“So,” Celeste continues with a bright, blinding smile. “Let’s talk venue! I know we’re on a compressed timeline, but I’ve pulled a few magic rabbits out of my hat, and I have three options ready to go.”
She slides her iPad across the table toward us. “Option one: Hillcrest Estate. Think Tuscan garden fantasy meets modern glam. Outdoor ceremony, sunset backdrop, rose arch. It’s giving timeless. Luxe. Romance with a capital R.”
Olive blinks. “Wow.”
I peer at the photos. It looks like something you’d propose under if you were a prince in a Netflix Christmas movie. “Do we get horses with it?”
Celeste hesitates, clearly unsure if I’m joking. “I’ll have to check,” she says, like a true professional.
“Next,” Olive says, fighting a smile.
Celeste flips the screen. “Option two: Glasshouse 99. Sleek, contemporary. Skyline views. Lots of steel, glass, and mood lighting. Industrial meets elegance.”
Olive glances at me. “That’s… veryyourvibe.”
“Cold and intimidating?”
“I was going to say brooding and dramatic.”
“Same thing.”
I keep my tone light, but there’s something in the way she looks at the image that makes my chest tighten. She doesn’t see herself there. It’s too sharp, too staged.
And then Celeste pulls up the third.
“Last option: Bellgrove Library.”
We both blink.
Olive sits up straighter. “Wait. Alibrary?”
“It’s a restored historic building in Pasadena,” Celeste explains. “Stained glass, cathedral ceilings, original shelves still intact. They host private events—quiet, romantic, full of charm. It’s available for a Friday next month. And it has excellent natural light.”
Olive leans toward the screen like she’s afraid it’ll disappear. “It’s gorgeous.”
I watch her expression soften as she flips through the photos—old books, long tables, arched windows glowing with amber light. Shelooks… enchanted.
“It’s like a storybook,” she says quietly.
And just like that, I know.
“This one,” I say, before Celeste can launch into catering options. “We’ll take the library.”
Olive glances over at me, surprised. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “You lit up like a Christmas tree. That’s how I know it’s the right place.”
Celeste beams. “Perfect! I’ll lock it in.”
As she starts tapping furiously on her tablet, Olive nudges my arm. “I thought you’d go for the edgy glass tower of doom.”
“Too many sharp corners. You’d trip on your dress.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Speaking of dresses… we’re on a tight timeline,” Celeste says briskly. “We’ll need to schedule fittings ASAP. I’ll send you a list of designers I trust with my life. What’s your style?”
Olive blinks. “Uh… functional?”
