Page 29 of Bound To Be Mine

“The champagne tower seems precarious,” he said as I walked past him.

“It’s supposed to look precarious,” I replied without stopping. “Creates drama for the photos. But it’s actually very stable. I’ve done this a hundred times. It’s a very popular feature. Thank God I talked the bride out an ice sculpture. You want to talk precarious? That will give a girl nightmares.”

I checked my watch. Ten minutes until the guests would start arriving. I did one final walkthrough of the ballroom, Briggs trailing behind me. I adjusted a napkin here, straightened a place card there. I stepped back and surveyed the room as a whole. I wanted to see what the guests would see when they stepped through the doors.

I noticed a centerpiece looked off kilter and quickly rushed over to fix it.

“I have a question,” he said.

“What?”

“Do you honestly think anyone would notice that little detail?”

I turned to look at him. “The people who pay for them do. And the people who’ll post photos on Instagram definitely will.”

My earpiece crackled. “First shuttle just pulled up,” Zoey said.

“Copy. We’re ready.” I looked at Briggs. “Showtime. Stay out of the way, and for the love of God, don’t talk to the bride’s mother. She’s had four glasses of champagne already and she’s feeling chatty.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I had someone watching her at the chapel.” I started toward the entrance. “I know everything, Briggs. That’s my job.”

The next two hours were what I lived for. Guests arrived in waves. I greeted the important ones personally, directed the others to their tables. The bride and groom made their entrance to thunderous applause. The first mashup song started with Beyonce’s Crazy in Love with The Weeknd’s Worth It. It wasn’t the typical song choice, but the bride wasn’t typical.

Dinner was served in perfectly timed courses. The toasts were heartfelt and, mercifully, brief. I had insisted. I was even able to review the best man’s speech because the bride was nervous. It was all very tasteful.

Through it all, I moved through the ballroom like a ghost. Invisible to the guests but constantly present. I cued the band for the first dance. Signaled the servers when to clear plates. Caught a groomsman before he could knock over a flower arrangement. Fucking Vegas. He was always going to be a problem. I caught him taking shots before the wedding.

And Briggs watched it all.

I could feel his eyes on me even when I wasn’t looking at him. He’d found a spot along the wall where he could observe without being in the way. He stayed there, taking it all in. Occasionally I’d glance over and find him watching me direct a server or coordinate with the photographers. Having his full attention was unnerving. It felt like fingertips tracing down my spine—in a good way. Not in a horror film kind of way.

Professional, I reminded myself again. This is a professional arrangement.

But my traitorous brain kept supplying unhelpful thoughts about how good he looked when he was focused like that. How his shoulders filled out his suit jacket.

Once things are well underway, I made my way to the bar. I only had another thirty minutes and I could declare myself off duty. The crowd had already dispersed quite a bit.

“What are you doing?” Briggs asked.

“Getting a drink.”

“Aren’t you on the job?”

“My job is finished. Have a drink with me.”

He shook his head. “No thanks.”

I sipped my vodka soda and watched as he pulled the contract out of his inside jacket pocket. I frowned.

“What’s that?”

“The contract. I fulfilled my part of the agreement,” he said. “Let’s get this deal signed and we can get the ball rolling on our new partnership.”

“That’s all you’re here for,” I said. “Did you even pay attention to my skills?”

“Of course. You’re very competent. The wedding and reception were perfect. I’m not sure how that translates to you starting a lifestyle brand with my family, but it doesn’t matter whether I understand it or not.”