“That’s not an answer.”
“It was fine.” Aside from the part where I didn’t sleep. But I can’t tell her that. Not without admitting that it was the thought of losing her in twenty-four hours that had me lying awake all night.
She gives me a look that says she doesn’t believe me but isn’t going to push it. “Well, thank you. You’re a real gentleman.”
The morning light is stronger now, streaming through the windows and making the lake visible—patches of ice and dark water, pine trees framing the view.
“Want to go for a walk?” I ask. “Before the wedding chaos starts?”
“You read my mind. I need to move before Maya finds me and starts panicking about something.”
We grab our coats—hers a puffy jacket that makes her look tiny, mine the standard wool coat I use all winter—and we head downstairs together, coffee cups in hand like we’re a normal couple doing normal couple things.
The lobby is starting to wake up. A family with small kids heading toward breakfast. An older couple reading newspapers by the fireplace that’s been relit. The smell of bacon and coffee drifting from the restaurant.
“Excuse me?” A woman’s voice stops us near the entrance. “Are you Chloe Dawson?”
We turn. She’s maybe forty, dressed in a way that’s giving off a covert-professional vibe. Slim jeans, sweater, expensive boots. Holding a tablet and wearing a press credential on a lanyard.
“Yes?” Chloe says, sounding uncertain.
“I’m Jennifer Hartley, fromMinnesota Bridal Magazine. I’m here to cover the Dawson–Munson wedding.” She’s smiling, friendly. “Felicity Grant mentioned you’re the event planner who planned not only the wedding but also the prewedding events? I’d love to chat with you about your business while I’m here. Get your perspective on what makes a great wedding.”
Chloe’s eyes widen. “Oh. Um, yeah. Sure. I’d love to.”
Jennifer’s gaze falls on me. Studies me for a moment. “Oh my goodness, you’re?—”
“Brody Kane.” I extend my hand. “I’m with Chloe.”
The words come out before I can think about them.I’m with Chloe.Not “I’m her date for the wedding.” Not “We’re seeing each other.” Just…I’m with her.
It feels right.
“Oh!” Jennifer’s smile widens. “I’d heard you two are dating. What a great story—the event planner and her hockey player. Would you both be willing to sit for a quick interview?”
Chloe looks at me. I nod. Why not?
“Sure,” Chloe says.
We end up in a corner of the lobby, sitting in leather chairs arranged around a coffee table. Jennifer pulls out her tablet, opens a recording app, and launches into questions. I settle in, ready to face the usual onslaught I’ve come to expect during interviews—anything to get me off-kilter, reveal something I didn’t want to share. But today, I’m not being asked anything. Jennifer seems focused entirely on Chloe.
Which feels weird, but I’m not complaining.
“So tell me about your business. How did you get started in event planning?”
Chloe sets down her coffee cup. Takes a breath. And starts talking.
And I watch her transform.
Gone is the nervous, self-deprecating woman who apologizes for taking up space. Instead, she’s confident. Passionate. Talking about how she started planning events for her family, Maya’s engagement party, the bridal-cation, how she learned to see what people really wanted versus what they thought they should want, how every event tells a story about the people at the center of it.
“The best weddings aren’t about perfection,” she says, gesturing with her hands in that animated way she has when she’s excited. “They’re about authenticity. About creating moments that feel true to the couple, not just true to Pinterest boards and wedding magazines.” She pauses, then grins. “No offense.”
Jennifer laughs. “None taken. That’s a refreshing perspective.”
“I think people get so caught up in the performance of weddings—the Instagram photos, the perfect details—that they forget to enjoy the day. To be present with each other and their loved ones.” Chloe leans forward. “My job isn’t to create magazine-perfect events. It’s to create events where people feel seen and celebrated for who they really are.”
She’s glowing. Animated. Completely in her element, even if she doesn’t know it.
