‘You do know they’re not his cars?’
‘Excuse me?’
There’s that head shake again. ‘He swans around in them, but whatever he tells you, they belong to his dad.’
‘You’re still talking about Casper?’ I don’t want to give the game away, but at the same time, I can’t let the opportunity go. ‘If you do fancy any of his cars for your wedding transport, he’ll probably have availability?’
Nic’s looking at me as if I’m crazy. ‘Don’t be taken in! Casper never sticks around, he’ll be long gone by April, let alone the summer.’
‘In which case, let’s move on to my other surprise.’ I whip out the folder and shove it where he can’t possibly avoid looking at it.
‘The complete wedding organiser?’ His face crumples. ‘But isn’t that what you are?’
I ignore that. ‘All the bridal essentials inside one cover.’ The manliest version was dark blue with berries, knowing how much he values paper, he should love it. ‘There are checklists and countdown calendars, it’s even got a ziplock pocket.’ Bigging that up because it’s the kind of detail guys go for.
‘It’s very thick.’
Hurrah if he’s finally getting his head around the size of the job. ‘It’s actually very concise. It will be a good way for you to keep up with what’s coming at you, and lock down all the information in one place.’
‘If it’s a ziplock pocket, I hope it’s waterproof.’
Is that the only thing he can say? ‘Why, are you planning to throw it in the harbour?’
He gives a shrug. ‘Accidents happen when you live on a boat.’
I place it firmly in his hands, then stride past him. ‘So while you’re here, let me whizz a few things past you so those checklists make more sense.’
He’s still frowning, only this time he’s staring at my feet. ‘Have you seen the height of your heels? How did you even get down the stairs?’
I ignore that he’s trying to distract me from the job and pull out my best client smile. ‘Funnily enough, I did look at my shoes when I put them on. Vertiginous stilettos are something we high-flying women learn to get used to.’ At least he’s noticed I made the effort, so it hasn’t been a waste. There’s no way I’m telling him my toes are numb, or that I took the shoes off to make the dash down four flights. ‘Maybe we could take a look at stationery first?’
Nic holds up a finger. ‘Or better still, this might be a good time for my surprise?’
‘So what’s that?’ I can’t see he’s carrying anything.
His lips are twitching. ‘You should find it in your inbox if you open the attachment.’
I grab my phone from the counter and as I get to what he’s talking about my jaw is dropping. ‘Amazing! We have a guest list!’ As I open the file and scroll down pages and pages of names and details my heart is hitting the floor. ‘Well, a list this size definitely rules out micro weddings!’ And a lot more venues too, given the numbers.
He gives a shrug. ‘If Pixie insists on inviting her entire basketball squad it was never going to be small, was it?’
Eighty-plus living breathing guests have suddenly made it feel a whole lot more real. ‘It’s great we’re finally out of the starting blocks!’ There I go, sounding like a total arse again under pressure. And not only is Pixie a waif, she’s a sporty one too, which puts her in the superwoman league. The total opposite of everything I am. ‘And what better time to look at our pinboard to see what other couples have been choosing for their invitations.’
‘Lead the way but mind you don’t fall, it’s a long way down.’ He’s very close behind me now. ‘And are you sure those spikes are safe to walk in with a dog around?’
I ignore the cheek and take a few very deliberate steps towards a stand-up easel covered in examples. ‘Most brides leave us an invitation or save-the-date card for other people to get ideas. You don’t have to stick with cards, couples send out on everything from fridge magnets to cupcakes. See if any catch your eye?’ The last thing I’m expecting is for him to dive straight in, but a second later he’s flicked out a card.
‘This one looks interesting.’
Ivy hurries over from her table. ‘Sorry, that’s not an invitation, those are flyers for our design-your-own-wedding-cocktail evening.’
It’s no surprise that he’s passed over reams of invitations and homed in on the one mention of alcohol. ‘Ivy helps with marketing for the Cockle Shell Castle gin distillery, it’s a promotional event she’s putting on for brides and grooms.’ The kind couples get to come to once they’ve put the work in, and nailed down every other item on the checklist. When all they’re left with is the fun stuff to fill in the last weeks while they’re kicking their heels waiting for the big day to arrive. Given Nic’s time-frame and attitude, I seriously doubt he’ll make it to that point.
Ivy smiles at him. ‘Why not take a flyer? It can be the first thing in your folder.’
‘Thanks.’ He crumples the paper into his windcheater pocket, which kind of shows what we’re dealing with here.
‘Seeing as that went really well, let’s move on to some of the themed areas.’ I take a deep breath, knowing it’s a long shot. ‘So have you had any ideas of themes you might choose? Like the 50s theme in the gym.’
