“Oh, joy. What about the bride?”
“Not sure. I haven’t heard her speak a word yet.” She raised an eyebrow significantly. “She’s very sweet and blonde and delicate. I was considering slipping her a note to see if she’s here of her own free will, but she keeps giving the bastard these besotted looks, so…” She shrugged.
“Tell me there’s a responsible adult in the room?” I begged. “Tell me there’s a reason I climbed out of my warm bed?” My warm,very occupiedbed.
“Sorta? Father of the groom is here. He’s not drunk, that I can tell, and at least he’s vocal. Erm. Possiblytoovocal.”
“The father of thegroom?” That was unusual.
Charlotte threw up her hands. “Not a clue. Far as I know, the bride’s family is footing the bill, but the groom’s family is making all the decisions.”
I breathed in through my nose. The choice to leave Con in bed seemed dumber and dumber by the minute. “I’m not sure if this is the best fit for Blooms,” I began.
Charlotte selected a sheet of paper from her desk and handed it over. It was a client intake form, with all the general information about the bride and groom, including the—
“Holy shit,” I said. “This floral budget. Is that a typo?”
“Not a typo,” Charlotte said with a grin.
“It’s the gross domestic product of a small nation.”
“Did I not mention that the bride is the heir to the Kelly Pharmaceuticals fortune?”
I glanced at her over the top of the paper. “You may have missed that critical fact.”
“Suddenly more appealing?” she said wryly.
“I find myself marginally more inclined to deal with this shit show, yes.”
“Funny how an extra zero can change so much, hmm?”
I sighed.Seriously.
“You can go and wait for them in room one,” she said. “I’ll show them in as soon as they get back and we can go over details so you can work up a proposal.”
I nodded and got to my feet… then I had a thought. “What time is Angela coming?” Often potential clients scheduled appointments with several vendors for the same day, and it was always awkward walking out when someone else was walking in, especially when that someone was the mother of the man you’d been secretly shagging, oh,eight hours ago.
“She’s not,” Charlotte said.
I frowned. “Is she sick?” I wondered. I dismissed the idea as soon as I said the words. Forthisamount of money, Angela would have dragged herself here even if she had Ebolaandthe plague.
“Nope. Clients absolutely didn’t want her. Wouldn’t even consider it,” she said with a frown. I knew Charlotte and Angela were at least as friendly as Charlotte and I were.
“That’s…odd.”
“Odder than a groom who shows up inebriated at this hour, with an interferingfather, and a budget that could get me a down payment on a small island? Who knows why rich people do what they do, Micah?”
“Well, that’s for damn sure.” I tucked the sheet of paper into my case. “See you in a few.”
“There’s fresh coffee in there, too,” she called. “Grab a cup and become as perky as I am!”
I snorted as I walked out. I didn’t need coffee. All I had to do was fantasize about landing this contract, which would make Marissa Corcoran’s Valentine’s Day wedding seem like child’s play, and give me exactly the boost I needed to move forward with mynewfinancial plan. The plan where I stepped back, slowed down, and for the first time in my life, acknowledged that there was something more important than making my business successful.
My phone buzzed with a new email alert and I slid it out of my pocket as I walked into the meeting room. The little space was decorated with an understated luxury and smelled like chai tea, probably not by accident. Someone, somewhere, had no doubt realized the scent of fancy cafe drinks made it easier to convince clients to part with their money.
I sat in the chair furthest from the door and started skimming.
Hello, Mr. Bloom —
