Page 19 of Some Kinda Romance

9

DASH

Driving to Serenity’s offices with my mother and Richard had been a mistake. I sat in the backseat while Richard drove, listening to her go on and on all the way back to her house about how much she loved Serenity.

“She just always makes me feel so taken care of,” she gushed with a wide smile on her face. “So understood. Do you know how many wedding planners wouldn’t have taken this seriously? At our age, some people think we’re silly for wanting to get married, or that it’s not a big deal because it’s not our first rodeo.”

“You were looking at other wedding planners?” I asked dryly, even if I had to admit that Serenity was growing on even me at this point. “It’s almost like you don’t have the best one in the city sitting right here.”

Twisting in the passenger seat to look back at me, she laughed and shrugged one shoulder. “You know what I mean, honey. I just appreciate the effort she makes for us and how she doesn’t make me feel like an afterthought bride.”

“An afterthought bride?” I frowned. “You’re Diana St. Clair. Anyone who treats you like an afterthought isn’t giving you the respect you deserve.”

“Yet, many people looked down on us when we first contacted them about venues,” she said, glancing at Richard. “Tell him, honey. Tell him about that guy who laughed when he found out you were the groom and not the father of the groom.”

A pang shot through me. “Is that true?”

Richard grunted, shaking his head as he shrugged. “When you get to a certain age, it doesn’t matter so much who you are, son. Some people still think you’re stupid or that you’ve lost your mind. We only checked out a couple other venues before we decided on Serenity’s, but our overall experience before wasn’t positive. She’s doing a wonderful job, though. I’m glad we found her.”

My eyes narrowed, but as I shoved my hands into my hair and pulled back, I guessed I could see how that might’ve been true. I’d had a few older couples in my time. Quite a lot actually, but many of even my own staff treated them differently.

Mom wasn’t wrong. Weddings for older people were sometimes regarded as an afterthought. As somehow less important than those of the twenty-something monster-brides with their outlandish ideas and loud demands.

“Well, whoever they were that made you feel that way, they’re idiots,” I said, turning to look out the window as Richard got off the freeway.

With the ocean in the distance, I thought back to our meeting with Serenity and the way she’d silently checked in with me while Mom had been talking about my dad—even indirectly. Too many people these days were desensitized to the hurt of others, and I counted myself among that number.

I never sympathized. Never empathized. Trauma, grief, and loss were a part of life. As was death. It had always simply been something that the bereaved had to live with, but after that meeting, I wondered if I’d ever cared about a client the way Serenity did.

I liked that about her, the way she treated my mother and even myself with understanding and respect. It had made the experience more tolerable for me and I doubted I had ever done that for any of our clients.

After my talk with my mom the other day, I’d made my peace with her impending nuptials. I was even happy for her now, but it still didn’t make the thought of her actually marrying another man any easier. Yet Serenity had softened the blow.

We arrived back at my mother’s house. I said my goodbyes and immediately got into my own car to get back to my office. Serenity was still front and center in my mind, though. All the way to the estate, I thought about her and how beautiful she’d looked this morning—and how unusual it was for me to be thinking about that.

Her shirt had clung to her curves, accentuating every full line of her voluptuous body, and the violet had made her eyes pop. It was also a thought I’d never had before, but it was true. I was taken with her, I suddenly realized.

Attracted to her, sure. I’d known that for a while now, but after this last meeting, I was also just a little bit intrigued. I’d been horrible to her. She’d had every right to call me out on it and yet she’d smiled and told me that she understood. Then she’d shared personal details about herself to demonstrate her understanding.

It was odd how she’d been kind even after how intentionally rude I’d been to her. No one was really like that anymore, or at least, that was what I’d thought before. That the world was full of uncaring, closed-off people—like me—who were only out for themselves.

Except for my mother, who had always been warm and caring, and apparently, Serenity. Few people had made me question myself like she had, but especially not after only a couple meetings.

As I drove onto the estate and followed the long, winding road to the main building, I put her out of my head. Ultimately, we were still an incredibly popular, sought-after venue and event-planning company. Despite my lack of empathy, we were doing well, so I supposed it wasn’t a prerequisite for being in our industry.

My day started with a bang. My assistants swarmed around me as soon as I stepped into the spacious foyer. “Mr. St. Clair, we’ve had over four hundred guests confirming their attendance for the fundraiser.”

“There’s an issue with the catering,” another said.

Yet another spoke over the first two. “Misty Blue is insisting that we honor her rider.”

Mentally pulling myself together, I turned to Adam, who’d spoken last. “Cancel Misty today. Right now. We’ve had artists banging down our doors to perform at this event. We’re raising money to feed underprivileged children, for God’s sake. If she’s not willing to compromise, then I don’t want her anywhere near here on the day.”

He nodded and hurried down the expansive corridor that led from here to the administrative wing. I turned to Belle next. “If there’s an issue with the catering, sort it out. If you can’t, bring me the list of alternatives I approved. We’re not taking any shit on this one, people. If we’ve already received positive responses on over four hundred invitations, that means we’ll already have over eight hundred of the most influential guests in the city. Let’s get it right.”

With that done, I turned to Rick, my executive assistant and right-hand man. “Why have we only heard back from four hundred? We sent out almost double that amount of invitations.”

He gave me a swift nod. “Yes, sir. We’ve received negative responses from fifty-three, but we only sent out the invitations last week.”