Instead, I simply nod and say, “Yes, in every sense of the word.”
Evidently—by the fury blazing in Ebony’s eyes—that was the wrong response.
She immediately interjects, “What I think he means is I’ve made it abundantly clear that not only will we meet your expectation of the job…” She pauses, and they’re stuck at some sort of an impasse. A subliminal challenge waged right before our eyes. Then she continues, sharply, “…we’ll exceed it. We’ll restore the beautiful heritage of this historic manor, on schedule, for a timeless wedding.” She turns away from Cornelia with a downright sinister smile on her face as she shifts her focus to Hailey. “Trust me, it’s going to be breathtaking.”
Well, hell. I guess she didn’t need me to have her back.
“I do,” I reply. “Implicitly.”
Ebony flashes me an intense stare, watching me curiously. Which, considering our texts last week, and now my overselling of her qualities to her ex-mother-in-law, I get.
A few seconds later, she enters Madison Manor with Cornelia trailing on her heels, leaving Hailey and I knee-deep in their wreckage.
“Damn,” she and I say in unison.
She offers me a warm smile, lingering for just a beat longer than necessary. “Ugh.That was probably about Julian,” she says, and even if it’s an act, she’s got the decency to look contrite on behalf of her soon-to-be brother-in-law.
It makes me pay attention.
Half of me unsympathetically feels she should’ve anticipated the War of the Livingstons when she asked Ebony to plan this wedding—fresh off a divorce due to the “irreconcilable difference” of public infidelity. But the other part of me? I’m looking at Hailey’s pained expression and the way her shoulders are pulled low.
Sometimes, you can’t control whom you fall for. Other times, that person isn’t the one you’re supposed to be with, and you deal with it.
A soft sigh spills out of me.
“Listen, Hailey, you’re probably right. Those two have been battling long before today. So how about for now we focus on you, hmm?” I playfully nudge her shoulder with mine, waiting until she meets my stare. “And congratulations again.”
“Thanks.” Hailey’s lips curve up slightly. “I’m so in love with that man, I don’t what to do with myself.”
Again, I study her, dissecting her tone, the inflection in her voice, now paying way too much attention to body language, thanks to Dom. Surprisingly, though—despite my inherent biases, knowing the stock she comes from—I don’t get the “Land a Livingston” craze from her. She didn’t thrust her hand out to wiggle her ring finger in my face like a gemstone trophy to gloat over.
This feels genuine.
Families are made up of individuals,I remind myself, considering maybe I’ve misjudged her.
“Probably a good thing.” I smile at her. “It’s going to be an exciting chapter.”And a wedding that’s going to beone for the books.
When we rejoin the others inside, Ebony wastes no time getting down to business.
“Firstly, I’d like to thank you for being here today. In the essence of time, I thought it would be the best way to ensure we’re all on the same page logistically before I continue confirming with the vendors.” She pauses, making individual eye contact for our buy-in. “Fantastic!” She perks up, smiling at me. “Now—”
“Wait, I really want to echo that sentiment. Thank you, from Donovan and I, too.” Hailey beams at us, her eyes brimming with tears. “Truly, for making this dream into a reality.” Her lower lip quivers.
Fortunately, Cornelia’s here to hand her a balled-up pocket tissue and a coolthere, therepat on the shoulder.
Lord.
Ebony softens, meeting Hailey’s watery gaze. “We are just as lucky. We can’t wait to transform this…romantically illustrious, historic venue for this monumental occasion. It’s going to be stunning,” she says, and then proceeds to make us believe it.
She ushers us out of the bright foyer, guiding us into the center of the reception hall, where she paints a vivid picture with carefully curated buzzwords. She calls it a five-star luxury manor that channels romance, history, and style. A worldly escape of the highest caliber, and even higher style.
My mouth is on the ground.
To hear her talk about how it will be “quintessentially Ellswood,” and watch Cornelia and Hailey eat it up—it’s an acutely skilled talent. I can just imagine these two going back, gabbing to their so-called elite friends about the dedicated catering staff. The six elegantly designed suites to accommodate wedding guests. The way Ebony sells it, space isn’t the issue because it’s “an intimate yet worldly escape.”
She makes it look so easy.
A small, proud laugh bubbles in the back of my throat.
