AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s Valentine’s Day. I was thinking about keeping it simple. I love bold cherry red. Maybe alternating with white swags to decorate inside?” I’ve stumbled over my words and am quick to bite my tongue.
Isobel is regarding me as if I’ve asked her to plan a three-ring circus, not a wedding. Given all of the extras Davina and Isobel go on to discuss, like favors, place settings, and the fabric the cloth napkins are cut from, it may be.
I lock eyes with Laurel. Her neck strains when Davina gives an obscene dollar amount she’s willing to spend on a single party.
“Seeing how we have a budget in place, is there anything else I should be aware of?”
“Yes,” I say. Unwilling to hear Isobel’s denial, my voice still wavers. “The officiant should have a jumpsuit on.”
It started as a joke, but Cary agreed.
“Elvis?” Isobel’s jaw hangs.
“Elvis,” the three of us repeat in unison.
This is the moment I realize Davina has a little devil in her disguise. “You’ll also find a limo service with pink Cadillacs. For Cary, of course, you know his love of classic cars. We wouldn’t want to dismiss something he’s interested in when the two ideas mesh so perfectly.”
“Yes, nothing shouts ‘perfection’ like velour and Naugahyde.” Isobel’s misgivings slip.
“Do you have a problem with the requests? I hoped you’d be up for an exciting challenge, but if that’s not the case, I can take my business elsewhere.” The lilt in Davina’s voice doesn’t match her body language. She produces her checkbook, swirling her signature on the paper.
“I do elegant parties, Davina. You’re aware of that.”
“I am. And this right here,” she tears the hefty check from the perforations and slaps in on the money down, “means I have confidence in your ability to turn our unusual requests into something unique and refined. Now, do you want to be the bridal consultant who organizes our ostentatious requests into something cultured, or do you want to be the has-been consultant who lets an opportunity pass by?”
Davina slides the deposit toward Isobel, who brings it closer to her chest. I don’t catch a glimpse of anything except a wild number of zeros.
“I thought so. We’ll be in touch, Isobel.” Davina rises from her chair. “Oh, and if I were you, I’d get the photographer in touch with Carolina’s Bridal Magazine to set up a photo shoot. I can’t wait to see what you come up with. We’ll see ourselves out. Enjoy your evening.”
My face is as white as a ghost when we get to the parking lot.
“I’m no pushover,” I say to Davina, “but I’m not sure how I’d ever pull that off with the level of tenacity you had in there.”
“You have all the confidence you need inside of you. Knowing when to bring it out is an art form. I don’t mind showing you how, though I may need you to do something for me in return.”
Davina winks and I’m uncertain if I should be wary of her offer.
________________
31
________________
My fingertip traces the line of a Porsche Cayman. The metallic luster makes my already erratic heart thud in my chest. It sits in the showroom, protected from the city grime, pollution, and likely from theft, a few feet away from this year’s Continental GT. It’s the car I’ve been hesitant to let Carver Galloway test drive.
My dealerships stock some of the best high-end automotive lines out there, but my older sister has shown me up before we’ve even met. Pulling up outside between the customer and service lots it was obvious luxury motors are a profitable business for Adelaide Powell. There aren’t keys for a vehicle with an MSRP under a hundred k within grabbing distance.
High heels clip-clop coming from behind me.
“She’ll be a few minutes more, sir. Is there anything I can get you… Sparkling water? Espresso?” The receptionist keeps her manicured hands clasped at her middle like she’s in a chorus.
I shake my head. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Who are you with again?” She cocks her chin, trying to remember.
I’m not here representing Cass Stanton, so my company isn’t something I led with for status and to get name recognition when I’d approached her desk. My business here is private and meeting in a public space was at my half-sister’s request. I assume she wanted it to be on her turf for a reason and won’t judge Adelaide for needing the advantage.
“Me.” Comes a firm but sultry feminine voice to my left. “Mr. Cass, I apologize. My meeting ran over. Some things you can’t rush, even when you’re in a hurry to wrap it up.”
