"We’re going to miss our flight."
thirty
Cassandra
The wedding expo hasbeen packed full of excited brides and defeated grooms, who realize their life savings are about to be wasted on one day, and the last day is no different.
"It’s just an expensive party. Why can’t we just elope?" one overly-disgruntled groom said, while his fiancée walked past every booth, collecting as many samples and brochures as her arms would allow.
Jenna’s salon booth is directly across from ours, so we’ve seen each other constantly and it’s been so nice.
I’ve seen Janelle and Frankie too, and formally introduced them to mynew boss. Janelle couldn’t peel her eyes away from him, while Frankie spent the entire time talking his ear off about football, and how her husband would be so jealous that she got to meet his favorite QB.
They briefly met him at Jenna’s birthday party, but they’d been too busy actually working the event to talk to him or say more than a polite 'hello'.
"He’s so good for you," Jenna said to me when we had lunch by ourselves the day we arrived. "You have this glow about you I don’t think I’ve ever seen." She sounded like my mom.
"Probably all the sex," I said jokingly while I shifted uncomfortably in the chair I’d sat in as we drank our coffees.
Jenna was finallybeing serious, and I was the one to throw the sarcastic curve ball. I just wasn’t ready to admit that the reason for my glow is undeniably the way he makes me feel, day in, day out, and I definitely wasn’t ready to admit how fast I’m falling for him.
"Seriously, Cass, you look incredible." She reached for my hand across the coffee table, and I’d taken it. "Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it." My heart ached with how much I’d missed her, but I knew I made the right choice in going back home.
The first two days at the expo were a hit.
We booked two weddings, and arranged five separate venue tours with potential couples, all of them more than happy to travel.
"Where is your winery located?" a stunning, soon to be bride asks as she approaches our booth. Her long, dark hair is straight and draped over her shoulder, and her face is bare of any makeup, showing off a single freckle under her left eye. Her dark doe eyes stand out against her pale complexion.
"It’s a four-hour flight from here, in a small town called Grangewood Creek. I’m Cassandra, it’s nice to meet you." I smile, handing her a brochure full of information.
"I’m Chloe." She smiles back, taking it from my hand before she picks up one of our displayed bottles of wine. "I’ve had your wine before," she exclaims, her voice enthusiastic. "I had no idea you were located in Grangewood."
"Have you been?"
"Once, when my fiancé and I first got together. He wanted to show me where he grew up." She nods over her shouldertoward him as he approaches. "You might know him. His name is Matthew Maxwell." She blushes, watching as a man with a familiar face approaches behind her, planting a kiss on her temple.
"Well, isn’t this is a pleasant surprise," he says as he brings me in for a hug.
"Hi, Matty." I beam, excited to see an old friend, accepting his embrace. His dark hair is long, tied up at the nape of his neck. He’s obviously growing out his facial hair, too, and his dark eyes glaze over the moment he finds his girl.
Wrapping her tiny frame in his, I can feel the love oozing out of them.
"It’s good to see you, Cass."
"You too, Maxwell. I’m here with someone you might know, actually," I say, looking over my shoulder to see Jenna and Harley, deep in conversation.
"Harley," I shout, stealing his attention, not surprised he could hear my voice over the chattering crowd of excited women.
Apologizing to Jenna, he rushes over when he sees who I’m standing with.
"Maxwell." Clapping his hand on his arm, he brings him in for a side hug, while Matty introduces him to Chloe.
"Man, I was sorry to hear about your shoulder. I followed your career so closely, even went to a few games. How did it even happen? There was next to no publicity on it, and I never understood why." Matty cuts right to the chase, gaze zeroed in on Harley, and while Harley’s face doesn’t change, I feel his body slightly stiffen beside me.
Every time his retirement comes up in conversation, the topic changes quickly, so I’ve never bought it up myself.
I’ve seen and felt his scars, but haven’t been brave enough to ask.
