“She and Mark are probably doing the deed all over the place!” Sophie joked. My friends giggled as my face burned.
“Oh, you two have definitely christened this place already!” Grace exclaimed.
“Welcome,” Mark said, stepping out of his study when we came back downstairs. He had set up a mobile command station in there, as he called it, which was basically a folding table and chair.
“I don’t know how you can work like that,” I said as he leaned down to kiss me, wrapping his arms around me. I would never get tired of that!
“I need space from my family.”
“He just sleeps here in a sleeping bag,” I told my friends.
“I don’t need nice things to survive.”
“Well, I do,” I declared.
The doorbell rang.
“You’re livinghere?” Beau exclaimed when I let him and Todd into the penthouse. “This is amazing. I’m jealous!”
He was dressed in a custom muumuu I had made him. It was covered in embroidered Roombas.
“We have to have it decorated first,” I reminded them, “which is why we are having a design charette.”
“I’m envious that you have so much space,” Todd said. He was already calculating how many antiques he could fit into the penthouse.
“We’re trying to keep it minimalist,” I warned.
Beau snorted. “As if you could be minimalist.”
“Okay, Judgey McJudgerson, that is probably accurate. And sure, my upstairs studio is going to look like a pigsty in about two weeks. But down here in the common areas, we are going to provide the illusion that someone who has her shit together lives here.”
I directed my parents to folding camping chairs to sit then grabbed some of the shrimp poppers Elsie had catered for the occasion.
The doorbell rang again, and the Holbrooks piled inside. Liz was there, carrying a cake container. Wes had the baby strapped to his chest, his dog protectively at his side. They both gazed adoringly at the tiny little girl.
“Wes barely lets me hold the baby,” Liz complained, toting the large Tupperware to the long kitchen island as Mark and my fathers cooed over the baby. “He’s absolutely smitten with her. I need to have another one so we each have one!”
She popped the lid off of the container.
“Is that your wedding cake?” Ivy asked her.
“You’re supposed to save the top for your anniversary,” I reminded her.
“But this is chocolate fudge,” Liz said, cutting off a large slice for herself. “It’s not going to save in the freezer.”
“It’s okay,” Sophie assured her. “I can make you a fresh cake for your anniversary. No problem!”
“A big one!” Liz agreed, perking up.
“Can we call this charade to order?” Carter announced, clapping his hands. “I want Brea on my team, because she knows how to draw.”
“We’re not playing charades,” Mark said, scowling at his younger brother. “It’s a charette for interior design of this penthouse.”
“Oh,” Carter said, slumping. “I even took an improvisation class last night to prepare.”
“You can do one quick improv,” I told him.
Mark scowled more deeply. “No.”
