“Nope. No clue.” He turns away to start setting up the bar for tonight.
“They’re just trying to get closer to my Ginny’s day. It’s all Gigi’s doing. I’m sure she thinks she can intimidate us with her daddy’s oil money.” Mrs. Rattles leans her elbows on the counter and gets closer to me.
I try to back up, but Ben is behind me, cleaning the glasses.
“Mrs. Rattles,” I say. “Once Gigi decided to have two weddings, I’m sure there was some conflict or another, and so she simply changed the Darcy date without giving a thought to anyone else. It’s like nothing’s an obstacle for that girl.”
“Well, everything’s an obstacle on our end.” Mrs. Rattles sniffs. “I want this wedding date changed ASAP! At least a couple of days before Logan’s.”
“But whoever goes first doesn’t necessarily win, Mama,” Ginny says. “It’s about who’s right for each other.”
“I don’t care about the stupid ghost story and its silly claims about being right or wrong!” Mrs. Rattles says. “Virginia, you will open that door and get all the good press that comes with it. You will!”
Her shouts scare Mr. Bingley, and he wisely jumps off Ginny’s lap and disappears down the hall.
“Try to relax, Mrs. Rattles.” I look down at the calendar. “How’s June thirtieth? That could work on our end.”
“Fine. I’ll call everyone but the florist. Mace, can you do that for me?”
“Of course.”
Mrs. Rattles grabs Ginny by the arm and drags her out of the bar.
While I’m on my cell with Lexi, begging her to come through with the bridal bouquet earlier than planned, Logan walks through the door.
He’s wearing his cowboy hat, and sweat’s coming off his brow, so I know he’s been working in the fields. His t-shirt’s damp, and his arms are slightly sunburned. He looks hot in more ways than one.
I haven’t seen him since we all went tubing the other day.
He walks up to the bar and folds his arms over the counter. I let Ben make him a Loganiskey, and I wait until he’s halfway through drinking it before I hang up with Lexi.
“That went okay, thank goodness,” I say to Ben before turning to Logan. “I have to change everything because you and your fiancée changed your wedding date again. Did you go to my father for the approval? Because I certainly didn’t know about the change on our schedule.”
Ben looks around for something to do, but he can’t move from behind the bar because Logan and I are right over the swing door. He gives up and listens to our conversation with interest.
Logan exhales. “I’m not trying to screw up anyone’s schedule. Gigi said we had to change the date or we couldn’t go to Orlando. I don’t know why; that’s what her wedding planner told her. They got a cancellation for July seventh for the castle, so she figured—why wait?”
“Why wait,” I repeat.
“So in order to get to Florida in time, she had to move the Darcy wedding back.”
“Look, I’m maiden of honor for the most difficult redneck-Victorian wedding ever,” I say as Ben breaks into a laugh. “Complete with a dominating mother, an untrustworthy groom, and a very reluctant bride. And when Gigi gets involved and keeps calling the shots…”
“Sounds like you don’t want to come to my wedding,” Logan says slowly. “And I understand, Mace. I’m sor…”
But I cut him off. “Of course I don’t! The last thing on God’s green earth I’ve ever wanted to do is witness Logan Wild’s wedding to somebody who’s…”
“Not me” nearly slips out, but I rein in those last two words just in time.
I glance over at Ben, and I know he knows what I was about to say. He swallows and looks at Logan, who reaches out like he’s going to touch my hand but then pulls back at the last second.
“You’re a great friend to Ginny,” Logan says gently. “But you and I have always had our doubts about Ginny and Dave. They’re the cliché. You know, marrying your high school sweetheart for all the wrong reasons.”
“Doesn’t have to be a high school sweetheart to be wrong,” Ben says casually. “There are bad relationships all over the place.”
Logan gives Ben a hard look as he downs the rest of his drink and stands up. “I’ll see y’all on Saturday at the County Fair.”
“Have you entered the bronc riding competition?” I ask him curiously.
