I take in another breath and look up at Siena. “Okay. We’ll tell her after.”
She nods, and our gazes hold. Something about the way she looks right now has my stomach in knots. Maybe it’s the contrast with how she looked the night of her date with Philippe. He might have had her when she was all done up, but I get her like this: in sweats, no makeup, and half her hair undone. I don’t envy Philippe at all.
I force my feet to stay planted where they are. “I want to kiss you so bad right now.”
Her gaze drops to my lips, like she’s considering it. She swallows. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I disagree. But I’ll refrain, anyway. Just know, though, that next time I kiss you, Sheppard, I’m kissing for keeps.”
She meets my eyes, her own filled with hesitation and hope.
I startle as my phone rings in my pocket. “Geez, that’s loud.” I scramble to get it out. The number is international, and I swipe to answer, desperate to stop the jarring ringing. This is exactly why I always have my phone on vibrate.
“Hello?”
“Is this Jack Allred?” The speech is halting and heavily accented.
“Yeah, this is Jack.”
“This is Martin from Phénix. I received a message from you earlier this evening.”
I glance at Siena and put up a finger to let her know I’ll just be a second. “Yeah, thanks for returning my call.”
“Of course. I am sorry we did not see your emails earlier. Antoine was out of town, and he is the one who takes care of that. I wanted to check with you on a point of confusion.”
“Yeah, sure, what’s up?” I walk over to the counter and point out the empty strawberry container to Siena.
She raises her brows, and I take a bow, confirming I’m the one responsible for finishing them.
“In your message, you mentioned Thursday.”
I chuck the empty container in the garbage can. French garbage cans are made to hold the equivalent of two kids’ juice boxes, so it clatters to the floor. “Yeah, that’s right.”
“I think there is a mistake. The original booking email said Wednesday.”
I pause, my hand on the empty carton. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir. I verified before calling you. We confirmed for the ninth.”
I don’t say anything, trying to process what’s happening.
He continues. “Sadly, we have booked another event the evening of the tenth—another wedding.”
Still crouched, I look over at Siena. Her eyes are on me, wide and intent, like she senses something’s not right.
“I see.” I stand up, forgetting all about the stupid carton.
“Do you by chance need music on the 9th?”
Oh, man. This is bad. Really bad. “Um, no. We don’t.” That’s the day of the civil ceremony at City Hall.
“That is too bad.” He sighs. “The deposit is non-refundable at this date, as it is too late for us to book another event, but because of the situation, we will return half.”
I barely hear him, trying to decide how in the world I’m going to break the news to Siena. “That’s generous. Thank you. I can call you tomorrow to figure all of that out.”
When I hang up a minute later, there’s a long, uncomfortable silence. I consider lying to Siena, telling her that everything’s fine. But I can’t. I can’t lie to her. Something tells me she’d notice the lack of a band.
“What is it?”
