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He signed off and tucked the phone into the pocket of his pants. He wore pale-colored trousers today with a deep green T-shirt that complemented his black hair and olive complexion. She no longer saw the wedding crasher hell-bent on destroying her world, she saw the man with his head on her hotel pillow grinning back at her.
It blew her mind that she’d become comfortable being naked with him in such a short period of time, but maybe it shouldn’t. Trick wooed everyone within shouting distance, and since he was online daily, that was a lot of people.
A lot ofwomen.
Frowning at the rogue streak of jealousy, she quickly slapped on the smile she’d worn for the camera a moment ago.
“What’s up?” He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “I can tell you’re faking being happy. You’re practically wearing your shoulders as earrings.” He placed his palms on her shoulders and gently pushed them down. His touch, his unerring eye contact, and that sideways smirk hinting that everything would be okay calmed her some. “Talk to me, Peaches. Who ruined your day already?”
“The calligrapher,” she answered, relieved to have someone to talk to about it. She recapped the seating-chart tragedy and waited for his face to reflect her defeat. That didn’t happen, of course. He was Patrick MacArthur, man capable of only good moods.
“Who else can write names on parchment that you know?”
“It’s not that simple. They must matchexactly. The ink color. The penmanship.” She lifted and dropped her hands, the problem growing horns and hair and sharp, jagged teeth. “I can’t very well have mismatched place cards!”
“Breathe,” he instructed. She did, even though the suggestion peeved her. She was more peeved when a few deep breaths took her down a notch. “Did you know that anxiety literally shuts off the problem-solving portion of your brain? You need that part, Rye. So. Who do you know that does calligraphy?”
“No one,” she answered automatically. “Wait. My mom.”
“Your mom? How could you forget something like that?” He chuckled.
“I didn’t forget. It’s one of her hobbies. Along with painting landscapes, making mosaics from broken dishes and quilling.”
“What the fuck’s quilling?”
“It’s where you roll these little strips of paper into flowers or—you know what? Never mind. The point is my mom has a lot of artsy hobbies. She doesn’t do any of them for a living.”
“Do you have samples of the calligrapher’s penmanship? Can your mom copy it?”
“Maybe.” Rylee’s heart buoyed. Could the fix be this simple?
“Do they live close by?”
“They do. My hometown is about forty-five minutes away from here. If she’s willing to do this for me, I could drive there and be back by this afternoon.” Which gave Rylee plenty of time to check on the preparations for the rehearsal dinner and greet Ari and Ex when they arrive. “Let me make a quick phone call.”
Her mother was home, and not only was she willing to help with the place cards, she was also excited to try her hand at it. Rylee gathered the box of place cards that were already done, plenty of extra card stock, and headed for the door. As she turned to ask Trick if he needed the office key in her absence, she found him gathering his camera bag.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m coming with you.”
“What do you mean you’re coming with me?”
“This is behind-the-scenes gold. I’m not letting an opportunity to film last-minute place cards and your mom as the emergency ringer pass us by. You painted this like a Greek tragedy two minutes ago. This is the big save.”
“I overreact sometimes,” she mumbled, slightly embarrassed for leaping off the deep end when the answer had been right in front of her face. If Trick hadn’t been here, she didn’t know if it would have ever occurred to her to call her mother and ask for help.
“It’s what makes you good at what you do.” He took them the long way through the TCC, grabbing a few bottles of water from a cooler on the way. She stopped him before he asked the kitchen staff to whip up a charcuterie board for the road.
“Want me to drive?” he asked as she unlocked her mother’s Mercedes.
“No. You film. I’ll drive. It’ll give me something to do besides watch the minutes tick away.” In theory they would return on time for the rehearsal dinner. Barring any unforeseen circumstances that would cause a delay. This wedding had been chock-full of unforeseen circumstances. While she didn’t want to jinx herself, she was aware anything could happen. The passenger in her car was all the proof she needed.
“Will your dad be there, too?” Trick asked once they were on the road.
“Possibly. He works from home more often than not these days. He has stepped back some from his position as CFO.”
“Certified... Frisbee Overseer?” Trick laughed at his own corny joke. “What’s his business?”
