Sophie immediately dropped Troy’s grasp. She moved quickly to Velma, enfolding her in a hug. Velma awkwardly hugged her, patting her on the back, because what else was she supposed to do with a runaway bride?
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Sophie whispered, pulling away. Tears welled in her eyes.
Brek raised an eyebrow at Velma. She shrugged. What the hell-o was she being blamed for now?
“Thank you for what you did,” Sophie continued.
“What, exactly, did I do?” Velma asked cautiously.
“You gave Troy my note.” Sophie stepped back to Troy, and now the tears streamed freely down her cheeks. He smiled at her like she held the meaning to all that was real and good.
A jealous twinge in the vicinity of her heart stopped Velma’s breath. What would she give to have a man look at her that way? The way Brek looked at her like she was dinner and he was starving was nice, but it wasn’t the same.
“We’ve spent some time figuring things out. Thanks to the note, I knew she still loved me.” Troy’s gaze never left Sophie. “Things just got away from us with the wedding plans. That’s, uh, actually why we’re here. We’d like you to help us plan a new wedding. A better one.”
“Shall we move to the conference room?” Velma asked, herding them along.
“We can meet here. Troy? Sophie?” Brek gestured to the tight love seat and pulled up a chair from the reception desk for Velma. He grabbed one for himself from along the wall and straddled it.
Um. No. They had agreed to meet in the conference room. Velma had even turned on the scented-candle things. That’s where she left her notepad. Brek didn’t even have a writing utensil out here.
“Are you sure? We’re uh…all set up in the other room.” Velma tried to telepathically encourage Brek to follow her lead. He wasn’t having it.
“We’re good. I’m good. You good?” he asked the couple on the couch.
They nodded. Fudge. Velma reluctantly sat in the chair Brek offered. She leaned over to him. “My notepad is in the other room,” she whispered.
He grinned at her. “You can go get it if you want. We won’t need notes, though.”
What event planner didn’t need notes?
“Okay, then,” Velma started. “What were you thinking for this wedding?”
“Simple,” Sophie replied. “But special.”
Simple was good. Simple wasn’t tens of thousands of dollars on exotic orchids shipped in from the tropics.
“How’d you two meet?” Brek asked, his arms dangling over the top of his chair like a hooligan. A really hot hooligan, but still.
“At the Reach the Peak Marathon. Sophie handed out water bottles at the end of the course. I took one look as I ran by and knew she was the one for me. Corner of Broadway and Fourteenth Street, my life changed forever.” Troy visibly squeezed Sophie’s hand and pulled it to his knee.
“He was thirsty, that’s all.” Sophie bumped her shoulder against his and then cuddled closer. They were really sweet together, now that she wasn’t so caught up in the whole bride-on-a-rampage thing.
Troy looked at Sophie with intensity. Velma and Brek should probably excuse themselves. “Asked her out on the spot,” Troy continued.
Except. “I thought you worked for her father?” Velma asked.
Brek shot her a look. Crud. She had interrupted their moment.
“That was after we’d been dating for a while.” Sophie glanced to Velma, breaking Troy’s spell. “And Daddy was going to make him partner anyway, even if we didn’t get married. I didn’t know that. Troy wanted it to be a surprise.”
“What budget are we looking at?” Brek asked, still entirely too relaxed. They were supposed to be planning a wedding, for goodness’ sake. Weddings were serious.
“About a quarter of the previous.” Troy looked sheepishly at Sophie. “We’ll be paying for this one on our own.”
“We were hoping that you two might come up with something. We can just show up and get married.” Sophie gestured her French-manicured fingernails between Velma and Brek.
Velma squinted at Sophie. “You want us to pick itall?”
