Page 32 of The Plus One Professional
No. It couldn’t be. Could it?
After taking a deep breath, I heard my Grandpa Bill’s voice saying, “Life’s tough, but so are you. Suck it up, Buttercup.” He always loved saying that to me and my sisters. If we fell off our bikes, or if one of us didn’t want to eat whatever dinner was prepared, or if we complained about homework. “Life is tough, but so are you. Suck it up, Buttercup.”
As a kid, it irritated me. But he’d been gone for ten years, and I couldn’t count the number of times I’d heard his voice in my head saying the thing that used to frustrate me. Now, it got me through hard things.
When I walked back out, I saw that Simon was seated beside Devin on the tufted bride and groom high back loveseat that sat against the brick wall. His hand was resting on her knee. The knee that was attached to her mile-long legs. Unlike the past two times I’d seen Devin, today she was wearing a sundress that hit her mid-thigh. Mid-tanned-toned-thigh.
“We only had Earl Grey.” I set the tea down in front of her, and as she leaned forward, his hand slid from her leg. I wondered if that was for my benefit. Not that I had any illusions that anything Simon did or did not do was for my benefit. Today cured me of that misgiving.
“So, your wedding is in two weeks.” I started the appointment the same way I would with any other couple. “We still have?—"
“I didn’t know Devin hired you as our wedding coordinator,” Simon interrupted me.
“I’m sure I mentioned it, baby.” She smiled up at him adoringly.
Simon ignored her and continued staring at me. “I don’t want you to work at my wedding.”
“Oh, okay.” Seriously, I wasn’t sure this could get any more awkward. If they were going to fire me, I felt like that could have been done over email.
“I want you there as a guest. You’re my oldest friend.”
Friend. Right. Andoldestat that. Maybe that was what the problem was.
Devin had mentioned to Birdie that she’d just turned twenty-two. And Simon would be turning forty this year. Maybe he’d wanted a young wife, and I’d aged out of the running.
“I didn’t realize that you were on the guest list,” Devin explained to me.
Guest list?“Oh, okay.”
“You look surprised you’re invited,” Devin commented as she took another sip from her tea.
“I didn’t…um… I never got an invitation.”
“I wanted to give it to you in person.” Simon reached into his coat pocket and handed me a gorgeous, lavender-scented, gold-lettered envelope that was Bridgerton-worthy. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you.”
“Right. Phone tag.” That’s why he wanted to see me. So he could invite me to his wedding. His wedding to a twenty-something leggy brunette who was the antithesis of me.
“Well, maybe your sisters can run the wedding,” Devin suggested.
“I’m inviting Billie and Birdie, too,” Simon announced.
“You are?” I asked.
“Of course.”
Of course?I might understand why he would invite Birdie; they’d always gotten along. But Billie never liked him.
“You have all been family to me.” He took out two more invitations, one addressed to Birdie and one to Billie.
My chest hurt, and the walls felt like they were closing in on me. First, I was his oldest friend, and now my sisters and I were hisfamily?
“How about this? I can use the on-site coordinator for the day of, and you can keep working your magic until then. There. Done. Problem solved.” Devin appeared so proud of herself, one would think she’d just cured cancer.
Simon shifted his attention to his betrothed. “I do not want Bay working my wedding.”
At Simon’s harsh tone, Devin looked like someone had just kicked her puppy. I could see that this was causing tension between them.
I don’t know if it was the people-pleaser in me or if it was my instincts as a coordinator to solve any problems or if I could see how upset this was making Simon, and I didn’t want to be the cause of any pain for him, but I heard myself saying, “I think Devin’s suggestion can work. I can liaise with the coordinator at the vineyard and pass the baton day of.”
