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“Do you really think I can do this? It’s tight, timing wise,” Cam asked, chewing on the side of her thumb.
I threw a pillow at her so she’d stop. She’d only moan tomorrow when she’d bitten it to the quick and made it sore.
I didn’t want to hear those complaints.
“Cam, if anyone can do it, you can. You’re a master organizer, and if you make sure to be clear up front that you’ll be away before the party, they kind of can’t be knobheads if they hire you and something doesn’t get done.”
She blinked at me. “Words to live by.”
“Oh, come on. You know I’m right.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “But I’d have to leave the day after I land from Oslo.”
“So? It’s not the end of the world. You won’t have to be there for long, and I bet she’s willing to pay you a pretty penny.”
“She is.”
“Suck it up, buttercup. You can work remotely, you’ll get a huge reputation boost when you pull it off, and after you turned down that wedding with the Welsh bloke because of a schedule conflict, you can’t really do that again.”
Her lips twitched. “He wasn’t Welsh. He was the Earl of Anglesey and, again, it was a last-minute wedding.”
“If you ask me, the upper-class needs to plan their shit better.” I sipped my wine. “There’s no reason for you not to accept this job, and you know it.”
Cam sighed. “Fine, but if I need help and you don’t have a job, you’re going to have to help me.”
“Are you going to pay me?”
“I’ll pay you minimum wage.”
“Oh, come on.”
She laughed, dropping her head back. “Kidding. All right, fine. You win. I’ll call Nancy in the morning and tell her I’m accepting the job with my conditions.”
I raised my glass. “Cheers to that.”
CHAPTER TWO – HUGO
Just Say No To Matchmaking
“Why has it taken so long to decide to throw Grandma a party?” I asked, leaning against the kitchen island. “And why can’t we do it ourselves?”
Mum turned away from the fridge, milk in hand, and wrinkled her nose. “I do not have the time to throw her a party.”
“It’s not difficult, Mother. People do it all the time.”
“I am not people.”
“You sound like a snob.”
“And you, Hugo, sound like you need a reminder that being taller than me does not excuse you from a clip around the ear,” she replied dryly. “I do not have the time. Neither does your father. Perhaps you’d like to offer your services as a party planner if you’re so against me hiring the work out?”
I snorted. “Absolutely not. I don’t need you micromanaging that.”
“I thought as much.” She poured milk into her teacup. “Perhaps you’d like to look over the draft guest list with Nancy and inform her of anyone you’d like to invite.”
I knew where this was going.
And abso-fucking-lutely not.
