t try. “Her impression of you has mildly improved seeing as you’ve kept your promise.”
“Mildly!” he said, whipping around in his chair to gape at me. “I got you all into Le Tout-Paris! At sunset! Do you know how impossible it is to get reservations there?”
“I figured.” The lounge was perched atop the ultra-luxurious Cheval-Blanc hotel with sweeping views over the Seine, Notre-Dame, and the Eiffel Tower. It was gorgeous in all the photos, and most importantly, Tess would have a blast, totally makingup for me not being able to do a week of margaritas on the beach. “But thank you for arranging it. Tess is going to love it.”
Weston grumbled, flipping open a file, clearly still put out that Tess didn’t think he walked on water.
I chuckled. “She’s still a little miffed that I married you, that’s all.”
“Areyou?” he wondered.
Was I? When I’d said yes, I’d felt so ambivalent about the whole thing. While I’d been fully aware of all the benefits I’d receive, I’d also still been stinging from his original trainwreck of a proposal. But at this point, those moments felt a million miles away. And now…
What now?
Nothing. It was still just a temporary situation, and that was for the best. Something permanent wasn’t in the cards for me—I’d learned my lesson on that score and refused to hold out hope that this time…or any time would be different.
“Lena?” he said.
“Well, if I hadn’t married you, I’d never have been accosted by a Shetland pony,” I said sarcastically. “So do with that what you will.”
