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Cait put two wine glasses down in front of me. “You two. I thought for sure you’d never speak to him again after that first night, and he’s helping you. While you argue like an old-married couple.”

“Whoa, watch your mouth.”

“Can you really do this for another two weeks?”

I shrugged. I’d had to tell her—she was basically my only friend here. I didn’t know if she thought I was a friend, but I’d decided she was mine, so that was that. “I just need the party to go off without a hitch. Nothing else really matters aside from that.”

She shook her head. “You’re a damn good person, Soph. I don’t think I could do what you’re doing for my friends.”

“Cam’s more like my sister than anything. It’s a little thing, really.”

“It’s not. It’s a bloody big deal, and you’re too nice.”

She wouldn’t think that if she’d heard what was running through my mind last night and this morning.

“If you say so.” I smiled and picked up the bottle with the two empty glasses, then took them back to the table. We had a corner spot by the window that could seat four, which gave us enough room to lay everything out to work on it.

Hugo looked up from his phone. “That took you long enough.”

“Like you’d know. You were on your phone the entire time.” I set the bottle and glasses down on the table. “She’ll take our order in a few.”

“All right. What are we doing now?” He opened the bottle of wine and poured two glasses, his a little smaller than mine. “Driving,” he reminded me.

Of course. He’d followed me to the cottage before he driven into the village—with a regular car, this time. Not the lorry.

I was very pleased about that.

“Finalise the seating plan,” I replied. “Did you speak to your mum?”

He nodded. “She’s back tomorrow at ten and wants a meeting with you at eleven.”

“Great.”

“I’ll be there. Don’t worry. Dad has a meeting with the builders for that cottage, and Henry will be at work.”

“What about your grandma?”

“She’ll probably crash it halfway through and tell us what’s wrong.” His lips twitched. “Her usual behaviour.”

“Well, better her than your mum. She scares me a little.”

He laughed quietly.

“Are we set on this plan?” I asked. “And ten-seat tables? That seems awfully large.”

Hugo switched immediately from laughter to business mode and leaned forwards. “Space-wise, it makes the most sense. There’s a lot of people coming, and the ballroom can only hold so many.”

“I feel as though I’m locked in a regency romance novel.”

He glanced at me, smirking. “Are you looking for romance, my lady?”

“Shut up and be serious.”

“I was.”

“Not very well,” I drawled. “Why can’t we do tables of eight and add a few more tables?”

“Routing,” he replied. “Do you have another one of these plans?”

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