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“I’ll have my own security as well.” You can never have too much security. Never.
The door flies open and Clementine rushes in with flushed cheeks. “I’m so sorry I’m late.” She takes the seat next to me, but doesn’t look me in the eyes. “Cake emergency.”
Lana smiles. “It happens. I was just going over the security details with Mr. Prince.”
“Security, right.” Clementine places her bag on the floor. “I think we need lots of security because…” her words fall away and her eyes, for the first time since she plowed into the room, meet mine. There’s a flush to her face, and I’m not sure if it all has to do with her running late, or something else.
“The security will be handled by my team,” I reiterate, letting both ladies know I have everything covered.
Lana takes a seat behind her desk and taps on her keyboard. “Just making some notes. Ok, moving on.” She glances up at Clementine. “The wedding cake?”
I touch Clementine’s hand when she doesn’t respond right away, and she jumps a bit. “Clementine will make a great cake.” I remove my hand, hoping Lana didn’t notice the discomfort on my adoring fiancee’s face. She really needs to learn how to be a better actress.
“Well, I’m not a professional yet.” Clementine’s cheeks turn a brighter shade of red and she squirms a bit in her seat. “But, I can do the cake.”
Lana continues with her checklist of items while Clementine smooths down her wild tresses, and I’m positive something’s not quite right with her.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I say, standing from my chair. The nagging in my gut refuses to go away, and I always trust my gut. “I’ll just be a moment.”
I ignore Clementine’s questioning gaze and slip out of the room, shutting the door behind me. I grab my phone and move further down the hallway for some privacy. My finger smashes into the dial button connecting to Mayer on the first ring.
“Where was Clementine this afternoon?” I say into the phone as soon as he answers.
“She was at work.”
“You drove her from work to here?” I ask him, still uneasy with the way she was behaving.
“Yes, I drove her to work this morning. She stayed there until we rushed across town to make it here.”
“And she didn’t leave at all?”
“No, she was there all day,” he confirms.
Maybe it really was nothing more than a cake emergency. A voice in the back of my head is having a hard time believing that, but Mayer is one of my best, and I trust him. I hang up the phone and head back inside where Lana and Clementine now talk about flowers.
“What kind of flowers would you like?” Clementine asks me. “I was thinking the crisantemi.”
Lana holds her hand up. “Actually, that flower is more for funerals.”
“Perfect.” Clementine smiles, and based on that answer, it looks like she’s back to normal. Maybe all my worrying was for nothing.
I resume my seat. “Lana, we’ll take roses and lilies.”
Clementine looks over at me. “I thought you said you didn’t care.”
I eye Lana before directing my full attention on Clementine. “Well, I guess I do. The lily was my mother’s favorite flower. And the crisantemi is what we had at my parents’ funeral. I don’t want to be reminded of that day on my wedding day. Call me old fashioned.”
“Oh,” is all Clementine says in response to that. “I actually adore roses, so that works for me.”
I shoot her a smile letting her know I appreciate her easy acceptance of my reasons. “What’s next?” I ask in a more upbeat tone. “Maybe we can release rats at the end of the ceremony instead of doves?”
Clementine remains still, attempting to hide her smile, while Lana gawks at the both of us. I’m sure she’s never come across a couple like us before, but that’s the thing, we’re not a couple. One wicked hot kiss in the back of a limo doesn’t make us boyfriend and girlfriend. I don’t like how much my heart kicks with what I’m afraid is disappointment.
Lana launches into a spiel about which foods are best to serve for which time of the year, and I’ll be honest, I zone out. Instead of listening to talk of vegan options, I focus on Clementine’s profile and the way her bottom lip is slightly fuller than the top. The way her brows pull in and down as she concentrates on the selection of foods Lana presents to us. I’m not interested in any of it, because, really, the only thing I want to eat is inside the jeans Clementine is wearing.
“Is that all?” I ask, ready to escape, when they finish up the menu options. How did I let her convince me to sit through this ridiculous meeting?
Lana smiles, like she has a big secret to tell us. “Well, I was thinking... if you want to really wow people, we could bring in a few statues from London and Greece for decor at the reception.”
