AllFreeNovel
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I plant myself right in front of them in the hallway, and fold my arms with a big smile. They stare back.
It’s a standoff, but I’m not concerned. Ever tried to tell a director thatBridgertonhas booked out all the historic carriages in England and you’ll have to dress the same rickety old model up in different finishes for every shot?
Exactly. These snooty Danes have nothing on me. I stand there waiting patiently, and finally, Nils blinks first.
“Very well.” He scowls, and then snaps his fingers. A minion appears out of nowhere, dressed in the same boxy grey overalls. “Show her the book!”
“The book!”
More minions buzz around, and soon we’re reviewing every dish, design, and floral centerpiece in detail. Great,greatdetail.
“Does that meet your satisfaction?” Nella asks icily, after an hour of imported silverware samples and fabric swatches.
“It’s all beautiful work,” I agree, exhausted. “Really, I’m just here for Avery. I’m sure you know how brides can be,” I add with a smile.
Nella’s icy glare melts, just a little. “She’s calling every ten minutes,” she complains. “Have we done this? Did we check that? What does she think, are we stupid? We are professionals!”
“Of course!” I agree. “So why don’t you let me handle her? I can be the liaison, leaving you to focus on the job.”
“Job?” Nils looks horrified.
“Art!” I blurt quickly. “Your work is art. Of course. Which is why you don’t need to be called away every five seconds for all of Avery’s questions. That’s my responsibility now.”
I give them both another big, reassuring smile. They exchange a look, then Nella nods. “Very well. You may assist us.”
I exhale in relief.
“Nice work,” Anna comments, as we leave the Danish duo to their prep. “I thought they were going to bark a code word, and have their minions come tear us limb from limb.”
“Seems like a fun marriage,” I agree.
“Marriage? I thought they were brother and sister,” Anna frowns.
“How very ‘White Stripes’of them,” I quip.
“Who?”
I look over, laughing, but she’s dead serious. “No!” I groan. “Don’t make me feel any older than I already am. Next thing, you’ll be telling me you were born in the 2000s.”
“Well, actually…”
I stifle another groan-slash-sob, just as my phone buzzes with a text. “Avery wants to check the cakes tonight are gluten-free and vegan,” I report, distracted from my impending membership of the AARP. “And that all the bridal party knows the right hashtag to post for social media.”
“Divide and conquer?” Anna suggests.
“I’ll take the chef,” I agree. “I need to double-check the menu, anyway. It’s supposed to be a six-course formal banquet, which is six different chances for something to screw up!”
By the timeI’ve met the catering team, and surveyed all the menus for the dinner tonight and welcome cocktail hour, too, I’m more than ready to shower and change the hell out of these travel clothes. But when I check my room, there’s still no sign of my luggage, just the battered carry-on that’s already humiliated me enough so far.
“I had my suitcase with me at the airport,” I explain to the concierge at the front desk. He’s a brisk, bespectacled man named Larry, who looks horrified that I might not be having the most perfect trip of my life. “And then the car came to pick me up, and I don’t know if the driver took it, or?—”
“Don’t say another word! I’ll personally see to it that we find your belongings,” Larry insists. “In the meantime, please avail yourself of anything you need from the resort shop. We have clothing, all the necessities.”
“Thank you,” I say, biting back my frustration. So much for all the theme-approved outfits Lottie and I spent a week picking out.
“Let me show you. Please, this way.”
Larry leads me past the lobby, to the hotel store, which is airy, chic, and… designed for someone in an entirely different tax bracket than me. I peek a look at the price-tag on the nearest gold bikini, and almost choke over the cost.
