“He had the ring hidden in a special box,” Anica added, “that played our song when it opened.”
“Ah yes, our song,” I said, looking at her expectantly. “What was it again, darling?”
Her smile tightened. “You know very well it was ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love.’”
“No, sweetheart, you’re confusing it with the song from our first dance. The proposal box played ‘Gold Digger.’”
Ms. Windsor’s pen stopped moving.
“He’s such a joker,” Anica said with a laugh that sounded like she was being waterboarded. “What he actually said was that he’d never met anyone who challenged him the way I do.”
That part hit uncomfortably close to truth.
“And the ring?” Ms. Windsor prompted, clearly enjoying our discomfort.
“Being sized,” we said in unison.
“It needed to be adjusted,” Anica elaborated. “Callan initially got a ring that was much too large.”
“Because I thought her fingers matched the size of her ambition,” I added.
“Very funny,darling,” she pinched me again on the thigh. “I just have narrow fingers.” She wiggled her fingers to demonstrate.
I smirked. “You know what they say about women with little fingers…” I let the words trail off, but neither woman laughed. Instead, both narrowed their eyes at me, and Ms. Windsor lowered her glasses to intensify her glare.
“No, I don’t know what they say about little fingers, Mr. Burkhardt. Why don’t you enlighten me?” Ms. Windsor’s glare darkened, and I straightened in the chair. The room was quite a bit warmer than it had been a second earlier.
“Um, they, um… They have big hearts.” I clicked my tongue and pointed my finger. “Yup. That’s it.”
Anica rolled her eyes. “Anyways, like I was saying, the ring kept sliding off and falling into my soup at the celebration dinner,” she continued, her smile now fixed in place like rigor mortis.
“The waiter was very understanding about fishing it out of the lobster bisque,” I added.
Ms. Windsor sighed, setting down her pen. “Mr. Burkhardt, Ms. Marcel... I’ve been managing this venue for forty-seven years. I’ve seen every type of couple imaginable. Nervous couples, overexcited couples, couples who clearly despise each other but are proceeding for family reasons.” She leaned forward, the light catching her pearl necklace in a way that made it look like a row of judgmental eyeballs. “What I’ve never seen is a couple who can’t keep their story straight about basic details of their relationship.”
Anica tensed beside me, likely preparing for the dismissal that was surely coming.
“However,” Ms. Windsor continued, “your grandmother is a valued patron of this estate, Mr. Burkhardt. And despite your... unusual circumstances, I’m willing to pencil you in.”
The tightness in my muscles loosened. Gram would be excited that the wedding could be here, and anything that made her happy made me happy. “Thank you, Ms. Windsor. You won’t regret it.”
“You mentioned wanting a date three months from now. While we often do have our venue booked this close to the date, we had a recent drop out on the last Saturday in September. Take it or leave it.” She closed her leather-bound appointment book. “I must warn you that we’ll require a non-refundable deposit of thirty-five thousand dollars by the end of the week.”
“We’ll take it,” I said immediately, ignoring Anica’s sharp intake of breath.
“Very well. I’ll have my assistant show you the grounds and discuss the particulars. I assume you’ll want the same spot where your grandmother was married?”
I nodded, finding it difficult to speak. The same spot. Where my grandmother had pledged herself to a man who would eventually break her heart so thoroughly that she’d never remarry.
Ms. Windsor stood, smoothing her already immaculate suit. “One last thing, Mr. Burkhardt. We don’t allow karaoke, chocolate fountains, or those dreadful photo booths with feather boas and plastic sunglasses. Rhodes Estate is a venue for tasteful celebrations, not carnival midways.”
“No inflatable bounce houses either?” I asked, giving my best puppy dog face. “I was hoping to enter my reception in formal attire via slide.”
Her expression suggested I’d proposed holding the ceremony in a Chuck E. Cheese. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Ms. Windsor left to fetch her assistant, and the moment the door closed, Anica turned to me, eyes blazing as she smacked me in the shoulder. It was cute.
“What the hell was that?” she demanded, keeping her voice low.
