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“Holy sh… sparkle.” Nick set the drinks down. “We’ll talk later. Nell reserved a table outside for your meeting.”
“I’d better get to it. Congratulations again. Enjoy your drinks.”
On her way outside, servers waylaid her with more congratulations, more hugs. It felt, Morgan thought, very much like family. She’d barely taken a seat when Nell rushed over.
“Late. I hate to be late, but it happens.”
“It’s, like, two minutes.”
“Late is late. I need caffeine. Can Nick do an iced cappuccino as good as you?”
“Of course he can.”
“Great. Hey, Barry, iced cappuccino. Two?” she asked Morgan.
“Why not?”
“And I missed lunch. How about we split a cheese plate? I need something, since I’m going to sample your potential fall specialty cocktail for approval.”
“I like cheese.”
“Great. Thanks, Barry. Now,” she began immediately, “we’ll get to the business portion, but first I want to hear everything.”
“About what?”
Nell gave Morgan a long, hooded look. “Please. All I got from Miles was yeah, yeah, he gave you the ring, and it’s getting sized. I want details. How did he ask you?”
“He didn’t really. He more told me.”
Nell sat back, face covered with the unsurprised disgust only a sibling can manage. “Of course he did, the romantic fool.”
“But that was after he told me he loved me. He did that part really well.”
“Okay.” Willing to withhold judgment, Nell picked up the sparkling water Barry had already served. “Start at the beginning.”
“Well, the beginning really began when my ladies and I tested out the three finalists for the fall cocktail. Enthusiastically.”
“Oh boy, I’m going to enjoy this.”
And she did, laughing her way through half an iced cappuccino and a portion of a cheese plate.
“All right, he gets some points. And you’re happy. We’re all happy. I hope you know that.”
“I am, and I do.”
“So when and where? Have you decided?”
“In broad terms. I asked for spring and he said fine, as long as I move in with him by the New Year. He wants to end and begin the year with me.”
“Okay.” Cracker in one hand, Nell held up the other. “Major points for that. On Miles’s scale, that’s virtually sloppy romance. Spring. The where?”
“I know we could get married here, and it would be wonderful, but—”
“It’s not business, but it edges that way.”
“A little, but more, I’d like to get married at his house.”
“Your house,” Nell reminded her. “It would be your house, too. And I think that’s perfect, if my opinion counts. A spring garden wedding. What does Miles think?”
