“Never!” I swore. “That is the one cardinal rule of fake relationships—do not fall in love. Ever. Now let’s go eat pizza, and you can help me plan my wedding.”
I didn’t like Blade; I was tolerating him. We were working together toward a common goal, and part of that included kissing. People kissed people they weren’t in love or in like with. Actors did it for a paycheck, which was basically what I was doing.
“Why are you touching your mouth?” Shirley asked.
Edward glared at me. “You’re thinking about him.”
“Did you make out with Blade?” Shirley shrieked.
“It wasn’t a make-out, it was a public display of affection. A performance for my family, if you will,” I insisted.
“And?”
“And it was a very nice kiss,” I said dreamily.
“Better than Nathan?” Shirley asked.
“What does he have to do with this?” I grumped.
“He is the same person who started stalking you after you slept with him and who I had to threaten with bodily harm to leave you alone,” Edward reminded me.
“Blade’s not going to turn into a Nathan situation. I’m not sleeping with him. We’re just getting married,” I said as we walked into the pizza place. It was family run, Old Italian style. It had recently been voted one of the best places in New York, and it was crowded. Edward waved to the owner’s son, who gave him a long, steamy gaze and then led us to a table.
“Talk about people sleeping with people for favors,” I hissed at him.
Edward looked smug. “I have to use what God’s given me. I’m just trying to survive here in New York City until we all go to the great wedding venue in the sky.”
“In Harrogate,” I corrected.
“Here’s what I was thinking,” Shirley said, pulling out her tablet after we ordered a sausage, pepper, and tomato pizza, a pepperoni pizza, and a pizza Marguerite, plus Coca-Cola. “It needs to be a small wedding.”
“There are a hundred Svenssons,” I reminded her.
“Okay, a small-ishwedding. No bridesmaids; we’ll do the Meghan Markle thing and have a pack of little kids traipsing behind you. You’ll have a sheer white dress, delicate lace, natural makeup, your hair in soft curls.”
Edward snorted. “You’re going to need a gallon of conditioner to tame that frizz, but I’m sure we can find a magic hair fairy to do that.”
I punched him in the arm, and he laughed.
“Ahem. We are professional wedding planners here, people,” Shirley said, flipping through the mood boards she and I had been putting together over the last few months as a fantasy escape from the drudgery of our miserable lives.
“The flowers will be bunches of creams, pinks, and blush colors. You will carry a small, tasteful bridal bouquet, nothing huge. It should be like a wood nymph, like you just plucked the flowers on the way to the venue.”
“And a naked wedding cake,” Edward insisted. “With a few flowers for decoration, not one of those fondant-covered monstrosities.”
I nodded. “I’m feeling this. I’m definitely feeling this.”
“You need to have the ceremony out in nature. There’s a nice little park in Harrogate. You know, the one with the fountain?”
“Do you think we can fit everyone in?”
“I mean, how many of his brothers are actually going to show up?” Edward said. “I bet only half, and most of them are kids. You’re not going to have that many people. And it’s in less than two months, so it’s short notice for a lot of people. It will be an intimate ceremony. Then we’ll have light refreshments and be done by eight in the evening. It will be a tasteful, low-key wedding.”
“I hate kicking people out early,” I pouted.
“It’s fine,” Shirley said. “The important thing is the photos.”
“No first dance, no dress change…” I sighed.
