How many official bookings did we end up with yesterday? Did I help set any new records?
I stared at the message for a moment before hitting send, wondering if it was inappropriate to text her while on a date with a potential bride. But it was a professional question, right? Just checking in on business matters. Totally appropriate.
A few minutes passed with no response. Angelina returned, looking refreshed and even more beautiful, if that was possible. But my attention was divided, part of me still waiting for that text notification.
When my phone finally buzzed, I tried not to look too eager as I checked it. The message wasn’t from Anica, but from her assistant, Devonna.
This is Devonna using Anica’s phone. She can’t respond right now. Major emergency at a client’s wedding.
Glancing at Angelina, I made sure her focus was on the view of the city before texting a quick reply.
Everything alright? Where’s the wedding?
Devonna responded quicker than before, probably because she had the phone handy.
Sprinkler system malfunction at venue in Brooklyn. Everything and everyone is soaked. Anica’s trying to salvage the situation. The bride is hysterical. The DJ equipment is ruined. Only bright side is that the drunk groomsmen sobered up fast after their impromptu shower.
I stared at the text. Anica was dealing with a crisis. At least Devonna was with her. Hopefully she was over her food poisoning. I doubted Mari was there.
“Is everything alright?” Angelina asked, running a manicured finger along my arm on the table. I pulled back.
“I’m sorry,” I said, already calculating the fastest route to Brooklyn. “Something’s come up. A work emergency.”
Angelina’s perfect eyebrows drew together in concern. “Anything serious?”
“Potentially,” I said, signaling for the check. “I’m really sorry to cut this short.”
“I understand,” she said, though her tone suggested she didn’t. “Business comes first.”
I paid the bill and walked her to the car, my mind already elsewhere. After a quick text to Devonna asking for the venue address, I drove Angelina home, trying to maintain polite conversation while fighting the inexplicable need to get to Anica as quickly as possible.
“I had a lovely time,” Angelina said as I walked her to her door. “Despite the abrupt ending.”
“Me too,” I replied automatically. “I’ll call you.”
She leaned in for a kiss, which I awkwardly redirected to her cheek. “Work emergency,” I explained. “I should really get going.”
If she was offended, she hid it well. “Of course. Good luck with your... emergency.”
As soon as she was safely inside, I sprinted back to my car, inputting the address Devonna had sent into my GPS. Twenty minutes away in current traffic. I could make it in fifteen if I pushed it.
As I drove, I tried to rationalize my behavior. I was just helping out a service provider. The kind of thing any decent client would do. The fact that my heart was racing had nothing to do with Anica specifically. I was just... a good person. Who happened to be abandoning a date with a perfect woman to help my wedding planner with a crisis that wasn’t remotely my problem.
The scene at the venue was exactly as chaotic as I’d imagined. The hotel’s grand ballroom, which should have been elegantly decorated for a wedding reception, looked like a miniature tsunami had swept through it. Water dripped from the ceiling, staff rushed around with towels and mops, and in the center ofit all stood Anica, soaking wet and issuing rapid-fire instructions like a general commanding troops.
Her normally perfect hair was plastered to her head, her dress clung to her body in a way that was distractingly appealing, outlining curves that her usual professional attire only hinted at, and she had a smear of what looked like mascara under one eye. She looked like she’d been through hell.
She looked beautiful.
I made my way through the chaos, catching snippets of conversations about ruined flowers, drenched linens, and a bride who was apparently having a breakdown in the bridal suite.
“Anica,” I called, navigating around a cluster of soggy centerpieces.
She turned at the sound of my voice, her eyes widening. “Callan? What are you doing here?”
“Devonna texted,” I explained, reaching her side. “Said you had an emergency.”
“Yes, but—” She gestured helplessly at my suit. “You were on your date!”
