"Sorry to interrupt. I'll only take a moment," she said calmly, like she wasn't unraveling from the inside out.
Aspen looked up, blinking.
She sat at the head of the conference table laying out mood boards and floral palette samples. Everything spread all over. This was for their meeting later to discuss next spring's wedding trends, including peony imports, tenting logistics, and backup rain plans.
"Piper?" Aspen asked.
"I was wrong," she said, her voice shockingly steady. "I can't do weddings. It's not a preference, it's a liability. Someone else should handle that." And leave her with the funerals and corporate galas. Safe events that don't end in heartbreak or drag anyone down.
She showed Aspen the links to the articles. Aspen's face dropped as she read along.
"I understand that not helping out with weddings means the promotion might not be mine right now, and that's okay. You need someone you can really count on for all events. You deserve that. I just—I wanted you to hear it from me."
Aspen opened her mouth, clearly caught off guard. "I—Piper, hold on?—"
"I guess… I guess… that means that it's okay to select someone else. No hard feelings. But, um, I'm not feeling great. I need to take a personal day." Her chin wobbled. "Please?"
"Of course." Aspen started toward her. "Of course, take the day. Take two. But we need to talk about this."
Piper had already turned, her hands clammy.
She didn't wait, she walked straight out of Montgomery Events, past the glossy photo wall and the sparkling light fixtures and the nameplate outside the office with a new smudge near the 'M.'
She didn't fix it. Not today.
Outside, the air was cooler than expected. Sharp, like it wanted to wake her up.
Zach's voice called from behind, breathless. "Hey, Piper."
She didn't turn around.
"Piper? What's wrong?" he hurried toward her.
"I saw the tabloids."
"The Drake and Anna thing?" he asked as though it was just another morning conversation.
"What other thing is there?" she asked.
"They just had a tiff," he assured like it was no big deal.
"A tiff?" she asked.
"That's what my mom always calls it when we argue. Not a big deal, just a tiff."
She paused at the curb, her throat thick. "Zach? I'm scared it always ends and this is how the ending starts." She hiccupped.
His confidence crumbled. Like he'd finally put the dot-to-dot together and realized the finished image was once again her fault.
"Piper, no. This isn't the beginning of the end for them. It's not. Don't let this drag you. We broke through together. Hold onto that. I didn't realize…" He took a few steps closer, his voice easing. "No one's even talked to Drake or Anna yet. I'm not sure what's going on, but I'll tell you as soon as I know. And, if it were something big? The family would be all over my ass about it. Digging for intel. Ready to fly down and force them to make up."
She stayed still; shoulders tense.
"I stopped by because you left your binder at my place." He held out the black plastic in his hand. "Figured you'd want it for your meeting later."
She stared at it, but she didn't take it. Instead, her voice broke as she said, "I don't need it. I don't even know if I can do this job anymore. I just?—"
Zach's eyes went huge. "Piper. Don't?—"
