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“I’ll drive.”
“Why?” I turn to her.
“Because you look like you did the last time you told me you were going to set Mark’s car on fire, and I don’t want you behind the wheel like that.”
I shrug. “That’s fair. Take me to Rowan’s.”
“Rowan’s?”
Shit. Right. She doesn’t know. “He’s always good at talking me off the ledge. He’s had decades of practice.”
“We all need someone like that. Especially the bride.” She points to the bride, who has the maid of honor’s shoulder in a death grip and is rushing her to the powder room. “Something tells me tomorrow is going to be an interesting day for Harmony Hill.”
The bride shoots me an angry glare before shoving the maid of honor into the powder room.
“I’d say you’re right.”
16
Rowan
I am surprised to get the evening text, but the timing could not have been better. Grabbing the Riesling I’d picked up with Autumn in mind, I set it up with two glasses in the fridge. When she knocks, a thrill shoots through me. I’d thought of her all day long. Autumn is so hot in her all black work clothes that I smile instantly when I see her. “Hey, what’s—
“Are the kids here?”
“No, they’re with Mom. What—
“Fuck my life.”
I hold the door open for Autumn and wave at Delia as she pulls away in their work van. “What is going on?”
A heavy sigh is the initial answer. “Can you…I don’t know. I just had the worst day, and I wanted to see you.”
“Riesling?”
Her head drops with her shoulders and an enthusiastic, “Yes!” drones out of her mouth.
“On it. Why don’t you take a seat at the bar and tell me all about it?” I scoot to the kitchen and pop the cork, pouring two glasses.
“Wait—why are the kids gone?” she asks, sitting down.
“Mom wants Ellie to practice being the flower girl for Sawyer and Willow, and she didn’t want to take one without the other. Apparently, her role as flower girl is critical and cannot be left to chance.” I smile and roll my eyes, before nudging her wine to her.
Autumn nods her gratitude, then drinks the entire glass. And reaches for mine.
“What is going on?”
“I got fired today.”
“What the hell for?” I ask as I sit on the bar stool next to her.
Another heavy sigh. “They wanted us to get candid shots of everyone. So, Delia and I went looking for the bride and groom because they were MIA. I half expected them to be canoodling someplace…” She sipped the second glass. “I did not, however, expect the groom to be canoodling the maid of honor.”
“Okay, that’s awful. But what’s it got to do with you?”
“I found them. Couldn’t get them to stop when I tried to subtly interrupt them. So, I didn’t know what else to do, but take some pictures—“
I wince. “Oh.”
