I felt my throat tighten unexpectedly. “Really?”
“Of course, really. Who else would it be?”
“I don’t know, I just thought... maybe someone Logan? Or someone local? Someone who’s been there with you through all of this?”
“Xavier, you’ve been there with me through everything that matters. The fact that you’re in New York doesn’t change that. So, what do you say?”
I blinked rapidly, refusing to let myself get emotional over this. “Obviously yes, you idiot. I’d be honored.”
“Good. Because Beau’s already planning to ask Dolly to be his best man… lady… thing, and I need you there to balance out all thecountryenergy.”
“They’re called ‘Best Woman’. And Dolly?” I asked, giggling. “Is she like… a cow whisperer or something?”
“Xavier.”
“What? I’m just asking for... research purposes. You know, to better understand the dynamic for wedding planning.”
“Uh-huh. Well, Dolly is the owner of the diner. She actually serves Beau’s award-winning barbecue, and we provide her with beef. But I don’t think she sees the cows while they’re alive…”
“Thebeefwhisperer,” I chuckled. “Got it.”
“She’s great, you’ll love her,” Lucas said.
I made a note in my file. If this Dolly woman was going to be in the wedding party, I’d need to coordinate with her on dress fittings and colors. God, I hoped she wasn’t one of those women who insisted on wearing what she wanted regardless of the aesthetic. I’d dealt with enough bridezillas’ mothers to last a lifetime, and I didn’t need a best woman with strong opinions about gingham.
“Alright, so you, me, and Dolly. Anyone else?”
“There’s going to be a few other people helping out. Logan’s going to be one of the groomsmen, obviously. And there’s a handful of friends and family that want to be involved on Beau’s side.”
“Sounds like quite the crew,” I said, settling deeper into my couch. “What about vendors? Please tell me there’s at least one decent caterer in the area.”
“Well, we were thinking Dolly could do the catering, actually. Her restaurant does events.”
I paused, my wine glass halfway to my lips. “Lucas. Honey. I love you. But a diner is not wedding catering.”
“You haven’t tried her food yet,” he said defensively. “Seriously, Xavier, it’s incredible. And it would mean a lot to us to keep things local.”
Local. Of course. Because why would we hire someone from Austin or Dallas when we could have Dolly the beef whisperer serving brisket at a black-tie event? I pinched the bridge of my nose and reminded myself that this was Lucas’s wedding, not mine.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “I’ll need to do a tasting when I come down. And we’ll need to talk about presentation, plating, service staff?—”
“Already on it. Dolly’s done weddings before.”
“How many?”
“At least... three?”
“Three.” I took another sip of wine. “Lucas, I’ve done three hundred weddings. Three hundred and forty-seven, to be exact.”
“Which is why I need you there to make sure everything’s perfect,” he said smoothly. “You can work with Dolly, make sure it meets your standards.”
Our standards, I wanted to correct, but I bit my tongue. This was going to be an adventure, that was for sure. “Fine. But if the food isn’t up to par, we’re bringing someone else in.”
“Deal. Thank you, X. Really. This means everything to me.”
His sincerity made my chest ache. “I know. And I’m going to make sure it’s perfect, I promise. Even if I have to drag civilization to Texas one sequin at a time.”
Lucas laughed again, and we spent the next hour going over more details—guest accommodations, timeline, a budget that made me wince, but I’d work with it, and his vision for the ceremony itself. By the time we hung up, I had pages of notes, and my wine bottle was empty.
