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Langford barks out a laugh. “You’re lucky Zoey made you look good, brother. You’d better hope I don’t fire your ass.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got money,” I tell him.
His eyes snap to me. “You do, huh?”
“Yeah, I really do,” I say.
“How much are we talking?”
I shrug. “Like a whole lot. All those years of winning competitions and sponsorship bonuses and endorsement deals—I saved all of it.”
His eyes go wide. “Are you telling me I got myself a sugar momma?”
“Yep, and you’d better hope I don’t fire your ass,” I tease.
Ansley’s mother is hosting a bridal tea for her, so I have to quickly change, and Morris drops me off at Chantilly’s Tea Room.
It’s an old Victorian house, hugging the mountainside, that has been converted into a quaint event venue and boutique, filled with antique teapots and teacups and silver platters that hold finger sandwiches and bite-sized confections.
Today is the Wednesday before Christmas, and her wedding is in four days, so it’s a complete surprise when she asks me to be a part of the bridal party for her and Garrett’s wedding.
“Will you do us the honor of being our greeter?”
“What does a greeter do exactly?” I ask.
“You’ll stand in the foyer and welcome the people as they arrive and direct them to sign the guest book before one of the groomsmen escorts them to their seats. I know it’s not a glamorous job, but you and Morris didn’t make it official in enough time for me to have a bridesmaid dress made for you,” she begins to explain.
“Ansley, it’s not going to hurt my feelings to simply be a guest at your wedding,” I assure her.
“I know, but you’re family now, and I want you to be a part of my big day.”
I can hear the sincerity in her words.
I reach across the table and take her hand. “Then, I’d be honored to be your guest book person,” I accept.
She smiles huge. “Thank you. I had the boutique send over a couple of dresses they had in stock in your size that match the color scheme. Garrett put the box in your office this morning, along with a gift from us. Pick whichever dress you like best.”
Isley breezes in just as the tea is served. “Sorry I’m late. The live nativity at town hall got out of hand somehow. There are camels loose on Main Street. Wise men and shepherds in leather sandals chasing them on foot. It’s complete mayhem.”
“Aren’t Tucker and Caleb playing shepherds this year?” Sara-Beth asks.
“Yep, they’re having the time of their lives, trying to wrangle those beasts.”
“Have mercy.”
“I hope this isn’t an omen for how the rest of the week is going to go,” Ansley says.
“Don’t worry. If any animals get loose at your wedding, your greeter will handle it,” I assure her.
She looks at me and then bursts out laughing. Which causes us all to join her.
“No wedding day goes perfectly. There will be something that goes awry. You just have to let it all roll off your back and pivot in the moment. The only thing that matters is, at the end of the day, you are dancing with your new husband,” Leona states.
“Yeah, but not every wedding is being broadcast to the world,” Ansley mumbles.
“Hey, you listen to me. You forget those cameras are there. I know that becoming Mrs. Garrett Tuttle comes with some inconveniences, but I won’t let it stress you out so much that you don’t enjoy every second of your wedding day. I’ll wrangle those magazine people myself and toss them out on their asses,” Erin declares.
“I’ll help. I have experience with tossing photographers on their asses,” I volunteer.
