Amy
“Amy,” Ivy hissed at me.
“He can’t be the best man. He’s rude and aggressive. This is the wedding of the century,” I retorted. “I’m not coordinating with him. I have a flower-power wedding planned.”
“I like flowers!” Meg said, breaking the tension.
“We’re happy to coordinate with both Sebastian as best man, and Kate and Susie as matron and maid of honor,” Ivy said, making notes.
She kicked me under the table for good measure, which roused Baxter, who jumped up, sending my cup of coffee—piled high with whipped cream, sprinkles, and mini marshmallows—into my lap.
“Shit! Shit! Baxter, don’t eat that. Sorry,” I mumbled, grabbing a wad of napkins and going under the table to mop it up.
“How much work exactly is the maid of honor role?” Susie asked warily while I chased the river of coffee under the table. It was running back toward the window where Meg and Sebastian were sitting… along with Sebastian’s very expensive-looking leather bag.
Crap! Crap! Crap!
“I have so much work to do as deputy mayor,” Susie said as I lunged, creating a napkin dam inches away from Sebastian’s imported-leather briefcase.
“But you’re one of my best friends!” Meg cried.
“I have crazy seniors to corral,” Susie ticked off, “and the feral-cat committee is about to suffer a schism, and civil war is brewing. Besides, I have no sense of style. I’m not going to be able to make decisions. At the very least, have a second maid of honor.”
“Kate will help,” Meg insisted.
“Ideally, we would have someone local to Harrogate,” Ivy said, “though we are happy to work with whomever you choose.”
Next time, I am not ordering so much coffee,I decided as I furiously grabbed the marshmallows that were swirling in eddies of coffee under the table.
“Hmm,” Meg said thoughtfully. “What about Amy as maid of honor?”
“What?” I shrieked, jumping up and slamming my head on the underside of the heavy reclaimed wood table.
“What in the world?”
Sebastian’s angry face appeared under the table.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“I’m not working with you!” I shrieked, clambering out from under the table.
“My briefcase.” Sebastian cursed, grabbing his bag as I hauled myself out from under the table with Baxter’s help.
“I cannot plan a wedding with him.” I pointed at Sebastian.
“And I am not working with her.” Sebastian crossed his arms. “Look at her! She’s a disaster.”
“As if you’d be any help anyway,” I shot back at him.
“I’m more useful than you,” he said. “At least I manage not to spill my coffee all over myself.”
I stuffed a marshmallow that was in my hand into my mouth and chewed angrily. Nothing stuck in my craw more than when people acted like they were better at wedding planning than me, an actual wedding planner.
“Was that on the floor?” Sebastian snarled.
“It’s still good. Or not.” I made a face and pulled a piece of horsehair out of my mouth.
Sebastian gagged.
