"The blue is pretty," Caleb says quietly, surprising everyone. "I mean, it's nice. With her eyes and stuff."
The table goes silent, and warmth creeps up my face as Caleb downs half his water glass in one gulp.
"Well," Magnolia recovers first, her green eyes calculating beneath her perfectly styled blond waves. "How . . . sweet. Though the photographer I chose—"
"The photographerwechose," Sarah corrects gently, but Magnolia presses on regardless.
"Your hair is fun," Delilah adds, twirling her own red curls, her freckled shoulders visible in her off-shoulder sundress. "Very mystical. Like those girls who read tarot at the mall. Do you also do readings? Though Mama always says that's not exactly a sustainable lifestyle choice."
"She owns a bookstore," Caleb mutters.
"A metaphysical bookstore," I correct.
"How . . . innovative." Magnolia takes a delicate sip of wine. "Preston, honey, didn't you say something about Barnes & Noble's quarterly reports? Such a shame about independent bookstores these days."
"Actually," Sarah cuts in, "Ivy's store is doing amazingly well. Matt and I visited last year, remember?"
My cheeks heat. "It's—"
"Remarkable," Preston says, actually looking interested. "In this economy? With print books? What's your secret?"
Crystal grids and intention setting. "Community engagement and careful inventory management."
"Spoken like a true entrepreneur!" Preston booms, making Greg nod in agreement. "Matt, you should take notes. That position in Charleston—"
"Dad," Sarah interjects softly, her hand finding Matt's under the table. "We love Boston."
"Maybe after the wedding," Magnolia smoothly cuts in. "Speaking of which, honey, I've been thinking about the table arrangements. The florist I chose—"
"The onewechose," Sarah murmurs.
"—suggested white peonies would be much more suitable than those wildflowers you mentioned. So I went ahead and made the change. And the band's repertoire needed some adjustments. I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of . . ."
Virginia catches my eye across the table. "Ivy, you and Caleb aren't . . ." She gestures between us with a smile that sets my teeth on edge.
"Just friends," we say in unison.
"Perfect." Virginia's smirk turns playful as she shifts her attention to Caleb. "I heard you're still breaking hearts all over Hallow's End?"
Jefferson's grip on his utensils turns brutal.
"Something like that," Caleb shrugs, but his hand finds mine under the table, squeezing once. The gesture catches me off guard.
"Well then," Virginia leans forward, all calculated grace, "save me a drink tonight?"
I've never disliked anyone, but something about Virginia makes me want to dump my water glass over her head.
"Maybe," Caleb says vaguely, his thumb brushing across my knuckles before letting go.
"Don't be coy," Virginia purrs. "Come find me later tonight."
Jefferson's water glass joins his fork in what's becoming a growing collection of abused tableware.
"Now, about tomorrow's schedule," Kristal twirls into view, her tiny frame vibrating with the energy of a hummingbird on espresso. "Bridal party yoga starts at seven-thirty a.m. sharp—"
"While the boys have their own plans," Virginia interjects. "Though hopefully nothing like Jefferson's birthday party. I heard that strip club incident was quite educational."
Matt clears his throat. "We have a structured day planned."
