Page 18 of The Mood Board

Chapter 8

Bailey

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“SO YOU WILL HAVE THEreception under the arbor in the garden?” The woman before me checked her tablet, scrolling through the information from our last meeting.

Liam and I had found the place in our search for the perfect venue for our wedding, and it was everything I had imagined: sprawling, with lush gardens and space for both a ceremony and the reception. A friend of Liam’s had clued us into the private, and exclusive, estate. Though he hadn’t told me, I knew Liam’s money and name had gotten us a spot on our wedding day. And in this case, I was okay with it.

Today was our first meeting to begin planning all the specifics, and, at the prospect, I felt better than I had in days.

Looking out at the space where he and I would be married, I took a deep breath of the clean air, vibrant with foliage, grass, and flowers. The flourishing, rolling garden looked over the vineyard behind the estate, rows upon rows of vines stretching toward the hazy, dusky hills in the distance. It was all framed by the arbor, wreathed in flowering, leafy vines, under which we would meet and say our vows to one another, surrounded by friends and family.

Just the thought almost brought tears to my eyes.

“Yes,” I answered enthusiastically, wishing our wedding day was tomorrow.

The woman nodded, unfazed by my excitement—she seemed unmoved by almost everything—and continued to scroll through her tablet. “Very good. We will review the specifics later, but I believe Mr. Bradford’s assistant emailed over the guest list, so we have a rough idea of how many chairs we will need.”

The woman made a note on her tablet and continued to scroll.

“We’ll also go over specific flowers you want—you know we have a list of preferred vendors.” She flicked her attention to me.

“I do, and we’ve met with most of them.” I nodded, still only half listening as I continued to dream about our ceremony.

“Will you be dressing here?” the woman asked.

I nodded again, looking back at the enormous villa, built at the turn of the 19th century by some prominent media baron. Marble mixed with sandstone mixed with soaring columns and graceful domes. My assistant, Kristen, who had joined us for the initial tour to take notes, had gushed that the photos would be amazing, and I had to agree.

“Yes.” I added the audible agreement to my physical one.

“And your fiancé?” the woman asked.

“He will, too. I believe.”

Liam and I hadn’t set the details in stone yet, waiting for this meeting today. But he had yet to show up. He had texted me saying he would be a few minutes late, but glancing at my watch told me he was almost twenty minutes behind schedule, which wasn’t like him.

It wasn’t until we had moved on to the reception area that Liam finally appeared.

“Sorry I’m late,” he called, his hair slightly mussed from his rush.

I didn’t care. I was just glad that Liam was here with me. We rarely got to spend time together in the middle of a weekday.

But my elation at seeing him quickly turned to dismay as another figure came into view after him—Janelle.

Sex the other night and the fact that I didn’t have to see the other woman every day helped lift some of the chaos from my mind. Seeing her again, though, knocked me back.

Today, she had dressed in a cream pantsuit that set off her red hair, her eyes hidden behind stylish sunglasses. She looked like she belonged here, especially next to Liam and the easy way he wore his linen suit.

For once, I had worn a dress instead of my usual black pencil skirt, intent on playing the part of the blushing bride. But suddenly, I felt plain and out of place beside the smartly dressed people around me. They were the ones who belonged here, not me.

Liam reached us first, and his kiss was a quick peck on the cheek, part greeting and part apology. “Sorry I’m late. I got held up in my last meeting.”

“It’s okay. I handled it,” I said, forcing a smile for him I didn’t feel, trying to regain the balance Janelle’s appearance had thrown me from. But I couldn’t help asking, “Why is she here?”

I tried to keep my tone polite, kind, light, but she wasn’t at all involved in the wedding. Janelle hadn’t been with the company for even a month, and she certainly hadn’t received an invitation to the wedding—this was about us and our day.

“Oh, when I told her about our meeting today, Janelle said she’s friends with the owner and knows everyone here. She said she could help us with this whole thing,” Liam replied brightly.