Page 74 of Playing It Forward

With a start, I realize I want this family now. I don’t want to wait. I can’t wait. I can’t lose Terri. She’s my endgame.

Chapter 24

It’s difficult to argue with a man while he’s carrying you to bed.

Terri

I groan when my phone rings. I’m ready for this day to be over. I check the time. It’s seven, and I don’t have an event tonight. The day should be over already.

My phone rings again to remind me my day is never over when I’m planning a wedding. And I’m always planning a wedding. I am an event planner after all.

“Good evening, Brittany.” I emphasize evening in the hope she’ll realize it’s too late to call.

“Terri, I have some requests we need to discuss.” Nope. No clue it’s too late to call. Not even an ‘I’m sorry for calling so late’. Brides and their little bridal bubbles will be the death of me.

I stifle a yawn. “We already discussed your requests. Are these additional requests?”

“We missed a few.” Missed a few? Hardly. She’s probably been spending time on social media where she got a bunch of crazy ideas. “First of all, I want all the guests to release glitter into the ocean simultaneously.”

Crazy ideas, it is.

“Glitter in the ocean?”

“They make biodegradable glitter. I read about it.”

The issue is not whether the glitter is biodegradable.

“You do realize glitter gets everywhere and there’s usually a breeze along the water. Which means the likelihood of guests getting glitter in their eyes and other places is extremely high.”

Has she never been glitter bombed before? Glitter is a miracle product that multiplies when no one is paying attention.

“Don’t care. I want it. I saw it on TikTok.”

Social media strikes again. I scribble a note. “I’ll see what I can do. Have a—”

She cuts me off. “I’m not done.” Of course not.

“What else?”

“I read there’s a seal named Sammy on Smuggler’s Hideaway.”

“There is.”

“He should deliver the rings.”

How I’d love to see Sammy deliver rings at a wedding. He’d galumph down the aisle before swallowing the rings and taking a nap on the bride’s feet.

“Sammy is a wild animal.”

“Animals are trainable.”

“Sammy is not. The likelihood he’ll steal the rings is high. Or he’ll plain not show up because he’s too busy sunbathing on his favorite spot of grass.”

“You could hire an animal trainer to arrange it.”

Animal trainer? I nearly growl. The smugglers would tar and feather me if I hired an animal trainer for Sammy.

“I’m sorry, Brittany. This is one request I can’t grant.”