AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Okay, then. You said you wanted only the most important people. I think we can sort that out. You got something to write on?”
I flipped to the back of the second magazine I’d gotten, which had a few blank pages just for notes. “Think we can get this solved before we get home?”
“I’m hopeful if you are,” he said with a nod, ignoring the flight attendant as she placed our waters in front of us. It wasn’t that he was being rude, I honestly thought he just didn’t see her because his eyes were glued to me. Which had me falling that much harder.
By the time the plane’s wheels touched down at LAX, we had worked out the guest list, and we were both happy with the number once it was final. One hundred and thirty-six people, as opposed to the five hundred that had been the moms’ hard limit? I’d take that.
“Now, we just have to pick out the invitations and have them printed,” I told him as we walked through the airport parking garage. “We got more accomplished in one plane ride than I did in months of planning with Mom.”
He unlocked the Range Rover and put our cases in the back before clasping me by the waist and pulling me in for a long, drugging kiss. “Are you happy with these decisions? Will this be your dream wedding?”
I stroked my fingers over the stubble on his jaw. “The dream was always marrying you. Which was one of the reasons I put up with Mom and Nat for so long. It didn’t matter what or where in the beginning. I just wanted to become your wife. Then things started to get out of hand,” I told him honestly. “But now, with you helping me, it’s every dream I’ve ever had come to life.”
He swallowed hard and pushed a few curls back from my face. “Lucy, I can’t fucking wait to marry you.”
I leaned into his touch as he cupped my cheek. “I can’t wait either, babe. It’s going to be the best day of our lives, I swear.”
On the drive home, I called the baker and asked his assistant to set us up an appointment as soon as possible to talk about a moderate-sized cake. She gushed over meeting with us again and sounded almost relieved to be hearing from us. “The way Mrs. Armstrong made it sound, we thought your wedding was off, Miss Thornton. We were so sad to think that you and Mr. Cutter wouldn’t be getting married. You two were so obviously in love the last time we saw you, and it made Chef a little teary when he thought you two were no more.”
I gaped at Harris as he stopped for a red light. His brows lifted, but I could only shake my head at him. “Um, well, I’m glad to tell you we’re still getting married,” I said in a voice strained from containing my laughter. “And we would love to work with Chef on our cake, but we would like something considerably smaller than what our moms had originally picked out for us.”
“That is completely understandable,” she rushed to assure me. “Actually, we could all see you weren’t particularly happy when you last came in with your mother and Mrs. Cutter, so we thought this would happen at some point. Chef has an appointment open on Monday if you would like to come in and talk to him about the design you want. He’s got several samples he can show you.”
“Monday? I’ll have the girls with me, though,” I said out loud to remind him since I was going to be watching my nieces for Drake Sunday and Monday. But I got a nod from Harris as he eased through the intersection. “That works for us.”
“Great. I’ve got you down for three thirty. We look forward to seeing you then!”
A handful of calls later and Harris was pulling into my spot in the apartment’s garage. The following week was going to be full of meetings, but I wasn’t worried about them. If anything, I was looking forward to everything.
Everything but meeting with my parents when they got back from Paris.
--
As it turned out, Drake and Lana came home early because they missed their girls. So Harris and I went to the appointment with Chef alone. Not that I was going to complain about not having the girls with us. Nevaeh and Arella probably wouldn’t have been a problem, but Heavenleigh and Bliss were considerably smaller and would have probably been into everything.
We went in thinking we wanted something simple, but after seeing the sketch Chef had made up just for us, we fell in love with the cake. A five-tiered cake with silhouettes of a boy and girl that represented us throughout our entire relationship. One tier depicting us as kids holding hands and Harris giving me a flower. One with us holding hands but both of us turned away from each other. One where Harris was holding me off my feet and we were kissing. One with Harris on one knee with my silhouette holding my hands to my mouth. And the last and top tier was of me in a wedding dress and him in his tux dancing. The icing wasn’t the traditional white, either. It started at the bottom in a deep blue and blended into a cascade of colors that eventually faded into a sunset orange at the top.
This cake was the perfect representation of our love, and I was left speechless at how touched I was that Chef was able to create something so moving for us.
The rest of the week was crazy, and not just with the wedding planning. I had finals coming up, as well as classes to get through, so I was studying in my free time as well as going to all my classes. Tuesday morning, Harper called me. I thought about just letting it go to voice mail because I had so much to do later that day, but something told me to pick up.
“Hey!” Her voice was its usual sweet tone, but I could hear a strain in it that had me dropping my breakfast of a cherry and cheese Danish onto my plate.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her immediately.
“Oh, it’s nothing too drastic,” she assured me with a tense laugh. “It’s just… One of my editors is in the hospital with appendicitis, and there isn’t a single person in this entire damn building who has the balls to take over his workload for the next two weeks that he will be out of commission.”
In the few times over the last several months I had been to see Harper at work, to either fill out paperwork for the paychecks I got from my part-time freelancing or to find out assignments, I had met several of the editors. If the man she was talking about was the one I was thinking, then I knew why no one wanted to take over his workload while he was out sick.
Gordon was a ball-breaker, especially about getting grammar wrong. He’d found one typo in the last article I’d done, and I had been pretty sure he was going to have a stroke. No one particularly liked him, Harper included, but he was a kick-ass editor. The thing about Gordon was, we were kindred spirits. When I had been the editor of the school newspaper back in high school, everyone hated me with a passion. I didn’t let even the smallest imperfection slide, and they had all been planning a revolt until I’d gone to college a semester early. Even Kin, who was my best friend, had been debating my untimely demise because I had been such a hard-ass. At Georgetown, I’d gotten so many pleas to edit for some of my professors that I’d been overwhelmed. But I had welcomed the distraction since I’d been so lost in my own head over Harris breaking up with me then.
So I knew perfectly well why Harper was calling me. “Harp, I’m so stinking busy with everything, I’m not going to be able to do his work any justice.” I rushed to remind her. “I have finals coming up and like a hundred things that need my immediate attention for both school and this wedding.”
“I know,” she said with a weak sigh. “I know, Lucy. And I wouldn’t be calling if I had any other option. He handles some of my most popular writers, and the magazine is going to lose readers if their work isn’t up to par like it normally would be. Please, I’ll make it worth your while, and I’ll give you two assistants to help you with anything you need. One for the office and one for personal use.”
I groaned and picked up the rest of my Danish. Stuffing it into my mouth, I chewed, giving myself a moment to think over the offer. “They aren’t going to be able to take my finals for me,” I finally muttered, but even she could hear the resignation in my voice. “Fine, but I’m going to be unable to come in until after lunch today. I have classes until eleven thirty today and Thursday.”
“No problem,” she assured me with a relieved laugh. “It gives me time to get your assistants in order and sort out the papers already piled up on Gordon’s desk.”
