He looked like he wanted to disagree, but he finally sighed. “If that’s what you prefer.”
Rebecca wasn’t sure what she preferred anymore. “I love you as my friend, and that will never change. But, um, I’d also still like to work here so please don’t trade me for Felicity and make me Clarissa’s assistant.” The fear had popped out of her mouth without thought.
“Becca, I’m not going to do that. I would never do that. Again, I’m sorry. I promise nothing like … what happened … will ever happen again. Ever.”
He was trying to reassure her, but the emphatic way he said it was strangely humiliating.
They needed something to do, something that could push them past awkwardly staring at each other in this office.
“What’s scheduled for this afternoon?” she asked. She’d been studying the schedule herself before Felicity showed up, but now she couldn’t picture a single thing on it.
“Oh, um.” He woke up his tablet, obviously having the same problem. “Cake taste testing and design planning meeting. That’s in an hour.” He tapped his fingers against the desk. “It’s right by The Yellow Rose. Why don’t we stop by and see how the Christmas tree set up is going? We’ll need fifteen decorated trees for the family Christmas party on Wednesday night and the Christmas themed reception on Saturday.”
Rebecca nodded. “Let’s leave right now.” The less time they spent in this office the better.
***
Jay dreaded the afternoon planning meeting. Despite the tension running between him and Rebecca, they’d managed to get a lot done and stuff it into the background, but he didn’t want to put it on display for everyone else.
It certainly didn’t help when Felicity’s eyes immediately sought him out as they walked in. Her tremulous smile said so many things he hoped he was misreading. Between her, Clarissa, and Rebecca, it was like an estrogen-laced minefield. He mentally pulled up his big boy britches and told himself none of it mattered. He’d voluntarily chosen to plan weddings. Every day was an estrogen-laced minefield, and he’d make his way through this one unscathed, just like all the ones before it.
“Sorry we’re late,” he said, pulling out a chair for Rebecca before sitting in the one next to her. “The Yellow Rose is ready for Wednesday’s Christmas party.”
Marlise’s eye’s widened. “The tables and place settings as well?”
“Everything.”
“Okay, well, no good deed goes unpunished. Annette and I are double-booked tomorrow with appointments, so I’ll need you two to meet with my bride who’s currently thirty thousand dollars over budget. Good luck with that.”
The more the two of them had to do, the better. “Sounds good. What time?”
He kept his eyes on the schedule while they went through the rest of the week. Twenty more minutes and he could go home and regroup. His phone kept buzzing with missed calls and text messages, and he finally pulled it out of his coat pocket, alarmed to see they were all from Shannon. Bridger didn’t get off at the bus stop, and she couldn’t find him. The bus driver was subbing for the regular guy and didn’t even know who Bridger was.
He jumped up. “I have to go.” How could he have thought a stupid planning meeting was more important than taking a half-second to check his phone?
He grabbed up his things, knocking his water bottle over in the process and watering everything. It could all wait. He just needed his phone and keys.
Rebecca grabbed up his tablet and wiped it against her skirt. “What can I do?” It was the pragmatic way she handled everything, including his stupidity.
“Come with me.”
She grabbed her purse and followed him out, no questions asked.
