"I meant that the campaign helped us both. That the success should make her boss sit up and take notice," Zach clarified.
"Right. And she needed you to talk about the future. Reassure that the future is solid for you both."
"That's exactly what I said."
"Not exactly." Drake pulled his lips to the side.
"But good news, now you can fix your fuck up and Nads still gets a new kickass auntie." Jase nodded, deep in his own pride that he'd solved the riddle.
"How exactly do I fix this?" Zach asked.
"Well, first, start by telling her how you feel. Then the rest usually comes along fine," Roman assured.
"Drake, are you ready for pictures?" Mom sauntered into the room, took one look around, clearly knew something was up, but said nothing. That's because she wasn't Babushka.
"They want to get you and your family before the wedding starts," she said instead of prying further.
"Good talk." Jase smacked Zach on the shoulder, already tying his bow tie as he moved.
Roman grunted something, but it wasn't entirely verbal.
"You got this," Drake said, like a man walking straight into a custom-made future he'd been waiting his entire life for.
And Zach? Yeah. He'd botched it. He hadn't meant for his words to land wrong with Piper.
But they had.
And he would make it right.
Standing at the ceremony site, Zach had one job: don't screw anything else up.
Also, show up for her.
So, really, that was two jobs. Who was counting, though?
The venue—rooftop garden-meets-ballroom fantasy—was already buzzing when they made it to the terrace.
Flower arrangements flowed from gold carts, each one perfectly matching the dusty-lavender palette Piper had fought hard for.
It was perfect without being over-the-top. Authentic in a way that slapped expectations squarely across the face.
Tess got her blue and gold for the cake and those photos, so Piper deftly negotiated lavender and cream for everything else. He had to give her that she came through for Anna.
And in the center of it all—Piper herself. Clipboard clasped under one arm, headset hanging from her grip, pushing a linen-draped table slightly to the left with her hip as she coordinated three conversations and probably solved the mysteries of the human genome on the side.
Zach grinned.
Earlier that week, he'd texted Babushka a single question because Babushka, well, she knew things.
Zach: How do I show up for her?
Babushka: You bring her food.
She'd followed that with a text full of fruit emojis and a Gif of a supportive panda, because Babushka.
That's why Zach had arranged for a waiter to show up with one blueberry kale smoothie before things got too crazy.
It arrived just as he did, passed quietly into Piper's hands with a small, folded note taped to the lid.
