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“There’s no need for that. Something simple will do.”
“Nonsense, Marshall Blackwood.” Stella playfully swatted at Marshall’s hands where he had them folded on the table. She couldn’t help but notice the way his fiancée rested her hands the same and the fact she wore no engagement ring. Interesting.
Juniper didn’t know if she should jump in before any rumbling went on. She’d seen it a time or two when the groom didn’t understand the magic of a dream wedding for the bride-to-be.
She didn’t want to risk him getting up and walking out and taking her one miracle with them.
“You said you traveled a ways? Where are you from?”
“Houston. So you can see why we’re hoping you can fit us in on your tight schedule. I’m sure you’re booked after what we saw of your skills with Gretchen.” Marshall took out a leather wallet that looked more expensive than her entire wardrobe, and slid a black card across the table. “I’m willing to pay you whatever it takes to hire you.”
Her brows shot up and her mind raced. “We haven’t even gone over the details of what you are wanting. Would you like to talk about it, see my packages and pick which is right for you? Or at least, let me know the date you have picked and I can help you decide which package fits best for each season.” Unlike what she did with Gretchen, she would be able to charge full price with this client, but fair.
“July thirty-first.”
Her eyes widened. Make that double the price.
“Holy Crap!” She would have to pawn all her current work off on her assistant. Gran’s birthday party. She ticked through a million little details in a blink of an eye, shuffling things around to make room for everything that would need her attention. Dresses, preferences, invitations, flowers, the cake. Can’t forget the cake. Bridesmaids and all that encompassed. The list went on. And in Houston. She’d have to account for travel time.
Oh boy.
Marshall cleared his throat from beside her and nodded while Stella sat beside him, her face scrunched up, prepared for her to stand up and show them the door. Or at least that’s how she read the look of unease that claimed both of their expressions.
Truth be told, the idea tempted her a little. The sheer amount of work that would go into a wedding five months out could leave a mark or two on the nerves. But one in two weeks and on a grand scale?
No. Not even two weeks. She did a quick count of the days. “Thirteen days.” She checked her watch. “We’ve already lost too much time today.” She absently ran through the miles of mental checklists in her mind.
“You want a wedding pulled together for the last day of the month? Is that a special day for you?”
“His birthday.” Stella patted Marshall’s hands.
Juniper pushed up from her chair and Marshall stood, hat in hand.
At this point, she didn’t care about her lack of footwear or lip-gloss. She paced the length of the table as she tapped her pen against her palm.
Gran’s birthday party was only a few days away and she still had a ton of work to do to pull off the last-minute details her gran had texted her this morning. Someone needed to take that woman’s internet connection away.
Callie could take care of the three bridal showers they had lined up in as many days. It would be tight, hair-raising by the skin of their teeth kind of tight, but she’d find a way.
There were the dresses she had to order soon to have on time for another client’s engagement party. She tapped her foot, her vision blurred and unfocused.
Marshall cleared his throat. “Name the amount and it’s yours, Juniper. Anything. You really are our last—and as it turns out—our best hope to pull this off. What do you say? Give the number and my si—Stella and I will cut the check, so to speak.”
He held her gaze with those unwavering blue eyes of his and she knew right then and there he wasn’t walking out of here without a contract and she wouldn’t sleep for the rest of the month.
“Please, Juniper.”
Why did her heart have to race when his voice dipped like that? And why did her heart have any business dipping or racing in the first place? But most of all, why did he have to use that drawl on her and why did she have to like how her name sounded with a deep, husky Texan cadence?
“What do you say? Do we have a deal?” Stella looked up at her, eyes wide and expectant. Mr. Blackwood held his hand out between them, shoulders back and chin held high as though he already knew her answer. That made one of them, at least.
No was on the tip of her tongue. She valued her sanity like she valued sleep and a hot shot of espresso in the morning.
“Yes, Mr. Blackwood.” She offered a smile, a small one, but still a smile. “I’d love to work with you both.” He slid his work-roughened hand into hers and tightened his fingers with a firm, hold and a second later he placed his other hand on top.
“You’re doing us a great favor, Juniper. I do believe it’s safe to say your generosity has saved my family from a very dubious predicament.”
Looking at it from all angles, what choice did she have? Too many people counted on her. The idea of being the one who delivered pink slips over the summer sat in her stomach like simmering coals.
