“And a s’mores station,” I piped up. “There are fire pits in the garden of the Holbrook estate. People will want to roast things. In fact, let’s do a full-on hot dog station.”
Elsie raised an eyebrow at me.
“That’s a great idea!” Liz said. “You can roast hot dogs, have freshly made buns, have a live band for dancing. It will be amazing!”
The rest of the tasting went fabulously, and I was stuffed by the time Mark’s family members took to-go boxes with them when they left.
“I’m not even mad,” I told him, lying down on the couch. I yawned. “I’m ready for a nap.”
“Brea,” Elsie reminded me, “we have two weddings this weekend. No sleeping during wedding season.”
“Yes, Mom!”
“Do you have time to come out with me?” Mark asked.
“Don’t you have to work?”
“I’ve been working eighteen-hour days the past year and a half,” Mark said.
“Well, I have to work,” Ivy stated, shooing me off the couch.
“So what’s the surprise?” I asked Mark, sitting upright.
“You’ll see!”
43
Mark
Brea nestled next to me in the car ride over to the first property. Beowulf, who’d had his own fair share of snacks, lay snoring on my lap.
Was this a good idea? Though I did want to move out of my current residence, if only to put some distance between me and my family, I had ulterior motives. I wanted Brea to find a place she adored, and then I would use that to convince her to move in with me. But was it too soon? Was it weird? I didn’t want to lose her.
The first place on the list was a newly renovated tower. It was closer to the Weddings in the City office than to Frost Tower but still on the same train line.
“Is this a bar?” Brea asked as the town car stopped.
“It’s one in the afternoon,” I told her dryly.
“That’s not too early if your life is going to shit,” she muttered.
I laughed. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“I thought you might want to go look at fancy real estate,” I said as the car pulled into the parking deck. “I guess I should have asked you if you had to get work done.”
“I’m still too tipsy to do any sewing. All my lines would be crooked,” Brea said as we walked into the building. “Besides, I was raised at estate sales. There is nothing I like more than expensive real estate!”
“Except coffee,” I joked as I collected the keycard to the penthouse from the concierge. A private elevator took us up to the top floor. “Hopefully that elevator would cut down on the surprise visits from family members,” I remarked.
“You don’t like having your family around?” Brea teased as the elevator let us off at the top floor.
I grimaced. “There can be too much of a good thing.”
“Speaking of,” Brea quipped. “This place seems a bit big.”
“I need more than one story,” I said, picking up the brochure for the penthouse. “And this place has three stories!”
