“It’ll be perfect.” I moved behind her, close enough to smell vanilla and cinnamon—her signature scent that I’d never get tired of. “Though you know everyone’s just going to be focused on the hot chocolate bar.”
She turned, grinning up at me. “Twelve toppings.”
“I’ll never understand why anyone needs twelve options.”
“Because choice is freedom, Grady. Freedom is joy. Joy is?—”
“Christmas spirit, I know.” I pulled her against me, unable to resist. Three years together, and I still couldn’t keep my hands off her. “You’ve explained this philosophy extensively.”
“And yet you still book events with sad, boring dessert tables.”
“Corporate clients don’t want whimsy. They want?—”
“Boring professionalism, I know.” She mimicked my tone perfectly, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
This. This was what I never knew I needed. Someone who challenged me, teased me, made me remember that perfection wasn’t the only goal worth chasing.
Mollie had taught me that messy could be beautiful. That chaos could create magic I’d never find in a spreadsheet.
Though I’d never admit how many spreadsheets I’d made for tonight’s party.
“Show me the controls again,” she said, turning back to the panel. “I want to understand how you make it all work.”
I reached around her, caging her against the console with my arms. “This button controls the main chandelier.” I pressed it, and below us, the crystal fixture dimmed to a gentle glow. “This one activates the perimeter lights.” Golden warmth flooded the edges of the room. “And this—” I hovered over the star effect button, “—creates the winter constellation.”
I pressed it, and above the empty venue, crystalline stars cascaded across the ceiling in patterns that seemed to dance and shimmer.
Mollie’s breath caught. “It’s beautiful. Every single time, it takes my breath away.”
“That’s the idea.” I rested my chin on her shoulder, looking down at the room we’d transformed together over the years. Hervision, my execution. Her heart, my structure. “Though I think we should adjust the timing on the transition. Maybe add a five-second fade instead of?—”
“Grady.”
“What?”
She turned in my arms, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “We have two hours until everyone arrives.”
“I know. Which is why we need to finalize?—”
“We’ve finalized everything. Three times. You have backup plans for your backup plans.”
“That’s just good event management.”
“That’s obsessive control.” But her eyes were practically sparkling as her hands slid up my chest. “And I love your need to make everything perfect…”
“But?”
“But right now, I’m more interested in a different kind of control.”
Heat shot through me. Three years, and she could still undo me with a look. “Mollie, the party?—”
“Is two hours away. The room is ready. The caterer is on schedule. Everything is perfect.” Her fingers found my tie, loosening it slowly. “And we’re alone. In a soundproof booth. Where no one can see us.”
I glanced at the window overlooking the venue. “Someone could walk in?—”
“The door locks.” She was already reaching past me, and I heard the click of the deadbolt engaging. “And I happen to know the owner personally. I don’t think he’ll mind.”
My hands found her hips, pulling her closer. “The owner has very strict policies about appropriate venue usage.”
