"If that outfit doesn’t make him want to fuck you, just undo a button and he’ll be on his knees before you know it. Or maybe you’ll be on yours." Lizzie cackles to herself as I turn my back on my sisters, storm out of my bedroom, and give them the finger before slamming my door shut, drowning out the sound of hysterical laughter.
That’s the last thing I need. I don’t want to be obsessing over the crush I had when I was sixteen, and I certainly don’t need to imagine his head between my legs, or mine between his.
I’ve arrived at Wingrove Estates a little earlier than intended, but I was too on edge to be in my parents’ house for much longer.
From the moment I stepped out of my mom’s Prius, I found myself immediately in awe of what Harley has turned this spaceinto. Taking a quick landscape photo, I send it to Jenna, and video call my sisters to gush about how beautiful it is here.
"Guys, this place is stunning. If I ever got married, which I won’t, because to get married you need to be engaged, and I never want to be engaged ever again; I would want to get married here." I go on a tangent while Lizzie giggles and Olive gags.
Olive doesn’t believe that love even exists, yet Lizzie is happy to kiss every single frog until she finds her Prince Charming.
"I can picture it already. Walking down a white carpet in the gardens, while my faceless groom stands under a rustic, wooden arch with a subtle splash of flowers in the corner—"
"Faceless groom? That’s a weird way to pronounceHarley Wingrove,but okay," Lizzie cuts me off, and I continue as if she never said a word.
"You guys and Jenna are all wearing gold, silk gowns while standing across from myfaceless groom,waiting for me as I walk arm in arm with dad down the aisle. Our reception would be in the barn with an enormous dance floor, because my future husband andfaceless groomwould join me and want to be the life of the party, while all of our guests dance beside us."
It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall. Neither of my sisters utters a single word, but I need to tellsomeoneabout how beautiful this place is, and Jenna is at work, so they’ll have to do.
"The rounded tables would be decorated with white tablecloths and gold chairs to match your dresses, with candles and white orchids as the centerpieces. I want fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, too." I finally finish rambling.
"Wow, for someone who never wants to be married, you’ve sure thought a lot about how this day would play out," Olive says.
"You forget that I’m a party planner, Ol. Ofcourse, I’ve put a lot of thought into it. Besides, I never said I didn’t want to bemarried. I just don’t want to waste fourteen more years of my life on someone who doesn’t know for sure if they want to be with me. I want to be with someone who tells me that I’m their person forever. Who knows, maybe I’ll meet someone who wants to skip an engagement all together, and we can simply just... get married."
I didn’t use to be anti-anything, but my proposal, engagement, and overall relationship with Austin left a sour taste in my mouth. I don’t want to put myself in a position that leaves me wide open for heartbreak.
But it’s hard.
My relationship with Austin was all that I knew. I have nothing to compare it to. I hoped to be a wife one day; to live happily in a house that we worked to make a home.
Maybe even a kid or two running around. But I think I’ve accepted that my reality might look a little different these days, and I’ll learn to be ok with it.
"Got it. Faceless groom. Wingrove Estate. White and rustic with splashes of gold. Can we hang up yet?"
Rolling my eyes, I hang up before they get the chance and make my way inside.
Knocking on Harley’s office door, I take a deep breath and allow myself a moment to be a little nervous.
To accept the fact that things have changed, but to remind myself that sometimes, change is a good thing.
"It’s open," his deep voice booms and now my heart is beating like I’ve just ran a marathon, mouth as dry as cinnamon.
"Hi, Mr. Wingrove," I say as he stands from his seat to greet me, one hand on stomach to keep his tie in place, the other gesturing to the empty seat on the other side of his desk.
It sounded weird the moment 'Mr. Wingrove'rolled off my tongue, but it was the only thing that felt appropriate given he could be my new boss, and I panicked.
Frankie and I weren’t on a first name basis for the first six months.
"That’s my grandfather’s name." He chuckles as he runs his hand down his tie as he takes his seat.
"Sorry, I guess I’m nervous," I reply as I take mine.
"We’re old friends, Herring. The job is yours already, if you want it," he says, while skimming his thumb over his plump bottom lip, leaning back in his chair.
Now his lips are all I can see.
"It is?" I ask, and he nods, my attention refocussing on his face.
